"Servants. Of. The. Race": Gender and Sex Performativity and Utopian

Home , Herland (novel)

"SERVANTS. OF. THE. RACE": GENDER AND SEX PERFORMATIVITY AND UTOPIAN

POSSIBILITIES IN FEMINIST SCIENCE FICTION

ALLISON MARIE GRAVES

A thesis submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of

MASTER OF ARTS IN ENGLISH

WASHINGTON STATE UNIVERSITY Department of English

MAY 2015

To the Faculty of Washington State University:

The members of the Committee appointed to examine the thesis of ALLISON MARIE

GRAVES find it satisfactory and recommend that it be accepted.

______Carol R. Siegel, Ph.D., Chair

______Donna M. Campbell, Ph.D.

______Thomas V. Reed, Ph.D.

iii

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I want to thank my thesis committee members for all the help they have provided for this project. Without the guidance and feedback from Donna Campbell and T.V. Reed, I would not have been able to do these texts justice. I especially want to thank my chair, Carol Siegel, for her tireless effort in guiding me through this crazy thing called academia. All the time she spent going over drafts (and lengthy ones, at that) means so much to me, as well as the advice she has given me along the way. I could not have asked for more.

I also want to thank those individuals who listened to me ramble and rant crazily throughout the year as I worked on this project. My mind has been spacey and I have been distracted and forgetful, so it was not an easy task for them.

Amber Strother, thank you for taking me under your wing. I would never have found my passion if you had not shown me the light. #LitforLife

"SERVANTS. OF. THE. RACE": GENDER AND SEX PERFORMATIVITY AND UTOPIAN

POSSIBILITIES IN FEMINIST SCIENCE FICTION

Abstract

by Allison Marie Graves, M.A. Washington State University May 2015

Chair: Carol R. Siegel

"'Servants. Of. The. Race'": Gender and Sex Performativity and Utopian Possibilities in

Feminist Science Fiction" analyzes how twentieth century feminist science fiction challenges and reconfigures officially sanctioned gender and sex identities. During the twentieth century, women faced constant pressure from their societies to conform to heteronormative gender and sex scripts. The first and second waves of feminism allowed women to explore new ways to reconfigure their identities and created the opportunity for feminist authors to utilize science fiction to explore new worlds in which a multitude of identities flourish. Charlotte Perkins

Gilman's Herland, Joanna Russ's The Female Man, and Marge Piercy's He, She, and It are three important novels for examining manipulation of gender and sex identities throughout the twentieth century, as well as Judith Butler's theory on performativity. These authors redefine women's roles within mothering, sexuality, and cyborg theory to show that women cannot be confined to heteronormative identities but must be allowed to determine their own gender and sex roles. While the characters in the novels are often successful at rewriting their identities, they face constant discrimination from their respective societies. Consequently, we are able to look ahead to Piercy's novel as a dystopian critique of the social conservative takeover in the 1980s after the sexual revolution. Even though our society is not yet ready for multiple gender and sex

identities, as argued by Jose Esteban Muñoz in his work on queer futurity, these novels inspire hope in women and other minority cultures for a utopian existence.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ...... iii

ABSTRACT ...... iv

CHAPTER

Introduction: But Why Science Fiction?...... 1

1. A (Brief) Historical Overview of Twentieth Century Feminist Politics and Gender and Sex Theory ...... 11

2. Gilman and Herland ...... 28

Dystopian Maternity in Marge Piercy‟s He, She, and It ...... 52

3. Russ and The Female Man ...... 60

Cyborg Identity to the Extreme: Blurring the Conception of Gender and Sex ...... 89

4. Conclusion ...... 95

BIBLIOGRAPHY ...... 98

vii

Dedication

This is for you, mom, dad, and Jill. You've been there the whole way.

Introduction: But Why Science Fiction?

In science fiction, identity is not always easily accessible. Science fiction authors can manipulate what we would consider normal human behavior with technology, animalistic qualities, or simply oppose the traditional norms that we subscribe to in our communities. But the genre calls for a manipulation of the normal in regards to how we define ourselves both socially and physically. Donna Haraway's work focuses on how the technological, postmodern body can be easily manipulated in science fiction, as well as the social and political implications of the cyborg. Her Cyborg Manifesto promotes a new idea of human—organic flesh interconnected with technology to create an identity that escapes traditional norms. Because cyborgs are “oppositional, utopian...[not] structured by the polarity of public and private,” they inhabit a liminal space of revolt against traditional ideas of social relation, including those relations developed in the household (Haraway 430). Cyborgs reject the norms under which we are restricted because they are not completely flesh and blood. Even authors who predate

Haraway's 1985 manifesto play with the idea of humans defying their societal and biological conditions in order to create their own definitive identities in society.

Feminist writers are no exception to the list of authors who find relief in science fiction from gender and sex norms and ways to explore identity formulation. In writing about Joanna

Russ's novel, The Female Man, Amanda Boulter claims that science fiction enables women "to reinterpret dominant histories and...allegorize the contemporary world" (153-154). The genre is not constrained by realistic boundaries. Instead, fantastical worlds flourish, enabling authors to manipulate reality however they please. Feminist authors can also satirize their marginalized social positions through these other-worldly elements. Because of science fiction's fluidity,

2 female authors can explore various political agendas and call attention to inequalities in their respective societies.

The purpose of this work is to examine how feminist science fiction authors manipulate gender and sex in order to free themselves from the traditional scripts imposed on them by their respective societies. Charlotte Perkins Gilman's Herland was written during a period of great unrest among women as they fought for the right to vote and would later push for the ratification of the Equal Rights Amendment. Women contested claims that they were socially and biologically inferior; in her novel, Gilman addresses these plights by creating a group of women who have progressed both socially and biologically so they no longer depend on men for procreation or economic sustenance. Russ's The Female Man continues the fight for women's rights into the 1970s. Her female characters represent the struggles women faced during the sexual revolution as they explore lifestyles outside of patriarchal heteronormativity. This is also where we see the incorporation of the cyborg in science fiction--Russ's cyborg challenges the biology we understand as female because, in order for one of her characters to survive in a violent and male-dominated world, she has to undergo physical alterations to fend off attackers.

Marge Piercy's dystopian novel He, She, and It comes after the sexual revolution when politicians shifted to more socially conservative views on gender and sex. So, Piercy's novel embraces the cyborg as a creature who disrupts traditional gender and sex norms in a world controlled by powerful corporations. During the twentieth century, many women opposed societal structures and fought for equal rights in order to live freer, more fulfilling lives. While these women were attacked by many who believed their cause to be ridiculous, they overcame this antagonism through relentless protests and consistent challenges to what their culture

3 defined as "woman." And through science fiction, women were able to make known the damage caused by restrictions their current gender and scripts placed upon them.

In the first chapter, I provide a brief historical background of the twentieth century, with particular emphasis on the first wave of feminism and the sexual revolution. The historical premise helps readers contextualize feminist science fiction novels to better understand representations of gender and sex. In addition, a study of the sexual revolution highlights the belief in utopian futures, which is ultimately what feminist science fiction authors hope to accomplish. I also provide a breakdown of Judith Butler‟s theory on performativity, as it plays a major role in my analysis of science fiction characters‟ manipulation of their gender and sex scripts in order to perform new identities. This also leads to a discussion of José Esteban

Muñoz‟s theory on utopian futurity, as successful performances of gender and sex will help lead to utopian ideals.

The second chapter consists of an analysis of Charlotte Perkins Gilman‟s literary contributions to the first wave of feminism through her own utopian fiction. Gilman‟s Herland

(1915) is one of the first science fiction novels to depict technology as a means of combating social norms that force women into domestic roles. The narrator, Van Jennings, depicts how he and his companions, Terry Nicholson and Jeff Margrave, stumble upon a land of progressive women. The women continually cultivate a perfect civilization with advanced technology, superb education, and parthenogenesis. The Herlanders attempt to indoctrinate the men into their evolved culture, especially as they learn of social horrors in the men‟s world. Herland challenges our conception of women with its revolutionizing of gender and sex through careful cultivation of natural settings, asexual reproduction in women, and rejection of viewing women as mere housewives and sexual objects.

Gilman‟s work anticipates many of the continued struggles women face in the mid- twentieth century in regards to gender and sex construction. Joanna Russ‟s The Female Man

(1975) accelerates us into the third chapter, where we move to the mid-twentieth century during the sexual revolution. Four women, all from separate realities, introduce themselves and the struggles they face in their respective worlds. The stories of Jeannine, Joanna, Janet, and Jael converge as they cross paths and witness abuses suffered by one another merely because they are women. The distinctive structure of the novel provides a poignant observation of women attempting to break free from naturalized (and constraining) gender and sex norms. Jeannine

Dadier, residing in a world that never recovered from the Great Depression, laments over her inability to secure a husband. Joanna, who often represents the omniscient narrative voice and even the author herself, hails from 1970s America and offers an unrelenting critique of patriarchal heteronormativity. Janet Evason comes from Whileaway, an all-female utopia that consistently labors to develop technological advancements. Finally, we meet Alice Jael

Reasoner, a cunning cyborg from a warring dystopia of Manlanders against Womanlanders.

Together, these women create the narrative structure of the novel and voice the concerns of their separate existences as well as those of the collective body of women in society.

Marge Piercy's He, She, and It provides the perfect bridge between the progressive work

Gilman and Russ attempt to accomplish in their works. I will analyze aspects of her novel and relate them to both Gilman's and Russ's work in their respective chapters. After the sexual revolution, science fiction readers saw a shift in the literature from utopian possibilities to dystopian criticisms. Marge Piercy‟s He, She, and It (1991) is one example of a postmodern text which picks up where utopian authors left off to proffer new ways to define humanity through gender and sex. Thus, Piercy offers potential answers to the losses in sexual freedom faced once

5 conservative politics dominated social aspects of society after the 1970s. Shira, the heroine of her novel, loses her son Ari in a custody battle with her ex-husband Josh. After her loss, she returns to her home land, the Jewish free-town of Tikva. While there, Shira reconnects with family and friends and interacts with an illegally-built cyborg named Yod. Gilman‟s Herland anticipates

Piercy‟s world when the Herlanders‟ utopia ultimately falters. Moreover, Russ‟s novel also foreshadows Piercy‟s dystopia with Jael's existence and the unresolved ending of her novel.

Consequently, readers are able to understand exactly how cultural scripts affect utopian desires and lead to a less than equal world. Yet, Piercy's cyborg characters perpetuate the idea that the intersection of humans and technology can disrupt conventional gender and sex scripts because of the liminal space that Yod inhabits.

Gilman, Russ, and Piercy imagine worlds wherein women question and challenge traditional gender and sex norms. Like Haraway‟s revolutionary cyborg, the characters in the feminist authors‟ novels cannot be defined within traditional norms; thus, their revolutionary identities often lead to their categorization as social others. The shift to conservative right politics in the 1980s may have led to the disappearance of more utopian forms of science fiction, but dystopian authors like Piercy carry on the tradition of reconfiguring gendered identities for personal and societal benefit.

But, we may ask, why study science fiction? How will it help us better understand women‟s issues during the twentieth century? Science fiction is often seen as an outlet for women to critique their current societies by imagining worlds in which minority cultures are no longer marginalized and minorities enjoy many of the same freedoms as majority populations do.

Boulter‟s essay “The Functions of Sexuality in Science Fiction” focuses primarily on the work of

Ursula Le Guin, Joanna Russ, and Marge Piercy, but her discussion can also be applied to

Gilman‟s early twentieth century novel. She recognizes how male science fiction authors often supported real world violence against women through literary depictions that valorize it as necessary, seeing it as an emergence of a “sex war” once women enter on the scene (Boulter

199). Women science fiction writers address male writers‟ use of weak female characters who are often taken advantage of or harmed violently merely because they are women. Consequently, feminist science fiction writers critique this form of literature and use utopian science fiction “to be more conscious, less the victim of predetermined social reflex than male authors have been, in

[their] own treatment of the sex war” (Boulter 199). Utopian science fiction allows women to challenge traditional tropes for disadvantaged women in heteronormative science fiction texts and society in general.

Gilman and Russ find relief from the sexism of their cultures in utopian science fiction as they can corrupt traditional sexuality scripts. Herlanders do not need men in order to procreate and interact collectively to raise their children and maintain their social and technological advancements.. And while Russ does employ a heteronormative character in her fiction, Joanna,

Janet, and Jael take part in more unconventional forms of sexuality. Judith Spector, in her work on Russ's novel, argues that the presence of sex in science fiction is not meant to “mindlessly turn the reader on”—it is presented more as a way to critique traditional heteronormative forms of sexuality that place women in compromising situations and offer ways to reimagine more fruitful and beneficial sexualities (Spector 200). Janet‟s homosexuality and Jael‟s domination of a male cyborg creates unrest within their societies because they break traditional norms and shift the power to create identities into their own hands. These women deny the violent forms of sexuality that are often forced upon women in misogynist science fiction and in reality (Spector

200). Instead, they imagine how women can live freely and define sexuality within more

7 economically beneficial and individualistic means. As Spector states, “women are people,” so women utopian science fiction writers like Gilman and Russ encourage readers to adopt the idea that women can be sexual, too (202).

Anne Mellor also believes that utopias serve as a way for female science fiction authors to re-envision a world outside of traditional gender and sex norms. However, Mellor's work on feminist utopias distinguishes between abstract and concrete utopias to help readers understand which of the genre‟s texts are useful in the fight against heteronormative culture. Abstract utopias are “fantastical,” “generated out of pure desire and wish fulfillment,” and are not practical when it comes to social change (Mellor 242). Conversely, concrete utopias serve “a practical purpose” and “[portray] a potentially realizable world” which addresses the social ills of current society (Mellor 242). Mellor also argues that authors who incorporate abstract utopias in their texts (such as Gilman and Russ)create societies in which asexual reproduction is not physically or technologically possible for our own reality. She states that the authors‟ reimagining of all-female societies is extreme and their small, intimate political structures which enable women to live peacefully could not be easily transferred to the intricate structures of existing societies (Mellor 249-251). In all of utopian literature, there are elements of the fantastical because we do not live in utopian times—there will be utopian qualities that we cannot imagine thriving in our own world. Gilman‟s and Russ‟s utopias contain fantastical elements which are not necessarily believable (e.g. parthenogenesis, cyborg modifications, a world of only women, etc.), but their utopias are critiques of their respective societies and offer basic principles of human rights to help push society in the right direction to view women as equals.

I agree with Spector‟s and Mellor‟s claims that utopias are useful for reimagining societies to address marginalization of women. But I am concerned with Mellor‟s dismissive attitude towards certain utopias. I want to argue that all utopias are fantastical in nature—science fiction is a genre which contains fantastical elements. These fantastical elements are what allow women science fiction writers to manipulate contemporary gender and sex scripts to allow for more progressive and revolutionary identities. That does not mean we should accept Gilman‟s and Russ‟s utopias at face value; their utopian societies still exclude factions of women (not to mention men) who do not fit their notions of the ideal human (e.g. Gilman's eugenicist beliefs) .

But we should not dismiss them, either. They provide a useful critique of our current gender and sex situation, as well as potentialities to re-inscribe our identities.

Amanda Boulter also focuses more on mid- to late-twentieth century science fiction and its usefulness in reimagining contemporary society than on early twentieth century science fiction. Just as Spector and Mellor have praised science fiction for its transformative nature,

Boulter sees science fiction as a medium for women to “open up new vistas for feminist fantasy”

(153). The ability of women science fiction to “explore feminist futures” and “reinterpret dominant histories” connects imagination with politics, meaning that fictional creations can help individuals better understand political implications of their current norms (Boulter 154).She sees

The Female Man as reinterpreting women‟s roles in society. Not only does the structure of the novel (which will be discussed in the third chapter) welcome readers to create meaning out of its intricacies, but the characters refuse to abide by traditional heteronormativity as they seek alternative lifestyles. Their reimagining of these scripts often results in fantastical situations, such as cybernetic manipulations or the creation of an all-female, homosexual society. This is where Boulter‟s discussion opposes our understanding of Mellor—Boulter praises the sort of

9 fantastical elements Mellor criticizes. I largely follow Spector's and Boulter's work. Without the unique features of science fiction, feminist utopian writers would not be able to encourage readers to believe they can overcome the transgressions of heteronormative gender and sex scripts.

Dystopian fiction continues the critique of gender and sex scripts first enacted by feminist utopian authors. Tom Moylan sees the emergence of dystopian fiction as “[speaking] to the attenuated and terrible reality brought about by the capitalist restructuring of the economy,” which occurred with the shift to social conservative politics in the 1980s (xii). Feminist historians Lisa Duggan and Nan Hunter (who I am inclined to agree with) argue that politicians, both liberal and conservative, found an opportunity in the "sex panic" of the anti-pornography movement to eliminate sexually explicit parts of the sexual revolution and shift back to more traditional ideas surrounding gender and sex in order to protect individuals from the harmful effects of pornography (Duggan et. al. 72). While the hostile political takeover of gender and sex identities dashed utopian hopes, science fiction writers found dystopian fiction as an alternative outlet to express their concerns about heteronormativity.

While the presence of dystopian fiction grew after the sexual revolution, the genre has been around for most of the twentieth century. The first appearances of dystopian fiction occurred in the early 1900s as the world saw increased industrialization, which led to "the onset of monopolized production and...the modern imperialist state extended its internal and external reach" into the everyday lives of its citizens (Moylan xi). Consequently, the state's increased control over people allowed it to reinforce a heteronormative society through more conservative social values. Dystopian authors often analyze the effects that capitalistic traditions have on everyday life, creating a “social „elsewhere‟” that is far worse than reality to critique the negative

10 impact overreaching politics has on gender and sex identities (Moylan xiii). These texts often look beyond technology to analyze how capitalism and the economy, though flourishing, have directly affected and often hindered personal growth and freedom (Moylan xii). I also want to suggest that some authors of dystopian fiction revisit technology and its incorporation in the narrative to allow readers to reimagine how society could flourish by restructuring what it means to be human. David Allyn, in his analysis of the sexual revolution, suggests that "capitalism depends on the discontent of consumers, who will spend their lives and savings searching for satisfaction through material goods" (28). If individuals are able to redefine their gender and sex identities, they will focus less on obtaining material goods to appease their dissatisfaction with gender and sex norms. Capitalism and socially sanctioned norms would no longer have such a large impact on how humans define themselves. Gilman, Russ, and Piercy use science fiction to advocate for a new race of humans. The authors and their characters challenge our conceptions of gender and sex in order to advocate for more control over the formation of their identities.

This manipulation of gender and sex often comes with the incorporation of technology that creates ambiguity about what it means to be human and what it means to be machine. Through the rejection of heteronormativity, Gilman, Russ, and Piercy utilize science fiction to advocate for a new race of women and transgress their contemporary gender and sex scripts in order to promote a utopian future.

Chapter 1: A (Brief) Historical Overview of Twentieth Century Feminist Politics and

Gender and Sex Theory

Through this work, I will argue that female science fiction writers (specifically Gilman,

Russ, and Piercy) challenge traditional gender and sex scripts through social and physical manipulation of their characters‟ identities. In order to understand why women might rely on the transformative powers of science fiction, it is helpful to understand the social and political turmoil women faced throughout the twentieth century. Gilman‟s Herland was published in 1915 at the height of the first wave of the feminist movement when women across the world fought to modify their social identities The first wave is important because it marks the beginning of the international feminist movement and women‟s push to gain more social and political rights in their respective societies. In the United States, the first wave is primarily credited with the ratification of the nineteenth amendment, which gave women the right to vote. The first real push towards this right to vote began in 1848 with the Declaration of Sentiments created at the Seneca

Falls Convention in New York; suffragists rewrote the Declaration of Independence as a call for women to emancipate themselves from the controlling grasp of patriarchy (Dicker 44-45).

Feminists found ways to not only reword nationally defining documents but also challenge established norms to fight for their right to take part in constructing officially sanctioned social identities through the political process. Consequently, the push for the right to vote in the US followed on the heels of the Declaration of Sentiments.

