Book 19 - Princesses & Pornstars

Here's something a little left of my usual reading centre. Princesses and Pornstars: Sex, Power, Identity by Emily Maguire is a fascinating and frank analysis of the roles and images of women as defined by our modern, supposedly "post-feminist" society. Maguire draws on the messages of everything from raunch culture to the modesty movement, sex education in schools to porn, marriage to same-sex relationships, plastic surgery to dieting and tabloids. She uses personal anecdotes, interviews, media and scholarly studies to point out how women's roles are still very much defined by their relationship to the male, and not necessarily in a positive way.

This book is absolutely packed with insight. It's told in a conversational style and is therefore thoroughly readable without compromising on the issues it is discussing. Here are just a few of the key messages that stood out for me:

- School sex education usually covers the mechanics of getting pregnant and how to avoid it (protection, abstinence). It rarely covers the reality of teen sex - how to comfortably say no (even in the middle of things), how to actually initiate sex (it's not always the boys!), other "forms" of sex and whether they're safe, how to make it pleasurable for both parties (and this doesn't always mean boy-girl either). Alternative sources of education are very male-centric - porn, raunchy music videos etc. I was vaguely alarmed by her interview with three teenage girls who knew and would talk about every way of pleasing a boy but clammed up completely when it came to their own pleasure.

- Girls are constantly told how to stay "safe" and avoid being raped. Maguire asks: why not direct the rape prevention message at boys? As she points out: "Of course not many boys will grow up to become rapists, but that's no reason not to direct the message at them. Not a single woman has caused her own rape, and yet girls are bombarded with advice that can do nothing except cause our would-be rapist to find a different victim" (p79).

- When it comes to career and motherhood, societal pressure and government policy push women into an either-or situation about staying home. Maguire also points out the idea that women "naturally" know how to look after babies and children is a load of guff. With the exception of breastfeeding, a person of any sex can change a nappy or supervise a child. The difference is that an expectant mother tends to read books, seek out advice and support from others and generally learn parenting on-the-job. There is no reason a man couldn't do any of this - if the incentive to existed. And in our current society (with the exception of single dads) it rarely does.

These are just a few of the ideas at play in this book. While I wouldn't ascribe to everything in it blindly, it did help to clarify my concerns with certain trends I've noticed in our current society, and open my eyes to a whole bunch of others. And I wholeheartedly agree that we need continue pushing for the ultimate goal of Maguire's style of feminisim - that each woman be seen as an individual member of society with various choices, beliefs and lifestyles first, rather than simply as a "woman".

Book 19 - Anne's House of Dreams

When I chose something to read, I am usually following one of two inclinations. The first is to try something new, to read about a different life or culture or concept. The second is to engage with the familiar - to reconnect with an old story or friend (and many of the characters in books I read as a teenager did indeed become my friends).

This particular read very much falls into the latter category. I came to the Anne of Green Gables series a little late (age 15 or so), and while I enjoyed the rapscallion adventures of young Anne, it was the books where she was a growing young woman in love that I truly enjoyed - Anne of the Island and of course Anne's House of Dreams.

A little background on the Anne of Green Gables series. Set around the start of the 20th century in Prince Edward Island, Canada, it is the story of a young orphan who well and truly surprises her new family and turns the small town of Avonlea on its head. There are around 7 books in the series, following Anne from childhood through to seeing her own children grow up.

Anne's House of Dreams opens with Anne and her childhood enemy-turned-sweetheart Gilbert arriving at a tiny cottage in Four Winds Harbour to start their married life. The childhood relationships of Avonlea recede with distance and new friendships are forged - with Captain Jim the lighthouse keeper, the unique man-hating Miss Cornelia and haughty Leslie. It is the unfolding history and hidden hurts of these characters that make this a magical read. Captain Jim may have had the most adventurous life, but his heart is with a sweetheart long ago lost at sea. Leslie's pride masks a deep bitterness at the harsh hand dealt to her - forced into a loveless marriage with a man who later suffered a severe brain injury. Anne responds to the people around her in a very Anne-ish way - with great empathy and a hint of creativity. Meanwhile she and Gilbert suffer their own pain, which helps to draw her closer to Leslie and the others around her.

While it has some pretty unbelievable plot twists, the charm of Anne's House of Dreams is in its characterisation. The interaction between the newlyweds and their friends and neighbours makes this a light but pleasant read.

Book 18 - Crescent: A Novel

Crescent: A Novel by Diana Abu-Jaber is one of those exquisite, magical reads that makes me ache with its beauty. Often these books don't have a great deal happening in the plot - it's the descriptive writing and fluid imagery of such works that draws me in and creates a sense of rapture.

