Claire Fahlman

CHID 350 A

Professor Patricia Novotny

May 13, 2018

Women’s Bodies, Women’s Stories: Empowerment and Narrative Change

in Literature and the #MeToo Movement

For much of the existence of human society, women have been marginalized and

deprived of agency. This fundamental denial of rights can be seen in more recent societal

conversations, in which questions such as whether women should vote, be on juries, or even hold

societal responsibilities outside of the household were raised. In recent months, the world has

seen an escalation of interest in women’s place in society. With the advent of the #MeToo

movement, the question now becomes not whether women should have rights and be free from

harassment, but rather when does vigilante justice for men’s misdeeds go too far? Insight into the

new era of female empowerment can be found within the narratives present in western society

for its entire existence. In The Round House, Antigone, and Black and Blue, narratives portraying

women as sexual objects, weak, and submissive to male desire are examined and challenged. The

changes these narratives undergo provide insight into the current climate surrounding female

empowerment.

In The Round House, by Louise Edrich, Sonja is aware of how men view her, and uses

her status within the narrative of female objectification to impart a valuable lesson to Joe. Sonja

is well aware of Joe’s obsession with her sexuality. For much of the story, she lets Joe get away

with it, but during their confrontation she admits that she knew: “But all along you were itching.

Sneaking a good look at my tits when you thought I didn’t know. You think I didn’t notice?” (p.
222) During the same altercation, Sonja turns the tables on Joe after he blackmails her into

letting him watch her dance for Mooshum. Although she lets him watch, she isn’t happy about it,

and her demeanor immediately changes from that of the “cool aunt” to someone sarcastic and

hurt. At the end of the dance, she tosses Joe a tassel she wore during the dance to keep, and he

does:

“I don’t keep the tassel in a special box or anything - anymore…every time I look
at it, I am reminded of the way I treated Sonja and about the way she treated me,
or about how I threatened her and all that came of it, how I was just another guy.
How that killed me once I really thought about it. A gimme-gimme asshole.
Maybe I was. Still, after I thought about it for a long time – in fact, all of my life –
I wanted to be something better.” (p. 223)

Here, Joe is confronted for the first time with the realities of toxic masculinity and his

role within it. He doesn’t like what that means about him and what he did to Sonja and sets out to

be a better man because of it. This lesson was not painless for Joe but did change the way he

viewed women as purely sexual objects. By changing Joe’s narrative, Sonja showed that men are

capable of learning to respect women, but that it takes a strong female voice to do so. While

telling him her story, Sonja spares no blows. Joe is forced to hear Sonja’s perspective and how

his actions have impacted her, no matter how hard it is for him to hear. If the modern wave of

feminism is to last and achieve its aims, women must speak with conviction and power about

their experiences. Women must teach men what they need from them, and with brutal honesty.

Only then will men be able to truly understand what women experience, and how their actions

may contribute to misogyny in society.

Antigone, although overpowered and at the mercy of her uncle Krion, subverts the

narrative portraying women as weak by eventually triumphing over Krion, although at a terrible

price. Towards the beginning of the play, Krion describes losing to a woman as extremely

shameful, and counts this as one of the main reasons he can’t cave to Antigone’s request: “It’s
clear enough that I’m no man, but she’s the man/ if she can get away with holding power like

this.” (p. 39) Here masculinity is seen as a feature of whomever is in power. Correspondingly,

whoever loses is weak and therefore must be feminine. Later, Krion reiterates his viewpoint:

“Therefore we must defend the cause of order, and/ by no means let a woman get the upper

hand./ Better to fall, if we must do so, to a man;/ then nobody could call us conquered by a

woman.” (p. 48) If Krion loses this battle of wills to Antigone, he will feel absolute shame, not

only because he lost but because he lost to a woman. At the end of the play, Haemon stands up to

his father and takes Antigone’s side. This exchange between father and son, coupled with the

intervention of the chorus, is what shifts Krion’s thinking. Haemon’s role as an ally to Antigone

illustrates the power of male alliances in the fight for gender equality. Men are easy to dismiss as

the cause of gender inequality and violence, but this view ignores the caring, intelligent majority

