western feminism

No Permanent Waves: Recasting Histories of U.S. Feminism

admin — Wed, 12 May 2010 00:00:00 +0000

As an undergraduate, my major was Women’s Studies, so I’ve read my fair share of feminist texts over the last several years. It’s hard to find one that offers a new perspective or, at least, a perspective different enough to satisfy both the expert and the novice. That said, I think No Permanent Waves does a good job of it by covering the fundamentals—women’s history, and issues of race, class, and sexuality—as well as topics like hip-hop feminism, religion, and sex work, which don’t generally make it to academic anthologies.

For example, the New York City tenant movement is something that I have very little knowledge of. This topic is something I encountered briefly in a couple of history courses and the occasional segment on television programs about New York City history. Certainly the role of women in this movement was even further from my mind, at least until I read the chapter by Roberta S. Gold about intergenerational feminism in the tenant movement. Although the piece centers on the tenant movement of the 1960s and 1970s, it does include some historical background information and lays a strong enough foundation to serve as context for New York City’s landscape in the 1980s and 1990s. I found it one of the most interesting chapters in the book, and one I didn’t expect in a feminist anthology.

Another thing I particularly enjoyed about the book is that, while it’s clear No Permanent Waves is more of an academic text than something like, say, Sisterhood, Interrupted, Full Frontal Feminism, or even Manifesta, the language is still very accessible. It’s possible that my reading of it is skewed because I’m used to academic texts that are dry, analytical, and dense, but I found that none of these words would accurately describe No Permanent Waves. Instead, most of the pieces in this book are easy to understand and follow, even as they delve into identity politics, intergenerational issues, women’s history, and so forth.

My one criticism of the book is that the chapters don’t flow very well. The book is divided into three sections: "Reframing Narratives/Reclaiming Histories," "Coming Together/Pulling Apart," and "Rethinking Agendas/Relocating Activism." While these titles generally reflect the pieces included in that section, they’re also very vague, and therefore, end up with a few pieces that could easily fit into a different section or that don’t adequately fit into any section. Part of feminism is the idea of rejecting labels and it’s difficult to categorize things that touch on so many cultures, philosophies, and moments in time, but it still seems a bit disjointed to go from reading about church women in the nineteenth century to President Kennedy’s Commission on Women.

I have to admit this is a small criticism about a great collection of writings. I learned much more from this work than I expected to, and enjoyed reading through No Permanent Waves more than any general feminist anthology I have read in some time. I could easily see this as the first volume in future anthologies, each looking at the role of women and feminists in various other movements and critical moments in time throughout history.

Written by: frau sally benz, May 11th 2010

American Catfight: Political Wisdom for Women and Other Thoughts Towards Feminine Statecraft in the 21st Century

admin — Wed, 17 Mar 2010 16:01:00 +0000

By Maryann Breschard

52 Women

The biggest obstacle to women, according to Maryann Breschard, is other women. In American Catfight, Breschard posits that even the best-intentioned feminists have, along the way, exploited and undermined other women in their mad dash to power.

Breschard identifies several types of women who prevent other women from succeeding: haters (those who disempower and disenfranchise women they believe are “wrong” or “bad”), perfectionists (women who write off anyone who does not fit their narrowly-defined model of the “right” woman), and femamentalists (women who believe feminism is a “big tent” theory that should advocate for a wide range of issues, including LGBT rights, the environment, and more). Breschard primarily uses anecdotal evidence to support her definitions and observations, bouncing from a rant about Martha Stewart on one page to a critique of the Human Rights Campaign the next.

She then pivots to another modern-day catfight among women in her critique of the wedding-industrial complex. Commenting that, “many women today are similarly fraught about their identity and their dreams when entering marriage,” she suggests that women put away issues of identity and concern for feminist politics upon getting married. This change in priorities—which she dubs femipause—creates divisions and downright hostility between married women and single women. This is a point where in-depth research or quantitative data would have helped flesh out Breschard’s writing and lend a sense of credibility to her work. Instead, Breschard’s anecdotal stories of friends who have gotten married and become disengaged from her social circle do little to build out the concept of femipause or position herself as an authority in her writing.

