Classics and the Western Canon discussion

Susan Glaspell’s most widely anthologized work, Trifles (1916), is based on the actual murder of a John Hossack. Glaspell learned of the case when she worked as a reporter for the Des Moines Daily News. Hossack’s wife claimed an intruder killed her husband with an axe. She was convicted of his murder, but her conviction was later overturned on appeal.

The play opens with the local sheriff, the district attorney, and a neighbor entering the house in search of evidence to convict Minnie Wright of the murder of her husband. They are joined by Mrs. Peters (the sheriff’s wife) and Mrs. Hale (the neighbor’s wife). The women are tasked with collecting odds and ends for Minnie to make her stay in jail more comfortable. While the men search for large pieces of evidence or clues to explain why Minnie murdered her husband, the women find a series of seemingly insignificant items in the kitchen area. The “evidence” consists of a dead canary, frozen preserve jars, haphazard stitching on a quilt.

The men search the barn and the bedroom but don’t bother with performing a thorough search of the kitchen area. Either they don’t see the evidence in the kitchen area, or, if they see it, dismiss it as insignificant. Why do they overlook the kitchen area in their search?

Based on their findings, the women arrive at certain conclusions about Minnie Wright’s emotional state, about the nature of life with her husband, and about possible motives for the murder. Are their conclusions warranted?

At one point in the play, Mrs. Hale says, “I might have known she needed help! I know how things can be—for women. I tell you, it’s queer, Mrs. Peters. We live close together and we live far apart. We all go through the same things—it’s all just a different kind of the same thing.” What does she mean by this?

Why do the women conceal crucial evidence that could possibly convict Minnie Wright?

Why is the play called Trifles? Is the title ironic?

http://www.gutenberg.org/files/10623/...

I found that a singularly unpleasant play. But Glaspell makes it pretty clear what happened, doesn't she?

I don't think the title is ironic; I think she's saying that truth sometimes is revealed not in the big things, but that sometimes it is revealed in what seem to be trifles. (Very Sherlock Holmesean; cigar ash, a rope hanging from a ventilator, trifles through which he deduces truth. This play seemed like a Doyle story, the Scotland Yard detectives looking at the big clues and the women as Holmes reading truth in apparent trifles.)

And here I was thinking about-- was it Friends or Seinfeld?-- some 'classic episode' involving an English trifle...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G08pq...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=avE0o...

Everyman wrote: "I found that a singularly unpleasant play..."

Anymore unpleasant than parts of Homer's epics?

I am reminded of a review of The Light Between Oceans and the range of its 225, and counting, comments here: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...

TLBO is also a story of very bad decisions made in socially isolated and physically isolating circumstances. Mrs. Peters comments about her own feelings after miscarriage probably most prompted the connection for me: "I know what stillness is. When we homesteaded in Dakota, and my first baby died--after he was two years old, and me with no other then--I know what stillness is. "

My thoughts also jumped to cases like the deaths of Nicole Brown and Sonny von Bulow, but those were cases in entirely different economic and social conditions (and the victims in those were female).

Christopher wrote: "... some 'classic episode' involving an English trifle..."

LOL. This one needed your segue, Chris.

Everyman wrote: "I found that a singularly unpleasant play..."

Why unpleasant?

This is far less subtle and more polemical than either Wallpaper or Hour and feels more dated in the gender binary where women are intuitive and men factual, but I can imagine it having impact in 1916, perhaps even valued for its bold outspokeness.

I think Trifles can be read as ironic as it refers not just to the 'trifling' clues to what happened in that chill and bleak household, but also to the relatively small event - the strangling of a pet bird - that led to murder. Of course, we can read this symbolically as a stifling of all joy and pleasure, even selfhood, in the wife by the husband.

Interesting to note that he's conventionally a 'good' husband, free from debt and so on, yet is a terrifying and oppressive presence in the play (the rocking chair, for example) even though we don't meet him.

The play sets up a dichotomy between the public sphere and the private sphere. As Roman Clodia noted above, Wright is considered perfectly respectable in the public sphere. His behavior in the private sphere is suspect.

