Women and Literary Production

I'm taking a course in feminist theory this semester, so I thought I'd share some of my reading journal from this week (we're reading from Feminist Literary Theory: A Reader, edited by Mary Eagleton):

            When men control the means of written production, how is a woman to speak publicly? Chapter 2 is concerned primarily with women and literary production: how it has been limited by men, by feminism, by society.  Eagleton indicates these factors kept women from speaking out, and if they did, often their writing was viewed as inferior to men’s.  The two excerpts from Woolf—Shakespeare’s sister and killing the Angel of the House—deal with the difficulties of being a woman who longs to write and wishes to write about her experiences in a woman’s body, but is prevented from doing so: either prevented from writing at all or from writing about ideas that are considered “improper.”  Olsen looks at the silencing of women, which begins at birth and prevents their entry into the class of writers.

            Eagleton’s introduction to Chapter 2 got me thinking about modern means of production, especially the Internet.  Women are among the most active writers on the Internet, with the advent of “mommy blogs” and other communities created by women for women.  Each year, a conference is held for female bloggers (called BlogHer), where they meet and mingle and discuss issues about being a woman and being a public writer.  Many of these bloggers are given opportunities to write books based on their blogs, meaning more women are producing books. While blogging seems empowering for women, since the means of production is removed from male hands, I have to wonder if this trend is simply another way to keep women writing only about “female” concerns: being a mother, cooking, housekeeping, etc.  And obviously among female bloggers there are a good number who are concerned with feminist undertakings (blogs like Jezebel and Feministing, for example) and publish books that question the status quo (I’m thinking, for example, about a book by Jessica Valenti called The Purity Myth, which examines the American obsession with women’s virginity and how it ultimately damages women).  Anyway, are we moving toward a time when women’s writing isn’t viewed as inferior to men’s or women are pushed toward writing about stereotypically female concerns, or does the growth in women writing on the Internet contribute to these trends?  Perhaps, as Woolf says, “So accurately does history repeat itself” (77).

Plodding Steadily

I've been moving steadily through my final assignments. What I have left for the semester:

• one textual editing assignment, due Monday
• one presentation over La Perdida (such a good book!), due Thursday
  
• one 12-15 page paper (probably also over La Perdida)
• one mysterious final project, to be revealed on Monday. (yikes!)

I feel like I have a decent handle on the semester, so that's a nice feeling. The pieces have been falling into place, so I just need to work steadily to make sure the semester ends as a success. Then I can throw an awesome Christmas party!

My arms are sore right now from getting two vaccines, so I'm going to cut this post short. And since I get to leave work at one today, I get to have a bit of a longer weekend...hooray! Hope you all have a good Friday.

Cat Naps and Articles: A Picture Post

My cat, Rory, decided to help me with my homework:





Homework completed with purring furball demanding my attention. It actually worked out fairly well...

Lack of Homework

I have piles of homework. Yet, somehow, I manage to be lazy enough to not do any of it yet. I blame Netflix, Heroes (season one), Lance, and my own desire to bake cupcakes. So in the hour I have remaining, I suppose I shall read Vineland and wonder why I squandered my Saturday.

It was a fun squandered day, however. I got up, checked on the newly fixed kitty in the house, who curled up on me and slept, read a bit of my book, ate some breakfast, strolled down to Farmers' Market (only two left!), baked cupcakes, and cleaned a bit. So, as you can see, I'm quite productive.

I just usually want to kick myself, though. I get to the point of being caught up, have a chance to get ahead, and then all I can do is just be lazy and not do any of the work I should. I do blame the fact that since I work all the time, the only time I have to blow off steam is the weekend, which means I don't wish to spend it doing homework. I am, however, a graduate student, which means I should make school more important.

Thus I sigh, shake my head at my silliness, and attempt to work in a smaller chunk of time. I guess I'll be at the library tomorrow, holed up, awaiting my fate for my lack of diligence...

Lackadaisical

(A word that I was able to spell properly on the first try!)

I wish to drag my feet, but the currents of life pull me along at a sweeping pace. Any attempts made to slow down only result in a backlog of work, stress, and things I desire to do. The work load threatens to strangle me. The unfortunate demise of my dreams to complete my MA in the spring (meaning that I finished it in two years while working full-time, an accomplishment in itself) have contributed to feeling stuck--I thought about leaving after I graduated and moving on. Instead, I stay, though it's not necessarily a bad thing.

I think about my cat. She is busy eating, running around outside, sticking her paws down mole-holes, and trying her hardest to usurp my head's place on the pillow as I sleep. She curls up and sleeps hard, not moving even as I pet her, the deep rumbling from within her furry frame the only sign of her awareness of my presence.

I contemplate diving, the act I finally accomplished three times yesterday evening. I may not be able to jump from a platform, but I dove at last and found it not as bad as I dreaded. I perhaps even enjoyed it, the feeling of directing my body through the water and back to the surface. Like many things I fear and have feared, I find that if I can only get the point of action, the fear lessens, recedes, and becomes manageable. Perhaps this is the first step to overcoming my intense anxiety over leaping from platforms. I have to admit I had to be pushed to dive the first two times, but the third time was the best, when I was able to push myself.

The third draft of my massive paper on Matthew Lewis' The Monk has returned to me, and I find it lacking. And since it is lacking, I have much to do to get it up to snuff. I need to add at least 5 more pages as well as smooth out the writing and add authority and clarity to my ideas. This is my current cause for stress.

I look forward to the holidays: a break from work, expecting sister-in-laws (I found out another one is also having a baby!), gifts, a trip to Spain, and the spirit of jollity that I enjoy. I only hope I can make my way through the obstacles that lie before me until then.

My Working Space

Something has been off since I moved and started graduate school. See, suddenly (because of the change in the nature of my living situations), I didn't have a desk anymore. So I would do homework on the couch, on the kitchen table, and elsewhere, but I always seemed to have problems studying for long. Part of it was the roommate factor, but part of it was the space itself. I didn't have a comfortable space in which to set out all of my school work, a space dedicated solely to reading and writing.

But that has changed. I bought a desk this past weekend, and yesterday I worked to set it up. When I sat down in the chair, I knew that this would be a place, in my room and away from the "social" areas of the apartment, where I could read, study, do my work. It's a nice desk; it has room for my laptop, and little shelves for my Post-it notes. I can line my research guides up along the back for quick reference. I actually have a place to leave my laptop, instead of whatever surface I can place it on in the living room.

We'll see how nice it is to have a nice, private space for working and reading. Hopefully it'll help me keep my head above water when it comes to my homework!