The book concludes by stating that women are “poised to govern” in the twenty-first century, and Breschard provides several recommendations for feminists looking to do so. Some—like her recommendation that feminists simplify and focus upon certain core elements of feminism—are littered throughout her book and should come as no surprise to the reader. Others—such as putting more women in governorships across the country—are legitimately insightful, but come out of left field.

Ultimately, American Catfight is marred by its inability to synthesize the various political theories, pop culture musings, and personal ramblings of the author into a piece of writing that informs and engages the reader.

Written by: Gwen Emmons, March 17th 2010

When Everything Changed: The Amazing Journey of American Women from 1960 to the Present

admin — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 01:00:00 +0000

By Gail Collins

Little Brown and Company

Oh, Gail Collins, you had me at New York Times columnist. Maybe it’s because I’ve lived away from New York for so long now and have to read it online most of the year, but holding printed and bound words from a witty Times writer in a book that I can dip into for a few minutes, or a hour, whenever I like is brainy self-indulgence that I can say yes to.

My mother grew up in the ‘50s and ‘60s, and I’ve always had a thing for vintage and retro pop culture. If this is you, too, you’ll quickly find yourself on board as well, Times fetish or no. The ‘New Yorkness’ of Collins’ writing style is so readable that the broad range of subjects covered in its 405 pages are cohesive and coherent. As for the title of the book, it had me thinking immediately—I had a mini-epiphany before even cracking the cover—of course, then it all changed.

When Everything Changed contains facts I should have known, such as the shock-value of women wearing trousers, archaic divorce laws with state-by-state variations that virtually trapped women in marriage, and the ‘speed-dating’ approach many women took to college in the '60s, using higher learning as a way to find a husband. The chronicles pivotal moments in our recent feminist history—from things that seem simple, like adhesive maxi pads, to nation-altering events, like the Equal Rights Amendment.

Readers of all ages will enjoy finding their decade in the chronology. The conclusions Collins draws about each era are deft, trustworthy and cogent. It is interesting to see Collins assert that that we are a part of living history, and that these changes, while feeling slow, have been swift in the grand scheme of things. This book is hard to stop reading even if you meant to leave some for later. It flows so well and is written in such a conversational style that I found it easy to carry on for a few more chapters.

The picture section seemed unnecessary to me. I wanted big, iconic illustrations throughout, or none at all, but that’s a small criticism for a largely excellent read. This book is a primer, of sorts, but I felt that the way the images were presented was more cursory than inspiring. The words alone are enough to encourage readers to find out more. Should gender studies, or women’s history be offered as a high school module or elective, I’d recommend this book, or extracts from it as an introductory text.

Based on my enjoyment of When Everything Changed, I’m also interested in tracking down Collins’ precursor to this book: America's Women: 400 Years of Dolls, Drudges, Helpmates, and Heroines. This is a more mainstream feminist text than I’ve read in a while, and I was almost put off by the schmaltzy tone of the book jacket, which I interpreted as lauding Hilary Clinton’s presidential campaign as a symbol for the be all and end all of women’s equality. This tone continues in the final chapter itself, which I found to be a dissatisfying gloss over of the achievements of all American women, rather than just the privileged few in mainstream politics. Moreover, the stylistically vague 'gloss' of American women can be interpreted as a very real slight, considering the minimal representation of women not from the U.S.

Most interesting to me is the epilogue section. While some of it is depressing, the fates of some of the figures mentioned in the book are quite uplifting. There’s even a witty bit about Barbie dolls. Overall, the book is enjoyable and informative. It serves as an inspiring reminder of not only when it all changed, but how it all changed.

Written by: Chella Quint, February 17th 2010