The clues the women find are all gender-coded and it is significant they are found in the kitchen area, a place central to women and one dismissed by the men:

Women are used to worrying over trifles...Nothing here but kitchen things.

This suggests whatever clues women find are deemed insignificant by the men in the play since women worry over “trifles” and are focused on an area men undervalue.

There is even a suggestion Minnie was traumatized. She laughs when she is questioned about her husband and calmly rocks back and forth in her chair while revealing her husband is dead upstairs.

I think the play also raises issues about justice. Was there a different justice for men than there was for women? The women conclude Minnie was abused by her husband so they conceal the evidence. Why? Don't they trust the justice system to be fair to her, to take into consideration the possibility she may have been abused and, therefore, traumatized by her husband?

Tamara wrote: "Everyman wrote: "I found that a singularly unpleasant play..."

Why unpleasant?"

That was a first impression, I think more related to the relationship that the play gradually exposed than to the play itself, if those can be separated.

And the preserves were a symbol of the marriage.

Work hard to lay up the fruit, but all that work will shatter if it freezes.

Which is why the two women want to tell the one in jail that her preserve jars didn't shatter.

I did not find the play unpleasant, even if the story it reveals is horrifying. Mrs. Peters and Mrs. Hale show great insight and empathy with the suffering of Mrs. Wright, and in the end they overcome their natural timidity and take action to protect her as best they can. It is dreadful to imagine the naturally lighthearted Mrs. Wright being slowly crushed by years with her dour husband. There's no indication why she married him, but being a rural woman of limited means she probably had few prospects. Without children to brighten her life, it must have been gloomy indeed. Then she got a canary to provide a little song in her life, and her husband broke into the cage and wrung its neck. I'd strangle him too.

Roger wrote: "I did not find the play unpleasant, even if the story it reveals is horrifying. Mrs. Peters and Mrs. Hale show great insight and empathy with the suffering of Mrs. Wright, and in the end they overc..."

I'm delighted you enjoyed the play.

As you noted above, Mrs. Peters and Mrs. Hale empathize with the suffering of Mrs. Wright. I like how Glaspell shows their empathy toward her from the beginning.

When the County Attorney criticizes Minnie's house-keeping skills, Mrs. Hale jumps to her defense:

There’s a great deal of work to be done on a farm.

When he accuses her of not having a “home-making” instinct as if to imply that is somehow a blight on her character, Mrs. Hale counteracts with,

Well, I don’t know as Wright had, either.

Mrs. Peters’ empathy with Minnie and anger at Wright’s cruelty toward his wife is illustrated when she recalls a boy who killed her kitten with a hatchet:

When I was a girl—my kitten—there was a boy took a hatchet, and before my eyes—and before I could get there—(covers her face an instant) If they hadn't held me back I would have—(catches herself, looks upstairs where steps are heard, falters weakly)—hurt him.

I see a connection between the pieces we have read so far in that the women feel the need to engage in subterfuge. We saw it in The Yellow Wallpaper when the narrator conceals her hallucinations and her writing from her husband; in The Story of an Hour when Louise Mallard conceals her true feelings about marriage; and in this play when the women literally conceal the evidence that might convict Minnie Wright. Also, the women talk in whispers and exchange furtive glances each time the men enter the stage. They deliberately lead them away from the evidence and deceive them about the missing canary.

The play works really well as a detective story -- on both the superficial level where the male characters operate, and at a deeper level that the men cannot plumb.

I'm not sure if the title is ironic, but it's certainly ironic that the real evidence consists of feminine "trifles" that the men disregard simply because they relate to women. It seems particularly stupid of them considering that they are investigating a woman for murder.

Marge Gunderson would have handled this differently...

I had mentioned that this play reminded me of a
sherlock Holmes story and Holmes's focus on trifles. I happened to read "The Man with the Twisted Lip" and found this passage:

It is, of course, a trifle, but there is nothing so important as trifles.

