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.

Smashing the Patriarchy with Gilman

 Much like Dr. MB statement about the definition of Utopia, I do not mess around with the definition of feminism. Whether it is good or bad, it is still a Utopia. I do not humor people who claim we should really be humanist or that feminism is misandry at its finest. No. Just no. Feminism has undoubtedly changed over time and we have to acknowledge that before anyone writes this book off as not feminist. It is, but not in the way we think of now. Even the feminism of 2015 is radically different than the feminism of 1995, much less 1915.  We should not be afraid to call this a feminist work. We really should not be afraid of the word at all. Feminism is not about man hating, it is about gender equality. Feminists just want to "smash the patriarchy" and make sure we all have equal rights. That is all.

Now that that is out of the way...

I think this book is inherently feminist even though it may not seem so at first. While we wonder why she started out so great with her all female society and then succumbed to what we deem a less feminist ending, I think she did it on purpose for a variety of reasons. The most glaring is that she really intended to juxtapose the two worlds so that in making a shocking world only focused on females and the female perspective, it really forces one to look at the current male society. By showing an almost overbearing female society, Gilman really points out the double standards of the present. Terry, Jeff, and Van (though Terry mostly) really react to being confined and being treated as somewhat lesser. They are always watched, much like women in Gilman's society were always being judged and kept on a short leash that did not extend too far outside the home. One of my favorite double standards that Gilman subtly addressed is the idea of maternity. Many people have this idea in them that all women want to be mothers. Gilman certainly plays on that idea in the female society she writes about, where motherhood is exalted. However, when the men are formally joined to their "wives" the burden of fatherhood is suddenly thrust upon them. Terry exclaims, "Fatherhood! As if a man was always wanting to be a father!" (106). By Terry pointing out that not every man wants to be a father or is enraptured by it, it makes one think then of the reverse view of modern society and presents a novel idea: not every woman wants to be a mother.

Another reason for the switch to a love story and inherently less feminist to some, is that Gilman is commenting on the fact that males and females really need to work together to find a middle ground. Gilman presents various stereotypes of man. Terry is the burly manly man who represents masculinity in all its glory. Jeff represents men who see women as a beautiful idea rather than a person (manic pixie dream girls, anyone?). Then Van represents the middle ground. We are meant to think Van is a great guy. In this regard, I think Gilman is calling for men to set aside a hyper masculine way but also to not be too disillusioned with the woman spirit as well. We do not need to be worshipped, just equal.

Finally, the books reversion to needing men to survive I think is a call by Gilman admitting that there is still a long while to go. I am somewhat reminded of The Awakening (which you should all read if you have not) where the main character breaks free of her womanly duty and is a woman on her own but ultimately ends up *spoiler alert* committing suicide in the end as she cannot fully escape. I think the way Gilman ends Herland is similar. She acknowledges the desperation she must be feeling. She can be an activist and write stories with feminist messages, but that does not always equate to results. In her ending, Gilman admits this is a hard fight that is not won and may seem hopeless at times. I certainly commend her for her contributions.

Sir/Saint Thomas Moore

I would like to first state a surprising fact I found. As I was driving to campus with my roommate, I was telling her I was reading Utopia by Sir Thomas Moore. She replied, as she went to Catholic school, that Thomas Moore was a canonized Saint in the Roman Catholic church as a martyr of the reformation. I found this intriguing as we refer to Saint Benedict and Saint Augustine by their canonized titles, but not Moore. I guess all of Moore's other accomplishments, such as his role as Lord Chancellor and his classic works outweigh his sainthood. So do we look at Utopia from a religious perspective the same way we look at City of God? I would inherently say no, but I think his religious background perhaps comes into play as he describes Utopia. Utopia is not Heaven and I do not think Utopia is a religious text at all, but I think elements were definitely taken from it.

For example, Moore places men in the characteristic head of household saying that "wives are subject to their husbands" and that "the head of household looks for whatever his family needs" (50). We discussed earlier how in past days, the head of households were not only responsible for taking care of the household but also their salvation. It would not have made any sense for Moore to exhibit other views about women at the time, though women did contribute to society in that they had assigned work. Even though Moore did use the phrase "weaker sex" on page 42, I will of course forgive his sexism because of those olden times he lived in. When he also mentions the religion of the people of Utopia on page 60, it sounds very similar to the Christian tradition; monotheistic, there is an afterlife, and good deeds on earth pay off in the end.

Anytime we talk about Utopia and whether it is good or bad, of course our morals come into play. I think there are a lot of good things in Utopia that we can all agree are good. Required farming so everyone has food seems pretty okay to me. Having people not covet money seems awesome! Venerating those that did not choose the academic life and instead chose trades and appreciating their contributions to society is something we talked about on the first day. Sure enough, this is discussed early on in the text. Moore obviously chose the way the people of Utopia lived based on what he deemed a morally good society. For him, and many others that are of Christian faith, these morals come from what their higher power deems right and wrong. Most of us being brought up in the society we live in which is bombarded with similar morals, whether we are believers or not. It does not suprise me that people genuinely like Utopia and think it is a cool place.