Suffrage demonstrations began in the 1890s as feminist groups lobbied state legislatures to allow women to vote in state elections; of course, these activities took place with the end goal of gaining national voting rights (Dicker 44-45). The beginning of the twentieth century also marked a transition in goals for the feminist movement. Discussions on women's rights moved

12 from fighting for equality to fighting for women‟s advantage. This was based on the idea that there are clear differences between men and women and those differences make women superior beings to their male counterparts, which is an ideal that resurfaces during the second wave

(Dicker 45). The emergence of World War I also marked a time of social changes for women. As men in the US were drafted, women were recruited for jobs outside of the home. However, women were still discriminated against as many employers forced them into more domestic roles, such as “sewing, cleaning, and clerical work” (Klein 44). But prejudice towards women only prompted them to fight for equal rights and regulation of working conditions for all.

Women in Industry Service (WIS) bargained for several new labor laws, such as “the eight-hour work day, forty-eight hour maximum work week, and...„equal pay for equal work‟” (Klein 44).

Women pushed their way into the economic structure of their society, claiming their rightful spot among men to become productive and independent individuals in the workforce.

The scope of the first wave of feminism reached beyond the United States and one single race. In Australia, women wanted to receive formal education so they could depend on themselves for economic sustenance in the labor market (Davidson 17). So, they formed the

Women‟s Service Guild to support women's involvement in the workforce, (Davidson 23).

Amid the discussion of African American rights in the US, black women reached out to their communities to discuss their roles and sought “access to education and jobs” (Hewitt 21). In

Mexico between 1846 and 1848, women fought against the denial of their property rights under the Anglo-American law. Mexican women attended the Seneca Falls Convention to “[demand] legal and political rights” equal to their American compatriots (Hewitt 22). As a result of the worldwide push for women‟s rights, women in the US aligned themselves with those in Europe and elsewhere in order “to build international alliances with suffragists and pacifists” (Hewitt 5).

Women across the world lobbied and protested their positions in society, forming allegiances with one another and pushing their movement forward.

Rather than stay in their domestic roles, women in Europe also advocated for their right to engage in productive capacities outside of the home. In the 1860s, women in several nations

(including Germany, France, Italy, Great Britain, and numerous Scandinavian nations) lobbied for "improvements in education and employment, and in the sphere of legal and moral reform"

(Abrams 267). Women in Great Britain wanted to change property laws pertaining to married women and allow them more rights to control land they owned with their husbands, especially after the death of their husbands. At the turn of the century, women all throughout Europe formed social organizations to promote women's access to higher education and advocation of women's rights in the political sphere and industrial work (Abrams 268-269). After the success of the Seneca Falls Convention, women in the Soviet Union, Great Britain, Italy, Germany, and

France fervently continued their work towards women's rights. In the Soviet Union, there was an effort by feminists to raise the status of the working class and push for women's right to attend institutions of higher education (Abrams 269). Feminists in France, as well as across Europe,

"ignited discussions about women's public role," which was partially prompted by wide spread industrialization and democratization of European nations (Abrams 269).European women recognized their right to individual identities outside of the household and demanded recognition equal to men.

However, these "modes of activism” were met with hostility—suffragists were often ridiculed and attacked by opponents during their demonstrations (Dicker 48-49). After suffragists continually lobbied in individual states, the nineteenth amendment was proposed to Congress in

January 1918 (Dicker 54).One and a half years later, the Senate finally passed the amendment, so

14 women across the country could finally point to the well-earned fruit of their labor. The suffrage movement not only earned women voting rights but it brought to light patriarchal norms which restricted the ability for women to create their own unique identities. Yet the fight for women‟s liberties does not end with earned political rights.

Sexual autonomy is also a constant struggle for women in a hegemonic patriarchal society. Like Russ‟s female characters, women in the twentieth century attempted to carve out their own individual niches of sexuality amid constant pressure from gender and sex scripts. The sexual revolution, which is thought to have begun with Simone de Beauvoir‟s The Second Sex

(1949), provided an outlet for women to continually reject dominant gender and sex norms.

David Allyn‟s Make Love, Not War recounts the sexual revolution as a time in which “college coeds in tight sweaters [were] learning about the pill…naked hippies [were] frolicking in the park, [and] men and women [were] waiting in line to see a hard-core porn film as a first date”

(5). Individuals found more personal sovereignty to explore desires that were once condemned by the public. Large cities harbored several red light districts featuring pornography, strip tease clubs, sex acts on theater stages, and numerous other erotic venues. This led to a more open sex culture and freedom for many heterosexuals and homosexuals to take part. Adult movie theaters opened in Times Square and allowed individuals to define sex for themselves as they collectively expressed open and free sexualities (Delany 45). José Esteban Muñoz, author of Cruising

Utopia, describes the sexual revolution as “a reconfiguration of the social, a reimagining of our actual conditions of possibility” (38). Individuals were liberated from gender and sex scripts so they could redefine themselves within their societies. So, during this time, we saw people taking part in activities such as massive sex orgies in trailers or attending adult movie theaters “for the use of consensual pleasure” (Muñoz 51).

But this open sex culture faded with the onset of the AIDS epidemic and the

“Disneyfication” of Times Square. 1 American capitalism and a reevaluation of family values caused significant reconstruction of red light districts as a way to hide the unsavory open sex culture and revert back to traditional values attached to gender and sex (Muñoz 51). Allyn recalls how politicians “waged a largely successful campaign against sexual permissiveness” (5-6). This sexual permissiveness threatened the status quo of gender and sex scripts, so those who had the political power to stop progressiveness of the open sex culture did just that. The move was a way for opponents of the sexual revolution to regain control over gender and sex norms and impose them on the population.

Part of the reason politicians tried to end the sexual revolution had to do with the economic hardships the U.S. faced in the 1980s. According to Allyn, individuals who took part in the sexual revolution were not as miserable as they were when constricted by the norms which regulated their lives. So, the economy suffered setbacks because individuals were less focused on buying luxury items to fill the void of happiness. As a result of the extensive joy caused by the open sex culture, politicians had to find a way to promote more spending (Allyn 291). This economic distress created an opportunity for liberals and conservatives to “blame movies, television, pornography, homosexuals, and feminists for America‟s problems” instead of remedying the public's economic struggles (Allyn 273). If we consider Allyn's discussion of how the growth of capitalism is linked to the misery of individuals, we can understand why politicians would fervently oppose any expansion or continuation of the sexual revolution. In order for the economy to prosper, people need to be sad; controlling gender and sex scripts to limit personal

1 This “Disneyfication” is the “corporate representation” replacing adult theaters and like businesses with popular fashion stores and food chains, such as Disney stores, McDonald‟s, and Starbucks (Muñoz 53).

16 freedom would create this sadness among the population. Consequently, politicians fought the open sex culture to regain social and fiscal control in the U.S.

Moreover, both liberals and conservatives saw the sexual revolution as a threat to the status of women in society. They wanted to protect women and children from possible harmful side effects sexuality could inflict on them. One example of this fear occurred in the mid-1970s when a Virginia Beach couple were indicted for “committing sodomy and crimes against nature” after their daughters showed school friends private pictures of the couple engaging in consensual sex with a man they found through the magazine Swinger‟s Life (Allyn 290). The courts deemed the behavior a gross manipulation of the open sex culture and a blatant lack of control over

“sexual impulses” (Allyn 290). The open sex culture infiltrated public life in new and more complicated ways. While schools were teaching birth control in sex education classes, the presence of lewd material in schools with underage children (and no way to prevent it from happening) threatened the control society could impose on how children were exposed to sexual activity. Liberals and conservatives used cases like Virginia Beach to show how sex can harm the population and cause a detrimental impact on the lives of children. While politicians pushed women and others into more socially conservative avenues, it was all under the guise of protecting them from subversive behavior. Those in power felt threatened by the sexual revolution as it impeded their ability to control gender and sex norms.

In addition to challenges posed by politicians who attempted to curb the sexual revolution, the second wave of feminism experienced a dichotomy among its ranks when feminists disagreed on fundamental goals tied to the movement Alice Echols‟ Daring to Be Bad surveys the split between radical feminists and cultural feminists during the open sex culture.

Radical feminists believed “women [constitute] a sex-class” and “that relations between women

17 and men [need] to be recast in political terms” (Echols 3). Moreover, gender was the primary concern for radical feminists who believed that gender, not social class, causes discord between men and women (Echols 3). These feminists opposed the traditional belief in binary, biologically determined gender differences. In contrast, cultural feminists wanted to reverse the “cultural valuation of male and the devaluation of female” and promote equal relations among men and women (Echols 3). Cultural feminists agreed that men and women are biologically different and, therefore, must live according to their assigned sex. But these differences should not make women second class citizens; rather, women should have the same rights as men and should be seen as equal citizens to their male compatriots. Echols argues that "the personal [became] political" as both radical and cultural feminists attempted to mold the second wave into a movement that solidified their own personal beliefs (18, 19). Different ideals concerning women's identities and decisions on how the feminist movement should be defined led to hard feelings between feminist factions. Neither side wanted to concede their beliefs, so the fighting between the women only intensified. Echols suggests that some of the movement's progress was impeded by hot button issues among feminists concerning class and sexuality. Some feminists believed leaders of the second wave benefitted more than others because they were of a higher class. Consequently, class became tied to determining who should represent the movement and which women‟s issues were important (Echols 206). Moreover, radical feminists saw the sexual revolution as exploitative of women's sexuality. They felt women were seen as mere sex objects as they explored new forms of sexuality and that lesbianism especially focused more on sex than political freedom. According to Echols, radical feminists felt lesbians were “too attached to sex roles” and did not focus on collective liberation from the patriarchal systems which held women back (Echols 211). This alienation of homosexual women once again caused tension between

18 radical feminists and cultural feminists, as well as heterosexual and homosexual women participating in the movement.

Lisa Duggan and Nan Hunter‟s Sex Wars also analyzes how the second wave coinciding with the sexual revolution provoked disturbance among feminists. Specifically, they discuss the anti-pornography movement‟s repression of women‟s sexuality. The constant disagreement between feminist factions inhibited progression of the movement. Social conservatives saw pornography as leading to “crime, venereal disease, and „dangerous social change‟” with its exposure of multiple facets of sexuality, including fornication and masturbation (Duggan et. al.

31). Moreover, anti-porn feminists felt pornography reinforced gender stereotypes by encouraging “male domination/female subordination through sex” roles individuals experienced in heteronormative relationships (Duggan et. al. 7). Duggan and Hunter argue that goals for the second wave of feminism should have been more focused on “reclaiming and reinventing

„pornography‟ on behalf of women and queers, not trying to abolish it...or defending it as the price of „free speech‟” (4). Rather than trying to suppress pornography because it seems like a violent exploitation of women, feminist historians like Duggan and Hunter advocate reinventing pornography as a way to represent women as sexual beings equal to men.

The anti-pornography movement imposed great limitations on personal autonomy and caused further disagreement in the feminist movement as some feminist groups proposed regulating “pornographic expression” through legislation (Duggan et. al. 65). Ordinances to control pornography were proposed in “Cambridge, Los Angeles, Minneapolis, and in

Indianapolis” (Duggan et. al. 65). After much heated debate throughout the 1980s, feminist groups no longer promoted anti-pornography legislation (Duggan et. al. 65). Duggan and Hunter outline many of the opposing arguments feminist historians had for the control of pornographic

19 expression. One argument against anti- pornography legislation was that it would not eliminate sexual violence towards women, as anti-pornography advocates believed eliminating explicit material would free women from harm imposed on them by men. Controlling pornography will not alleviate the problem; rather, issues with societal ideologies concerning pornography are hidden behind the unnecessary legislation rather than directly addressing them (Duggan et. al.

66). Not only did the feminists who agreed with the legislation align themselves with politicians who already reinforced heteronormativity (who were notorious for imposing restrictions on women‟s social and political freedoms), but women were also penalized and arrested if they broke any anti-pornography legislation (Duggan et. al. 67, 68).Many feminist historians believe the sexual revolution was a time for women to express freedom from gender and sex scripts; it was not a time to oppress women and deny their natural sexual rights.

I do agree that there were disparate ideas during the sex revolution which caused divisions among feminists. The competing ideas among feminists did not help and led to arguments over class and sexual openness. The separation within the feminist movement, as well as the political takeover by socially conservative politicians to correct women‟s behavior and protect them, created difficulties for those who were consistently marginalized. But, while women's exposure to complete autonomy was challenged, sexual freedom was still providing some possibilities for change. Those who did not stand by heteronormativity had spaces to speak out against injustices and explore various social and political identities that were no longer constricted by gender and sex norms. In all, we can look back on the sexual revolution as an extremely positive experience for women as they new forms of personal autonomy.

As we will see in Russ‟s novel, women participating in the open sex culture explored ways to release themselves from the bonds of more restricted and conservative identities,

20 especially sexually. So, feminist science fiction writers found the opportunity in the sexual revolution to explore these new and free identities outside of the traditionally scripted gender and sex norms. Science fiction as a genre invites authors and readers alike to re-imagine their societies and critique the current oppressive systems that keep them from understanding how physical reality was not meant to be controlled by social boundaries, such as traditional gender and sex scripts.

Gender and Sex Performativity and Utopian Possibilities

But why was there concern over countercultures cropping up throughout the twentieth century? Why was it so important to oppress large contingents of the population in order to preserve status quo? In order to maintain power over the population, social and political pundits needed to stop those who challenged traditional gender and sex scripts. Feminists and science fiction authors alike had to face the overwhelming control of norms and attempted to find ways to subvert established authority. Prominent gender theorist Judith Butler provides insight into the complexities surrounding the formation of gender and sex and why fighting for freedom from these scripts was so difficult.

Butler‟s work on performativity establishes the foundation for much of the discussion of gender and sex in feminist literature. Bodies That Matter, one of her most famous works on performativity, examines social conceptions of both gender and sex. She notes that while gender is often seen as a socially contested site for an individual‟s identification as male or female, sex inevitably also falls into this category. Sex becomes a characteristic “that is covered over by the figure of the site of surface of inscription” (Bodies That Matter xiv). We attribute biological characteristics to sex(e.g. facial hair, testicles, breasts, ovaries, etc.). Over time, the body can be inscribed with meanings outside of these naturally occurring characteristics. Moreover, the

21 natural becomes that which has no value, since meaning will not occur unless we inscribe it. So, the natural essentially becomes unnatural—if meaning is not inscribed upon sex, then our bodies have no meaning outside of what our society inscribes on it (Bodies That Matter xiv).

Much of Butler‟s discussion in this text focuses on the implications behind social reclassification of sex. Butler argues that what inevitably follows is a complete takeover of sex by socially constructed gender norms. She points out that social inscription of sex leads to the creation of gender so “sex does not accrue social meanings as additive properties but, rather, is replaced by the social meanings it takes on...[gender is] the term which absorbs and displaces

„sex‟” (Bodies That Matter xv). Since sex becomes a site of inscription, it is as moldable as gender and subsumes the representative qualities of gender. In a sense, we cannot understand sex without gender.

Butler provides the example of newborns to help readers understand implications behind sex as inscribed and ultimately replaced by gender. Before a sex can be assigned to an unborn child, we cannot make any assumptions about the child‟s identity. Yet, once it is determined whether the child is a boy or girl, the child is no longer free from social norms (Bodies That

Matter xvii). Gender breaks through the floodgates as we assume a boy will want to play sports, wear darker colors, and reject strong emotional attachments; likewise, we believe a girl child must be surrounded by warm colors and will want to play house and carry dolls. Because we cannot separate sex from gender, a child‟s identity is already decided for it before it leaves the womb. Sex just becomes another meaning for socially constructed gender.

While we cannot applaud gender's replacement of sex, the ability to inscribe the body can allow individuals to break away from constricting identities. Women who refuse traditional gender scripts and choose to rewrite their identities inscribe new meaning onto their bodies by

22 rejecting these standards of gender. Moreover, individuals who undergo sex altering surgeries not only change their physical makeups, but they also alter the inscriptions placed on their bodies by society‟s standards of gender. Science fiction provides a perfect backdrop for women to subvert traditional gender and sex norms through its fantastical elements and often unique reconfigurations of men and women. As we will see with Gilman, Herlanders adopt androgynous physical qualities to help cultivate a thriving society. Moreover, their utilization of parthenogenesis allows them to reproduce without the presence of a male partner and overcome biological limitations. Joanna Russ‟s female characters not only reject traditional gender standards, but they go so far as to modify their bodies in order to redefine their identities. These texts inspire alienated individuals to cultivate identities outside of traditional gender and sex norms. The body is no longer restricted by male and female but can be described outside of heteronormative conventions.

Of course, there are other negative consequences stemming from gender and sex performativity. In Undoing Gender, Butler considers the negative impact performativity can have on individuals who do not follow standard gender and sex scripts. There is no single person who performs gender for his or her self; however, this performance “is always [done] with and for another, even if the other is only imaginary” (Undoing Gender 1). We are not in a vacuum— there are influences outside of our individual bubbles that determine how we create and perform our identities. We are controlled by gender and sex binaries that construct our identities which are not physically realistic; it does not matter if we attempt to subvert traditional gender and sex scripts—we are under the proverbial spotlight as we are forced to perform for others.

Butler asks, “who can I become in such a world where the meanings and limits of the subject are set out in advance for me?...And what happens when I begin to become that for which

23 there is no place within the given regime of truth?” (Undoing Gender 58). If we are dependent on societal scripts in order to formulate our gender and sex identities, not much room (if any) is left for us to perform in ways that are not attached to the aforementioned other. In this regard, we become the scripts which have no basis in a physical reality. We are trapped in a perpetual cycle where individuality is undervalued while gender and sex norms dominate.

And if we try to characterize ourselves outside of this regime of socially-constructed gender and sex identities, our identities are not officially recognized. As Butler considers the complicated nature of gender and sex performativity, she offers an explanation of how subversion of gender and sex scripts leads to the dismissal of different identities. The script or norm is considered natural and any other is immediately deemed fake. This fake performance cannot replace the authentic norm; it only challenges established gender and sex norms (Undoing

Gender 214). Butler provides drag as an example of this system: individuals who dress in drag subvert their assigned gender script but cannot replace it. We have “received notions of reality” determining our assigned gender and sex and anything outside of these notions of reality are, for all intents and purposes, read as fake (Undoing Gender 214). While we must work within this system of assigned scripts, we must remember that, even though these scripts are considered real and are inscribed on real bodies, they configure those bodies rather than simply reflecting them.

As Butler points out in her introduction, they are imagined boundaries, despite the continual constraints they place on us.

In spite of unrealistic boundaries, hope for utopian existence survives. The first and second waves of feminism fed the imaginations of science fiction writers as they sought refuge in fantastical elements to inspire individuals to create new identities outside of officially sanctioned and often restricting norms. Mellor defines a utopian society as one which expresses a

“profound dissatisfaction with the way things are, a dissatisfaction that combines with an equally powerful hope that things may and can be changed for the better” (241). Feminists and sexual revolutionaries alike dream of a society in which they can act freely and without negative consequences. And writers have picked up on this thread of critique to illustrate how their existences can change to incorporate the interests of the many instead of the few.

But while individuals challenge their gender and sex identities to free themselves from the constraints of society, gender and sex norms are never fully dissolved. This is why science fiction authors find respite in the genre to create existences where everyone can live their lives freely. Muñoz‟s analysis of queer culture provides insight into the struggles faced by countercultures and the potential for utopian existences similar to those in feminist science fiction. He reflects on the sexual revolution and the shift to a more conservative political base that led to an abrupt ending to the open sex culture. Muñoz emphasizes that, in light of fleeting utopian dreams, “queerness is primarily about futurity and hope. That is to say that queerness is always in the horizon” (11). While my primary focus is not on queer culture, Muñoz‟s commentary reflects on much of the trouble faced by those in opposition to the norms.

Queerness, like many other non-normative cultures, is only a concept we can hope for in the future. Our society is not quite ready to accept other ways of constructing identity outside of what has already been established by tradition. Queer culture and other countercultures are on the periphery of society, a glimmering hope of potentiality. Consequently, we can see how

Butler‟s discussion of gender and sex scripts leads to this potentiality. Because queerness and other cultures merely challenge the norm, they are not considered the truth and cannot replace prominent norms. Yet, Muñoz‟s optimism keeps the hope alive for the rise of countercultures.