Thomas wrote: "The play works really well as a detective story -- on both the superficial level where the male characters operate, and at a deeper level that the men cannot plumb.

I'm not sure if the title is i..."

Thomas, I agree that the obtuseness of the men here strains credulity. (Something else all three readings have had in common)

I guess they were checking for evidence of an intruder (or lack of evidence), and had not gotten down to seeking a motive (even though the sheriff says all he needs is a motive at the end).

I watch Columbo a lot, and he too starts off with a trifle..

I imagine that gross mistakes in the investigation are not the main thrusts of the play here, but why they were made.

The men in the story clearly treat both the women and their world/things as trifles, It costs them the investigation by blinding them toward seeing both the common cruelty of the husband and the evidence that his wife had the motivation they are looking for to murder him.

Cue Cell Block Tango (He had it coming)
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=qrrz54U...

Christopher wrote: "Thomas, I agree that the obtuseness of the men here strains credulity. (Something else all three readings have had in common)."

Is it an expected feature of feminist literature that the men involved have to be obtuse? Or at least more obtuse than the women? Is there feminist literature with decent, intelligent men? Something to look at in the rest of the works Tamara will be offering us?

Everyman wrote: "Is it an expected feature of feminist literature that the men involved have to be obtuse? Or at least more obtuse than the women? Is there feminist literature with decent, intelligent men? Something to look at in the rest of the works Tamara will be offering us? .."

No, feminist literature does not require that men have to be obtuse.

I think we need to put the works we have read so far into historical perspective. They are situating women at the center of their inquiry in order to demonstrate that the woman's voice has been marginalized/overlooked. The men in these works come across as being obtuse because they reflect the culture that gave rise to them, a culture that was deaf and blind to the woman's point of view. These works are important because they contribute to increasing our awareness and sensitivity toward an area that had been marginalized for centuries.

Nowadays what is considered feminist literature does not necessarily depict men as obtuse. Thankfully, the culture has evolved since then, and men--both in literature and in life--are far more sensitive to women's voices and women's issues. This is reflected in more recent feminist literature. But I thought it was important to include the three pieces we have read so far to gain a historical perspective.

I promise you the rest of the readings do not depict men as obtuse. A Doll's House addresses the issue of class; Shakespeare's Sister concerns itself with explaining why we don't have a female Shakespeare; A Worn Path is about a grandmother's annual trek to get medicine for her grandson; and I Stand Here Ironing is about a mother's struggle with her daughter.

So, in answer to your question, yes, there is feminist literature with decent, intelligent men. But you may not find it in the literature of 100 years ago. I applaud the women who had the courage to shine a bright light on issues that had remained in the dark for too long. We may still have a long way to go--as recent events in the news have shown us--but I believe and continue to hope we are moving in the right direction. And I believe that the three writers whose work we have discussed so far have helped nudge us in that direction.

(Forgive the length of this post. But I sensed your frustration and felt I owed an explanation for my selections.)

I have liked the three selections so far, especially The Yellow Wallpaper.

I especially like that you have found short, free-on-the-web selections (which I guess is the standard for interim reads).

I did not come here to be a troll, or a typically obtuse male (not that anyone has accused me of either), but I am used to stating my opinion- even more so if it's contrary.

I'm sorry if my remarks are too blunt at times.

Christopher wrote: "I did not come here to be a troll, or a typically obtuse male (not that anyone has accused me of either), but I am used to stating my opinion- even more so if it's contrary. I'm sorry if my remarks are too blunt at times. ."

No apologies necessary. I appreciate your comments and insights. I think it is important to hear all points of view because it helps us to maintain balance and deters us from veering too far in either direction.

Tamara wrote: "I think it is important to hear all points of view because it helps us to maintain balance and deters us from veering too far in either direction. "

With that I completely agree!

Tamara wrote: "They are situating women at the center of their inquiry in order to demonstrate that the woman's voice has been marginalized/overlooked."