"No one ever wants to be the Arab - it's too old and too tragic and too mysterious and too exasperating and too lonely for anyone but an actual Arab to put up with for very long."
Crescent, p. 38

Crescent is a story of Iraqis in exile. Sirine, orphaned daughter of an Iraqi and an American, lives with her uncle, an academic, and works at Nadia's Cafe. Despite never having visited the Middle East, sensually authentic food flows from her fingers. Exiled Arabs from all over Los Angeles and particularly the university where her Uncle works are drawn to the cafe. Regulars include Hanif, a lecturer in Middle Eastern literature, and a slow, almost reluctant love affair commences between the two. No hot-headed teenage love affair, this romance draws on the sensuous maturity of the older pair. Passion is tempered by the mystery and not-knowing of what happened in the magical Iraq of Hanif's past and the war-torn version of today.

Food and storytelling pervade this text like a fabulous banquet and create its magic. Luxurious descriptions of food create a longing for the lost Iraq and a pleasure in Sirine's present world. Even the every-day city of Los Angeles takes on a feeling of mythical wonder, peopled with lonely young photographers, sensual and scheming professors and the love-struck couple.

The storytelling of Sirine's uncle's draws on the magic of Arabia's 1001 nights as well as gently mocking American stereotypes of the legendary Arab. It also creates a reflexive kind of intertextuality, reminding the reader that Sirine and Hanif's story is also a fiction even if the characters have more complexity and authenticity than the Arabs of Hollywood movies. I am inadequate to the task of describing this work's amazing imagery so I will leave you with a final description of the lost Iraq of legend from the storytelling of Sirine's Uncle.

"The streets of Aqaba are shell spirals and, on summer nights, crowded and complicated as women's hearts. Boys sit on the curb and wonder about love, women run their hands through their hair, locks dense with sea salt, men unfurl velvet prayer rugs, hands on their knees, the bow, rise, rock into the sea-waves of prayer."
Crescent, p?

Interlude: Book Indecision

Sometimes I just don't know what I'm in the mood to read. Or there's a book I feel I "should" be reading, but I just can't get into it. And I actually really dislike this feeling - it's the proverbial "I'm booored" as it relates to the reading world. A gazillion books out there, but still "I'm bored".

So what is it that I'm "supposed" to be reading? No. 1 on the "should" list is The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Teenagers. "That's a strange choice", I hear you say, especially as my 10 year high school reunion is on this year. Believe it or not, my doctor recommended it and I don't want to go back to her until I've finished it! I'm not a big fan of self-help plus reading it at work during lunch would be a bit embarrasing, so it's been lounging around at home for far too long. I've started it though, and once you get past the high school examples the principles behind it are quite good and the conversational style makes it quite readable.

Next is Baudolino by Umberto Eco. I bought this on sale a year ago because I love Eco. Only problem is he's challenging reading, and since I'm a deadline-oriented girl I tend to ignore my purchased books and work through the library pile before they're due to be returned. So anyway, I've started Baudolino which is set in Constantinople in the 1100's. Good reading but it's an enormous hardcover which rules out taking it on the bus. Yet another book floating around at home.

Princesses and Pornstars is a much more portable work, so I carted it along on the bus yesterday. It's a feminist critique on the modern perceptions of women which has been getting some media lately, and it's highly readable. Baudolino and 7 Habits are in danger of being shunted for this one I'm afraid.

Honourable mention goes to Micah. Yes, that would be from the biblical Old Testament. I am trying to get back into the habit of reading the bible on a regular if not daily basis. The whole theory is to find a daily time when you can dedicate your attention to it and to praying. I have difficulty with that because my day doesn't have enough of a structure to include a set space for that. I shall have to work on it.

I'm also two reviews behind folks - Crescent and Anne's House of Dreams. I hope to get to them tomorrow. Until then!

Book 17 - Stardust by Neil Gaiman

Neil Gaiman is a pretty big thing in the fantasy/horror and comic community. I loved the depth and creative mythology of his Sandman comics, and have heard rave reviews about American Gods and Good Omens. So I guess my standards were pretty high when it came to reading Stardust, recommended by my friend Ozhaggis.

Stardust is the story of Tristran Thorn, born half of this world and half of faery. Raised in the town of Wall, which is just this side of the wall between the two realms, he has no idea of his heritage. At around the age of 17 he impulsively vows to bring the town beauty a falling star in return for granting him his one desire. Of course the star has fallen on the other side of the wall, so he sets off on a quest to find it. Faery being what it is, the star is not a chunk of rock but a girl with a broken leg who strongly objects to being given to someone else. And of course Tristran is not the only one looking for the fallen star.

