Most women
characters through history have been consistently written as meeker damsels
that service as a plot point and prop to the courageous hero. There are a few
notable characters, however, that manage to defy the damsel archetype in
varying levels of boldness. Even as representation of women remained largely
within the same stereotype, writers found ways to manipulate the submissive
expectation to create women with greater deception. The Victorian era saw less
obvious portrayals of self-saviors, but nevertheless the time period held its
own version of proto-feminism that discreetly possessed women defiant of the
expected norm. Within each of their respective time periods, these heroines
find ways to work around societal repression and end their stories in
possession of their own agencies.
Texts such as
Tennyson’s “The Lady of Shalott,” and Radcliffe’s “Romance in the Forest” are
written slyly enough to invoke drastically varying interpretations, but could
ultimately be read with strong female characters. “Romance in the Forest” presents the most
difficult analysis of early feminism, as Adeline does not immediately inspire
confidence as the fiercest woman character. However small hints in the writing
imply that Adeline is in fact capable of more than she lets on, such as
manipulation. In the late eighteenth century, most women were expected to act
the way Adeline seemed to be: weak, meek, and quiet. Radcliffe writes Adeline
with the appearance of the malleable woman, but adds a mysterious dimension to
her that fleshes Adeline into a real woman. Strong female characters do not
always need to brandish weapons or be boldly outspoken, but simply women in
literature that possess the multilayered personality real women have. Adeline
is an early example of this, as she begins the novel a sniveling mess, but
slowly evolves into a woman capable of secrets and mystery. Adeline even ends
the novel in success, being bequeathed a considerable inheritance that leaves
her better off than most of the other characters. Even as different
interpretations of this text are made today, what must be considered is how the
modern feminist viewpoint can alter the intentions of the original work.
“Romance in the Forest” is probably less feminist when read from its time
period’s perspective. Though it holds potential for being influentially
feminist today, it theoretically holds little ground on influencing nineteenth
century women in a proto-feminist way.
In Alfred
Tennyson’s “The Lady of Shalott,” a cursed woman is trapped within the confines
of her room, forbidden to look outside. Her story is easily interpreted into a
commentary about the roles of women in the early nineteenth century, but the
kind of observation Tennyson is making is up for debate. A feminist approach
would suggest that the Lady of Shalott gains her freedom, even in death, and
that Tennyson is warding against the binding expectations women of the century
fell prey under. After a long, unhappy life of weaving blankets and living
under an invisible rule, the Lady of Shalott decides to take matters into her own
hands, even if it means death. Though Lancelot is featured in the poem, he is
not the hero that saves the maiden from the tower, rather the maiden leaves on
her own accord. Possessing her own agency, the Lady of Shalott saves herself
from the tower instead of waiting idly by, and becomes a symbol of rebellion
against the submissive “angel of the house” role.
The curse is actually dying from boredom.
Later in the
century, Oscar Wilde treated his two heroines with less subtlety and wrote both
as fairly independent women, despite the nature of late nineteenth century
courtship and marriage. Gwendolyn and Cecily both believe themselves smarter
and more confident than most women of the time would portray, and throughout
the play, subject their respective men to various demands. Both women
manipulate the men and mold them into exactly the version of Ernest the girls’
desire, thus making themselves women with independent agency and the capability
for ambitious desire. Everyone is rambunctiously pleased by the end, but only
after each woman – including Lady Bracknall – has given her approval to the
men. Wilde gives the women of his play independence even as they weave through
the rigid social structure of the time period, demanding what they desire from
men in a way that still conforms to the social structure.
Inconspicuously
taking the women roles and giving the heroines more autonomy then would
normally be allowed, permits writers to weave defiance of the social hierarchy
even as the characters work within it. In “Earnest,” Gwendolyn and Cecily use
their roles as courted women to regulate the men, working both inside and
outside society’s demands as strong female characters. Adeline in “Romance In the
Forest” silently maneuvers through the stereotype her surrounding characters
(and even the readers) cast her as, quietly slipping her independent thinking
into her character with the deception of a girl that appears to have no
strength, but possesses much. Pandering to the role others have placed her in
allows for a heroine to move unnoticed through the social structure even as she
defies it, giving her character not only autonomy beyond hierarchy, but a type
of manipulation she is thought to be incapable of.
Angela Carter’s
narrator in “The Bloody Chamber” is a modern example of this type of control as
she slips indications of her true intentions in the beginning of the story. The
girl knows the stories of the Baron’s past wives, but nevertheless insists they
marry. However she never admits that she weds him for love, but rather because
she just knows she wants to marry him. Carter’s writing implies an underlying
tone of deception that the narrator possesses, one that makes the protagonist
capable of both awareness and destruction.
Even the narrator admits that she believes she has as capability for
corruption, indication not that women are pure young innocents susceptible to
the dark nature of men, but rather that women can own the same type of carnal forces
already embedded with in her. Women, essentially, are not corruptible, but
rather their corruption lies dormant until triggered. This natural possession
of strength changes the nature of feminine archetypes and allows for a stronger
heroine role to emerge. Carter changes the end of the original fairytale to
include not a prince savior, but rather the mother. A mother killing a brutal
man without hesitation, saving the protagonist from certain death is not the
conventional type of storybook ending, but realistic one nevertheless. Carter’s
feminist twist on an original fairytale is slightly more obvious, with reason
for her late twentieth century time period, but she still plays within the
audience’s expectations by painting only subtle indications of the
protagonist’s capabilities, and shocking the end with a different twist. Most
readers would believe that the young girl would be either killed, or saved by a
hero of sorts, and Carter sticks to the latter but incites deeper
interpretations by merely changing the gender. This simple act, however more
bold and brazen to her nineteenth century counterparts, jolts the audience
enough to prove that female heroes are still in short supply, even a century
later.
These women arguably
could all be labeled as female heroes. They wield weaponized femininity and use
the subordinate class position to their advantage. Some work through inaction,
allowing men to dismantle themselves before swooping in to collect the
resulting royalties; while others utilize their stereotype by enforcing it as a
tool of manipulation men would not be aware of. It is relatively easy to write
heroines that blatantly step out of the feminine role and don metal armor to
mimic men, but the type of female hero that uses her submissive archetype as
both a shield, invisibility cloak, and weapon in one device invokes a greater
complexity of social commentary. Adeline’s strength is faint enough to be
argued and reimagined copiously. Tennyson, Wilde, and Carter are better known
for their varying types of social commentary, but still leave their characters with
enough typecast to be questioned. The glory of this restraint leaving room for
interpretation means audiences are giving the respective texts more
consideration then they normally would have, spurring deeper thought processes
that trail on to reflect on problematic societal norms. This contemplation of society's complexities is the foundational theme of each story, and the stimulation of it
means the stories are successful.
Works Cited
Hall, Lesley A. “Sex, Gender and Social
Change in Britain Since 1880.” Macmillan: 2000.
Davidoff, Lenore. “Class and Gender
in Victorian England: The Diaries of Arthur J. Munby and Hannah Cullwick.”
Feminist Studies, Inc: 2011.
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