I think so far, Trifles has best exemplified that sentiment and I like it best. The others, while interesting and worthwhile in their own right, required too many assumptions per their discussion comments. Trifles leaves much less doubt about what is going on. Even and obtuse male reader like myself can see it. :)

Christopher wrote: "
I'm sorry if my remarks are too blunt at times."

So far your remarks have been perfectly in line with the core principle of the group -- disagree without being disagreeable. Blunt is fine as long as it respects others, which your posts have. So no worries or apology needed.

The women work out the real motive because they have clues the men don't--the irregular stitching, the cage, the dead canary. They found these by accident. They also know the perpetrator personally. If the men had those advantages, perhaps they could have figured it out too.

Cphe wrote: "It would have been interesting to know how the trial turned out and I would have liked to have known how many women were on the jury. .."

The trial of John Hossack's wife took place in Iowa. She was found guilty but her conviction was overturned on appeal. Women were not eligible to serve on juries in Iowa until 1920. Trifles was first performed in 1916.

By 1942, only 28 states had allowed women to serve as jurors. In 1947, the U.S. Supreme Court said women are equally qualified with men to serve on juries, but could be granted an exemption if they chose not to serve. The Civil Rights Act of 1957 gave women the right to serve on federal juries but it was not until 1973 that women were allowed to serve on juries nationwide.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Women_i...

The jury situation for women has been similar in the UK:

'The jury had always been a socially exclusive institution, and historically people had to own land of a particular value in order to qualify. Until 1919, women were automatically disqualified from serving on trial juries, and even after this date local prejudices had the effect of keeping women off the jury.[2] The fact few women satisfied the property qualifications until they were abolished in the 1970s also served to heavily restrict the number of women eligible for jury service.[3]' (Wikipedia)

Tamara wrote: "No, feminist literature does not require that men have to be obtuse. ..."

Right now I am reading Louise DeSalvo's reconstruction of Virginia Woolf's first novel, Melymbrosia. Woolf published it as The Voyage Out, after making many changes, some of them reflecting her life journey, others at the advice of those who suggested the original was "not publishable." I am finding Woolf's voice in Melymbrosia more directly scathing of social niceties than I recall in her later works, which seem to me to more clothe her sharp observations in the obfuscations of elite conversation of Britain at the end of World War I (the Great War). While some of the men may sometimes be obtuse in Melymbrosia, so can the women -- and, realistically, most are neither consistently thick headed nor perceptive. To me, it seems a fascinating study of a woman finding her voice.

(Personal note: I have had the privilege of participating in a memoir writing class led by Louise DeSalvo. She is a respected Woolf scholar and a professor in Hunter College's MFA program.)

Tamara wrote: "The trial of John Hossack's wife took place i..."

Here is one account of the John Hossack story:
http://www.asphistory.com/murderesses...

One will note that it is not entirely parallel to the story of Trifles. Such, of course, is the author's privilege.

David @18: Cue Cell Block Tango (He had it coming)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qrrz5...

Hmm -- the difference a century can make in human story-telling? Or does it? (Are these still the Medeas, the witches, the Furies, ...?)

It will be interesting to think back to these tales as we look once again at older classic literature. Just this morning I was reading an article that suggested neither Aphrodite nor Athena had "conservative" female lives as faithful wives and child bearers.

Lily wrote: "Tamara wrote: "The trial of John Hossack's wife took place i..."

Here is one account of the John Hossack story:
http://www.asphistory.com/murderesses...

One will note that it is not entire..."

That's a great find, Lily. Thank you.

Lily wrote: "David @18: Cue Cell Block Tango (He had it coming)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qrrz5...

Hmm -- the difference a century can make in human story-telling? Or does it? (Are these still the Medeas, the witches, the Furies, ...?)"

Are you asking, or just wondering out loud? All things being equal, which is what is generally being requested, we are being asked several questions. When is it ok for anyone to kill someone else, and should there be different standards for women who commit murder than men who commit murder? Or, are there just certain and different sets of considerations that must be in effect to one degree or another?

David wrote: "Lily wrote: "Hmm -- the difference a century can make in human story-telling? Or does it? (Are these still the Medeas, the witches, the Furies, ...?)"