I am interested when we move on to sci-fi and more godless societies to see how our morality comes into play with liking or disliking the texts. Until then, I will think on the crescent island and its unreachable "perfection".

Utopia... and More Utopia

(There's nothing like starting a blog with a pun :p)

Sir Thomas More's Utopia is most famous for surviving on an economic theory we would refer to as communism. Everyone works for the society, and anything they produce is not privately owned but shared equally by the society. They have no money, except in a large communal treasury (or junkyard) to be used as a tool against foreigners. This economic system is one that, as we all know, always makes the most sense, and works fairly well in microscopic communities. But whenever it's applied to a large group of people, something always goes wrong. If this island were real, for instance, we would expect it's economy or government to collapse within a few years, let alone the 1,800 years Hythloday boasts of. The reader wonders why every citizen doesn't say "why should I work 6 hours a day? Don't we all live in abundant supply? If I work 5 or 4 hours, and spend the rest of the day in Epicurean pleasures, do I not end with the same lot? In fact, why should I work at all if everyone else will supply my needs?" While most people write off Utopia as either impossible or another example of a tiny community, I believe that Sir Thomas More did think of that problem, any answered it with the one thing every Marx, Mao, and Lenin completely missed.

The figures given of Utopia proves that we're not dealing with a small, classless state, as we're used to today. Because Sir Thomas More lived in an era of what we would "proto-novels", a lot of his details are much more precise than any Utopian work before him. Like many writers after him, he uses these details to give a sense of how big the island is, and therefore justify using a complex system to run it. He says that there are 30,000 people for every Syphogrant, and 200 Syphogrants all together, and therefore giving a total population of 6 million (more than twice the size of England). He says that there are 16 people per family, and 6,000 families per city, giving the total size of each city as more than 78,000 people (rounded to 100,000 in the footnotes, much larger than the average city in Europe). This size is exact for every city, because the laws force people to move if the numbers change. This means that there are 3 Syphogrants per city, as Hythloday confirms. Because there are 54 cities, then that approximates the urban  population to 5.4 million, meaning that about 600,000 live in the country. The island itself is circular shaped, with a diameter of 500 miles (or 800 km). That gives a total area of about 500,000 km2, which is twice the size of the British Isles, and closer to Madagascar. As there about 300,000 families, that means (in terms of population density) that every family gets about 1.6 km2, which is good because every family needs a farm. These figures make it even more remarkable that Hythloday boasts of 0% unemployment. But those who don't contribute to society are made slaves, and Hythodolay never mentions how many slaves there are, so we don't know what the actual unemployment rate is.

Anyway, now that this has proven that we're dealing with a developed, urban society and not a group of "noble savages", we come back to the original problem: how can we get 6 million people to contribute to society in an unbiased manner, without falling into sloth or greed? Sir Thomas More's answer is, surprisingly, very similar to the solutions of both Plato and Augustine before him: religion and philosophy. Everyone in the community, and therefore everyone who works, holds to the belief in an overarching deity that both created them, and holds them accountable to their actions. Not that people work out of fear of Mithra, but rather they see the goodness of God as analogous to the harmony of soul and body. Mithra looks faithfully over them, not merely as a judge, but as a bill of rights that everyone can turn to for absolute standards. All other traditions, philosophies, and sciences may vary among the citizens of Utopia, but this one fundamental axiom remains constant, like a cornerstone to their society. Once that is established, not only do all the citizens gladly work 6 hours a day, but improve their society to create new development of science and mathematics.

But what happened to the communist manifesto of Marx, Lenin, and Mao? Religion is merely the "opiate of the masses," and people are expected to work for the society simply for the sake of society, and nothing greater. The "enlightened" thinkers had dimmed their minds by rejecting the only thing in the world that is indispensable.

It's too bad that I have no skill in art, as it would complete my life to see Sir Thomas More's face Photoshopped into a stereotypical communist propaganda poster, perhaps with Plato and St. Benedict behind him.

Legitimacy in the City of God

I was intimidated before reading this based on what Dr. MB said in class. I have not taken an English class since senior year of high school, so I think you can imagine my fear. However, I trusted my Lutheran upbringing and tried to go into this with an open mind, like always. What I found was a text riddled with what one classicly sees when dealing with Christian theological texts. The phrases seem long and circular, but really everything just leads back to God. All answers for moral questions brought up in the Earthly City lead back to reasoning based solely in scripture and the Word of the Lord, and that we cannot hope to be happy or perfect in this earthly place when the perfect City of God is waiting for us.

