Addie Bundren: Breaking the Literary Mold

Addie Bundren is dead, and yet, it is only now that she actually has a voice. William Faulkner’s 1930 novel, As I Lay Dying, is literally the story of Addie’s last moments of life, but the fact that the majority of the novel’s events (and particularly the chapter containing Addie’s monologue about her life and thoughts) all occur after she has died appears to show her as a stifled, trapped woman. However, Addie is not a literary monster as so many critics have claimed, nor was she as innocent and stifled as others have argued. Rather, she represents exactly what Fetterley and Gilbert and Gubar argue for: she is the ultimate combination of the angel and monster, as well as a roundly developed character to which women (and men) can relate.

In “The Madwoman in the Attic,” Gilbert and Gubar assert that women throughout literary history have been portrayed as either the delicate ‘angel in the house’ who “has no story of her own but gives ‘advice and consolation’ to others” (815) or as the dangerous female monster, as aberrations “who are only committed to their own private ends” and who “are accidents of nature [and] deformities meant to repel” (820). The male (and sometimes female) writers who utilize this side of the dichotomous representation of women intentionally or inadvertently create women who “negatively reinforc[e] those messages of submissiveness conveyed by their angelic sisters” (820). Gilbert and Gubar argue that “women must kill the aesthetic ideal through which they themselves have been “killed” into art” and they must also “kill” the angel’s opposite: the monster (812). Addie Bundren is the embodiment of this murder of the angel and the monster. Rather than develop a flat or single-minded character as this dying matriarch, Faulkner manages to stay within the bounds of certain conventions while boldly breaking out of others. Where Gilbert and Gubar assert that the female character is a fragmented and subjugated one, Faulkner creates a woman who fits neatly into her role as wife and mother while simultaneously breaking out of that role after she dies by admitting her hatred of the confinements inherent in that role.

Furthermore, she does not hate her husband and most of children simply because they confine her as a woman, but instead because they confine her as a human, and this is an entirely unconventional means of portraying womanhood. Initially, Addie is shown to be a violent, death-obsessed single schoolteacher. She would “look forward to the times when [the students] faulted, so [she] could whip them” (Faulkner 170), and yet, she experiences extreme and intense love for her firstborn son. She hates the children for not being hers, and then she hates her own children for being hers. Although these traits seem rather unbecoming of a woman and a mother, and thus, seem to be in line with Gilbert and Gubar’s argument regarding women in literature, Addie’s possession of these traits and reasons for her actions ultimately reveal her to be more a complicated individual than an evil woman.

Indeed, Addie is a character to whom most of us do not want to relate. She is dark and complicated and brutally honest about her views on life and its disappointments. Fetterley argues in "On the Politics of Literature" that because “American literature is male” and lacks any rounded or fully developed female characters, “the female reader is co-opted into participation in an experience from which she is explicitly excluded; she is asked to identify with a selfhood that defines itself in opposition to her; she is required to identify against herself” (Handout). On the surface, As I Lay Dying appears to uphold this state of literary affairs—Cora Tull is a one-dimensional, ignorant woman, Dewey Dell is obsessed with aborting her unwanted pregnancy, and Addie is dead. But unlike these first two women, Faulkner presents Addie not only as the novel’s central character and the basis for the reference in the title, he also develops her character more fully and directly than any of the others. Although her opinions are harsh, and her actions are morally unsound at times, she is no Dame Van Winkle, she is no monster, and she is certainly no angel. Addie is not bound by any single fragmented or stereotyped identity. Instead she is seen through many perspectives and presented as the amalgamation of them all in addition to her own perception of herself.

Hence, Fetterley’s assertion that women will only be able to reinvent, rewrite, and re-relate to American literature once they have raised consciousness is essential in reading the impact and significance of the character of Addie Bundren. Instead of simply leaving off that Addie is dead and unimportant, or dead and silenced, or trapped by social convention and thus a victim of the male gaze (all of which imply that we have not revised our vision and perception of women in literature), it is imperative that we see her as representative of the human race. She is a woman but she is also soul-sick. She is an idealist who is trapped in a realist world—the world of family and love and children. She made a life-choice and was not satisfied by it. If this character were male there would be no question about his actions and motivations; it is only because she is female that critics desire to suffocate, silence, or reduce her to being yet another partial person. Instead of doing what so many authors have done and what Gilbert, Gubar, and Fetterley object to, critics can very well avoid subjugating Addie and thus see her as a the well-rounded, significant, whole person that she is. In effect, she is the equivalent of the Rip Van Winkle or Nick Carraway: she, just like them, can “speak for us all” (Fetterley, handout).

