Dr Heather Laird’s presentation, “Writing Irish Working Class Mothers” was both informative and interesting. I had been familiar with the representation of women in Irish writing, but the subject of writing about working class mothers delved into the topic in a unique manner. Their representations vary and are numerous in number. Dr Laird offered examples of the “good” dependable put-upon mother (The Countrywoman) and the “monstrous” mothers who destroy the ideology of nurturing maternal goodness in light of their impoverished circumstances (Katty The Flash). Various other examples, such as single motherhood and biological vs non-biological motherhood were also included. Particularly in the case of adopted motherhood, I found their subject matter a revelation.
What I particularly liked about the presentation was the focus on the emotional strain that the women in such domestic situations suffered. I found the study of the role of Molly Baines in The Countrywoman particularly provoking. Crushed from all sides by the Church, her violent husband and her children and yet remaining steadfast in her role, one can truly imagine what trauma such a stance would inevitably evoke. I mentioned in the beginning I found the case of the non-biological mother/infertility interesting. I haven’t read anything that deals directly with this topic, and found the examination of its inclusion in the novel Mother Of Pearl by Mary Morrissy enlightening. The examination of not only the pressure on a mother, but society’s determination to hurry women into the role of the mother told a story of a vicious ring of oppression on a single woman leading to the oppression in the demands in the role as a mother. This image of a vicious circle, combined with the physical trauma of illness, makes it a compelling topic in terms of the examination of the emotional struggle of Irish working class women.
What I found effective about the presentation of the topic was the continuation of the aesthetic/ideological aspect that continued throughout. Each of the women in the novels discussed are confined within a particular “bracket” by the society in which they live. The enforcement of the aesthetic of the “good” wife and mother is something each of the characters have to live with in some form or the other. Whether they acquiesce to the concept or not, it is part of society’s make-up and therefore the prism through which they are looked upon. Such an ideal can have potentially fatal consequences; the performance of perpetual and unchanging dependability and endurance claims the life of Molly Baines in The Countrywoman. Juno in Sean O Casey’s play Juno And The Paycock was also referred to as a figure who resigned herself to the aesthetic of the dependable wife for much of the play. Her decision to leave her reckless husband at the end of the play is abandonment of the ideal and conformant with it; she is leaving, but for the sake of her daughter.
Overall I enjoyed the presentation very much. It covered a great many angles of the concept of Irish working class mothers in writing, giving each enough depth and explanation. I look forward to reading more on the topic.
Anne Of The Thousand Days dominated the Academy Awards nominations of 1970; it was indisputably a success despite some critics’ misgivings. However, the focus was on one performance in particular… Genevieve Bujold’s impassioned portrayal as Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII and mother of the future Queen Elizabeth II, was the talking point of all who had seen the movie. In my opinion, all anybody has to do is watch her vicious, bitter yet triumphant face-off with her husband in the dying minutes of the film and they will immediately rank it as one of the finest speeches in film. “My Elizabeth shall be Queen!” she rages. “Get yourself a son on that sweet pale girl if you can [a reference to her successor, Jane Seymour] and hope that it will live… but Elizabeth shall rule a greater England than you could ever have built…and my blood will have been well spent!” Historically inaccurate it may be and uncharacteristically feminist for a 16th century-based drama, yet it makes for compelling viewing. Bujold’s character faces her death defiant and refusing to submit to the patriarchal figures who have orchestrated her downfall, her own husband amongst them.
I will return again to a point I made- the speech is unabashedly feminist, and ahead of its time. It was over the course of the 1960s that the women’s movement was on the rise, and the concept of feminist film studies was born (Neal, 856). Molly Huskell’s From Reverence To Rape was a revolutionary text written during the period that tackled the budding subject of feminist film theory; it is now seen as one of its key texts. It examined the role women played in film and was heavily critical of confining actresses to conservative, passive roles. Huskell declared herself “a film critic first, a feminist second”, asserting that she was treating acting as an individual body, not political. However, she insisted that degrading a female point of view was a deficiency that needed to be dealt with (Huskell, ix). In light of growing support for feminist film theory, it is perhaps no small coincidence that the writers elected to bestow their heroine with such an evocative piece of dialogue.
It is also of interest to note that one of the writers of the screenplay was a woman; Bridget Boland, an Irish-English writer was teamed with John Hale and Richard Sokolove. An Oxford graduate, Boland came with an experienced back catalogue; in 1956 she had adapted the screenplay for another Academy Award nominated film, Tolstoy’s War And Peace, which starred Audrey Hepburn in what was to be one of the acclaimed actress’s breakthrough roles. While little is written about Boland’s part in the making of the film, a rather telling interview from 1987 gives a hint about where her loyalties lay in terms of her writing’s subject matter, “I am bored by domestic problems, and am allergic to domestic settings…I succeed best with heavy drama” (Berney, 82). Watching Bujold’s fiery and irrepressible depiction of Anne and her blunt, unforgiving mannerisms, viewers would agree heartily.
Bujold’s captivating performance earned her a Golden Globe and an Oscar nomination; reviews raved about the power with which she had orchestrated her depiction of one of the most famous women in history, with the New York Times singling her out as giving the “best, most complex performance of the film” (Erickson). Yet it was the speech at the end that remains the most memorable; a slip of a girl, uncaring about her impending demise but stubbornly determined to have the final say. Feminist intended or not, that is the impression it leaves, and the image it imparts on the audience. And in my opinion, an incredibly uplifting one.