Overall the interplay of plot and characters is well done, and the play on traditional fairy tale themes is quite clever. But it just seemed a little light to me - some of the characters and sideplots were a little underdeveloped. I think the problem was that I was expecting it to be a more adult fairy tale along the lines of Gaiman's other work, especially as I found it in the Adult Fiction section of the library. In reality it's probably more suited to the young adult audience, 11+. When viewed from the YA perspective it's a pretty enjoyable read and a great way to look at fairy tale themes and plot techniques. I have to say when it comes to modern fairy tales with a bit of meat to them I still prefer Robin McKinley's "Beauty" or the Once Upon a Time series.

Book 16 - Wide Sargasso Sea

Ok, so I didn't read Wide Sargasso Sea this week, and in fact haven't read it since 1999. But the last text of Regarding Jane Eyre, a series of letters by the author Jean Rhys, took me right back to where I started - my year 12 HSC class where we studied both Jane Eyre and Rhys' revisionist novel. It may not have impressed me as deeply as Jane Eyre, but most of it came flooding back after reading these letters. Apologies in advance for errors in plot or theme - as I said, it has been 9 years and unfortunately my copy of the novel is at my parent's house 5 hours from here.

A native of the West Indies and a product of the 20th century, JeanRhys objected strongly to Bronte's portrayal of Rochester's first wife as the mad Creole woman in the attic. It took her years to craft her response: a story of a sensual yet innocent woman named Antoinette Bertha and a suspicious young man who falls violently in love. In the lush and humid tropics lust and Obeah magic clash violently with Victorian prejudice and colonialism. The way I'm describing it makes it sound like a bodice-ripper!

Actually it's quite disturbing - Rochester projects all his inner conflict with his intense passion and sensuality onto Antoinette. His Victorian sensibilities could not handle a sexually responsive wife - as Bronte has Rochester suggest in Jane Eyre, Bertha's "gross sensuality" must have been early symptom of true madness. Combine that with her tainted Creole blood, and Rochester instantly believes the first poisonous story he hears of madness in the family.

What follows is a spiral of cruelty, lust and betrayal where Rochester gradually strips Antoinette of her identity - her friends, her country, her name, until she becomes poor mad Bertha, trapped in an English attic. She can only reassert her identity by burning down Thornton Hall and throwing herself to her death. The question hovers above the text - was Antoinette/Bertha truly prone to madness, or did Rochester drive her to it?

Trust me when I say that you will never look at Rochester in quite the same light again. Don't read this if you object to your heros having feet of clay. It's an intense read ripe with violence and sensuality. One image from the text still stays with me, nine years after reading Wide Sargasso Sea - the image of a moth, drawn to the light and heat of a candle that in a moment of ecstasy will prove to be its doom.

Book 15 - Regarding Jane Eyre

More Jane Eyre folks! I promise I am almost done with the topic.

Regarding Jane Eyre is a collection of writers' responses to Jane Eyre. It's an eclectic little collection, containing excerpts from various biographies on Bronte, some literary criticism, and some fictional writing as well. It's an Australian publication edited by Susan Geason, and several of the texts had a distinctly Australian flavour.

Here's a quick rundown of what's included: an excerpt from the Bronte biographies of Gaskell and Lyndall Gordon; an article on what boarding school was really like at the time (the stories are chilling), a psychologist's analysis of the child abuse and recovery that Jane experienced, questions about where Jane's rage went after Lowood; Amy Witting writing the ongoing story of a very minor character; and Morag Fraser relating the complex relationships of fathers and lovers to her own modern family. I will talk about the other three texts in a little depth as they had more of an impact.

My favourite article was janeyre@window by Carmel Bird (click the title to read the full text online, it's worth it). She has terrific fun identifying all the recurring symbolic motifs within the text - from red, fire and windows to Jane's inherent materialism revealed in an ongoing obsession with describing the furniture of a room. I love recurring motifs and teasing out their possible significance, it's what draws me to poetry as well.

Bird envisioned a cd-rom with a hypertext network of links between all these themes - clicking on "window" in the text would take you to all the other references to window etc. This was probably reasonably groundbreaking, given that it was written in 1996 in the early days of the web revolution. It's certainly a great idea and if it's been done I would like to know about it.

The strangest text was Jean Bedford's Crown me with Roses Pastiche, a somewhat bizarre modern re-imagining of the story where Gateshead is a commune, Lowood is an abusive cult and Thornfield a solitary outback homestead. Let's just say that the ending is nowhere near as positive as in the original text!

The last text, a series of letters by Jean Rhys, actually leads me to her novel Wide Sargasso Sea, which I think deserves an entirely separate review. So sorry, you will have to put up with Jane Eyre for one more post!

My final take on Regarding Jane Eyre: overall I felt there was a bit of an obsession with Jane's childhood and the boarding school, and Rochester suffered significantly under the withering gaze of modern feminism. But nevertheless it is quite a refreshing way to dig deeper into a text without having to resort to the traditional and not always reader-friendly literary criticism.