I think what is interesting to me that popped out right from the beginning was how the City of God gains legitimacy. Many utopias or utopian stories are just that: stories. Plato's Republic describes Socrates and his friends coming about the perfect city and in turn the perfect citizen, but it never is seen as real. For St. Augustine and many, many people, the City of God is a very real place that we will one day be able to live. I think that makes this text rather interesting, though. Rather than philosophizing about an ideal city that is not real and inherently unattainable, St. Augustine discusses what he believes to be a real, and attainable, perfect place. For St. Augustine, and his readers, there is no debate about whether it is possible, because it already is in existence. We just have to get there.

The context is also everything for this writing. It occurs after the Fall of Rome where people were scrambling for meaning and a sense of community. The great empire of Rome has fallen and these people are no longer the most powerful. In the classic days of Rome, the Gods were to blame for good and bad happenings, so naturally people were turning to God to blame for the ruin. St. Augustine, being the saint he is, took this opportunity of despair from the people to evangelize like no other (except that the majority of the population could not actually read what he wrote so who really knows how good he was). He spreads the "good news" and tells the lost sheep that God is not to blame for Rome's destruction because how could things not go wrong in the Earthly City? He mentions how our Earthly city was founded in selfishness and speaks of a city founded on the greatest love of God (393). That seems pretty great to someone who suffered in the Fall of Rome. Is the idea not tempting of a place founded in love and not hate (unless you are an inherently wicked sinner. They are not invited to the party, of course), one where we are protected by God's Divine Grace? Throughout the rest of the passage, Augustine just continues to mention the impossibilities and wrong doings of the Earthly city and continues to make points about how much better this City of God is and will be when/if we get there. We will no longer be tempted, we will be free of our earthly tethers, and we will know true peace. He rejects the old way of thinking, the old philosophers, and dismantles the idea of a commonwealth of the people in the Earthly City later on.

This text overall I just find to really be harkening to our human nature of wanting community in some way. For the people of Rome who are undergoing turmoil, I am sure they were looking for a sense of community too. Is it too cynical to say that perhaps Augustine is taking advantage of that fear and using promise of a perfect community to spread Christianity? Perhaps, but is there no better setting to spread beliefs and doctrine than in times of trial?

A Tale of Two Cities

As I read theses passages, I was constantly looking for where some sort of description of the City of God might be, so that I can properly compare it to the Republic. But unfortunately, Augustine does not go into every tune and pastry like Plato does, but instead sets out a fairly broad view of two cities. One city based on a love of pleasure, and the other based on a love of God.

Many people may get confused as Augustine doesn’t go into nearly as much detail with his utopia as Plato. But one reason for this is because Augustine doesn’t disagree with Plato on many of the minute aspects of society. For instance, on the subject of enforcing justice he says that the City “needs make use of this peace also” (877), and on the subject of socializing, “the philosophers hold the view that the life of the wise man should be social, and in this we support them much more heartily” (858).

Augustine’s primary focus is to criticize aspects of Platonic philosophy in light of Christian theology. In our class discussions, we concluded that Plato’s republic would fail because injustice comes from human nature (the fig-stealer). Apparently, Augustine felt similarly, for he states “the story of mankind is full of them at every point: for in that story we are aware of wrongs, suspicions, enmities, and war” (858). Whereas Plato gave reasons for the Republic to start wars, Augustine wars to “consider the scale of those wars, with all the slaughter of human beings, and all the human blood that was shed!” (861). Finally, and most importantly, we remember that Plato established his society on the grounds of certain immutable virtues, such as moderation and justice. Augustine, however, goes through these virtues one by one, and points out that they are impossible to fulfill because of human nature (854).

Instead, the single virtue that Augustine places at the head of his society is peace. But this peace is not of an earthly focus, which Augustine calls “a kind of compromise between human wills about the things relevant to mortal life” (877). But rather, he defines this peace as focus on eternal life in Heaven (865). In other words, Augustine is proposing a kind of theocracy where focus on God is the primary foundation for all aspects of society. Whereas Plato focused on education, and considered religion to be one aspect of it, Augustine instead believed that education without the proper religious backing is worthless.

That’s another reason why Augustine is so vague with his description of the City. He believed that the minute aspects of society don’t really matter so long as the right religion is established. In his own words, “She takes no account of any difference in customs, laws, or institutions, by which earthly peace is achieved and preserved – not that she annuls or abolishes any of those, rather, she maintains them and follows them, provided that no hindrance is presented thereby to the religion which teaches that the one supreme and true God is to be worshipped” (878).

I find it fascinating that even today, many religious people would agree with Augustine’s basic premise: the City of God, which focuses on heavenly things, will ultimately survive, whereas the City of Man, which focuses on earthly things, will ultimately perish. Many evangelicals today point out governments that abolished religion, places like Cuba, North Korea, the Soviet Union, and the French Directorate, and conjecture that they all failed because they threw out the out the only indispensable piece of society.