Are you asking, or just wondering out loud? ..."

Really just wondering out loud -- musing on the subject a bit, but not deeply. I initially reacted to the film you posted about the same way I did to the one Chris posted -- surprise, even shock leading to amusement. But then I made a minor second pass, since they are very different (responses to the story at hand?). (I don't know that it matters to the discussion at hand, but I'm probably less sympathetic to Mrs. Wright than some here.)

I'll ask a turnabout question, David -- was there a particular point with the film that you were making and that probably just went right over my head?

Lily wrote: "I'll ask a turnabout question, David -- was there a particular point with the film that you were making and that probably just went right over my head?"

I connected the story to the song Cell Block Tango for a couple of reasons. First both the story and the song involve women who killed their male partner, husband or boyfriend. In the musical, 5 women describe, somewhat humorously, why they are in jail.

One woman shoots her husband/boyfriend for ignoring her request to refrain from the willful and purposely annoying popping of his chewing gum instead and not comforting her after a frustrating day.

A second woman poisons her boyfriend because she finds out he lied to her about being single and is actually a Mormon with 6 wives.

A third woman stabs her husband when he confronts her in a jealous rage with accusations of having an affair with the milkman.

A fourth woman kills her husband and her sister for infidelity.

A fifth woman kills her male partner for infidelity with multiple women.

I can almost hear Minnie singing in the lineup, "he wrung my bird's neck, so I wrung his. . ." Of course the song is intended to be humorous. Why the song can be viewed from a humorous perspective is probably a whole other discussion. However, in real life, they would all be considered crimes of a very serious nature, including Minnie's.

Another reason I thought of the song are the sentiments in the refrain. How do they apply to Minnie's case? And how should they apply in Minnie's case? I think the difference between those two questions is fascinating.

'Cause if they used us
And they abused us
How could you tell us that we were wrong?

He had it coming
He only had himself to blame

If you'd have been there
If you'd have seen it
I betcha you would have done the same!

It was a murder
But not a crime!

David wrote: "I connected the story to the song Cell Block Tango for a couple of reasons...."

Thank you for your response, David. I feel as if you took us deep into how your own mind processed, or at least played with, this story.

The profound questions you pose seem to me beyond what we can probe in a medium like this one, but at the same time, you demonstrate that they can be brought to awareness.

I love the "Cell Block Tango" connection! After all, "Men's hands aren't always as clean as they might be."

I haven't reread this play, but I taught it many years ago in a first-year college class, and one of the young men raised the same complaint about the "obtuseness" (your word) of the male characters. He wrote a quite convincing essay--so convincing, in fact, that I abandoned the play for other works. But, that said, I've also found that often men don't see what women see. If you'll excuse the personal interjection, my own novel has in it several male characters who treat women badly. And--I thought--some good men. Nearly every man who read the book and later spoke to me about it complained that I had drawn the men too harshly, that their behavior wasn't credible. But in visit after visit to book clubs (more than 2 dozen of them), women spoke of the characters as if they understood exactly what had happened, and were often brought to real feelings of anger or tears in response to the story--stronger even than I had expected. How to reconcile the fact that women recognized those men in the book, and male readers did not?

Kathy wrote: "I haven't reread this play, but I taught it many years ago in a first-year college class, and one of the young men raised the same complaint about the "obtuseness" (your word) of the male character..."

Your experience with teaching the play and with the reception your novel received reinforces my own experiences.

I think women "see" things that men don't. I also think the opposite is true. Men "see" things that women don't. But I don't think the way we perceive reality is ingrained in us. It has everything to do with the way we are socialized as male or female, a socialization that begins from the second we are born. We are "trained" to focus on certain things depending on whether we are male or female. It is a learned behavior that can be changed. And I think it is changing as gender roles become more fluid.

I see it happening with my two sons. The eldest is married and has two young children. He is a physician who works taxing hours that prevent him from spending as much time with his children as he would like. However, he is as actively engaged with their care-giving as his time permits--waking up with them at night so his wife doesn't have to; changing diapers; reading them stories; etc. etc.

