Sam, your essays are catnip for me, as you know all too well. I'm not going to delve into feminism in Barbie, although that is enticing. "The Imaginarium" is a new term to me, but so useful -- and it represents a lot of fantasy-making that I see in the stories available to my daughters.
OK, maybe I will actually dig into feminism, because…
Sam, your essays are catnip for me, as you know all too well. I'm not going to delve into feminism in Barbie, although that is enticing. "The Imaginarium" is a new term to me, but so useful -- and it represents a lot of fantasy-making that I see in the stories available to my daughters.
OK, maybe I will actually dig into feminism, because what I really want to comment on is your pitch for realism. I don't think it's an accident that it's an enduring literary mode. And it by no means must be constrained by tedious biographical narration. One need think only of Ambrose Bierce's unforgettable "An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge" to know how hyper-realistic the imagination can be.
But I'm also reminded of feminist writers who came of age during the Realism period in American literature, such as Kate Chopin, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, and Mary E. Wilkins Freeman. And Sarah Orne Jewett. They typically defied the more stoic, hard-boiled approach of their male counterparts, but I actually think there are a lot of stylistic and emotional affinities between Crane's "The Open Boat" and Jewett's "A White Heron." Freeman and Chopin used realism, in part, to articulate gender relations AS THEY COULD BE, not as they were, and you're making me wonder now about whether "Barbie" does the same. Take Freeman's "The Revolt of 'Mother'" -- somewhat fanciful for the time, perhaps, but rendered very plausibly and with an eye toward strengthening marriages and families through equality. That is, there was a kind of collective sensibility among the Realists, even while telling highly personal stories, such as in "The Story of an Hour" and "The Yellow Wallpaper." Gilman was motivated, in part, by preventing other women from repeating her ghastly medical experience. And there was a very different class sensibility among the 19th century Realists. They were drawn to ordinary people, not superstars. There is a decidedly bourgeois bent to Barbie that I don't think is empowering for all in the way that Jewett's or Chopin's writing was meant to be.
I have an essay-in-progress called "Fathers and Daughters" that includes a visit to Seneca Falls, NY. I really don't want to have to talk about Barbie in that essay, but perhaps I now must.
Thanks for this. I’m just finishing Gilman’s “Herland,” which is remarkably complete (if a bit draggy near the end). I read it on the heels of two other feminist novels -“Lessons in Science” and “I Have Some Questions for You”. It’s messing with my head. Why can’t we be more like “Herland”? 😢
Sam, your essays are catnip for me, as you know all too well. I'm not going to delve into feminism in Barbie, although that is enticing. "The Imaginarium" is a new term to me, but so useful -- and it represents a lot of fantasy-making that I see in the stories available to my daughters.
OK, maybe I will actually dig into feminism, because what I really want to comment on is your pitch for realism. I don't think it's an accident that it's an enduring literary mode. And it by no means must be constrained by tedious biographical narration. One need think only of Ambrose Bierce's unforgettable "An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge" to know how hyper-realistic the imagination can be.
But I'm also reminded of feminist writers who came of age during the Realism period in American literature, such as Kate Chopin, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, and Mary E. Wilkins Freeman. And Sarah Orne Jewett. They typically defied the more stoic, hard-boiled approach of their male counterparts, but I actually think there are a lot of stylistic and emotional affinities between Crane's "The Open Boat" and Jewett's "A White Heron." Freeman and Chopin used realism, in part, to articulate gender relations AS THEY COULD BE, not as they were, and you're making me wonder now about whether "Barbie" does the same. Take Freeman's "The Revolt of 'Mother'" -- somewhat fanciful for the time, perhaps, but rendered very plausibly and with an eye toward strengthening marriages and families through equality. That is, there was a kind of collective sensibility among the Realists, even while telling highly personal stories, such as in "The Story of an Hour" and "The Yellow Wallpaper." Gilman was motivated, in part, by preventing other women from repeating her ghastly medical experience. And there was a very different class sensibility among the 19th century Realists. They were drawn to ordinary people, not superstars. There is a decidedly bourgeois bent to Barbie that I don't think is empowering for all in the way that Jewett's or Chopin's writing was meant to be.
I have an essay-in-progress called "Fathers and Daughters" that includes a visit to Seneca Falls, NY. I really don't want to have to talk about Barbie in that essay, but perhaps I now must.
Thanks for this. I’m just finishing Gilman’s “Herland,” which is remarkably complete (if a bit draggy near the end). I read it on the heels of two other feminist novels -“Lessons in Science” and “I Have Some Questions for You”. It’s messing with my head. Why can’t we be more like “Herland”? 😢