Chick lit ‘warped reflections of Cosmo woman and rebellious daughters of bonkbuster heroines’ |
THE WOMEN’S LIBERATION movement of the 1960s and 70s inspired, and was
inspired by, a clutch of seminal novels which spoke for the feelings and experiences
of many female readers.
Erica Jong’s Fear of Flying (1973), Lisa Alther’s Kinflicks (1976) and Marilyn
French’s The Women’s Room (1977) were significant not only for their groundbreaking
treatment of contemporary women’s experience, but also for their sheer volume
of sales – these were international bestsellers.
Feminist ideas and dilemmas, articulated through the experience of fictional
women, found an audience far beyond the readership of non-fiction polemics.
Popular fiction, touching the lives of many readers who would never join a movement
nor even necessarily describe themselves as feminists, brought feminism’s radical
visions into the cultural and social mainstream.
The Feminist Bestseller is Imelda Whelehan’s insightful and
engaging study of the impact of feminism on popular women’s fiction from the
late 1960s to the present. Whelehan brilliantly charts the evolving portrayal
of female heroines from the ‘consciousness raising’ novels of the sixties and
seventies, through the ‘superwoman’ characters of the Thatcher era, to the ironic
heroines of our contemporary ‘post-feminist’ age. The book serves as a fine
introduction to the significant novels of each decade, as well as a handy primer
to the key themes of feminism’s so-called Second Wave and the Third Wave feminism
of the new millennium. Whelehan demonstrates how women’s writing continues to
be shaped by feminism, even when novelists appear to ignore, or even reject,
its tenets.
The extract below is taken from chapter 8, on the rise
of the ambivalent singleton heroine typified by Bridget Jones.
…the heroines of the 1980s sex and shopping blockbusters
were out for revenge against some past sin or to uncover a mysterious secret
about their childhood or their family’s past. Sex and conspicuous consumption
figure strongly in the bonkbuster; wealth is fetishized as is class difference;
families are generally poisonous, or at the least virtue skips a generation.
The new woman of the 1990s and beyond found in Bridget Jones’s Diary and subsequent
chick lit offerings both a warped reflection of the glossy Cosmo woman and
the rebellious daughter of the bonkbuster heroine.
Whereas the 1980s heroine, perhaps best typified by Emma
Harte in Barbara Taylor Bradford’s A Woman of Substance, is a powerhouse of
ambition, drive, and capability, the chick lit heroine is sometimes too anxious
to make simple decisions and seems instead to celebrate instances where she
fails, as well as resignedly suggesting that character flaws are a part of
one’s unchangeable personal make-up. Chick lit heroines are loved, warts and
all, presumably speaking to a reader’s unarticulated desire to have their
true nature shine through and be readily apparent to The One. Mark Darcy,
for instance, is drawn to Bridget’s authenticity, saying that ‘all the other
girls I know are so lacquered over’. Chick lit, in common with the feminist
bestsellers, is generally written with self-deprecating humour and even at
times physical comedy. Compare this to the tone of the average 1980s bonkbuster,
which solemnly narrates events with a seriousness which is sometimes unintentionally
comedic and which emphasizes their lead characters’ astonishing range of accomplishments.
Even though Una Alconbury tries to get Mark Darcy to believe that Bridget
is a radical feminist and member of the literati, Bridget is not a high achiever.
‘Chicks’ like her owe more to Helen Gurley Brown and Cosmopolitan on the surface
and more to Friedan and Second Wave feminism beneath. They may lack Brown’s
immense self-discipline and Friedan’s macro-level analysis of women’s oppression,
but their lives are seen as governed by the schizophrenic edicts of glossy
magazines and trend-watchers, set against the fact they benefit from more
comfortable social and material circumstances thanks, in part, to feminism.
While the superwomen of the 1980s blockbusters were driven by the determination
to take revenge, clearing their family’s name or fulfilling some other entirely
focused aim, the chick lit heroine is crippled by the burden of choice – most
particularly the freedom to remain single – and suffers indefinable lassitude
at the prospect of career advancement. She assumes the successes of feminism
without feeling the need to acknowledge the source of these freedoms; in fact,
feminism lurks in the background like a guilty conscience.
Extract from The Feminist Bestseller, Imelda Whelehan, 2005, reproduced
with permission of Palgrave Macmillan.
Imelda Whelehan is Professor of English and Women’s Studies at De Montfort University,
Leicester. |