of the sex. The unfortunate reality is that there are men for whom a woman standing up for her

own rights would further ingrain their misogynistic biases. In these cases, it may be more

effective for male allies to act as ambassadors for women’s empowerment towards their less

compassionate peers. While it is not always easy for women, including myself, to understand

that some men are not willing to hear our point of view simply because of our sex, male allies

can be a powerful tool towards achieving the same ends, just through a different method. These

men are ready and willing to explain to their less enlightened counterparts what women need and

why, but first they must be shown how. If women are willing to work through the difficult

exchanges and cultivate male allies, they will be able to sustain and nurture this budding

movement with greater societal support.

By struggling to overcome the narrative that constructs her as subject to her abusive

husband’s will, Fran Benadetto in Black and Blue depicts the difficulties of challenging the
status quo. Before she leaves Bobby, Fran is the consummate victim, overwhelmed by her need

to please her husband, if only to preserve her own safety: “How many times had [Robert] lain in

bed at night just like this and heard the sound of hand against flesh, shoulder against wall, the

sound of the arguments, about dinner, disrespect, adultery, a trip to Dorney Park, washer fluid for

the car, no garbage bags, no rye bread, the wrong kind of mustard.” (p. 32) In order to change,

Fran must leave behind her previous self and become an entirely new person. This is not easy for

her, as she is still captivated by the good times she and Bobby shared: “I didn’t used to be like

that when I was younger, Bob, twenty and twenty-one and full of dreams and plans and love,

because the good times overwhelmed the bad and your hands were gentle more often than they

pushed and jabbed.” (p. 65) The tone of her recollections is wistful, despite the constant terror

Fran lived in for most of her marriage. This wistfulness is what keeps her with Bobby for far too

long, and presents a darker, but perhaps more realistic, insight into the obstacles any sort of

movement for women may experience. As not all gendered interactions are negative or painful

for women, some may find themselves complacent because the good times outweigh the bad, just

as with Fran and Bobby. The woman who roughly pushes Fran to change her identity, and thus

to escape her situation, is seen by Fran/Beth in much the same way she views Bobby. Because

this woman is rough with her and doesn’t explain why she needs Fran/Beth to do what she must,

perhaps to help Fran/Beth, and instead bullies her into compliance, Fran/Beth is resistant and

ultimately rebels against her own best interests. If women are to leave abusive relationships and

learn how to keep themselves safe, they must be taught first what constitutes abuse, and second

that they deserve more. Without gentle and consistent education on healthy relationships and

self-worth for girls, abusive relationships will continue to form and persist. Like the marriage
between Fran/Beth and Bobby, this cycle of abuse will not change unless drastic action towards

education is taken.

The current #MeToo movement confronts many of these narratives and seeks to change

them in much the same way as these novels. Women are no longer simply sexual objects subject

to male desire, as illustrated by the fall of men such as Harvey Weinstein and Louis C.K. No

longer are women to be trapped and alienated from their sexual selves. Like Sonja in The Round

House, women instead must be seen as one human being, replete with many different attributes.

The woman is no longer to be viewed as weak and submissive to men in society, as it takes great

courage for women to publically confront and display their experiences. In Antigone, Krion

controls everything that goes on in his town, much like Weinstein within the movie industry. By

standing strong and questioning his authority to do what he wishes with her, Antigone, like many

#MeToo activists, puts herself at great risk for the greater good. That can hardly be called weak.

The difficulty of achieving lasting change is also exhibited by the movement at hand. Vigilante

justice of the #MeToo style only functions if the man in question is powerful or well-known.

What about the lower-class harassers, catcallers in the streets, or the men that cop a feel during

rush hour and then disappear into the crowded light rail stations, never to be found? It is much

more difficult to raise awareness of and ostracize the anonymous abuser. Women like Fran/Beth

confront this issue each day. Her abuser is connected to a power structure that protects him but is

not particularly powerful himself. For the #MeToo movement to succeed in the long term, these

narratives must be overthrown not just for powerful women with platforms, but for all women,

famous or not. Until the common woman can share her story and access the justice she deserves,

the #MeToo movement will have achieved little.