Muñoz repeatedly looks back in time at performance art to imagine a utopian future. He takes time in his book to discuss the emergence of gay clubs and bars. He introduces readers to

Magic Touch, an interracial gay bar in New York City. Workers took great pleasure in their performances, specializing in “highly sexualized break dancing” (Muñoz 58). All forms of illicit behavior occurred freely at Magic Touch. While some of Muñoz‟s colleagues criticized the relationships that occurred between older patrons and younger male performers, he sees it differently. Muñoz's nostalgic, subjective analysis of the open sex culture emphasizes that this

“flesh, pleasure, and money economy does not conform to the corporate American sex trade always on display” in advertising and heteronormative institutions (59). The close network of relationships not only brought about interaction between different races and social classes, but the already vibrant cultural outlet undermined traditional capitalist institutions that favored the rich few over the impoverished many. The minoritarian sex culture allowed individuals to take part in a consumerism which fostered bonds between subcultures vying for control over the formation of their gender and sex identities.

Photography is another example of the performative culture Muñoz portrays as advocating for utopian futurity. Kevin McCarty‟s photographic series The Chameleon Club depicts different club spaces in Los Angeles. The photos reveal some spaces with bright lights surrounding an elaborate stage while others are bare and abandoned (Muñoz 102-103). Muñoz notes, “the utopian performative charge of [these images] allows one to see the past, the moment before an actual performance, the moment of potentiality; and the viewer gains access to the affective particularity of that moment of hope and potential transformation that is also the temporality of performance” (Muñoz 102-103). These performances, while fleeting, were able to transport patrons to another reality, one that catered to their desires. It is this potential to

26 transform a space into a collective utopian hope which defines the sexual revolution. Muñoz‟s hope for a utopian future reflects itself in an analysis of the past. While Muñoz is primarily concerned with gay male culture, his study of utopian futurity can be applied to countercultures present in not only the sexual revolution but in both first and second wave feminism. And women‟s science fiction during these times reflects this utopian futurity by bringing countercultures to the forefront of futuristic worlds and giving them a space to freely express themselves.

One of the biggest concerns surrounding the potentiality of utopia is the effort to normalize subversive behavior. Muñoz engages in a poignant discussion on gay marriage to illustrate how normalizing subversive behavior can jeopardize the utopian futurity of queer culture. LBGQT proponents have recently advocated for the legalization of gay marriage; there has been great success in changing states‟ legislation to officially recognize gay married couples.

However, Muñoz points out that these efforts merely “naturalize” gay marriage under the heterosexual imperative (21). He notes that marriage itself is not natural—two beings legally bind themselves together and forfeit a certain amount of personal freedom to be seen as a couple under the eyes of both legal and religious authorities. Muñoz terms this originally heterosexual behavior a “toxic ideological formation” as it poisons the efforts of LBGQT proponents to break away from heterosexual institutions that can only define them in heterosexual terms (21-22).

While Muñoz's position on marriage is subjective, it is useful to note how members of countercultures may be able to take part in non-normative behaviors. The fear is that these behaviors will be absorbed by the majority, under the guise of inclusion, in order to preserve its power. In a way, we can think back to Butler‟s discussion of sex‟s absorption of gender‟s properties—the normal behavior expands and takes up the other, claiming it as its own. This is

27 why Muñoz believes counterculture society is only a potentiality; as long as gender and sex norms continue to eliminate any competition, we will not achieve a utopian society.

Butler's work on gender and sex performativity and Muñoz's analysis of the sexual revolution helps us understand why science fiction authors turned to the genre to imagine new worlds where individuals could define themselves freely. As we will see with feminist science fiction authors Gilman, Russ, and Piercy, hope for utopia never dies--it is just expressed in different forms to fit the time period.

Chapter Two: Gilman and Herland

Charlotte Perkins Gilman‟s Herland is one of the first utopian novels to endorse women taking active roles outside the scripts of domesticity. Gilman uses science fiction as a platform to present her revolutionary ideas on the evolution of women‟s economic roles, as well as the incorporation of mothering into a productive venture to help create a more progressive population. But while we praise Herlanders for their continual cultivation of their society, we cannot help but cringe when we see their efforts wasted as the men inflict damage upon their culture.

Much of Gilman's ideas on women's revolutionary roles grew out of her studies in

Darwinism and Social Darwinism. Darwinism became a popular concept in the United States in the late nineteenth, early twentieth centuries when the "political mood was conservative" and the country was undergoing "rapid and striking economic change[s]" (Hofstadter 3-5). Darwinism, which was developed out of the work by Charles Darwin, suggests "that nature would provide that the best competitors in a competitive situation would win, and that this process would lead to continuing improvement" (Hofstadter 6). Only the strongest individuals most fit to survive in an environment would survive and would lead to an evolution in the population to allow them to thrive in their environment. Organisms evolved based on their environments and would pass on traits to offspring that would allow them to survive. Herbert Spencer's concept of Social

Darwinism is an off-shoot of Darwinism. Spencer's theory claims that individuals "struggled to maintain an equilibrium between [themselves] and [their] environment" (Hawkins 84).

Organisms need to evolve in order to adapt to their environments or else they would be inferior to more adept organisms. This theory became one of the leading arguments that social and political pundits used to suppress lower classes and maintain the status quo(Hofstadter 5). If

29 individuals face certain hardships or are not allowed similar rights to those who held majority power, it is because they never evolved out of their socially inferior positions. Those who do evolve maintain power because they are socially superior.

The eugenics movement, which also grew out of Darwinism, highlights the negative aspect of the popular evolutionary theory to which Gilman subscribed. Eugenics concerns the belief that unfavorable traits can be bred out of humans by natural selection and limiting who could reproduce (Hawkins 217). Essentially, the "undesirable elements" of a population can be eliminated by encouraging "the better elements" (i.e. those with desirable traits) to reproduce and reducing the amount of individuals with negative traits from reproducing (Hawkins 217).

Consequently, eugenics was interwoven with the governmental structures of several nations.

Prominent European countries, such as France, Germany, and Great Britain, established eugenics societies in the early 1900s, as well as the United States. This included social hygiene programs which were designed to act out eugenics practices on factions of the population, such as those with "ill-health, poverty, and [criminals]" (Hawkins 218). Unfortunately, multitudes of individuals believed eugenics would allow communities to prosper because they would not be held back by those who were considered to be from a lesser gene pool, especially those considered lower class and of a lesser race. As we analyze Herland, we can see how Gilman was heavily influenced by these new scientific and social theories from her time period.

Herland illustrates Social Darwinist influences on Gilman's feminist ideals, which revolve around women evolving into more assertive and self-reliant roles in society. Gilman believed women needed to evolve out of their gender roles to become more prominent members of their society and shed stereotypical women's roles that confined them to domesticity. Her political work “Women in Economics” comments on the critical state of women‟s lack of

30 involvement in economic matters: “[woman] gets her living by getting a husband. [Man] gets his wife by getting a living. It is to her individual economic advantage to secure a mate. It is to his individual sex-advantage to secure economic gain…this has confounded our natural economic competition, inevitably growing into economic co-operation, with the element of sex- competition” (“Women in Economics” 99). This formulation for family confines women to the idea that they cannot afford the luxuries of love, sexuality, and companionship since they must marry for economic reasons above all else. Women were trapped by this give-and-take relationship except through marriage to men who could support them. If women procured husbands, they not only perpetuated men‟s sexual dominance but also compromised their own ability to participate in economic competition. Gilman wanted to strip women of this burdensome role. If they shed this identity, they could become economic equals with men and no longer depend on them for sustenance. This is also where a discussion of sex-distinctions is important. Women developed certain “physical characteristics,” mainly those for sexual attraction, which inhibited women‟s full potential as productive members of society (Shaw 17).

In order to become more human, both men and women needed to evolve and shed these sex- distinctions that stunted their natural growth (Hudak 456). Once women reformed their roles and encouraged progressiveness, they would no longer need to engage in sex-competition.

But we cannot ignore the problems with the physical reality of Gilman‟s belief that women could evolve out of their confining roles. Gilman implies that, through social progression of women‟s roles in society, women will start to develop biologically without characteristics often used for sexual attraction. In a way, Gilman advocates for social evolution which will in turn lead to physical evolution of women‟s sex characteristics. As we know now, this is not true.

Just because women may reject stereotypically feminine roles does not mean they will pass this

31 down to their daughters. Gilman‟s evolutionary beliefs are still useful to discuss and utilize in an analysis of the goals of the feminist movement and reformation of gender and sex identities, but her theory promotes unrealistic goals since women cannot physically embody a social evolution.

As a follower of Social Darwinism, Gilman argued that the natural and cultural bodies were inseparable—

Cells combine, and form organs; organs combine, and form organisms; organisms

combine, and form organizations. Society is an organization…the course of social

evolution is the gradual establishment of organic relation between individuals, and this

organic relation rests on purely economic grounds. (Hausman 492-493)

Gilman‟s theory combines human and non-human to envision an organism efficient in economic roles. Humans are the cells that create these organizations and collectives, just as cells make up the systems of the human body. Consequently, women would no longer depend on men because they could support themselves financially. This evolution inscribes new gender roles, thus fulfilling needs for self-sufficiency. According to Gilman, this new woman is the true organic woman. When she combines with the economic elements in the world, her organic cells infuse with the necessary traits to thrive and she can be the being Gilman envisioned: a self-reliant individual.

Scholars are eager to examine Gilman‟s image of technologically advanced reproduction because it offers an escape for women from the constrictions of normative pregnancies while also illustrating her eugenicist beliefs. Dana Seitler is one scholar who examines the intersection between the Herlanders‟ parthenogenesis and Gilman‟s eugenic ideals. She argues that Gilman theorizes eugenics together with feminism as “mutually constitutive,” or directly connected to one another (64). The Herlanders need to maintain a thriving society so, in order to survive after

32 the eradication of men, they create a non-conventional form of mothering which does not require sperm. Moreover, Herlanders raise children collectively so the task is never left up to one individual. They re-imagine ways in which they could use their bodies and overcome biological setbacks that kept them from reproducing. But the Herlanders also groom their children to exhibit only socially beneficial qualities and refuse some women the right to procreate in order to maintain this advanced society. This type of literature, which Seitler labels as “feminist regeneration literature,” allows women to reevaluate their gender and sex identities and individual personhoods (69). My analysis of the novel also revolves around Gilman‟s incorporation of technology into humanity as a way to create a new woman unrestricted by heteronormative scripts. Seitler‟s evaluation of the eugenics movement directly relates to

Gilman‟s Social Darwinist theory, which she uses to imagine the construction of a new human through carefully monitored evolution.

Moreover, I agree with Seitler‟s positive examination of Gilman‟s “regulatory fiction”

(Seitler 69). Seitler borrows the terminology from Butler and, applying it to Herland, argues that

Herlanders do not suppress their sexual desires but channel these desires into mastering reproductive purposes to cultivate the population. Seitler states that “regulatory fiction of sexual responsibility” becomes a norm which manages both female sexuality and agency with advancing reproduction as the main goal (Seitler 69). I will not deny that Herlanders create their own social norm that, in some ways, confines women to certain roles in their mothering-based society. But Herlanders work within these means to empower each member to take part in the economic machine that allows them to survive.

We also need to recognize the racial favoring inherent in Gilman's eugenic beliefs. As

Seitler points out, Gilman‟s model favors “white, middle class motherhood as a model of social

33 progress” (Seitler 66). Only white, middle class women find hope through the stories of the

Herlanders. Gilman does not consider other marginalized classes in her work. It is important to acknowledge that Gilman and other feminists alienated large factions of the population with their eugenic theories. Gilman‟s novel does not offer hope to the women left out of her scheme; conversely, she marginalizes women through her Social Darwinist theories by saying only certain women should be allowed to evolve out of their stereotypical roles. She focuses entirely on the Herlanders, who represent women of Gilman‟s class. But, like Seitler, I want to urge readers to acknowledge the good in Gilman‟s novel, especially considering it was one of the first feminist works to offer an alternative society for women.

Jennifer Hudak's "The 'Social Inventor': Charlotte Perkins Gilman and the (Re)

Production of Perfection" also focuses on Gilman's use of Social Darwinism to advocate for a more fully evolved human. This new human, as we see portrayed in the Herlanders, is

"responsible for the further uplift of the [human]race" (Hudak 456). Similar to Seitler, Hudak views Herlanders as representative of the overall change in society for which Gilman advocated-

-a shift to focus on collective human characteristics rather than individual genders and sexes

(461). Consequently, human characteristics become defined as both natural and cultural, highlighting Gilman's ideology that women can utilize mothering as a way to enter into the market-place (Hudak 465). Gilman believed that the key to women evolving into more equal members in society was to promote their presence in the workforce. So, she saw motherhood as a key, marketable skill women can use to enter the market-place and help uplift humanity.

Although Gilman's novel represents a space of revolt within science fiction, her male narrator's language dominates our understanding of Herlander society. Kim Johnson-Bogart also analyzes how women characters in Gilman's novel alter their societies, but she focuses more on

34 linguistic domination than gender and sex identities. Her argument brings to mind Muñoz's discussion of utopian potentiality--"Gilman's utopian project asserts an Other that is always and necessarily within, and points to her vision of a better world achieved through the integration, hence rethinking, of polarities" (89). Johnson-Bogart examines how Gilman reconstructs meaning "from within our language;" her ideas, as portrayed by the Herlanders, are established using a shared language that many individuals can relate to, so she reconfigures identity with societal notions that are familiar to us (Johnson-Bogart 89). When the men contemplate the women they will encounter, they employ diction such as “virgins” and “nuns” and automatically assume men will also inhabit the land. The Herlanders do not know the meaning of words like

“virgin” and “wife,” so they must rely on the travelling men to explain. In this way, Gilman takes control over patriarchal language that dominates the description of gender and sex scripts. The fact that Herlanders do not understand the men's language shows that these words are mere patriarchal constructs used to suppress women's autonomy. This takeover of language and resignification to make it fit with feminist ideals suggests that it is possible to change from within society and gives hope that, one day, the population will change in order to take better care of both men and women. Ultimately, Johnson-Bogart suggests that Gilman creates a world wherein language takes on new meaning. Instead of society owning us and how we communicate, Gilman "gives us the self as membership" (Johnson-Bogart 91). We define our language and bring meaning to it instead of the "mastery and autonomy" of our oppressive societies (Johnson-Bogart 91). I do acknowledge that the Herlanders dismissal of the men's language represents their progressive culture, but we as readers are still constrained by the choices Van makes in his narration. He ultimately controls our understanding of Herland culture.

Johnson-Bogart highlights much of the discussion that will occur in the description of mothering and desire in Herland society. Gilman redefines mothering as a noble profession, one that will create the perfect race of humans through both physical and social evolution. So,

Herlanders redefine mothering as a skillful process that they do not trust to any other individual.

Because they have refined mothering to promote the advancement of their population, it takes on meaning separate from the men‟s conception of mothering. Moreover, all other aspects of female sexuality, such as desire, are funneled into the Herlanders' emphasis on mothering. Gilman uses the same terminology as we would use but she redefines what the words mean based on her conception of a new woman.

But, Gilman's utopia is never fully realized. The Herlanders' technological advancements and self-reliant civilization cannot keep the men from influencing their culture for the worse.

Some academics take a critical stance on Gilman‟s rendering of a utopian existence. Kathleen

Margaret Lant argues that Gilman‟s reimagining of females “violates” her belief in raising women to higher standards. Terry, one of the men invading Herland, and Alima, a Herlander, join in marriage after the men reside in Herland for some time. The union creates controversy with Gilman‟s utopia because the narrative focuses on the buildup of violent behavior which leads to Terry‟s attempt to rape Alima (Lant 292). She argues that “the masculinist values of the patriarchy impose themselves onto feminist values of the novel” with Terry‟s attempt at rape, which completely degrades Gilman‟s efforts to redefine the “feminist „body‟ [and] ideology of her novel” (Lant 292). Lant believes the overwhelming presence of masculinity, primarily in

Terry‟s exertion of sexual power over Alima, undermines her efforts to re-imagine women‟s gender and sex scripts in this new world. According to Lant, Gilman cannot prohibit patriarchal tendencies from flooding into her writing; Gilman attempts to put forth a new ideology to

36 revolutionize the way women are viewed in society, but her society dictates how she writes, as we see the story as “almost exclusively impelled by the „sex motive‟” Gilman wants to eradicate

(303).

Lant‟s concerns are understandable. Once the men infiltrate Herland, we receive conceptions of the world exclusively from Van, who is part of this clan of patriarchal men.

Moreover, we are continually reminded by the men that Herlanders are not real women, mainly because they do not exhibit qualities of women that Van, Jeff, and Terry are used to in their world. It is discouraging when the men come in and impose their ideology on Herlanders, eventually causing a shift in Herlander society that had been thriving without their intervention.

The men‟s influence on Herlanders culture is a realistic depiction of the resistance patriarchy will set against the utopian experiment in the novel. . I agree with Lant that Gilman's novel ultimately ends in the disruption of Herland's advanced culture, and I argue that we must view this disruption as a call to action for women to oppose patriarchal restrictions placed on them.

Laura Donaldson's "The eve of de-struction: Charlotte Perkins Gilman and the feminist re-creation of paradise" analyzes language in ways similar to Lant‟s discussion. Donaldson, however, focuses specifically on the inability of the men to cope with Herlanders‟ redefinition of language similar to their own, thus "[neutralizing] the patriarchal script" while stripping the men of any potential linguistic power they may have over Herlanders (375). Even before the men arrive in Herland, they describe their preconceived notions of how Herland will look to them.

Terry calls Herland “feminisia,” which, as Donaldson notes, is a combination of “feminine” and

“amnesia” used to define women in patriarchal, gender stereotypical terminology (379).

However, when the men were “living in peace and power and plenty” with Herlanders, they felt imprisoned (Donaldson 379). Donaldson claims that Van‟s understanding of peace, power, and

37 plenty reflects on the men‟s gender reversal—since they are not the one‟s dictating peace and power and plenty, they feel like mere slaves to Herlander culture (Donaldson 379). Donaldson's claims are key when analyzing the men's language and how they cope with the redefinition of gender and sex roles. I also argue that, at times, the men's control over language skews our understanding of Herlander culture. Even though the men are tutored in the language of Herland, we have no choice but to view Herlanders through Van's eyes because he refuses to adopt their language in his construction of the narrative.. Because of this, the men inevitably dominate the narrative.

As Hudak argues, Gilman's Herland embodies her "progressivist ideology" as she promotes anew "human" through her evolved characters (456). Gilman "deconstruct[s] and de- essentialize[s] gender" through the Herlanders by emphasizing the need for women to participate in the sciences. The women focus on promoting the good of the whole society and a constructed evolution of their population to create a society wherein women can meet their material needs without male support. Gilman denies gender and sex scripts that force women to maintain restrained roles in society; she uses the Herlanders as purveyors of new gender and sex identities, performing outside of the norm.

The dialogue of the men in Herland is a perfect example of how heteronormative language restricts the roles women perform in their societies. The beginning of the novel is colored by Van‟s claims on the quality of his narrative abilities. Van states that most of the story will be exclusively from his memory and, while recounting the women of Herland, no one will ever believe these women existed: “descriptions aren‟t any good when it comes to women, and I never was good at descriptions anyhow” (Herland 1). His casual and dismissive attitude suggests he draws on the old stereotype that women are illogical and irrational, thus they cannot be

38 sensibly described. As they travel upstream to Herland, they come across inhabitants that challenge their preconceived notions of the Herlanders with “a story about a strange and terrible

Woman Land in the high distance” (Herland 2). The people surrounding Herland perpetuate assumptions about the women, which, as Van reveals, ultimately influences the men‟s approach to Herlander culture. Van‟s reliability comes into question as he attempts to portray himself as a humble narrator. Yes, Van relies on dialogue and descriptions throughout the novel to characterize the Herlanders, but his language suggests that people will inscribe whatever meaning they want upon the women. Moreover, his refusal to acknowledge that women cannot be described already alienates these yet-to-be-seen beings. His claim foreshadows much of the linguistic confusion seen throughout the novel. We will not receive the truest portrayal in terms of gender and sex, but we will read a portrayal based on Van‟s socially constructed ideas.

