Gilman's half-Utopia

I generally didn't like this novel. Not that I found anything bad about Gilman's Utopia, nor would I mind living there in the slightest. Instead, I disliked the glaring contradictions and discrepancies that made her Utopia entirely unbelievable. Granted, every Utopia is supposed to be implausible at some level, but there's always some way of suspending ones disbelief, which this novel failed to do. While reading this novel, I was comparing Herland as much as I could to the more classic Utopias of Thomas More and Plato. And while both of these classics read as instruction manuals to a realistic society, I could not (in the end) come to see Herland as anything but fantasy.

Let's start with some small, specific issues. At first, the very practical attire for these women made them look very similar to the men, especially with their short hair (27). Yet it's only later on when the men grew out their hair that they mention their similarity, as if the women had long hair (39). By that point, the men had made a thorough study of their language, but they still argued over whether there are any men (38). Realistically, if there hadn't been any men in the land for 2,000 years, it would be quite clear in the language. Words like "man", "he", and general masculine conjugations would be startlingly lacking. And speaking of language, they mention quite famously at this time that they have no concept of virgin (39). But later on, when we see the recorded history of Herland, the first generation of women were called virgins (47). Along the same lines, they had no concept of punishment, either, whether that was criminal, interpersonal, or even philosophical (95). And yet, they had no trouble inventing an entire criminal court system out of nothing just to punish Terry, and in record time (113).

On that note, I find the whole idea that this land could possibly be a Utopia quite fantastic. They have absolutely no incidences of crime (70); not a single one conceives of a horrible idea (94); not even their infants are ever seen crying (88). All I can ask is... why? Sure, we know that they have a culture of "peace, beauty, order," etc. (85), but there is never any explanation why that culture persists, let alone anything that could be construed as an explanation why no one has ever contradicted these values. We remember that there were parts of Plato and More that were pleasant and other parts that were unpleasant. But that's because these writers acknowledge  that people are not robots; there are always going to be bad eggs that need to be dealt with somehow. Morris, as we remember, claimed a change in economy can bring about this culture, but Gilman never uses even that. For Gilman, apparently, all evil can be removed from the world if it was populated by women. (That, and a healthy dose of eugenics (59), which we know everyone loves).

And that's the next thing that I find odd. The whole premise of this story is that all the men were wiped out in a great disaster 2,000 years ago. Other than that, there's not supposed to be anything anthropologically different about this society. The fact that they're cut off from the world is merely a device to prevent men from entering. The parthenogenesis is merely a way of making them independent from men biologically. So when we see that this society is set apart from ours by having no crime, no war, no money, no greed, no wickedness, and no disease, we are left to assume that all these things are caused by men. How interesting is it that such a prominent feminist seems to believe that civilization is the handiwork of men! Inasmuch as Gilman is countering her culture by showing the success women can have in creating a society, it nonetheless hinges on the concept that these women are utilizing skills that are (or were in her time) entirely feminine, thus turning their country into "an everlasting nursery or parlor" (84). It's also clear that these women are not immune to the typical hysterias of the day (94).

The only thing their society lacked was the opposite gender, which Gilman admits is necessary (83). It's for this reason that the women commit themselves to marry the aliens, presumably realizing that they have no idea what to expect except fatherhood. And albeit that the three travelers were rather slow in explaining the concept of relationships, it's nonetheless frustrating that these women never compromised their ways once. For being so liberal, they were so unwilling to bend their pride to the customs of people that they willingly pledged their lives to. The moment that Van explained unconditional love to Ellador (108), which is the only time the women admits the men are offering something worthwhile, is no doubt the sweetest part of the book.