My husband, on the other hand, seldom participated with basic care-giving. He was raised in a household where men were told to leave the kitchen because that was not a man's place.

Since I was the only female in a house with three men, our conversations at the dinner table when our boys were growing up were boisterous, to say the least. At times I felt I was a lone voice in the wilderness. But I learned to understand their perspective and I continue to rely on my three men to help me see that there is another way of looking at things, and that the truth lies not in either extreme but somewhere in the middle.

Even though we don't always agree, and even though hubby and I still have "boisterous" conversations at the dinner table, my three men have influenced my perspective just as I know I have influenced theirs.

Yes, so true. I see the same with my teenage daughters, who are constantly challenging my generational ideas about gender roles. I can go so far as to imagine, through them, that not only will gender roles disappear in the next generation or two, but so will the whole concept of binary gender! But that may be beyond the purview of this discussion. :)

Tamara wrote: "I think women "see" things that men don't. I also think the opposite is true. Men "see" things that women don't. But I don't think the way we perceive reality is ingrained in us. "

I agree, and I think it extends beyond gender roles. It applies to race and class and probably every other cultural trait we acquire. We don't see things that we aren't acculturated to, which means we can't identify them, and frequently don't understand them. Sometimes, by extension, we develop a distrust for them, or even worse, reject them out of hand. That seems to be what the men in this story do, to their detriment. Glaspell might overplay it a bit, but I think we're more sensitive to diversity issues now than we were in 1916.

Thomas wrote: "I agree, and I think it extends beyond gender roles. It applies to race and class and probably every other cultural trait we acquire...."

I agree with you. And I think we see how it applies to class in Mansfield's The Doll's House.

Thomas said what I would do. It's our bias. If you ask to a white person about racism probably they will say that racism doesn't happen as much as people say, but if you ask to whom suffer it the answer surely will be different. The same goes to gender/sexual orientation. And class too.

Rafael wrote: ",,,,If you ask to a white people about racism probably they will say that racism doesn't happen as much as people say, but if you ask to whom suffer it the answer surely will be different...."

Fascinating comment, Rafael. I am not close enough to the statistics to judge "facts," but I am certainly aware of those who loudly descry so called "affirmative action," even though they may have long belonged to groups that have benefited by suppression of diversity. Sometimes we seem to end up screaming at each other, rather than reaching for understanding. (view spoiler)[A la the Times 2017 "group of the year" cover? I put this in a spoiler because I don't really want to start a conversation on that subject here tonight. But it feels a controversial announcement today that concerns me on whether it will help or hinder our relationships as people. (hide spoiler)]

Everyman wrote: "Is there feminist literature with decent, intelligent men?"

This play really reminds me of a Alice Munro's short story, "Fits". It's still copyrights protected so there's no online version, but it's well-worth a trip to the library for.

Like this play, the story is about a small town, a murder-suicide, and attempts by the neighbor couple to figure out what's going on, except it is told from the perspective of the neighbor husband, who is an intelligent, kind and all-around sympathetic character.

(Sorry about the late posting. I somehow missed the interim read and am just catching up on the jewels that Tamara compiled here.)

Shelley, no worries about the late posting. All the threads remain open so people can read them at their own pace.

I've read some of Alice Munro's short stories, but I haven't read "Fits." I'll certainly look it up. Thanks.

As I think I said in an earlier post in response to Everyman's query about intelligent men in feminist literature, there are a lot of decent, intelligent men in feminist literature, but they don't usually show up until years after Glaspell's play (1916). Alice Munro's work would be a case in point.

Tamara wrote: "As I think I said in an earlier post in response to Everyman's query about intelligent men in feminist literature, there are a lot of decent, intelligent men in feminist literature, but they don't usually show up until years after Glaspell's play (1916)."

I suppose you don't consider Middlemarch feminist literature? =P But then again, I do have a real soft spot for Tertius Lydgate. I will refrain from saying the same about Jane Austen or the Brontes as their heroes are a little too flat and too far along the lines of female fantasies compared to their very full and colorful heroines.