Part of this bias manifests itself in the men‟s economic advantage. Jeff, Terry, and Van all have interests in science and make quite a prosperous living. Terry enjoys his wealth and spends his time in “exploration” and on “mechanics and electricity.” Jeff is a doctor with a “real interest…in what he loved to call „the wonders of science‟.” Van practices sociology and claims that “you have to back that up with a lot of other sciences” (Herland 2). As aforementioned, the men must find wives in order to establish their sexual dominance. They have economic stability to sustain a family, so, in order to promote themselves as men, they must find women who will lure them into marriage with their physical features. Readers witness the men struggling with the loss of their sex-advantage throughout the novel which, ultimately, leads to their dismissal from

Herland. They prowl for wives and will attempt to influence the Herlanders with their economic stability.

The men also express their own assumptions of Herland. Through their use of snide language, they hypothesize how the women will act during their first encounter—

Terry says, “they would fight among themselves…women always do…”

“You‟re dead wrong,” Jeff told him. “It will be like a nunnery under an abbess—a

peaceful, harmonious sisterhood.”

“Nuns, indeed [exclaims Van]! Your peaceful sisterhoods were all celibate…and under

vows of silence. These are just women, and mothers, and where there‟s motherhood you

don‟t find sisterhood.” (Herland 8)

In the men‟s reality, women are either burdened with jealousy or prudishly innocent. There is no middle ground. Each woman has her own idea of how to raise her child. And as each woman will rely on her own mothering abilities, she will harbor animosity towards other women because she believes her ideals on motherhood are correct. So the men view motherhood as a role which isolates women and causes them to oppose one another. Since the men come from a capitalist society, it is easy to suppose that mothers would want to do their best to raise their children to compete for economic advantage. So, each mother wants the best for their child while all others remain poor—her children will be prosperous capitalists while all others will be impoverished workers. As this discussion between the men foreshadows endeavors to come, they fit right into

Gilman‟s equation of sex-competition and can imagine the roles they will play in this new world, as well as their opportunity to manipulate and take over Herlander culture.

The men‟s struggle with gender first occurs when they encounter inhabitants on the outskirts of Herland. They stumble upon a natural landscape inhabited by three women. The women “separated into three swift-moving figures and fled upward…we saw short hair, hatless, loose, and shining; a suit of some light firm stuff, the closest of tunics and kneebreeches.” Terry

40 ecstatically refers to them as “peacherinos—apricot-nectarines,” and Van mentions how they were “bright and smooth as parrots…[Alima‟s eyes were] as free from suspicion as a child‟s who has never been rebuked. Her interest was more that of an intent boy playing a fascinating game than of a girl lured by an ornament” (Herland 15-16). The descriptions work in two different ways. The Herlanders are fragile and sweet like ripe fruits, childish in their curiosity. The men use twentieth century slang to attribute female sex qualities to the women and, essentially, want to pick them for the ripening. However, these women are also “swift” and have boyish appearances. This description illustrates the men‟s attempt to place a gender upon women, to inscribe their bodies with meaning; yet, they become confused when these Herlanders do not fit their preconceived notions. Jennifer Hudak suggests that the Herlanders are part of the conflated imagery of “the natural, the cultural, and the technological…not only do [they] refuse their status as objects, they also refuse an unambiguous identification with the natural and the organic”

(Hudak 465). Herlanders inscribe new meaning on what it means to be a woman, thus challenging preconceptions that the men attempt to impose.

Gilman‟s evolutionary standard further develops when the men meet other Herlanders in the town square. Van describes them as “not young. They were not old. They were not, in the girl sense, beautiful. They were not in the least ferocious…[they were] calm, grave, wise, wholly unafraid, evidently assured and determined…each was in full bloom of rosy health, erect, serene, standing sure-footed and light as any pugilist” (Herland 19-20). Van‟s account presents a stark difference from the Herlanders we first encounter in the novel. They were still defined in sexualized terms, but these women exhibit qualities from both genders. Pugilist suggests that

Herlanders are fighters and are more powerful than any woman in the men‟s world. However, this word still holds a masculine connotation as it is defined by male athletes who fight for sport.

The men‟s grasping for appropriate language illustrates their inability to connect with this new form of womanhood. Many of these qualities are admirable; being calm, wise, determined, and of rosy health are all normal human characteristics. Herlanders evolved to androgynous standards so they would not be inhibited by sex-advantages from either male or female. Yet, these qualities do not fit into what the men understand as “the girl sense.”

Much of the men's confusion stems from the androgynous features of the Herlanders. In

Gilman's novel, androgyny becomes a socially constructed identity for their gender and sex. Jack

Halberstam's Female Masculinity can help give us a better idea on why Herlanders may have adopted these more androgynous standards. Halberstam discusses women's more active roles in rural societies and how women, in taking on more masculine characteristics, are able to participate in physical labor similar to their male counterparts. The Herlanders are able to create this safe and technologically advanced utopia because they do not adhere to gender and sex scripts that other societies impose on their members. Despite this evolution in gender identity, women still face "intense gender scrutiny and surveillance" because they do not perform the socially acceptable gender identity assigned to them at birth (Female Masculinity 58). Even Jeff complained that Herlanders gender identity makes them inferior. He states that "'If their hair was only long...they would look so much more feminine'" (Herland 30). Because the men have control over the narrative, we are aware of the scrutiny of Herlanders' androgyny.

Just as gender is a manipulated public conception, androgyny becomes one, too.

Androgyny‟s meaning depends on the “relation to the speaker, the listener, and their current condition…androgyny, which incorporates ideas about power and desire, becomes a different signifier when viewed from a position of greater or lesser control over either of those qualities”

(Atterbery 134). Androgyny is as much of a social construction as are typical gender roles. It is

42 relatable to the individual(s) using it at a certain point in time and the power individuals possess.

Herlanders use androgyny to forego certain sex distinctions keeping them from evolving as a society. Androgyny is less inviting for the men, mostly because they cannot comprehend how they will fit into the women‟s lives (that is, assuming Herlanders‟ subscribe to marriage ideas similar to the men‟s world). These women do not need their help, nor do they hold purely female qualities, so the men‟s purpose is lost. Herlanders become social outliers that do not fit into the schema of gender construction. Van applies language like "pugilist" or erectness yet also assigns them feminine qualities of serenity and "rosy health," signaling his inability to properly define

Herlanders. Just as their sciences fail them in understanding Herlander advancements, their language fails them in describing these progressive women. Without clearer conceptions that fit into the men‟s reality, Herlanders do not qualify as real women.

The Herlanders not only change the social conceptions surrounding their identities but also enact principles of Social Darwinism on their environment. Their land consists of “broad green fields and closely cultivated gardens sloped away…with good road winding pleasantly”

(Herland 17). Instead of wild and strange territory of which the men were warned, Herlanders cultivate their new society with perfection in mind. Likewise, the animal population retains only desirable traits. Van details how Herlanders bred certain qualities out of their felines—

By the most prolonged and careful selection and exclusion they had developed a race of

cats that did not sing!...the most those poor dumb brutes could do was to make a kind of

squeak when they were hungry or wanted the door open, and…to purr, and make the

various mother-noises to their kittens. Moreover, they had ceased to kill birds. They were

rigorously bred to destroy mice and moles and all such enemies of the food supply.

(Herland 49)

What the men normally knew as cats, those animals that "sing" and make elaborate noises as well as hunt down a wide variety of prey, now only make noise when needed and stalk pesky rodents that destroy the land. The cats serve a double purpose. One is that they resemble

Herlanders—they exhibit qualities needed to survive in this world. However, Van‟s classification of the “poor dumb brutes” suggests that, despite all their advancement, Herlanders are still misled. Herlanders, like their cats, are an evolved species but not necessarily progressive.

Moreover, Gilman's discussion of the cats suggests the men feel emasculated just as the cats are no longer wholly cat-like. Rigorous breeding of the cats has bred out some essential feline qualities, such as mewing. The men see this as a connection to themselves--the Herlanders have taken away their masculine control, just as the cats can no longer mew. No matter how advanced the society, the men‟s bias will taint how we view Herlander achievements. The cat‟s self- sufficiency, in Van‟s mind, only goes so far, as with the Herlanders. The men will have to soon enough "fix" their culture so they are no longer the “poor dumb brutes.”

According to Gilman, mothering was the key to an evolved society. Motherhood should be dependent upon “results,” just like any other method of labor; it “must be judged as it serves its purpose to the human race,” which reproduces desirable qualities throughout humanity. But if women do not evolve out of their typical sex-functions, “[women are] too female for perfect motherhood” (“Women in Economics” 105, 106, 108). Women have to break free from the confines of a too feminine motherhood, which involves securing a husband and depending on husbands for sustenance while raising children in a patriarchal culture. If women continue procreating for purposes other than creating a superior race of individuals, motherhood is lost in the world of male sex-advantages. Mothering must be seen as a process to create new advanced beings, supporting economic aspirations of Gilman's new woman.

Similar to Gilman‟s standards, Herlanders redefine mothering into a highly specialized and revered process. The history behind their parthenogenesis is described in very systematic terms: “they began with a really high degree of social development…then they developed this virgin birth capacity. Then, since the prosperity of their children depended on it, the fullest and subtlest coordination began to be practiced” (Herland 67). Mothering in Herland is a well perfected craft; “they were Making People—and they made them well” (Herland 69). Absent from the discussion is any soft, feminine, endearing diction we typically associate with mothering. To Herlanders, women‟s bodies are mechanized and fluid machines that generate efficient beings, which can be seen as one variation on a theme developed as Haraway‟s cyborg.

They are no longer merely wombs to replenish society but are part of the larger goal to change the genomic and social structure of women to create a new human being that is not constrained by traditional gender and sex norms. To Gilman, this is where the organic and organization combine to create a more economically independent female. Mothering is part of public industry to promote the better of the population. It becomes a collective instead of an individual and sometimes isolating process. Women depend on one another to help them through the process and in rearing children. Katherine Fusco‟s “Systems, Not Men: Producing People in Charlotte

Perkins Gilman‟s Herland” argues, “Gilman dissolves the distinction between biological and mechanical reproduction through her insistence that the proper way to understand a person is as both product and part of a system” (Fusco 427). This new system of mothering becomes part of the organic institution of society and Herlanders undergo social and physical changes in order to comply with the new standard. But, as we will see with paternal ownership, the men are reluctant to accept this mechanized form of reproduction.

Since mothering has been redefined and no men are present, paternal ownership is no longer a possibility. Children are only associated with the birth mother “in the records…but in dealing with it personally it is Lato, or Amel, without dragging in its ancestors” (Herland 76).

Usually when a child is born, he/she takes the father‟s last name and will hold on to it until death or marriage. However, Herlanders are not hindered by paternal control. Herlander children have no ties to individual family or historical background, besides the history of the entire population.

Children belong to the whole country. Van raises issue with this rendering of mothering, stating,

“„You speak as if it were done for the convenience of the consumer—not the pride of the producer‟…„it‟s both,‟ said Somel. „We have pride enough in our work‟” (Gilman 76). Both the men and Herlanders recognize the industrializing of mothering. Children are spoken of in terms of labor; they are products to be taken up by the consuming Herlander society while they are simultaneously proud of their work. This is where Gilman‟s new organic entity fits into the equation. Women and children promote the economic efficiency of the population, becoming organic cells of the economic organization of society as they treat mothering like a science.

Readers may shy away from the calculated and constructed language used by Van to define this new type of mothering, but Herlanders successfully rewrite an otherwise confining process.

Desire, an emotion often associated with jealousy and greed, is redirected for the benefit of mothering. After spending years in Herland, the men become close to several inhabitants. As they contemplate taking wives, a discussion of desire and its meaning to Herlanders comes to the forefront. Desire, often linked to marriage, becomes redefined in terms of the general good. Van describes female sex motive—“The drama of the country was—to our taste—rather flat. You see, [the Herlanders] lacked the sex motive and, with it, jealousy. They had no interplay of warring nations, no aristocracy and its ambitions, no wealth and poverty opposition” (Herland

99). Desire connects with the vices of sex-distinction. To have desire means to harbor all the passions that promote jealousy, ambition, anger, hatred, etc. Herlanders do not answer to “a male head” but only focus on “Peace and Beauty, and Comfort and Love…Growth” (Herland 113,

117). Herland is no longer exposed to human vices. They do not worry about dictators overthrowing their natural order or impoverishment of their citizens. Desire can corrupt, but it is transposed into mothering—

The whole being is uplifted and filled with a concentrated desire for that child. We

learned to look forward to that period with the greatest caution…when that deep inner

demand for a child began to be felt she would deliberately engage in the most active

work, physical and mental; and even more important, would solace her longing by the

direct care and service of the babies we already had. (Herland 70)

For those that have not met the birthing quota, desire channels into creation. Those who have met their quota or are discouraged from reproducing channel desire in their efforts to aid the system of production. Desire becomes selflessness; it is a direct action for the greater good rather than a personal pleasure. To Van and the others, sex motive is an individual sharing of one‟s self with their partner. But Herlanders' redirection of libido from sexual desiring to mothering expands their roles as benevolent creators of a new race of human.

Of course, one problem we see with Herlanders' parthenogenesis is that some women are discouraged from reproducing. Herlanders are vague about why some are not allowed to be mothers but are instead directed towards hands on roles with other womens' children. While this selective breeding assures only the best qualities will transfer into Herlander children, Gilman's eugenics beliefs still limit the amount of autonomy some women can claim. She believes in uplifting women's roles in society through social evolution, but not all women are allowed to

47 share in her dream. Moreover, the passionlessness in the Herlanders‟ mothering and androgyny can be read as further narrowing, rather than expanding, gender and sex possibilities. The dangers of its overly structured quality could limit many attempts at utopic thinking by denying other forms of mothering which could enhance the experience. Gilman's utopia is important to recognize, especially during the early stages of the feminist movement, but it still contains dark and demeaning features for certain aspects of the populace.

Despite the conflicting meanings of desire, the men marry Herlanders in modest ceremonies. But Van‟s frustration in his unconsummated marriage reflects on his personal idea of desire. When Ellador refuses to have sex with him, his anger peaks—

Confound it! I hadn‟t married the nation, and I told her so. But she only smiled at her

own limitations and explained that she had to „think in we‟s‟…My happiness was in the

hands of a larger, sweeter womanhood than I had ever imagined…I was madly in love

with not so much what was there as with what I supposed to be there. (Herland 129)

These ideas of love and desire recall Gilman‟s opposition to sex-distinctions. If Ellador willingly gave herself to Van, she would lose her “larger, sweeter womanhood.” Van tries to impose his own beliefs of love and desire onto Ellador, but she refuses. She questions sex, asking if it was

“anything higher than for mutual love to hope to give life…you have to be patient with us. We are not like the women of your country. We are Mothers, and we are People, but we have not specialized in this line” (Gilman 126). If it is not for reproduction, then what use is copulation?

Her desire is to keep inscriptions of mothering that she currently upholds. What is interesting is that Ellador speaks of sex as a process or a "line" in which a laborer would specialize, once again relating back to women‟s organic implication in the economy. Still, she pleads with Van to be

48 patient and give her time to change, showing her willingness to alter her life. She will perform her gender in another fashion, one more suited to Van‟s taste.

Herlanders ultimately change their society when they agree to marry the men. The men and three Herlanders join in Holy Matrimony “before that vast multitude of calm-faced mothers and holy-eyed maidens, [wherein] came forward our own three chosen ones” (Herland 120). The men stake claim on women not only through the marriage ceremony but through their choice of three specific women. It is presented as a privilege, as if they were doing the Herlanders a great honor in marriage. This is where Herlanders‟ gender inscription reverses. Herlanders succumb to the men‟s need to claim feminine property. They become mere choices in a transaction, rather than equal beings who are known for more than their sex-advantages.

Terry, who is most set in his patriarchal ways, refuses to change his identity and overtly forces his gender inscriptions onto Herlanders. He believes in true feminine qualities and that

Herlanders have “„no modesty…no patience, no submissiveness, none of that natural yielding which is woman‟s greatest charm‟” (Herland 98). To Terry, attracting a mate means displaying sex-advantages harbored by women in his own country; he wants a wife who needs him and his economic sustenance to feed and clothe her. In his anger, “he hid himself in [Alima‟s] bedroom one night” and attempted to rape her, forcing his conjugal right on the innocent woman. When

Terry is exiled, Van admits that “in a court in our country he would have been held quite „within his rights‟” (Herland 132). Terry is so uncomfortable with the new role prescribed to him as husband, as well as Alima‟s disregard for his customs, that his behavior turns violent. He attempts to destroy Herlander culture and the very essence of their self-sufficiency. Terry cannot understand the culture, so he reacts angrily as he cannot find where he fits into their schema.

Jeff, the one who was supposedly most sympathetic to the way of Herlander life, subtly establishes control in his relationship. As Terry, Ellador, and Van prepare to leave the land for the men‟s own home, Jeff decides he wants to continue on with life in Herland. He laments, “„I wouldn‟t take Celis [back home] for anything on earth…she‟d die! She‟d die of horror and shame to see our slums and hospitals‟” (Herland 135). Jeff attempts to belittle his own home, but he ends up taking the role of protector and provider, shielding Celis from any danger she may face back in the men‟s world. Jeff re-inscribes gender roles that Celis once held. He is making her into a wife who needs his assistance and guidance, a child too true fragile for crime, violence, or any other mischief. True, Herlander society is more advanced and void of crime, but Jeff‟s attempts to keep Celis "pure" feminizes her into gender constructions common in his world.

Jeff also alters Herlander culture physically when he impregnates Celis. She is “in happy tears” as she partakes in “New Motherhood”—“there was no pleasure, no service, no honor in all the land that Celis might not have had. Almost like the breathless reverence with which, two thousand years ago, that dwindling band of women had watched the miracle of virgin birth, was the deep awe and warm expectancy with which they greeted this new miracle of union” (Herland

140). Mothering takes on a different meaning now that Jeff has rewritten gender roles. Celis takes her pregnancy very well; she sees it as a privilege, but she becomes dependent on Jeff.

Instead of Herlanders depending on one another in mothering, it once again becomes part of female gender construction when Herlanders lose shared responsibility of raising child. It is Jeff and Celis‟ child, not the child of the whole nation. Plus, this new pregnancy is presented as a godsend. Treated with "reverence" and as a "miracle", this new birth rewrites the history of

Herland, threatening their gender identities they sustained for so long. Gilman‟s utopian dream is

50 never fully realized as the men manipulate the culture into their own liking. They change

Herland, planting the seed of destruction Herlanders tried so hard to eradicate.

Van leaves us with some final thoughts that reflect much of Butler‟s discussion on gender construction—

To these women, in the unbroken sweep of this two-thousand-year-old feminine

civilization, the word woman called up all that big background, so far as they had gone in

social development; and the word man meant to them only male--the sex. Of course we

could tell them that in our world men did everything; but that did not alter the

background of their minds. That man, "the male," did all these things was to them a

statement, making no more change in the point of view than was made in ours when we

first faced the astounding fact--to us--that in Herland women were "the world." (Herland

137)

Herlanders altered their society so they no longer knew the sex-advantages men typically held in society. They only understood themselves as self-sufficient beings progressing their conception of gender and men became a non-entity. Herlanders did not need men to be their economic providers or to protect them from horrors in the world. They did not need to use their feminine wiles to attract partners so they could better survive. Truly, these men were only males in terms of their anatomy. Van admits that Herlanders did not change how the men held themselves or their beliefs on roles women should take in society. But he also says that Herlanders did not change based on their influence. However much we praise the Herlanders, we do notice a change. Not only do some Herlanders agree to marry them, but Celis faces a new form of pregnancy, only known to Herlanders thousands of years ago, and Ellador gives up her freeing construction of gender identity to live with Van.

Gilman takes great care to discuss the merits behind Herlanders' parthenogenesis and collective mothering. But our connection to this uplifting of women is greatly affected by the men's opinion. Consequently, there is great unrest among the men as they learn more and more about Herlander society. Terry often says scathingly that Herlanders "aren't womanly," but most of his aggression stems from redefining of motherhood. He does not understand why Herlanders take great care to perfect mothering: "What does a man care for motherhood--when he hasn't got a ghost of a chance at fatherhood? And besides--what's the good of talking sentiment when we are just men together? What a man wants of women is a good deal more than all this

'motherhood'!" (Herland 58). Terry focuses primarily on the needs of men; men need physical access to the wife, both for domestic labor and sexual satisfaction. Despite the great advancements Herlanders have made in producing reputable individuals for their society, Terry does not believe in the value of this new woman. Unfortunately for us, we must acknowledge his disapproval which, in some ways, colors our reading. The men try to portray this mothering in negative ways, so we must sift through their linguistic debris to get to the facts of Herlanders' parthenogenesis. If the women are not submissive, patient, or modest, as Terry terms the

"greatest charm[s]," then they are not real women (Herland98). They are merely misguided brutes who need the men's assistance to get on the "right" path.