Faulkner, William. As I Lay Dying. 1930. New York: Vintage, 1990.

Gilbert, Sandra and Susan Gubar. “The Madwoman in the Attic.” Literary Theory: An Anthology. 2nd ed. Ed. Julie Rivkin and Michael Ryan. Malden: Blackwell, 2004. 812-825.

Fetterley, Judith. “On the Politics of Literature.” (Handout from1st ed. of: Literary Theory: An Anthology. Ed. Julie Rivkin and Michael Ryan).

Gender and Feminism Presentation

First of all, I love baking cookies. Once I read the Gilbert and Gubar piece, I knew that I wanted our group (since it was so large) to represent the many faces of “woman” in literature, and since one such face is that of the housewife or angel in the house, I figured that cookies were a necessity.

After reading the assigned texts, I proposed to the group that we begin our presentation in costume to demonstrate the fragmented state of “woman” in literary representations. This fits with both the Gilbert and Gubar and Fetterley texts . I proposed that we each find a representative or explanatory quote from one of the texts in order to ground our ‘character’ in the criticism. Also I initially wanted to break the class into essentialist and constructionist groups, and proposed that the class answer a qualitative survey and construct their own gender identities (Butler) or prove their essential masculinity/ femininity (Irigaray). When Sharlene and I met last week, she proposed instead that we have each member of the class draw a classmate’s gender identity. That seemed like more fun than a survey. I also served the group as a mediator and organizer. I emailed individuals in the group and the group as a whole, and made sure that everyone was on the same page.

This was a most enjoyable and interesting experience given how close to home the issues of sex and gender are to me and (presumably) to most of the class. I was impressed by the insight and contributions of my classmates, and in particular, the divergent reactions to the Barbie debate. I was also glad to see that there were inconsistencies in how individuals code certain characteristics—that someone who is athletic, etc. is coded as a male even though she is female.

Thoughts on Foucault and Butler

Foucault uses the concept of the panopticon to demonstrate the extent of a governing body's ability to influence its people. If people are willing to govern themselves in accordance with the governing body's intentions and conventions, then the government need do very little governing. Given that there is no such thing as a system where the individuals govern themselves completely, it makes sense that Foucault does not promote the panopticon in a literal sense. There are very few instances where governments were able to govern without resorting to physical means of punishment or threats of violence. Our nation is an example of this. For the most part, we as Americans abide by rules and laws not necessarily because we think they are 'correct' or 'just' but more so to avoid the embarrassment or shame inherent in getting caught. This is a form of self-surveillance. If there were large goons with guns pointed at us, we would be more likely to act out of fear of actual violence than out of fear of embarrassment.

However, it is more than evident that many individuals within this American society of ours do not act in accordance with these principles of self-surveillance and fear of being socially ostracized. These individuals are either incapable of watching their own behavior or simply don't care. Hence, a governing body must step in and dictate exactly and explicitly how these individuals must be treated and how they should act. Knowledge itself is not enough. Now they must resort to the 'plague' system of supervision and overt threats.

My point is that these varying ways of governing individuals within a given society are also indicative of the ways individuals are gendered within society. When a girl is born, she is wrapped in a pink sheet. She is raised to be less aggressive and less outspoken than her male counterparts. She eventually learns to instill these behaviors and traits within herself. She watches herself and her body and her voice and her facial expressions to make sure she is acting in accordance with the governing body's prescribed notion of what it looks like to be a feminine female. It is imperative to enact these gender traits because not doing so would bring great shame and social rejection.

Of course, just as there are 'madmen' and criminals, so are there men and women who reject their prescribed gender roles. These individuals construct themselves differently--they become androgynous or too masculine for a female or too feminine for a man. These individuals either cannot help their inability to fulfill traditional or conventional roles, or they simply do not care. They want to live how they want to live and are not afraid of social rejection or shame. And just as the government punishes individuals who break the law, so does society punish individuals who break convention. There is no perfect society where everyone watches him or her self perfectly, nor should there be. The problem is not in whether or not people act in accordance with the law or convention of their own volition, but rather whether or not the laws and conventions are viable.