The Problem of Stories

In essence, fiction, poetry, art, even mythology pose a problem for utopians. Upholders of utopias supposedly like all that stuff (one is supposed to appreciate Art) but art has this difficult-to-monitor tendency to break out in unexpected ways. The Bible is a great example since no matter how many times people attempt to reduce it legalistically to a specific set of rules suitable to a specific social order, other people come along and said, "Hey, look! This story of Joseph--or Exodus--can be used in a completely different way."

Luther started a religious revolution and then lost his cool (which he never had much of anyway) when people said, "Oh, does that mean I can start my own religion!?" 

Consequently, many utopian so-called novels turn into polemics. Even Lost Horizon--which gets the closest to pure story--falters in the middle so Conway can reflect on the meaning of life. 

Preachiness is an aspect of the form. In fact, some utopia tracts are tracts, not novels. Even Samuel Richardson, while writing the Twilight of his day (Pamela), spent a great many chapters wittering on about social propriety and the role of servants, etc. etc. etc. 

The central chapters of Herland are almost entirely "here's how the society works" exposition as opposed to the novella's earlier action and dialog. 

I give a number of characters in His in Herland various reflections on life, religion, industry & economics, education. But I didn't want to lose sight of the narrative arc. I needed to add action! 

Terry was the action! 

Terry's disruptive influence is mentioned in the book, but Gilman restricts that influence to constant arguments between Terry and Alima. In the book, they are basically Ross & Rachel. 

The revolving door relationship actually makes sense but the lack of other avenues doesn't. It is unimaginable that the men wouldn't be put to work doing something. All those jobs Gilman pretends don't exist, like washing dishes and changing dirty nappies. Hauling firewood or whatever fuel the country uses. Building stuff. 

Her men are products of their class and seem to take for granted that they don't have anything to do...so they hang out with their foresting girlfriends/wives all day.

Reality: nobody, male or female, agrees to be bored for that long. Victorian men going to their "clubs" without fail sounds impressively dull. Some men did do this, but many more were involved in philanthropic and scientific societies; the ones who weren't got into trouble with cards, duels, opium, and STDs. 

Van, at least, has the benefit of continuing his work as a sociologist and writer, but there is no good reason he couldn't also be put to work on printing or transcribing books. Doctor Jeff is not expected to keep regular clinic hours, and Terry--the planner and explorer (businessman)--is entirely at loose ends. 

In the central part of the novella, Gilman implies that the men are free to go where they want. There's no reason Terry couldn't simply walk away from (another) argument with Alima and start exploring the way he wants to. Yet he doesn't.

To forestall the obvious, I keep the men more monitored.

And I get Terry into trouble. In his own words, "I was getting ready to broach the subject [of Alim leaving] when I nearly blew everything by behaving like a character in a Rider Haggard novel."

Chapter 11 not only contains a scene of Terry getting into trouble, it challenges an utopian ideal, namely that removing ornamentation (jewelry, hair ribbons, makeup, sports apparel, etc. etc.) will also remove the desire to peacock. The women wear a kind of uniform (Van never notes any radical dissimilarities in dress). Herland heavily implies that the end result is more freedom of the self and equality.

Terry doesn't believe it.

Terry is (mostly) right, as an Ohio State University study discovered. And as Mrs. Pollifax notes in Mrs. Pollifax on the China Station, despite China being a supposedly classless society, demarcations of class are still noticeable: "[P]erhaps [Mr. Li's] attire wasn't modest at all, she thought, as she glanced around and compared him with the other Chinese waiting in line, for his sandals were leather, not plastic."

The individual wants to be heard.  The individual wants to do "my own thing," and should the individual get paid, the individual wants to spend that money on whatever the individual desires. 

No utopia can simply expurgate those impulses. No matter how abstract and philosophical utopians try to be, all those Rider Haggard behaviors--making the wrong things, pursuing the wrong ends, exploring the wrong places--keep throwing characters back into story. 

Thank goodness! 

Chapter 11

His in Herland or Astyanax in Hiding