Women are not mere beings to be used for incessant reproduction, control, or fulfillment of men's role in society. Herlanders redefine and revolutionize their society when they need to, thus freeing themselves from the gender constructions Gilman warned against. But the position of Herlanders is always precarious. They are in constant danger of the men‟s corruptible influences; Van‟s narrative creates difficulty in truly understanding Herlanders' way of life.

Despite the narrative complexities, Gilman pushes women to reexamine their roles in society. If

52 women continue to cater to the patriarchy, they will never know how useful and independent they can be in their culture.

Dystopian Maternity in Marge Piercy’s He, She, and It

Marge Piercy's He, She, and It represents the fears of Gilman's fallen utopia. The heroine

Shira, an agent for the futuristic Yakamura-Stichen corporation (a monopolistic company that controls a large portion of inhabited land), loses her son Ari in a custody battle with her ex- husband Josh. After she loses her son and faces the wrath of Josh's fury, she returns to her home land, the Jewish free-town of Tikva. While there, Shira reconnects with family and friends, and readers learn of Shira's past in Tikva, as well as the history surrounding Tikva's formation. Shira takes on a job at a local lab run by Ashram, the father of Shira's former lover Gadi. Her job is to teach human emotions to the newly constructed cyborg Yod, to better help him blend in with the rest of the population while he protects Tikva from potential threats. Through Piercy's novel, we are able to examine gender and sex scripts in a dystopian light. Gilman's Herland anticipates

Piercy's world when Herlanders' utopia ultimately falters. Piercy‟s novel can be read as further clarifying how cultural scripts affect utopian desires and lead to a less than equal world.

Before we move into an analysis of the novel, it would help to offer a description of its background. Piercy's fictional post-apocalyptic world is broken up into sectors. Y-S is a corporation that owns a large sector and employs its citizens in an effort to strengthen its technological advancement and control. As we will learn later, Y-S has a clear preference for men over women and also discriminates against individuals with a lower economic status.

Opposite of Y-S are free-towns. Like Shira's Tikva, free-towns are without overbearing governmental control and citizens can live their lives unreservedly. However, free-towns are susceptible to Y-S attacks, as well as rogue pirates who wish to plunder resources. This is why

53 towns like Tikva must constantly defend themselves from both cyber and physical attacks.

Between Y-S and free-towns is the Glop, the largest area of land which is home to "day workers and gang niños and the unemployed" (Piercy 31). In order to protect oneself from any potential violence, individuals residing in or passing through the Glop wear a black suit-like outfit which eliminated traces of "age, class, sex," and difference in size (Piercy 31). Despite the efforts by

Glop citizens to blend in, Piercy's world is far from utopian. The characters reside in a tumultuous world dominated by gender, sex, and class scripts determining their fate. Piercy shows readers the fears of feminists alike--an unequal world that results in utter chaos and destruction, with powerful corporations dominating what little citizens have to offer.

Tikva represents a sort of racial segregation opposite of Gilman‟s eugenicist ideals. In essence, Tikva is a Jewish ghetto—it is a place on the outskirts of the nation where Jewish members of society have been pressured to retreat to in order to avoid the discrimination of Y-S or the Glop. Tikva does give characters freedom from oppression, but inherent in this free-town is a racially-segregated area similar to Herlander society. Herlanders represent white, middle class women who promote the continuation and constant cultivation of their perfect society.

Piercy‟s Tikva also promotes continual cultivate of society, especially because childbearing is rare. But Piercy‟s society envisions a futuristic ghetto as the locus of alternative values. The citizens of Tikva promote freedom and individuality as they protect themselves from corporations attempting to take over the town and fit them into the cookie cutter mold of traditional gender and sex scripts. Gilman does promote the evolution of women in society just as Piercy does, but Piercy‟s representation of Tikva is more promising as a center for individuals to escape from the persecution of racial stereotypes.

As aforementioned, the opening of the novel presents us with a custody battle, which establishes a dystopian, patriarchal tone for the rest of the narrative. Shira waits nervously for a decision from the court--she will either obtain full custody over Ari, or she will have him ruthlessly ripped from her life to be given to her spiteful husband. We learn from the narrator exactly why she fears the impending decision: Y-S favors males over females. At Ari's birth,

Shira assigned him her surname, Shipman. However, Shira experiences "an odd chill" when the recorded Y-S verdict gives Ari's surname as Josh's surname Rogovin (Piercy 4). Despite the socially accepted practice of keeping one's surname, Shira is discriminated against when Y-S assigns Ari his father's name. The move by Y-S confirms Shira's fears--as Ari's father, Josh claims paternal control over their son. This greatly contrasts with Gilman's conception of children. Gilman believed in collective ownership of children, as evidenced in Herlanders' absent surnames. But Piercy shows us a male-dominated world within just four pages of the novel. Shira is powerless to fight against her husband and Y-S's decision. Y-S deems her a secondary citizen, which ultimately keeps her from seeing her own son. Josh adds insult to injury when he himself claims ownership of Ari. He counters Shira's exasperated pleas with a cold response, "'[Ari's] mine now. He's my son, he's a Rogovin'" (Piercy 4). Josh asserts his paternal control over his son, completely severing Shira's relation to Ari. Ari is his; he owns his son. She may have originally claimed Ari as her own at birth when she assigned him her name. But Y-S and Josh rewrite Ari's (and Shira's) identity by maintaining paternal control over Ari.

Moreover, Shira's lower economic status only adds to her alienation. Y-S's verdict makes it clear that Shira is not as affluent as Josh--"'In regard to this matter the judgment of the panel is to award custody to the father, Josh Rogovin, status T12A, the mother, Shira Shipman, status

T10B, to have visitation privileges twice weekly" (Piercy 4). Josh's status surpasses Shira's

55 making him, in the eyes of Y-S, a more valuable citizen. Instead of a utopian existence wherein all individuals share equal status, Shira is clearly seen as beneath her husband. Unlike her former male companion, she suffers from the inability to penetrate the economic world of Y-S. This is where we see the relevance of Gilman's aforementioned critique of her contemporary society. If women cannot infiltrate the economics of their society, they will never achieve the evolved standards of anew, economically efficient human being. Shira cannot effectively rewrite her gender script if her surrounding society denies her ability to be economic equals to Josh. Thus, she is stuck in the role of a traditional wife--she must submit to men's authority because he has economic stability to provide for the family.

Interestingly, not all families in He, She, and It suffer from an overbearing paternal control. Malkah, Shira's grandmother, reveals a more maternal tradition in childrearing and a continuation of Jewish tradition. Before Shira married Josh, Malkah shares the origin of a family custom. Shira was not raised by her own mother but was raised by Malkah, which became tradition in their family. Malkah tells Shira, " when a woman had a baby, it was of her line. Men came, men went, but she should remember that her first baby belonged to her mother and to [the grandmother] but never to the father" (Piercy 38). Malkah makes a clear matriarchal distinction in her family and perpetuates Jewish tradition in Tikva. Not only does her proud, strong, and charismatic demeanor make her a powerful matrilineal figure in Tikva, she also emphasizes the dependable nature of women. Women take care of children--they are a constant in children's lives because they give birth and want to raise children to become respectable citizens. Gilman's method of mothering is similar to Malkah in that she places emphasis on children belonging to the whole family, not just the mother. Men are fleeting but women create the foundation for children's existences.

But this custom turns out to be a lie fabricated by Malkah to protect Shira. In order keep the identity of Shira's mother a secret, Malkah formulates the matriarchal custom. Riva, Shira's mother, is a pirate and considered a dangerous criminal. So, Malkah tells Shira it was custom for the grandmother to raise children instead of the mother (Piercy 79). Once Shira learns the truth, she unleashes her anger towards Malkah. But Malkah's lie reveals Piercy's suggestion that mothering is powerful. Malkah is a proud, independent woman who takes pride in Shira, who is the product of her rearing. Malkah had no help in raising Shira; she honed her mothering talents and set the foundation for Shira to become a strong individual. Despite Malkah's lie, Piercy illustrates the strength in women to raise children, even in troubled societies. Like Gilman,

Piercy promotes mothering as superior to a heteronormative upbringing.

Piercy's work values childbirth and child rearing, especially in with its devastated dystopian world. Shira's world was overcome by industrial waste, which ravished the land and left many individuals infertile from toxic chemicals. So, anyone who can bear children are valued above infertile citizens. This led to government controlled pregnancy for fertile individuals, which consisted of strict monitoring of the genetic and physical development of the child (Piercy 116). The world Piercy constructs values procreation similar to Gilman's

Herlanders. Children offer an opportunity to grow and rebuild the human race in the wake of destruction. The Herlanders rebuilt their land and took great care in developing an evolved race in the absence of men. Gilman's Herlanders systematically raise their children and ensure that only the most desirable qualities transmit into the population. Individuals in Piercy's world do not have the luxury of easily repopulating, but they also take great care in making sure children who are produced have only the best care and best qualities in their genome. Like Gilman, Piercy constructs an agenda that goes beyond the notion of maternity as a woman‟s destiny. Both

57 authors offer women a higher purpose in life—replenishing the population with socially progressive individuals who add to the evolution of women out of traditional roles. But Gilman and Piercy comment on unintended consequences of feminist intervention in divorce; while women were seen as the natural choice in parental matters, economics now factors heavily in custodial decisions.

Similar to Herlanders, Malkah challenges the institution of marriage. After an attack on

Tikva, Malkah, weakened from the assault, grudgingly allows Shira to help her dress. Shira places an heirloom barette in Malkah's hair, which encourages Malkah to reveal more family custom: "'In getting married, you've broken a tradition started by [my mother]. Maybe getting divorced undoes the harm'" (Piercy 156). Malkah resents Shira's attachment to a male figure.

Women in Malkah's family have been independent for years and have raised acceptable children.

Shira is the black sheep--she led a heteronormative lifestyle which not only challenged her background but also leads to the loss of her child. Malkah, like Gilman, values independent women who can sustain themselves. In marriage, Shira sacrificed the self-sufficiency her family instilled in her.

Nili, the cyborg companion of Shira's mother Riva, represents fluidity in gender identity.

In some ways, Nili is militaristic. She has a strict exercising regimen to maintain her stamina and agility. Her first description is very humanistic. She has long, blood red hair, intertwined in a braid of “beads and wires.” Under her dark skin, Shira noticed her muscular tone, seemingly unnatural for a woman (Piercy 188). Nili exhibits humanistic qualities that allow Shira to place her within gender and sex constructions with which she is familiar. She clearly looks like a woman, so Shira more readily attributes female identity to this new stranger but remains vigilant and unwary of her more androgynous qualities.

Nili‟s civilization has survived for so long because they have developed a method of asexual reproduction similar to Gilman‟s Herlanders. Nili‟s people, who represent a race in the devastated Black Zone near Israel, no longer have any males. Without men, their heritage would die because they could not find a sperm donor to help procreate and continue the lineage. But

Nili and her people have found a way to overcome biological setbacks and utilize advanced cloning technology to recreate their race and even enhance it with cyborg modifications. Shira‟s society values childbearing because reproduction is still heavily controlled by men; women are infertile due to environmental effects from post-apocalyptic wars. But if women had access to technology as Nili‟s society does, they could recreate their population with no trouble. The individuals in Nili‟s society have taken control of technology in order to overcome any biological setbacks their sex throws in front of them (Martinson 55). Through Nili‟s manipulation of technology for reproductive purposes, readers can understand how cyborgs, like

Herlanders, reside in a liminal space where traditional sex scripts cannot define them.

However, the conceptions of Nili change when she begins to show her nature as a cyborg.

For the sake of her people in the Black Zone, she must open herself up to the prospect of copulating with men in order to replenish her race. Nili asks Shira how it is to be with a man, having only had sexual experiences with Riva. Nili‟s nonchalant discussion of sex suggests that it is not important who the partner is and heteronormative culture is not essential to continue in this tradition. Yet, Nili acknowledges that in order to continue her race in this dystopian existence, she must learn to be with men. And she considers Shira's ex-lover Gadi—

I must do it. We know that if we open up to the world, we‟re going to have to deal with

men. I‟m supposed to find out what they‟re like. [Gadi] seems like as good a choice as

any…You don‟t object? I believe women and men frequently feel possessive toward each

other. (Piercy 256)

Nili views sex objectively; it is purely for the procreation of her race in Israel. If her people are to survive, she must help her people by bringing men into the equation. Nili may not view sex as significant (making it as insignificant as Janet does to Jael‟s sexual excursion with Davy), but her resignation to take which ever man she can puts her back into the role of traditional femininity, in that she must seek a husband figure in order to sustain her population. She does not have a choice in the matter; she must choose any male because of the dire situation of her people. For being a cyborg and supposedly unaware of human emotions, Nili is certainly astute to Shira‟s previous relationship. She clears her decision with Shira because she understands the human emotion of jealousy. While Shira tells her she no longer has any feelings for Gadi, Nili‟s is very aware of human interaction and emotion and realizes she must act accordingly. Nili acts like she subscribes to traditional gender scripts by discussing her future relationship with Gadi, showing herself to be more in tune with humanity.

Nili's search for men to procreate relates to Gilman's eugenicist imperative to increase the population but in a more positive aspect. While Gilman believes in procreating for only idealized white individuals, Piercy's female cyborg looks to replenish her devastated Jewish community.

As seen in both women's novels, their characters see maternity as one of the highest purposes in life. Through Nili, Piercy posits the value the Jewish community places in repopulating after the

Holocaust's genocide. Sex with Gadi serves a much higher purpose. While Shira, Gadi, and the rest of the Tikva residents might view sex as a merely pleasurable activity, Nili understands that sex can help lead to the future of her people in Israel.

Chapter Three: Russ and The Female Man

Joanna Russ's The Female Man focuses less on mothering than Gilman's Herland, but, like Gilman's novel, she contemplates women's ability to socially and physically change their gender and sex identities. When her characters' stories intertwine, we take note of how each manipulates gender and sex in order to survive in her individual society. However, their interaction also complicates our understanding of gender and sex binaries. Russ‟s novel reevaluates restrictions imposed by these binaries and the seemingly distant goal of a utopian society. Russ incorporates cyborgs as a way to rethink traditional gender and sex norms. And as we will see later in the chapter, Piercy was writing variations on themes treated earlier by Russ, especially in relation to the cyborg.

There is a long history of scholars debating The Female Man's manipulation of gender and sex in order to imagine a utopian society for all women. Much of the debate revolves around whether the changes Russ enacts through her characters are positive or negative, especially in regard to progression of the second wave of the feminist movement which occurred simultaneously with the rise of an open sex culture. While some critics see the novel as offering a consciousness raising experience to readers, others see it as failing to provide useful insights into how women might combat sexism.

In my analysis of Russ's novel, I focus on how the novel's structure reflects on the need for women to unite and combat patriarchal influence on their identity formation. Amanda

Boulter's essay stands out because it reveals both positive and negative aspects of Russ's manipulation of gender and sex. She focuses on how these reconfigurations, which are discovered through the novel‟s structure, are either forced upon female characters or how they expose forms of feminism that reject dominant scripts. Boulter suggests that science fiction's

61 audience transforms reading into an activity which uncovers hidden meanings throughout the intricate structure of the novel. We must "decipher the 'plot'" and "unravel and re-articulate the montage of voices and worlds in each section" (Boulter 156). This process of discovering new meanings through our reading of the novel produces a "consciousness-raising" effect which, in turn, alerts us to inequalities faced by marginal groups, such as women facing constrictive gender and sex scripts (Boulter 156). Boulter provides the example of Joanna's narration as our introduction to meaning making through an analysis of structure. When we first meet Joanna, she discusses how she became a "female man" in order to better navigate her world. Of course, she did not physically alter her appearance to become a man; readers must then analyze the diction to uncover meaning. Joanna is still a woman but she utilizes masculine traits to elevate her role in society. She "culturally [constructs]" this new identity as a "feminist-in-progress," and we help discern this through her diction, which ultimately condemns hegemonic patriarchy (Boulter 156).

Thus, we attribute a definition to "female man" without an explicit explanation from Joanna herself. While any novel can lead to consciousness-raising and signal readers to inequalities inherent in society, I argue (along with Boulter) that the structure of this particular novel requires more intensive work for interpretation. Readers of postmodern texts such as Russ‟s must enact a little more effort to determine the meaning of the novel's discourse.

Jael's world reflects how individuals both adhere to and challenge gender and sex norms, so I believe Boulter's condemnation of language used to describe transgender individuals in the novel comes in handy. Boulter's main focus is Womanland, or Jael's world, where the four Js interact with the physically altered Manlanders. The cross-dressing and physically altered individuals are described in vague and partially feminine, partially masculine terminology. This, essentially, reflects the "[gross] inadequacy" of the available language to describe subversive

62 individuals. Consequently, Boutler argues that the inadequacy of language forces readers to analyze "processes" by which these individuals are "engendered in language use" (158). The narrator (who, at this point, is Jael) is unable to attribute adequate descriptions to the changed because she does not have the vocabulary to do so. Readers understand how much society is entrenched in gendered language because those who reside outside of popular gender scripts cannot be adequately described. Boulter's observation, similar to those made by scholars analyzing language in Herland, calls attention to how gender and sex performances outside of the norms are indefinable because of our carefully gendered language.

Ultimately, Boulter argues that the shifting and challenging of identities reflected in this failure of language leads to Russ's characters both reinforcing and challenging hegemonic ideas of gender and sex. She refers again to Joanna's transformation into a female man, acknowledging the double-edged sword: "She evades the legitimate identities of both men and women.” Her masculinity does not compromise her "womanhood" but constructs it as an identity subtending her performance. She is culturally positioned as female, and yet is able to swap her position by

"imitating male behaviour" (161). Joanna faces issues similar to those of progressive women in our current society. She exists in two different worlds. She can act masculine by taking on this new persona, but she is forever entrenched in a feminine identity because that is how society defines her. Thus, we as readers must take extra steps to tease out subversion laced throughout

Russ's narrative.. While it is true that the diction used in Russ's novel reinforces some heteronormative aspects of society, it is her characters' challenging of these norms that serve as a metaphor for women to take a stand against oppressors in their society.

The Female Man illustrates numerous ways in which language inscribes identity upon characters and their respective situations. There are times when the J's are limited by the

63 language in their worlds and are not understood by individuals around them. But I believe this inability to define the characters only solidifies the fact that we need to keep pushing towards a utopian society where no one is limited because they must have an officially sanctioned identity.

Susan Ayres argues that The Female Man acts as a "literary war machine" as it challenges old literary conventions which reinforce " heterosexual institutions that regulate gender."

Specifically, the narrative re-appropriates language to confine or empower its female characters

(Ayres 22). Gender and identity are inevitably intertwined, so by examining language used in the different worlds, we can see how each world works together to create a language which diminishes the "standards of gender illegibility" (Ayres 23). Jeannine and Joanna provide a perfect backdrop for Ayres' discussion of diction. Both women are entrenched in a world dominated by patriarchal gender and sex scripts; consequently, this affects the construction of their language. They cannot imagine, at least initially, a world outside of heterosexuality, so their language is affected by their "straight mind[s]" (Ayres 23). The straight mind also extends to

Joanna's analysis of courtship. Joanna depicts a conversation between a man and a woman where the male dominates conversation because he believes himself better than her. Consequently, she makes excuses for his behavior, reinforcing heteronormative code which enables him to control the relationship (Ayres 23-24). We also see this domination of language when Joanna introduces us to physically printed books for men and women which dictate how they should act in social situations. In this circumstance, language is used literally to construct male and female identities

(Ayres 25). The satirical books confine individuals in Joanna‟s world to specific roles which they must perform in order to be recognized as active members of their society.

While Jeannine and Joanna are entrenched in their male dominated worlds, Ayres argues that Janet's and Jael's worlds re-appropriate language to reject the straight mind. Janet's

64 homosexuality upsets individuals who reinforce heterosexuality in Joanna's world. Men are also irrelevant as Whileawayans practice asexual reproduction (Ayres 28). Moreover, Jael's sexual interaction with her cyborg undermines our understanding of heterosexuality as she dominates a piece of technology.