As Virginia Woolf pointed out in A Room of One's Own, male artists, from Aeschylus onwards (and arguably Homer--I personally thought Athena and Penelope were pretty great), have been creating incredible female characters, so one really expects female artists to do the same--create believable, interesting male characters.

I like this play ("Trifles") a lot, and the stupidity of the male characters don't bother me so much, as the men here clearly serve a purely mechanical purpose. However, Everyman's response is a nice point in the direction that feminist literature needed to go to move beyond niche art.

Shelley wrote: "I suppose you don't consider...."

{Smile} I sense velvet gloves concealing (barely?) gauntlets?

Shelley wrote: "As Virginia Woolf pointed out in A Room of One's Own, male artists, from Aeschylus onwards (and arguably Homer--I personally thought Athena and Penelope were pretty great), ..."

It's been years since I last read Middlemarch. I would have to re-read it before I feel comfortable commenting on that or on any of Eliot's other novels.

I, too, like Penelope. But I have a real issue with Athena.

Born from the head of Zeus, i.e. not born of woman, she consistently sided with the male/patriarchy in Greek mythology. At the trial of Orestes, for example, (The Oresteia) the jury was split on whether or not Orestes should be punished for killing his mother, Clytemnestra. Those arguing in favor of his innocence declared he didn't commit a crime in avenging his father's murder since only the father is the true parent of the child. The mother is merely the soil in which the male plants his seed. Athena cast the deciding vote. She sided with the men, declaring Orestes was innocent since no mother gave birth to her and announcing her support of the male in all things.

Needless to say, the Furies were furious.

@Lily: Oh my... no silk glove or gauntlet, just my bare hands, ma'am =)

@Tamara: I was actually thinking Athena in Odyssey--but I hear ya regarding her role in Oresteia.

In the interest of not going too off topic, your comment raises for me the question: what is feminist literature? You had posited earlier the following definition of feminist literature, which I think is quite a good one:

Feminist literature is not only about strong female characters that assert themselves and defy oppression. A simple definition of feminist literature is literature that posits women at the center and explores their experiences and perspectives while articulating the position that their experiences differ from those of men because of historical, cultural, social, political, and economic factors.

Along these lines, may we not see even Aeschylus's Athena as a feminist creation? You're absolutely right in that her path to power is by siding with the male, but this is a social reality for women of Aeschylus's times and, I would argue, even for women of our times. I may have read some reports of this, but can't pull them up--anecdotally I feel it's fairly well-acknowledged that women in power tend to be tougher on female subordinates compared to male subordinates, and that may be this "Athena complex" in modern terms.

In a way even Aeschylus's Athena is admirable in that she wields power well and that, furious as the Furies are, the last third of Eumenides is dedicated to her reconciling them and patching things up. Contrast that with Apollo, for instance, who is basically a frat boy handed a lesson in arbitration and community-building by his goddess half-sister.

Turning it back to "Trifles", which ends on a note of implied solidarity among the female characters, both those on and off-stage (Minnie Wright). While that is heartwarming and all, I do feel equally common is the sight of women's harshness towards each other. The latter sight is certainly not feminism in the form of "women assert themselves and defy oppression", but it is nonetheless a very real part of the female experience.

Shelley wrote: "I may have read some reports of this, but can't pull them up--anecdotally I feel it's fairly well-acknowledged that women in power tend to be tougher on female subordinates compared to male subordinates, and that may be this "Athena complex" in modern terms..."

I agree. This has been well documented, especially as it occurs in the work place. There is a tendency of groups who have been denied power to align themselves with the power structure. They tend to be tougher on members of their own group in an effort to prove themselves worthy. But things are changing as more women advance to positions of authority.

Shelley wrote: "Turning it back to "Trifles", which ends on a note of implied solidarity among the female characters, both those on and off-stage (Minnie Wright). While that is heartwarming and all, I do feel equally common is the sight of women's harshness towards each other. The latter sight is certainly not feminism in the form of "women assert themselves and defy oppression", but it is nonetheless a very real part of the female experience."