WORKS CITED
Contemporary British Dramatists Edition 1. K.A. Berney (Ed). Michigan: St. James Press, 1994.
Routledge International Encyclopaedia Of Women: Global Women’s Issues And Knowledge. Cheris Kramarae and Dale Spender (Eds). Oxon: Routledge, 2000.
As a lifelong fan of Stephen Fry, any of his interviews, address, comedy sketches or debates impress themselves on my mind as singularly magnificent pieces of rhetoric. However, recently I found myself repeatedly watching one particular piece of footage. In 2011, he addressed a gathering of students at the Oxford Union. His impassioned account of the life of Oscar Wilde was riveting to listen to, but his closing comments were an ode to Bohemia, “the land you should never ever leave”. It left me contemplating the actual meaning of the term “Bohemia”. Good old Wikipedia will offer you the most basic summary of the culture it is founded on- Bohemianism. “The practice of an unconventional lifestyle, involving musical artistic or literary pursuits”.
But does Bohemia, as a place, exist? In Fry’s speech, he seems to argue that such a place exists in the living space of the mind, that which drives creativity and freedom of thoughts. That said, it doesn’t mean that artistic innovators didn’t attempt to create an actual, physical manifestation of their liberal train of thought. With every generation of Bohemian culture, came an attempt to form a community whose society would thrive entirely on the principles of liberal art and life practices. Montmartre in Paris, the darling of the Belle Epoque, was a thriving community of art, music and literature. Artists such as Cezanne, Toulouse Lautrec and Van Gogh found a haven in which they could experiment with groundbreaking art subjects and techniques (Frey, 4). However, by the end of the mid 1890s, this idyllic vision shattered with the commercialization of the Moulin Rouge, the centrepiece of Montmartre’s revolutionary aesthetic. Hardly twenty years later, London and Charleston in Sussex made a claim for the title of the Bohemian capital, as the homes of the Bloomsbury Group. According to Kate Whitehead, the group appeared to thrive on the concept of a community; the choice of Bloomsbury as a name would suggest so as it evoked an aesthetic of place (Blair, 813). Their position in society as a widely famous artistic circle seemed to cement the opportunity for a thriving bohemian sect to blossom in the west London district of Bloomsbury, or Charleston where the group later put down more permanent roots. Unfortunately, the deaths of various original members and a loss of focus on Bloomsbury as a body meant such aims fast faded. The worldwide resurgence of bohemian culture in the 1960s seemed to assure a physical sphere for the arts would soon exist. Greenwich Village came to prominence as an artists’ haven during this period, notably home to poets from the Beat Movement such as Allen Ginsberg (Greenwich Village Society For Historic Preservation, ONLINE) . However, once more the notion of a cultural capital died down with the disillusionment of the revolutionary aspect that had spearheaded the movement.
Moulin Rouge, Montmartre 1900Stephen Family Home, BloomsburyBloomsbury PlaqueGreenwich Village, 1960s
Still, the point of the matter remains that these cultural hubs existed. For landmark artistic development there was a physical thriving locale, however temporary. They offered an aesthetic of the kind of communities artists sought to flourish within. Perhaps most importantly, the very presence of these communities gave the assurance of support to artists, the comfortable knowledge of a united front for their cause. To this end, they were very public. Is there such a place for artists today? An area that loudly proclaims itself first and foremost an artists’ dominion, a haven for its residents to experiment with and further their talents? The answer is most likely to be no. The closest resemblance to an artist’s community at the present day is Hollywood, which can never quite portray the liberating spirit that pioneered their forerunners as they are primarily a commercial enterprise. Commercial is dictated by what is popular, and does not represent the communal spirit of art. Lyotard hints about the dangers of exchanging art for the mechanical and modern (Lyotard, 143-144); therefore Hollywood as purely a neutral celebration of the aesthetic stumbles due to its heavy emphasis on film as a commodity rather than an art.
In a world with more avenues for artistic endeavour than had previously existed, it seems astonishing that a community that offers a haven to devotees of the arts has not made itself known. Benjamin’s examination of mass production concentrates on film possessing a faster method of reaching its audience physically and psychologically. This is an example of the modern day. Surely when art forms are within easier reach than they have ever been, it offers ample opportunity for establishing an art capital? Then again, when art reaches the masses in such an immediate form, it detracts from the need of a gathering in a particular area. In each of the revolutionary art phases of the previous decades, a community of the arts was founded on a need to be in that particular place. More often than not, cities held the keys to artist society, thus people would travel to be there and these trademark communities were created.
Maybe this once more goes back to what Mr Fry spoke of. We each create our own Bohemia through the life of the mind with the information we possess, our own world of liberal ideals that manifests itself in our artistic creations. Nevertheless, you cannot but help musing with some nostalgia at the past, when the art capitals of our imagination actually took form and, for however short a time, were upheld as a dream that became reality.
Frey, Julia. Toulouse-Lautrec: A Life. London: Weidenfield & Nicholson, 1994.
Blair, Sara. “Local Modernity, Global Modernism: Bloomsbury And The Places Of The Literary”. EHL Vol. One No.3 (Fall, 2003). Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 2003. <http://www.jstor.org/stable/30029943>
Modernism/Postmodernism. Peter Brooker (ed). Essex: Pearson Education, 1992.
Rebecca Fitzgerald 