All in all, Ayres believes that no viable solution to the problem of male domination of women is offered in Russ's novel. Yes, the women in Janet's and Jael's worlds use language to their own advantage; but, as she states, Whileaway is not believable and Womanland is merely dystopian parody of "heterosexual institutions" (31). However, Ayres does believe Joanna's transformation offers a "good short-term solution" (27). This reflects on Ayres' overall argument-

-while readers are not offered viable solutions to being trapped in a male-dominated world, The

Female Man "provides strategy and hope" for women to re-appropriate language which will in turn allow them to "kill the myth of woman and abolish the class of women" (Ayres 32). By employing these strategies for language re-appropriation, women can finally reinvent their gender and sex identities outside of the officially sanctioned scripts. I believe we need to understand that while the worlds created by Russ may not solve women's issues surrounding freedom to create their own identities, her fictional constructs encourage women to seek rights to define themselves in terms outside of heteronormative restrictions.

One of the consistent themes in Russ‟s novel is the J's rejection of being classified as sex objects but rather be seen as sexual beings equal to men. Judith Spector's article, "The Functions of Sexuality in the Science Fiction of Russ, Piercy, and Le Guin," examines how the rebellion against gender scripts in the novel threatens the classification of women as sex objects.

Specifically, Spector focuses on a scene in The Female Man where Jael describes her sexual encounter with her cyborg Davy. Davy, who is an extension of Jael's home, functions as her

65 partner in numerous sexual experiences. Jael recounts a circumstance where she copulates with

Davy while the other three Js are present and, after finishing, receives Janet's remark "is that all?"; she is unimpressed with their act. While Ayres sees this scene more as a parallel between women‟s dehumanization through heteronormative sex in reality (29), Spector points out that

Janet's dismissal of Jael's sexual activity displaces the importance of the act, making it seem insignificant. She also sees this scene as a deeper commentary on sex--it forces the reader to think about "sexuality and its substantial component of hostility" (Spector 200). The men in

Jael's world force sexual activity on women, violating them in embarrassing and violent ways.

However, Jael's actions show women as sexual beings rather than men's sexual objects. Janet's remark also forces both women and men to consider their own sexualities. Heterosexual women readers must consider how they define their relationships with men who "dehumanize" them and whether those relationships can be considered love. Conversely, heterosexual male readers must consider the possibility of being defined as sexual objects (Spector 201). Spector, like Boulter, emphasizes the role of the reader as determining meaning from the novel and, ultimately, questioning his or her own roles in sexuality scripts that dominate their lives. I do not necessarily agree that Jael's copulation with Davy is insignificant; in fact, I think it highlights the revolutionary nature of women's sexuality. But I do believe her domination of Davy calls to mind dehumanization of individuals through heteronormative copulation.

Susana Martin's also focuses on how gender and sex identities can be reconfigured, but her discussion focuses more on how the technology in both Janet's and Jael's worlds either promotes or inhibits the reconfiguration of identity. Martins argues that "the novel draws upon the ambivalent discourses of technology--its fungibility as a signifier, as both a danger to nature and humanity and as a tool for progress, a sign of human agency--to negotiate a process of

66 marking differences from or within our present cultural moment and thereby pointing to future possibilities" (406). Technology can be both a godsend and dangerous. It can allow individuals to cultivate new and exciting identities away from constrictive norms. However, technology can also inhibit individuals and cause much more harm than good.

Martins' analysis of The Female Man is primarily concerned with technology's intersection with "time, history, and the possibility of imagining better, or at least different, worlds" (Martins 406). So, Martins considers how Whileaway, an all-female society, incorporates technology into its evolving population. Not only do Whileawayans utilize different technologies to cultivate a perfect agricultural society, but they have developed a form of reproduction that does not require male partners. Technology paradoxically allows

Whileawayans to return to the "natural," or a time in which individuals were not inhibited by culturally imposed scripts (Martins 406). Thus, Russ's novel imagines future technologies in an attempt to estrange us from the world as we know it, wherein gender stereotypes dominate our personal identities and how we communicate with one another. The Female Man utilizes technology in a way that places women in a category beyond merely being subjects and emphasizes their need to have opportunities similar to men‟s. Through Martins‟ discussion on technology in The Female Man, we can begin to see parallels between Herlanders and individuals in Janet‟s and Jael‟s worlds. Just as Herlanders incorporate technological advancements to cultivate a perfect society and reproduce asexually, Whileawayans and individuals in Jael‟s world utilize technology to foster an evolved population.

Judith Butler's theory of performativity complicates Martins' argument. As we know,

Butler suggests that gender and sex identities are only constructs because society will not recognize characteristics outside of the norm. Individuals can only have an identity based on

67 societal scripts--you cannot be defined outside of your respective civilization. However, because science fiction imagines new worlds, it allows for imagining new constructions of gender and sex. Martins proposes that Whileawayans live outside of the constraints of dominant cultures at the time of the novel‟s production; they do not need to act according to standards that inhibit the growth of Jeannine or Joanna. Whileaway was constructed by Russ to illustrate a civilization shifting towards an existence outside of societal impositions. While I do believe Whileawayans live under their own social restrictions in order to maintain their all-female society, I agree that

Janet and the rest of Whileaway help the other Js discover other non-heteronormative identities.

Of course, "natural" is a relative term. Russ advocates for social determination, in which women can define their own gender and sex without having to fear the control of men; Piercy believes in a similar social determination in her construction of the unnatural cyborg Gilman believes women need to advocate for natural mothering as a means to elevate their status in society, even though the means by which she advocates for a new human is anything but natural

(that is, if we think back to her ties to eugenics and Social Darwinism).We could even argue that

Gilman advocates for unnatural forms of pregnancy in order to promote women‟s roles in society.. Each author constructs their narratives, whether natural or unnatural, based on the political situation of their time period. So, we must historicize natural in order to understand each authors' point of view.

While I view Jael's transformation as a metaphor for women to combat patriarchal norms,

Martins believes Jael's physical transformation into a cyborg complicates the intersection between humans and technology. In order to protect herself, Jael receives metal implants in her hands and mouth to resemble claws and fangs. She uses her new status as a cyborg to defend herself against patriarchal men who mean to cause her physical harm (which I will discuss later

68 in the chapter). While Jael's transformation signifies "humans' ability to change," her change allows her to embody the exact masculine qualities against which she fights. She promotes the idea that "women must turn to drastic measures to overturn patriarchal oppression" (Martins

411). Jael reinforces hegemonic patriarchal tendencies that confine her. Not only do we witness how technology can promote the construction of new identities, but we see that violent transformations women go through with technology can also keep them bound in a world that oppresses them. Thus, Martins suggests that Russ complicates our understanding of gender and sex construction when she introduces two characters who utilize technology in two very different ways (415). Russ's novel promotes a consideration of different possibilities to reach a utopian existence but also suggests we practice restraint in how we approach said possibilities.

Needless to say, Russ's novel presents numerous implications with male characters' actions and also with the Js themselves. Russ wrote the novel at a time when women and other minority cultures experienced both positive accomplishments and exhausting setbacks in the fight for equality. By breaking our discussion of the novel down and focusing on each individual character, science fiction readers can better understand how Russ challenges gender and sex scripts that were prevalent at the novel‟s conception.

Jeannine

Jeannine Dadier, who resides in a world still ravished by the Great Depression, exemplifies the plight of those constrained by gender norms. She is wholly concerned with her looks and attaining a husband who will allow her to live comfortably. She constantly “[checks] the lines around her eyes in her pocket mirror (I‟m only twenty-nine!),” and her love interest is her boyfriend Cal, who “was going to have some silly thing or other to say about being a reporter, little blond hatchet face and serious blue eyes” (Russ 2, 3). Jeannine cannot afford to

69 sustain herself in her economic depression ridden world. She also will not be accepted in her world if she does not marry soon and avoid living as an old maid. And because Jeannine needs a provider, she cannot accept empty promises or unrealistic career goals offered to her by Cal.

Like many women restricted by their femininity, she must rely on a man to help her survive.

Jeannine must seek any avenue necessary to be able to live in her economically deficient society.

She must, inevitably, conform to naturalized gender norms and forego personal agency for the guaranteed security of heteronormativity.

Jeannine‟s struggle with gender norms manifests itself in her internal thoughts. Prior to visiting her family at a lakeside cabin, Jeannine contemplates how her mother and brother will condemn her because she still does not have a husband. She reflects on her role as a woman and imagines herself as Cal‟s wife. It is an eerily dreamy scene where she is both a dutiful and resentful wife—“Cal will say, „You didn‟t sew my clothes‟…Cal won‟t let me smoke. He really cares about me.” All she would have to look forward to is reading “the Post” and various articles telling her how to “get cobwebs off the ceiling with a rag tied to a broom handle” (Russ 107).

Through the narration, we can sense Jeannine‟s ambivalence towards the life gender scripts offer her. She will no longer have an individual identity but will be defined by her husband and home.

But in this scene, Jeannine consistently “wakes from a dream of Whileaway” (Russ 105). The lingering thoughts of Janet‟s utopian world where women rule preoccupy Jeannine as she attempts to figure out her life. She wants to fulfill the wishes of her society and those of her family, but she is tempted by Whileawayan freedom where she can live outside of these structures. Part of Jeannine wants to change the same “calm and deathly tired” look she has inherited from her mother; but, similar to Muñoz‟s utopia, the place where she might do so is still a distant dream (Russ 112). Heather J. Hicks suggests that, because “Jeannine‟s world is so

70 mired in sexism and economic torpor,” there is no way for her to access rights of individuality because her world would not allow her to fend for herself (Hicks). In Jeannine‟s economically deficient world, she does not have many choices—if she cannot support herself she must find others to support her.

Jeannine‟s interaction with her brother exacerbates her inner struggle to the point that she becomes entangled with Janet‟s identity. As her brother grabs her and tries to convince her to finally take a suitor, Janet appears. She takes Jeannine‟s place in “Bud Dadier‟s hold” as

Jeannine contemplates which type of man she wants to marry. Janet, not used to such behavior,

“has gotten out of [his] hold by twisting his thumb. She is a victim of a natural, but ignorant and unjustified alarm” (Russ 115). In the blink of an eye, Janet is gone and Jeannine once again assumes her place. Janet becomes a symbol for Jeannine‟s conflicted, progressive self. She is the

Jeannine fighting the calm and deathly tired look that plagues her. While Jeannine may solidify the gender norms of her world by subscribing to majoritarian views on marriage, there is a part of her that refuses to continue in this role. This is where Jeannine and Janet become one as they struggle against heteronormative traditions in marriage.

Ultimately, Jeannine abandons this other part of her once she agrees to marry Cal. Not wanting to live alone anymore, Jeannine calls Cal and accepts his marriage proposal. The narrator says she is unquestionably happy but Jeannine ignores “the shadow of her dead self…(who is desperately tired and knows there is no freedom for her this side of the grave)…at one stroke she has amputated her past” (Russ 131). Jeannine conforms to her society‟s standards and suffocates the realization that she will not escape the rat race of gender scripts. Going along with majority conception of how she should live her life, Jeannine not only severs her tie to this

71 self-awareness but also her connection to other women. She still represents the struggles of many women in her society but gives up the fight when faced with pressure of conformity.

Joanna

Joanna is also plagued by gender scripts, but her role is a bit more unique. Joanna often overlaps with the omniscient narrative voice and even the author as character. Joanna‟s identity as the “author” is revealed when she meets Jael. Jael ushers the J's into an elevator as the narrator comments: “The Young One, The Weak One, The Strong One, as she called us in her own mind.

I‟m the author and I know” (Russ 165). There are only four characters present in this section and three are clearly labeled: Jeannine as The Young One, Joanna as The Weak One, and Janet as

The Strong One. By process of elimination, we can assume that Joanna is the “author” of the text. She knows what Jael is thinking because she constructs the narrative.

Moreover, Russ leaves subtle hints about Joanna‟s role as author. When Janet accompanies Joanna to a swank New York party, the latter takes pride in her efforts to "create"

Janet—"Oh, I made that woman up; you can believe it! ...I made her up" (Russ 30). We can take this one of two ways. Joanna gives Janet essential skills to survive in her world. She sets Janet up with living quarters, gives her clothing, and invites her to the party so she can see how men and women interact with one another. Of course, this implicates Joanna in an effort to mold Janet into a more popular image of femininity. But, if we consider Joanna the author, then she made

Janet up as a fictional character. She can make Janet into whatever she wants; she creates Janet‟s character, decides what Janet says, how Janet interacts in the world, and so on. Joanna is a real character because she is acknowledged by the other J's throughout the novel but has a dual role as author and character similar to the J's. While Russ and Joanna may share similar characteristics, and have the same first name, it is never implicitly stated or hinted at that Joanna

72 and Russ are one. We cannot assume that these women are one and the same, but we begin to understand how Joanna‟s representation echoes the struggle of many women, including Russ, during the time period.

While also constricted by heteronormative culture, Joanna backlashes when given an opportunity. When Janet suddenly appears in New York via teleportation, Joanna reflects, “I sat in a cocktail party in mid-Manhattan. I had just changed into a man, me, Joanna. I mean a female man, of course; my body and soul were exactly the same. So there's me also” (Russ 5). She is adamant—there‟s me also—forcing her way into the story as a character with worthwhile gender experiences to share with readers. She asserts herself like a man, dominant and unyielding, while still inhabiting a woman‟s body. Her change into a female man introduces the premise of conscious gender configuration in the novel. We can think back to Ayres‟ discussion of language appropriation and how Joanna utilizes language of masculine culture to place herself in opposition to gender and sex scripts which keep her trapped in traditional femininity. So, Joanna utilizes masculine language to destroy patriarchal control and her tie to society‟s conception of gender, allowing her to shape her own authentic identity. She is a woman, but she can also exhibit masculine qualities of strength and authority. Joanna‟s discussion begins our descent into a rejection of imposing gender scripts.

The first introduction we receive to Joanna‟s world is when she takes Janet to a local socialite‟s party. Feminism is a hot topic of discussion for the partygoers, but many of them reveal resistances to the second wave of feminism. One gentleman asks if the “New Feminism” is necessary in the States, and Saccharissa, one of the many obnoxious women in attendance, declares, “„I would suhtinly like…to see all those women athletes from the Olympics compete with all those men athletes; I don‟t imagine any of these women athletes could even come neah

the men” (Russ 37, 42). Russ's characterization of the pretentious company, which includes the mocking southern accent, establishes abhorrence and questioning of feminism‟s place in society.

According to them, it is an unnecessary movement that misguides women into thinking they can compete with men. This observation of the party‟s conversation reflects on who creates these gender norms. True to Butler‟s suggestion, only those with power can modify gender scripts and the partygoers represent this powerful bourgeois faction. Consequently, feminism loses influence through degradation of its merits. One of the men attempting to seduce Janet, only known as

Sharp Glasses, states that he has not “„got anything against women‟s intelligence…it‟s women‟s psychology…you can‟t challenge men in their own fields…you‟ve got to remember, Janet, that women have certain physical limitations‟” (Russ 43). Here, it is the physical makeup of women that prevents them from charging forth and taking on more prominent roles in society. Gender and sex norms inscribe women with weakness and the lack of mental capacity necessary to contend with men.

Joanna perpetuates patriarchal heteronormativity when she tries to inhibit Janet‟s backlash against bourgeois norms. As Sharp Glasses criticizes women and feminism, Joanna prays that Janet does not fly out of control: “You‟re in a strange place, Janet. Be civil…He‟s being good-humored the only way he knows how. Don‟t hit him…You‟re in someone else‟s house…Be ladylike” (Russ 43, 45). Joanna recognizes Janet‟s struggles in a male dominated world, but she excuses the behavior of those in authority. She may not agree with it, but her thoughts and pleadings with Janet enable anti-feminist sympathizers to continue with their negativity. Sharp Glasses is just acting as “he knows” how to act, and Janet must act like a

“lady.” She must accept her lower status in this world and let men control her and tell her how

74 she should act to avoid conflict. Consequently, Joanna‟s interaction with Janet reveals how she is bound to heteronormative scripts of her world.

However, Janet‟s restlessness overflows into Joanna‟s conception of her world. The two

J‟s try to make an exit before Janet physically harms someone, but the obsessive host forces

Joanna into a kiss. As Joanna pushes the host away, he calls her a “prude.” This language is very familiar to Joanna—“If you scream, people say you‟re melodramatic; if you submit, you‟re masochistic; if you call names, you‟re a bitch. Hit him and he‟ll kill you. The best thing is to suffer mutely and yearn for a rescuer” (Russ 45). Women are in a catch-22. If they submit to male control, they are assumed to want the pain and lack of agency that comes with submission.

If women push men away, they are too emotional and ridiculous. No matter how women react to this hostile assertion of control, they will be labeled negatively and/or violently harmed with no remorse. There is no easy way out of this patriarchal world. Women need to submit to their gender roles to avoid suffering but, in truth, will suffer either way.

When Janet physically harms the host, she challenges gender scripts that define Joanna‟s world. The host becomes flustered at Janet‟s bravado and flips through his representative gender role book, “WHAT TO DO IN EVERY SITUATION.” He tears through the pages, calling Janet

“bitch,” “prude,” “ball-breaker,” and “goddamn cancerous castrator” (Russ 46). Janet‟s attempts to strip the host of his power figuratively castrates him, so he must use his book—a book that defines how he should act as a man—to combat her attempts to undermine his authority. She slaps him and breaks his arm as his “limp-leather notebook [flutters]” to the floor (Russ 47).

Janet physically breaks the host and metaphorically severs male dominance over women. She detaches his gender script—the notebook—from him so he can no longer rely on his masculinity.

The female version of this notebook states that Janet should have “[backed] down—[cried]—

75 manhood vindicated.” Furthermore, Joanna‟s “pink book” reveals under “Brutality” that “Man‟s bad temper is the woman‟s fault. It is also the woman‟s responsibility to patch things up afterwards” (Russ 47). It is woman‟s fault for physical violence. It is Janet‟s fault that the host was upset and harmed. Men and women in Joanna‟s society are guided by these books; texts tell them how to act, how to react, how to carry themselves, how to commit themselves to their gender structures. These published notebooks represent the idea that gender roles are scripted, as the bound pages act as a script for male and female players. Janet urges her to “throw…both [the notebooks] away,” signifying her journey towards redefining her own gender identity outside of majority scripts (Russ 47). Joanna witnesses how to sever the ties between men and positions of power when faced with Janet and the ridiculous and violent demeanor of the male host.

Janet

As previously discussed, Janet Evason‟s presence in the novel provides readers with a view of a progressive utopian society that redefines female gender. Whileaway signifies not only the feminist yearning for an existence in which one can create one‟s own gender identity but also

Russ‟s hope for a world in which second wave feminist goals have been accomplished. One of these accomplishments manifests itself in Whileawayan mothering. Since there are no men present, Whileawayan couples have found an alternative method to conceive. Children have one woman as “the biological mother (the „body-mother‟) while the non-bearing parent contributes the other ovum („other mother‟)” (Russ 49). Similar to Herland's parthenogenesis, Whileaway‟s redefines mothering with its technological advancement in gene splicing. In heteronormative relationships, the woman is mother, a physical provider who must give her body over to producing children. However, in Whileawayan culture, both women are considered mothers and provide for children. There are no gender or sex distinctions that denote who has authority and

76 who must take care of a child. True, one woman must be the birth mother, but there is no one in the relationship with more authority than the other. Whileaway‟s advanced society challenges gender conceptions because it destroys the “natural” and thus any hierarchy; its advanced technology and presence of only one gender voids any idea of gender differences that are considered the norm in our typical society (Martins 406).

Janet‟s first appearance in New York presents an image of this New Woman. The only details of her appearance we receive are that “her fair, dirty hair [flies] and her khaki shorts and shirt [are stained] with sweat” (Russ 4). Janet‟s appearance greatly contrasts with the clean, feminine, fragile appearance women are supposed to exhibit under gender binaries. Rather, she is rough and tomboyish—an undesirable in a world dominated by naturalized gender binaries.

Whileawayan sexual culture unsettles traditional sexuality binaries, as evidenced by

Janet‟s interaction with a male talk show host. Being a unique individual who literally appeared out of thin air, Janet finds herself discussing her life on broadcast television. One male talk show host broaches the subject of sex and exposes how unsettled individuals are with Whileawayan culture. He asks, “do you want to banish sex from Whileaway?...