Again, I agree. But this is a complex issue and impossible to summarize in a sound bite. But since you raised it . . . I'll try to be brief.

Gender bias permeates all aspects of our culture and socialization whether we are aware of it or not. Even something as seemingly innocuous as the fairy tales we were told as children reinforce gender bias. Who were the bad guys in Cinderella? Snow White? Sleeping Beauty? It was always other women--older women who competed with younger, more beautiful women. And what was the prize? To win the affection of either the absent father or handsome Prince Charming. What message does that give little girls? And that's just one, very simple example. What message do we give to girls when our standards of beauty are defined as all things young, firm, perky, and wrinkle-free? Little girls who are bombarded on all sides by messages of gender bias and ageism and who are taught to accept those messages uncritically grow up to be women distrustful of other women. They internalize sexism and tend to be harder on other women than a man might be.

But things are changing for the better. The stories we tell our little girls and little boys nowadays reflect greater gender equity and balance. Society has become increasingly intolerant of domestic violence, sexual harassment, and violence against women. The lines separating the public sphere from the private sphere have blurred with the increase in two income households where both parents share the responsibility of housework and child-rearing. Fathers have become far more actively engaged with raising children than my father's generation ever was. More and more companies are beginning to recognize that on-site day care makes for a happier, healthier work force that leads to greater profits. These are all good things that will move us forward. Progress may be slow, but I do believe it is happening. I see evidence of it in literature and in life. I see increasing evidence of women supporting women. I see evidence of it in the men and women of today who raise their voices against all forms of injustice and intolerance.

Shelley wrote: "In a way even Aeschylus's Athena is admirable in that she wields power well and that, furious as the Furies are, the last third of Eumenides is dedicated to her reconciling them and patching things up..."

I agree up to a point.

As a female in a decidedly patriarchal power structure, Athena was in a unique position to exert influence to transform that culture. In fact, she is consistently shown to have more influence on Zeus than any of the other gods. But she always chose to side with patriarchy. Similarly, women who reached positions of power in the past aligned themselves with the power structure, advocated for that power structure, and were harsh toward members of their own group. But cultures evolve and ours is no different.

We saw evidence of the possibility of alternatives even in Greek mythology. Think of Demeter who insisted on her rights as a mother. She held the gods hostage until they released her daughter from the underworld. Think of Medea who thumbed her nose at a culture that was both xenophobic and sexist. She usurped the right of the fathers to dispense with their children as they saw fit. If a culture allows a father to sacrifice his daughter with impunity, Medea would argue, why can't the same right be extended to a mother? Not that I'm defending what she did--although believe me, there were times when my boys were small… :). Her speech to the chorus when she first enters the stage articulates her anger at the sexist double standard and xenophobia of Greek society. That's not a message the Athenians wanted to hear. And that's probably why Euripides never won awards.

I think there are a lot of admirable qualities about Athena. I admire her ability to strategize, to organize, to navigate her way until she achieves her goal, to patch things up when it serves her interests. But I also think she comes across as pretty bloodthirsty and vengeful in the Iliad. Even in the Odyssey her behavior is a little suspect. Odysseus gets thrashed about in one storm after another until he lands on Calypso's island, half dead. She abandons him there for several years before finally asking Zeus' permission to release him. Even Odysseus criticizes her for abandoning him when he first sees her after arriving in Ithaca.

Athena is cerebral, a positive quality. But it seems to me she lacks compassion. We need a balance between intellect and emotion, between thinking and feeling. I find that balance to be better illustrated in Circe than in Athena.

Circe displays nurturing qualities. She bathes Odysseus, feeds him, teaches him, guides him, and sends him on his merry way when he is ready to leave. Her devotion to him is selfless. She doesn't cling to him or try to hold him back the way Calypso does or the way Dido does with Aeneas. She balances her emotions with her intellect. But Circe can be the way she is because she lives on an island, away from the Greek mainland, and disengaged from its patriarchal constructs.