JE: I'm married. I have two children. What the devil do you mean?

MC:...But there is more, much, much more—I am talking about sexual love.

JE (enlightened): Oh! You mean copulation.

MC: Yes.

JE: And you say we don't have that?

MC: Yes.

JE: How foolish of you. Of course we do.

MC: Ah? (He wants to say, 'Don't tell me.')

JE: With each other. Allow me to explain. (Russ 10-11)

As evidenced from the MC‟s reaction, individuals in this world do not understand Whileaway or homosexuality. He assumes that there can be no sexual love as long as Janet's world is filled only with women; Janet, however, quickly corrects him. Janet‟s tone suggests her amazement at the

MC‟s assumptions. Of course she has sex with her partner! Just because they are two women does not mean that they do not understand sexual love. In this way the novel reflects Butler‟s argument about lesbians being unrecognized by heterosexist society; if the majority of society cannot comprehend homosexuality, then that behavior is considered outside of established norms. Janet‟s identity undermines sexuality scripts cemented in the minds of the population.

The MC‟s embarrassment is evident, especially as the interview is quickly diverted to a commercial break; they would not want Janet‟s descriptions corrupting the minds of innocent people. Without doubt, Janet‟s mere presence is a threat to established norms as her words gesture to distant utopia similar to one described much later by Muñoz, which was taking form at the same time as Russ‟s novel. She represents individuals exploring identities outside of heterosexuality, like those taking part in homoerotic experiences in adult movie theaters or openly subscribing to queer culture.

Janet‟s engagement in sexual activity with Laura, the sixteen year old daughter of a family with which she resides, presents readers with the open sex culture concept of child sexuality. In her revolutionary and controversial book on child sexuality, Judith Levine outlines issues behind society's assumption that children cannot and should not take part in the sexual situations individuals often face. As individuals faced economic hardships and a sweeping social takeover by the political right after the fall of the open sex culture, parents turned to "the media and marketplace" for advice on how to raise their children (Levine xxi, xxii). This "social and

78 economic precariousness" led to "a panic about children's sexuality" as politicians blamed the sexual revolution for the country‟s problems (Levine xxiii). Levine believes that "sex is not itself harmful to minors" (xxxiii). However, she argues that harm comes from situations in which minors are exposed to sex, such as the fear that underage teenagers will face unwanted pregnancies or sexually transmitted diseases because they participate in sex (xxxiii). Society perpetuates a fear that harm will come to those who have sex, especially those who are underage or come from conservative backgrounds. These scare tactics also create " denial or degradation of female and gay desire," suppressing factions of the population that clearly do have sexual inklings like every other human being (Levine xxxiii). The shaming of sex also affects those in various races and social classes, often perpetuating ill-founded stereotypes (Levine xxxiii).

While many find Levine's work dangerous and conflating childhood sexuality with other forms of desire problematic, her analysis of this culture of fear illustrates the very stereotypes Janet attempts to dissolve in her own and Laura's worlds.

J. Jack Halberstam's Gaga Feminism continues the discussion of child sexuality, agreeing with Levine's notion of children as being just as sexual as adults. Children were seen by some political progressives as sexual beings equal to men and women in terms of being able to choose sex during the time when the book was written. Halberstam argues that excessive conditioning of children to avoid sexuality results in changing children from “anarchic, ungendered blobs into gender automatons” (Halberstam 10). We make children into our own image. Where children are usually innocent and unbiased, our conditioning turns them into mindless gender-conscious sheep who are forced to follow officially sanctioned gender scripts. As a result, this “dangerous” and unnecessary conditioning forces children to follow scripts that are “not actually consistent with lived reality” (Halberstam 10). What is realistic is that there are genders and sexes outside

79 of just masculine and feminine, male and female, and children are attuned to that. So Halberstam suggests that our need to protect our children causes them more harm than good as it reinforces our biased gender and sex conceptions.

But adolescents found freedom to explore their various sexualities through the sexual revolution. In New York, “sexually ambiguous punk clubs” housed “horny drunk punk boys…aggressively dancing with one another” (Muñoz 111). It was not just a place for the youth to hide from gender and sex scripts but a space to act out their sexualities with each other in safety. Laura represents the female version of youth‟s open sex culture, rejecting what

Halberstam calls “the mechanism of restraint” that called for young girls to hide their sexuality and view sex as a sacred entity to be held onto until they marry (Halberstam 12, 13). This countercultural sexual behavior, invoked by Janet, frees Laura from the fear-inducing structure of “normative children‟s sexuality” (Halberstam 14). Janet, bringer of sexually revolutionizing ideals, helps Laura confront conservative fears of malicious sex ideals and awakens Laura‟s sexual identity. 2

Janet does acknowledge the trouble with her behavior, the “Whileawayan cross-age taboos,” while she mentally “undresses Laura” (Russ 64). The omniscient narrator warns Janet, pleading, “Don‟t, Janet. Don‟t, Janet. Don‟t exploit…what she was about to do was a serious crime…God will punish” (Russ 70, 73). The narrator reminds us of the predominant belief in society that sex with someone significantly younger (or underage) is a crime, a sin punishable by

God. Even though Laura becomes aware of her sexuality and consents, Janet still treads dangerous territory. Janet casts aside taboos from both her world and her current world to fulfill her yearning for pleasure. Some may argue that she exploits Laura for sexual satisfaction, so we

2 For more debates surrounding child sexuality, see works such as Kristin Luker's Dubious Conceptions: The Politics of Teenage Pregnancy; G. Stanley Hall's Adolescence: Its Relation to Physiology, Anthropology, Sociology, Sex, Crime, Religion, and Education; and James R. Kincaid's Child Loving: The Erotic Child and Victorian Culture.

80 must understand how Janet's sexual involvement could be extremely problematic in her efforts to rid Laura of her confining gender and sexuality binary. She continually refers to Laura as

“child,” solidifying the taboo and allowing readers to question her actions. Moreover, she herself reflects on their sexual actions—“some day soon you‟ll look at me and my skin will be dead and dry, and being more romantically inclined…you‟ll find me quite disgusting; but until then I‟ll do my best to conceal from you how very fond I am of you” (Russ 71, 72). Surprisingly enough, the utopian standard of free, progressive women who exercise sexual agency, and even dominate encounters is in flux when Janet‟s discussion of physical beauty surfaces. She is supposed to be the character that challenges the gender stereotypes and rewrite what it means to be a strong and beautiful woman. However, when we see this thought creep into the narration, we witness the effect that this socially constructed world has on Janet. Her inclusion in this world reveals how similar she is to other women in her concerns about social taboos and physical beauty.

But these controversies within the narrative do not cause Janet to falter. Even in reluctance she contradicts heteronormative institutions by redefining how to love. Janet thinks,

“There is also lust and I hope you understand me when I say I‟m about to die; and I think we should go to a safer place where we can die in comfort…because I don‟t want to be panting away on the rug when your parents walk in” (Russ 72). She is truly physically attracted to Laura and acts on it. They will “die” because their act of sexual passion contradicts the established order of their respective societies—Janet because she breaks the age taboo and Laura because she commits homoerotic acts. They are ostracized as soon as they reciprocate attraction for one another, so their status as normal, productive members of society is terminated. But this does not stop them from moving forward. Janet continues and finds “the little bump,” known as “The

Key” to Whileawayans, to make Laura “[tumble] off the cliff into orgasm (Russ 74). Janet and

Laura grow in the wake of climactic orgasm. They not only become more aware of their sexuality but also their respective societys‟ abhorrence of an open sex culture. Russ‟s dramatization of erotic sexual freedom emphasizes her push towards restructuring the sexuality scripts naturalized by society.

Jael

Alice Jael Reasoner, like Joanna and Jeannine, inhabits a world wherein individuals are expected to conform to either the male or female binary, with no room for individuality. Her reality is a dystopian war between Manland and Womanland. The Manlanders, as she terms them, barter for children from women, and these boys grow into men. However, some undergo

“sex-change surgery…at sixteen” because they do not quite fit the Manlander standard for male behavior. Two out of seven Manlander children fail at becoming men, but only one out of seven undergoes a full sex change. The one-seventh is full of “artists, illusionists, impressionists of femininity who keep their genitalia but who grow slim, grow languid, grow emotional and feminine” (Russ 167). Underneath “the veils of false hair and false eyelashes” lie “eyes and bone structure” of a size associated with men (Russ 167). The changed perform femininity, both in terms of gender and of sex. They alter their biology to become women or alter their physical appearance to be perceived as women. The fully changed fit into femininity so well that they are found in “harims and whore-homes” and are referred to as “cunts” when crossing the paths of unruly individuals. The half-changed are seen as “weak and can‟t protect themselves” (Russ

172). These individuals have transformed themselves so much that they are no longer part of a minoritarian crowd that does not fit into a binary—they are now lumped together with women because they perform the norm. Jael comments, “what do you think femininity is all about?”

(Russ 172). Biologically born women, the fully changed, and half-changed all fall under the

82 female binary because they all practice feminine gender and sex norms. Because the fully changed and half-changed cannot create their own identities within Manlander society, they must follow the dominant gender script and evolve according to what their culture deems appropriate.

At first, Jael herself performs traditional gender norms. As she tries to sneak the three other J‟s across the Manlander border, she encounters the Boss-Man. In order to cross without trouble, Jael “[puts] on [her] doubtful, slightly shamed, sly, well-you-know, all-purpose look”

(Russ 175). She listens as the Boss-Man tells her how the war should end. He degrades women, noting the process would “be slow” because “most women aren‟t used to thinking a thing through like this” (Russ178). Jael must perform femininity in order to pass by the Boss-Man, to convince him that she genuinely wants both men and women to reconcile. She must have an “all- purpose” look of a woman, feel shame for her sex, and not “get feminine” on him as he reveals the alleged truth about women and their inability to handle intellectual situations (Russ 178).

But Jael is not a normal woman; her body is fused with technological alterations to enable her to defend herself against any threat. Donna Haraway's "Cyborg Manifesto" helps us understand how the intersection of human and technology is beneficial in re-appropriating gender and sex identities. Haraway uses cyborgs as a metaphor for variability in the social construction of identity. Physically, a cyborg is a "cybernetic organism" often containing both organic and inorganic parts. However, it is also a cultural apparatus. Haraway passionately argues that the cyborg aids in our "political construction" of the world--it impacts our social realities by taking part in "lived social relations" just like any organic being (429). In this,

Haraway sees the cyborg as an entity which reconstructs consciousness in ways which liberate individuals from strict social norms that usually dictate construction of identity. The cyborg is "a fiction mapping our social and bodily reality and as an imaginative resource" as it challenges

83 notions of our social consciousness with fluid gender and sex markers, which, in turn, creates apprehension when we try to define its characteristics (Haraway 429). Because cyborgs cannot be defined, they confuse individuals trying to make sense of them. If no social characteristics can be attributed to a cyborg, then it cannot be properly identified. We see this inability to define characters in both Herland and The Female Man. Van and his friends cannot properly describe

Herlanders because they do not follow the men's knowledge on the construction of femininity.

Moreover, the J's (especially Jeannine) cower at Jael's cyborg revelation as they are unable to process her revolutionary form. Haraway aptly states, "The cyborg is a creature in a post-gender world; it has no truck with bisexuality, pre-oedipal symbiosis, unalienated labour, or other seductions to organic wholeness through final appropriation of all the powers of the parts into a higher unity" (430). Cyborgs defy social laws because they do not fit within the laws. They are outside of the gender and sex scripts we understand so well.

Cyborgs serve as a metaphor to challenge gender and sex scripts mainly because they blur the line between human and machine. As technology advances, ambiguity arises between

"natural and artificial, mind and body, self-developing and externally designed" (Haraway 431).

This ambiguity has become a point of distress for individuals--machines are more "lively" while the humans are "inert" (Haraway 431). We as organic beings are not evolving with our technology; we are stagnant as machines replace us. But cyborgs represent an evolutionary standard which fuses human and technology and eliminates dichotomies that rule our lives.

Haraway states, "The cyborg is a kind of disassembled and reassembled, postmodern collective and personal self" (434). By combining organic and inorganic elements, cyborgs disassemble what we know as human, thus stripping characteristics and social practices that usually dictate human behavior. And in its place, the cyborg reassembles an evolved identity to create a post-

84 modern self, or one that lives beyond strictures of gender and sex scripts. In a way, cyborgs fulfill the physical component of Gilman's work in Social Darwinism. While women like Gilman promoted a more social evolution of humans, cyborgs allow fictional physical evolutions to metaphorically resemble women's ability to redefine their gender and sex scripts in more beneficial ways.

Cyborgs allow women to redefine their roles in society by disrupting ideological boundaries with physical manipulation. There are countless roles for women in society--inside and outside of the home, marketplace, the body, etc.--so changing the physical to something that is not recognized by ideology disrupts categorization (Haraway 434). Thus, counterculture groups (such as feminists) find opportunity in cyborgs to free themselves from the crushing power of their respective societies. We see science fiction authors utilize cyborgs to subvert dichotomies, whether they are man and woman, public and private, etc. (Haraway 443). Russ uses Jael to blur conceptions between human and machine, making the fierce cyborg warrior an example of fluid gender and sex organisms described by Haraway. In her dystopian world, Jael must modify herself in order to survive. But these modifications help free her from societal conceptions that define her.

Similarly, Herlanders redefine themselves outside of traditional gender norms similar to

Jael and other cyborgs. Herlanders become economic entities similar to Haraway‟s conception of the cyborg. Haraway argues that cyborgs represent the accumulative knowledge of biological and communication sciences and advancement of these sciences to redefine what it means to be human and what norms dictate the definitive properties of human. So, considering that businesses rely on the advancement of biological and communicative sciences in order to thrive in a growing and progressive economy, companies must look to cyborgs for the answer—

Biology as a powerful engineering science for redesigning materials and processes has

revolutionary implications for industry…Communications sciences and biology are

constructions of natural-technical objects of knowledge in which the difference between

machine and organism is thoroughly blurred; mind, body, and tool are on very intimate

terms. The 'multinational' material organization of the production and reproduction of

daily life and the symbolic organization of the production and reproduction of culture and

imagination seem equally implicated. (Haraway 435)

While cyborgs at present only serve as a metaphor, the technology used to create them is the same technology used to produce products we use throughout our daily lives (also those which allow businesses to maintain profits). Consequently, cyborgs illustrate how these technologies also affect us on a biological level through its organic and technological composition. Since a cyborg is neither wholly human nor machine, it blurs the boundaries between these binaries.

Mind and body become one with machine. So, cyborgs lead to humanity becoming an economic entity; humans receive biological alterations from the same materials industries use and, while using these similar technologies, create ambiguity about what it means to be human. Herlanders are constructed in the same way. Their technologies become an extension of themselves as they cultivate a perfect society through parthenogenesis. Just as Jael‟s claws and fangs become a part of her, science fiction readers note how Gilman‟s Herlanders anticipate the development of the economic cyborg.

Jael‟s bodily modifications redefine our views on femininity and female bodies. Just as the Boss-Man tries to rape Jael, she tears into him with her hidden claws and metal fangs. She

“[digs] the hardened cuticle into his neck…reache[s] around and score[s] him under the ear, letting him spray urgently into the rug…Boss is pumping his life out into the carpet” (Russ 182).

Jael‟s cyborg body is equipped with the weapons to fight literally tooth and nail. She tears apart the naturalized norm of femininity and becomes a pugilistic woman of the future. These additions to her body are not classified as feminine or female, so Jael physically redefines herself outside of the binary. However, she is not completely free from the critics of her society. She realizes that people will blame the murder on “Her Menstrual Period” or “raging hormonal imbalances” (Russ 183). For the present, Jael‟s physical makeup and actions allow her to shift away from typical feminine behavior and take back control of her gender and sex classification.

She does not care if she is called “the Crazy Womb, the Ball-breaking Bitch, [or] the Fanged

Killer Lady” (Russ 184). Jael is Russ‟s way of telling women to tear apart these binaries and develop the agency to define what gender and sex means to each individual. Her metal fangs and claws are symbolic tools to break apart this patriarchal society. So, Jael‟s actions help to separate sexuality from current gender and sex scripts. If women gain their own metal teeth and claws, they may be able to delineate a space for themselves within gender and sex.

Jael‟s cyborg status causes some discontent among scholars. Susana Martins argues that

Jael‟s modifications marginalize her because she combines with technology to become something ferocious to protect herself from the „natural‟ right of men to dominate women. To

Martin, it is “drastic measures” that Jael turns to in order to disrupt the patriarchal nature of her society (Martin 411). But I want to suggest that, at least in our reality, this modification is more metaphoric of a mentality than to be read as a physical change. Jael‟s modifications can be read as symbolizing the need to change ideas rather than physically alter the body. They reinforce the notion that women must stand up against patriarchal powers and disrupt them by any means necessary. Jael‟s modifications help free her rather than have her suffer at the hands of the Boss-

Man. It is these “drastic measures” that allow her to challenge gender and sex meanings within the established power structures.

Similarly, Jael‟s sex robot illustrates her reversal of gender roles in sex culture. Her abode is controlled by a central computer and contains a “lovely limb” known as Davy (Russ

199). Davy is a blond-haired, blue eyed “mesomorphic monster-pet” controlled by the central computer in Jael‟s home (Russ 197). Jael is cryptic about his origin—“„lobotomized. Kidnapped in childhood? Do you believe me? ...Don‟t‟” (Russ 199). But what we know for sure is that Davy is controlled by an implant in his brain and “eats, eliminates, sleeps and climbs in and out of his exercise box.” If Jael wants Davy to sleep, “Davy will sleep” (Russ 199). Davy defines the male sexual binary that dictates idealized physical images of man—he has male genitals nestled in his pubic hair “like a rosebud,” muscular strength and an erection when stimulated by Jael‟s feminine touches (Russ 196). However, he has no agency of his own. He only responds to Jael, going on about his life fulfilling her wishes and the bare necessities to stay alive. While he exhibits the physical features of a man, Jael prevents him from imitating the social construction of masculinity and creates an identity for him similar to dildo or cipher.

Furthermore, Jael exploits Davy for her own sexual satisfaction. After her escapade with the Boss-Man, Jael returns home and straddles Davy, “kneading” his body so that “Little

Davy…fill[s] out.” Jael caresses him and treats Davy like a beautiful, sacred object. He is her

“monster-pet,” a mere extension of the house that she controls but treats like a sacred artifact.

Finally, Jael “[tantalizes] him, then swallowed him whole like a watermelon seed…with Davy moaning, his tongue inside my mouth, his blue gaze shattered, his whole body uncontrollably arched, all his sensation concentrated in the place where I held him” (Russ 197). Jael completely controls this passionate, sexual moment. She is the one who engages the sexual activity, waking

Davy‟s slumbering mind without even waiting for his consent. Jael “had him. Davy was [hers]”

(Russ 198).She decides when to use Davy, when to provoke his sexuality, when he can enter her, when he can orgasm and how. She prolongs his sexual satisfaction so she can enjoy her own.

Instead of becoming an object of sexual attraction, Jael contradicts the naturalized norm with her own familiar language surrounding her relationship with Davy. “Little Davy” becomes her plaything in a world usually dominated by male sexual urges. Davy's dehumanization reminds us of second wave feminists' struggles to assert women's importance in society and even assert women's higher standing than men. The second wave smacks of establishing women's dominance in society, just as Jael dominates Davy. Russ intentionally dehumanizes men as an illustrative role reversal when Jael becomes a female man in sexual activity.

Before Jael‟s empowering cyborg scene, she reveals the biological closeness between the women—“Genetic patterns sometimes repeat themselves from possible present universe to possible present universe...there is repetition of genotypes in the far future too, sometimes...we are less alike than identical twins...but much more alike than strangers have any right to be”

(Russ 161). If anyone continues to have any doubt about the connection between the four women, Jael discloses to Janet the truth behind her precious utopia. Jael‟s world became

Whileaway after all the men died—“that „plague‟ you talk of is a lie…the world-lines around you are not so different from yours or mine or theirs…I and the war I fought built your world for you” (Russ 211). In Russ‟s novel, we see the plights of these collective women. Imprisoned by the gender and sex binaries that define them, the J‟s represent all women. While they have the exact same genetic structure, they suffer in different ways, under different systems of patriarchy.

Russ‟s novel, with its unique narrative structure and focus on four individual but close women, resurrects the open sex culture Muñoz yearns for in his theoretical work. The J‟s represent a

89 range of challenges to established gender and sex scripts, suggesting ways to reignite the curtailed sexual revolution and leave a lasting impression on today‟s minoritarian society.

Cyborg Identity to the Extreme: Blurring the Conception of Gender and Sex

Donna Haraway's profound work with cyborgs and gender and sexuality has paved the way for countless science fiction authors to utilize technology as a means to free individuals from restrictive norms, as well as being influenced by these very same science fiction authors in her analysis of cyborgs. One cannot deny the awesome power of a half-human, half-machine hybrid bringing down hegemonic patriarchal dominance that defines our current society. But there are troubling implications with cyborgs that Marge Piercy anticipates in her novel. Her cyborg characters test the waters of gender and sexuality and ultimately illustrate their insignificance, but they must learn these scripts before they can determine their usefulness.

As He, She, and It brings us into the end of the twentieth century, gender and sex scripts are complicated even more when faced with the gender fluid character of Yod. Yod is manufactured completely from biological and mechanical circuitry and resembles a human male.

Summoned by Dr. Avram Stein, a scientist in Tikva and longtime friend of Shira's family, Shira accepts a job to help him in his laboratory. Little does she know that this job entails socializing

Yod so he can blend in with the rest of the population. Shira is amazed at Yod's construction to the point that she does not know how to interact with him. She touches him to feel the authenticity of his skin, which startles him. Shira struggles to remind herself that Yod is a machine, not a human: "It made her feel as if she were being rude, but that was absurd. You did not ask permission of a computer to log on; computers did not flinch when you touched them"

(Piercy 69). Shira's interaction with Yod establishes her bias and confusion. She has to remind herself of the differences between humans and machines as Yod exhibits characteristics of both

90 identities. Yod's status of a cyborg presents Shira with a challenge to identity conception. She cannot quite attribute human characteristics to him, which would in turn formulate his social identity. But she also cannot fathom how a machine can be so organic.

Yod's discussion of his anatomy illustrates Haraway's point about cyborgs causing ambiguity in gender and sex identities. While Yod is both organic and inorganic, he designates himself as anatomically male. He tells Avram, "'I believe we should explain to [Shira] that referring to me as 'him' is correct. I am not a robot...one of us should also explain that I am anatomically male, as you created me'" (Piercy 71). There are many interesting issues occurring in this single statement. One is that Yod claims personhood. He claims a self. He is not an "it"', or an object that is owned. He is "him," an autonomous individual who makes decisions for himself. In this, we see the development of Haraway's idea of self in cyborgs--while he is not completely human, Yod creates a new self who is not restricted by regular societal conceptions.

Moreover, he claims a specific biological identity, placing himself more firmly in the category of human. Piercy fuses animal and machine to create a new being who asserts itself in a world corrupted by gender and sex scripts. True, Yod does commit to gender and sex scripts when he claims that he is male, but he defies the categorization of machine and places himself firmly within society's populace.

Shira's contemplation of Yod's gender and sex illustrates how feeble gender and sex scripts truly are. She questions why Avram would make him a male and what this entailed:

“what did it mean to speak of a machine as having a sex at all? Surely it did not urinate through its penis, and what would it want to have sex with, presuming a machine could want, which she was not about to assume” (Piercy 71). Similar to when she interacted with Yod, Shira cannot understand why Avram assigned a sex to a machine that cannot desire as a human can. He is an

91 enigma—Yod does not fit into her standards of the male sex. He may have genitalia that designate him as male, but she cannot think of a machine as harboring a human identity. Shira does not consider Yod a conscious, decision making being. But, as we know, Yod was given consciousness and the power to make decisions for himself. So, he can determine how he will be defined as an individual. Presently, we can see how Yod compares to Jael‟s categorization as a cyborg. Like Jael, he defies traditional standards because he is not completely human. Yes, he has organic parts, but he does not fulfill our traditional conceptions of male, even though he considers himself a man. He redefines traditional gender and sex scripts because he is considered an other.

Some scholars view Yod‟s human qualities as representative of the dangers of the blurring of the line between human and technology. In his chapter on He, She, and It, William S.

Haney II reminds readers to think of Yod as a “„conscious‟ weapon” (Haney 149). According to

Haney, the novel “represents the ultimate outcome of the post-human tendency for humans to evolve toward becoming radical cyborgs,” which in turn leads to confusion between the unconscious computer and the conscious human being (Haney 150).Machines respond to the environment according to their programming. And, as Haney sees it, Yod is no exception to this fact. He may sexually stimulate Shira and foster an intimate connection with her, but he was programmed to do so. He is not acting consciously but rather carrying out tasks in which Malkah initiated in his hardwiring (Haney 151). Despite his astute observation, Haney‟s cut-and-dried discussion misses the point. Machines are unconscious beings which act according to the characteristics attributed to their programming. But, similar to the discussion surrounding Jael‟s sexual manipulation of Davy, we must view his actions as metaphorical of a mentality. Yod‟s characterization should initiate conversations surrounding our gender and sex scripts and

92 whether they confine us or not. While Yod defines himself as male, he still breaks gender boundaries in his interactions with Shira and others around him.

However, I want to call attention to Haney‟s discussion of Yod‟s ambivalent programming. When Yod defends Shira from attacking pirates, he relates his defense to the pleasure of sexual interaction: “Killing them was as enjoyable as anything I‟ve ever experienced.

I think I must be programmed to find killing as intense as sexual pleasure” (Piercy 106). Avram infused Yod with the pleasure of defense; it is Yod‟s job to defend the people of Tikva, so he is rewarded with intense pleasure when he does. On the other hand, Malkah programmed Yod to also perform sexually and receive a similar pleasure from doing such. Haney sees this as creating conflict in Yod‟s programming. The “uncertainty and ambivalence” derived from opposing activities puts him at odds with the purpose behind his creation (Haney 154). While I agree that this scene represents an ambiguity in Yod‟s identity, I also want to comment on the larger purpose of Haney‟s commentary. The incorporation of programming from both Avram and

Malkah represents a contention between traditional gender and sex scripts and those performances which challenge the scripts. Avram wants Yod to act according to traditional computer programming—fulfill a task and then move on to another. However, Malkah‟s programming represents a more humanistic side, something similar to an effeminate representation of the cyborg. Consequently, we see Yod questioning his identity just as the

Herlanders and the Js have done. Yod represents the evolution of gender and sex performances where clear lines between traditional and nontraditional are blurred. He becomes a metaphor for the time after the open sex culture when individuals once again confront norms which constrain them.

Even though Yod is programmed to also perform sexually, his sexuality lacks judgment and is not controlled by traditional norms. Yod does not discriminate based on age or beauty; he has had sex with Malkah and also does so with Shira with little thought. Moreover, he does not act or feel like a man, according to patriarchal gender norms. Men are supposed to have rougher skin, but Shira notes how his skin is “sleek as a woman‟s” (Piercy 168). He also puts all his energy into pleasing Shira: “he concentrated on her with a total intensity that in itself was absolutely exciting. It was not passion as she had known it in men: it was a passionately intense attention” (Piercy 169). Yod focuses completely on pleasuring Shira. He does not do just what he feels like doing or concentrate his own pleasure. Yet, Yod bonds in the experience of being with

Shira, of getting to know her and what she likes as a sexual being. Shira can also allow herself to find her “own identity and erotic power,” as she does not have to concern herself with fulfilling

Yod‟s wishes or conforming to heteronormative acts of sex (Sautter 258-259). Yod, different from patriarchal standards, treats sex as an opportunity to bond emotionally with Shira instead of just reciprocating physical pleasure. Yes, Yod may be programmed to act as such, but he shows that sex does not have to be dangerous or morally corrupt. Sex does not have to be about one partner controlling the other—it can be a mutually benefitting activity and women can be seen as sexual beings.

Yod further confronts heteronormative relationships with his biological inability to bear children. Yod urges Shira to let him pleasure her, “We can‟t get married or have children or run off together. All I can bring you are brain and body during the times I am not required elsewhere” (Piercy 168). There is a hint of regret in Yod‟s dialogue. Yod may wish he could be with Shira as a human male could be with her—marriage, children, and so on—but he settles on providing her with sexual pleasure and being close to her in that way. But Yod‟s inability to

94 perform heteronormativity suggests a couple of things. The first way we can analyze this is that

Yod shows us that sexuality does not have to be based on heteronormative goals. Men and women do not have to strive for partners in order to become economically efficient and to procreate. They do not have to establish themselves within gender and sex norms already dictated by society. Moreover, we can also see Shira‟s engagement in sex with Yod as reaffirming this questioning of the role of sexuality. Shira already crosses boundaries when she copulates with a gender-ambiguous machine. But her taking part in a non-procreative form of sex illustrates for us that women, as well as men, can participate in sexual activity and not be restricted by patriarchal ideas surrounding sexuality.

Conclusion

The women represented in Gilman's, Russ's, and Piercy's novels are not always successful when they challenge the officially sanctioned gender and sex norms of their respective societies. Herlanders work towards their perfect, eugenics-based society through the incorporation of gender ambiguity and parthenogenesis, which elevates the women to the level of

Gilman's self-sufficient new being. However, the men infect the society and it is implied that massive changes will occur in Herlander culture because the men enforce their patriarchal identities on the women. Gilman's utopia is ominous at best; the society is still intact but must deal with the fallout from Terry's attempted rape of Alima and Jeff's impregnation of Celis.

Gilman's novel hints at the potentiality of utopia rather than the definitive establishment of utopia. Gilman knows a utopian existence for women cannot yet be achieved. But she provides a hope for it, as well as avenues to consider in order to achieve this utopia.

Russ's reconfiguration of gender and sex, while more revolutionary and extreme, still does not manifest itself into a successful utopian vision. Of course we can consider Whileaway a prosperous utopia with its incorporation of advanced technology as well as pursuance of homosexuality, which rejects heteronormative behavior that restricts sexuality to man and a woman and men's complete control over accessibility of technology. But how are we supposed to understand Jael's world in terms of utopia? Jael is a cyborg fighting towards utopia. She does not achieve the utopian dream, but her successors do in Whileaway. Russ is clever in her text--she writes during a time when individuals challenged constricted gender and sex norms and her female warriors consistently rewrite their gender and sex identities.

The closest we get to Muñoz's utopian vision of coexisting cultures is through Piercy's

Tikva. The Jewish free-town rejects the Y-S influence on their culture, even when they are

96 attacked by the corporation's hired assassins. But they live freely and define themselves as they want--Shira develops an intimate and sexual relationship with a cyborg who does not fit traditional masculine standards. Moreover, Nili, like Herlanders, represents this new intersection between human and technology which also rejects gender and sex norms normally attributed to women.

But what do we make of the fact that utopia has not yet been achieved by women? Even

Piercy's novel shows us that women still are not completely free from the gender and sex scripts confining them. Tikva does represent some safe haven from patriarchal domination, but it is only

Tikva, not the rest of the world. What answers can we find if these fictional societies cannot even achieve the utopia for which Muñoz and others yearn?

As I have argued before, it is the fantastical elements of science fiction which allow us to imagine worlds other than our own. And it is through science fiction that we can present these alternate societies where individuals can escape the gender and sex norms that bind them. We may not achieve a total reformation of our gender and sex identities, but we can come close.

Science fiction allows us to imaginatively recreate ourselves so we no longer feel like outsiders because we do not fit in with the crowd. Authors let their characters lead unconventional lives to show readers that utopias, while now only a potentiality, can someday be achieved.

Maybe our society is not quite ready for a utopia. Maybe people would not feel comfortable living outside of conventional gender and sex norms because that would make it more difficult for us to efficiently define one another. Identity is crucial to our existence; if we cannot form an identity, then who are we? What is the purpose of existing? But feminist science fiction authors have shown us that we can still have an identity--it just might not be easily definable. Rather, we may inhabit an ambiguous sphere of gender and sex where masculine and

97 feminine do not matter. What would only matter is our ability to coexist happily and fully explore ourselves as living, breathing, and feeling humans. Gilman, Russ, and Piercy explore the possibility for various different genders and sexes to coexist peacefully in one utopian society.

Their characters illustrate for science fiction readers that individuals can perform identities outside of traditional gender and sex norms. Women do not need to be defined from birth--they can overcome social and biological obstacles in order to fully develop themselves.

Bibliography

Abrams, Lynn. The Making of Modern Woman. Pearson Education Limited, 2002. Print.

Adams, Alice E. Reproducing the Womb: Images of Childbirth in Science, Feminist Theory, and Literature. Cornell University Press, 1994. Print.

Allyn, David. Make Love, Not War--the Sexual Revolution: An Unfettered History. Little, Brown and Company, 2000. Print.

Atterbery, Brian. Decoding Gender in Science Fiction. New York: Routledge, 2002. Print.

Ayres, Susan. “The „Straight Mind‟ in Russ‟s „The Female Man‟.” Science Fiction Studies 22.1 (1995): 22-34. Print.

Balsamo, Anne. Technologies of the Gendered Body: Reading Cyborg Women. Duke University Press, 1996. Print.

Barbour, Douglas. “Joanna Russ‟s The Female Man: An Appreciation.” The Sphinx.4.1 (1981): 67-75. Print.

Boulter, Amanda. “Unnatural Acts: American Feminism and Joanna Russ‟s The Female Man.” Women: A Cultural Review 10.2 (1999): 151-166. Print.

Butler, Judith. Bodies That Matter: On the Discursive Limits of “Sex.” New York: Routledge, 1993. Print.

Butler, Judith. Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity. New York: Routledge, 1999. Print.

Butler, Judith. Undoing Gender. New York: Routledge, 2004. Print.

Ceplair, Larry. "The Book-Writing Years (1898-1909)." Charlotte Perkins Gilman: A Nonfiction Reader. Ed. Larry Ceplair. Columbia University Press, 1991.88-93. Print.

Daemmrich, Ingrid. “„Do Not Reach Up from Readers‟ Laps and Punch the Readers Noses‟: Joanna Russ‟s Provocative Message in Her Ending to THE FEMALE MAN.” Heldref Publications (2009): 142-146. Print.

Delany, Samuel R. Times Square Red, Times Square Blue. New York University Press, 1999. Print.

Dicker, Rory. History of U.S. Feminisms. Seal Press, 2008. Print.

Donaldson, Laura E. "The eve of de-struction: Charlotte Perkins Gilman and the feminist re- creation of paradise." Women's Studies 16 (1989): 373-387. Print.

Donawerth, Jane. Frankenstein‟s Daughters: Women Writing Science Fiction. Syracuse University Press, 1997. Print.

Duggan, Lisa and Nan D Hunter. Sex Wars: Sexual Dissent and Political Culture. New York: Routledge, 2006. Print.

Echols, Alice. Daring to Be BAD: Radical Feminism in America 1967-1975. University of Minnesota Press, 1989. Print.

Ferns, Chris. “Rewriting Male Myths: Herland and the Utopia Tradition.”A Very Different Story: Studies on the Fiction of Charlotte Perkins Gilman. Ed. Val Gough and Jill Rudd. Liverpool University Press, 1998.24-37. Print.

Fusco, Katherine. “Systems, Not Men: Producing People in Charlotte Perkins Gilman‟s Herland.” Studies in the Novel 41.4 (2009): 418-434. Print.

Gilman, Charlotte Perkins. Herland: A Lost Feminist Utopian Novel. New York: Pantheon Books, 1979. Print.

Gilman, Charlotte Perkins. “Women and Economics: A Study of the Economic Relation Between Men and Women as a Factor in Social Evolution.” Charlotte Perkins Gilman: A Nonfiction Reader. Ed. Larry Ceplair. New York: Columbia University Press, 1991. Print.

Graham, Elaine L. Representations of the post/human: Monsters, Aliens, and Others in Popular Culture. Manchester University Press, 2002. Print.

Grant, Linda. Sexing the Millennium: Women and the Sexual Revolution. New York: Grove Press, 1994. Print.

Halberstam, J. Jack. Gaga Feminism: Sex, Gender, and the End of Normal. Boston: Beacon Press, 2012. Print.

Halberstam, Judith. Female Masculinity. Duke University Press, 1998. Print.

Haney II, William S. Cyberculture, Cyborgs and Science Fiction: Consciousness and the Posthuman. New York: Rodopi, 2006. Print.

Haraway, Donna. "A Cyborg Manifesto: Science, Technology, and Socialist-Feminism in the Late Twentieth Century." Philosophy of Technology: The Technological Condition. Eds. Robert C. Scharff and Val Dusek. Blackwell, 2003. Print.

Hausman, Bernice L. “Sex Before Gender: Charlotte Perkins Gilman and the Evolutionary Paradigm of Utopia.” Feminist Studies 24.3 (1998): 489-510. Print.

100

Hawkins, Nick. Social Darwinism in European and American Thought, 1860-1945. Cambridge University Press, 1997. Print

Hicks, Heather J. “Automating Feminism: The Case of Joanna Russ‟s The Female Man.” Postmodern Culture 9.3 (1999): 47-75. Print.

Hofstadter, Richard. Social Darwinism in American Thought. Beacon Press, 1955. Print.

Hudak, Jennifer. “The „Social Inventor‟: Charlotte Perkins Gilman and the (Re) Production of Perfection.”Women‟s Studies 32 (2003): 455-477. Print.

Johnson-Bogart, Kim. “The Utopian Imagination of Charlotte Perkins Gilman: Reconstruction of Meaning in „Herland.‟” Pacific Coast Philology 27.1/2 (1992): 85-92. Print.

Kessler, Carol Farley. “Consider Her Ways: The Cultural Work of Charlotte Perkins Gilman‟s Pragmatopian Stories, 1908-1913.” Utopian and Science Fiction By Women: Worlds of Difference. Ed. Jane L. Donawerth and Carol A. Kolmerten. New York: Syracuse University Press, 1994. Print.

Lant, Kathleen Margaret. "The Rape of the Text: Charlotte Gilman's Violation of Herland." Tulsa Studies in Women's Literature 9.2 (1990): 291-308. Print.

Martins, Susana S. “Revising the Future in „The Female Man‟.” Science Fiction Studies 32.3 (2005): 405-422. Print.

Martinson, Anna M. “Ecofeminist Perspectives on Technology in the Science Fiction of Marge Piercy.” Extrapolation 44.1 (2003): 50-68. Print.

Mellor, Anne K. “On Feminist Utopias.” Women‟s Studies 9 (1982): 241-262. Print.

Morehouse, Barbara J. "Geographies of Power and Social Relations in Marge Piercy's He, She, and It." Lost in Space: Geographies of Science Fiction. Eds. Rob Kitchin and James Kneale. New York: Continuum, 2002. Print.

Moylan, Tom. Scraps of the Untainted Sky: Science Fiction, Utopia, Dystopia. Westview Press, 2000. Print.

Muñoz, José Esteban. Cruising Utopia: The Then and There of Queer Futurity. New York University Press, 2009. Print.

“Parthenogenesis.”Oxford English Dictionary. Oxford University Press, 2014.Web. 28 Apr. 2014.

Piercy, Marge. He, She, and It. Fawcett Books, 1991. Print.

101

Roberts, Robin. A New Species: Gender and Science in Science Fiction. University of Illinois Press, 1993. Print.

Russ, Joanna. The Female Man. New York: Bantam Books, Inc., 1978. Print.

Sautter, Dianne. “Erotic and Existential Paradoxes of the Golem: Marge Piercy‟s He, She, and It.” Journal of the Fantastic in the Arts 7.2-3 (1996): 255-274. Print.

Seitler, Dana. "Unnatural Selection: Mothers, Eugenic Feminism, and Charlotte Perkins Gilman's Regeneration Narratives." American Quarterly 55.1 (2003): 61-88. Print.

Shaw, Debra Benita. Women, Science and Fiction: The Frankenstein Inheritance. Palgrave, 2000. Print.

Spector, Judith. “The Functions of Sexuality in the Science Fiction of Russ, Piercy, and Le Guin.”Erotic Universe: Sexuality and Fantastic Literature. Ed. Donald Palumbo. Praeger, 1986. Print

Yaszek, Lisa. Galactic Suburbia: Recovering Women‟s Science Fiction. The Ohio State University, 2008. Print.