1 chapter 4 congratulations - it's a boy! Birth is the primary numinous event. It is our major metaphor for life and coming into being. We talk about birth of the universe, the birth of galaxies. It is how the world came into being. It is the first act of magic — and physical testament to the continuity of human and all life.1 A short film shown at a festival in Sydney in 1995 begins with an image of an imposing Catholic church. The dark chords of heavy organ music overlay the images and serve to intensify the religiosity of the scene. The genre of tragedy is indicated. An Italian woman, dressed in black and wearing a head scarf, enters slowly by the central aisle, lights a candle, crosses herself, and bows her head and solemnly prays. Above and around her are numerous familiar icons and statuary: crucifixes, stained glass, a haloed Jesus and a dolorous Mary. She looks up at the melancholy Madonna and entreats: 'Mother, why are you always so sad?' Tears flow surreally from the moulded eyes, there is a pause and the statue speaks. It declares: 'Because, my child, I wanted a daughter'.2 Icon, directed by Di Cousens, although only one minute in length, was both startling and humorous because of the novelty of its concept which subverted the most fundamental level of Christian doctrine. As well, it challenged and therefore undermined the preference for a male child which had been a part of most cultures for centuries. The birth of a child is a momentous occasion, described by Judith Lumley and Jill Astbury in their Australian study on the subject, as: 'that most creative and joyous of events.'3 Birth marked the crucial moment of woman's transition to becoming a mother according to British sociologist Ann Oakley.4 She maintained that 'birth is an event with 1Arisika Razak, 'Toward a Womanist Analysis of Birth' in I. Diamond & G.F. Orenstein, (eds), Reweaving the World: The Emergence of Ecofeminism, Sierra Club Books, San Francisco, 1990, p. 168. 2Icon was directed by Di Cousens. It formed part of video collection 'Visions of Women' presented at the Women on Women Film Festival, May 27-28 1995, Valhalla Cinema, Sydney. 3Judith Lumley & Jill Astbury, Birth Rites Birth Rights: Childbirth Alternatives for Australian Parents, Sphere Books, West Melbourne, 1980, p. 126. 4Ann Oakley, Becoming a Mother, Martin Robertson, Oxford, 1979, p. 59. 2 great psychological, emotional and social meaning'.5 Similarly, Arisika Razak considered birth 'an event of incredible human significance' with a 'profound spiritual, psychological, and emotional importance'.6 These writings indicate that the moment of a child's birth is extraordinarily powerful. From them we can gather that all the connotations surrounding the event are salient in understanding the issues of motherhood. Because the birth of a child is so important to the family, films frequently used the event for the beginning or the conclusion of a story. In 1992, the cinema review journal, The Velvet Light Trap, devoted an entire issue to the phenomenon of birth in films. In it, Lori Shorr discussed the cinematic construction of the maternal body in childbirth. She analysed educational videos of birth and was critical of the paternal presence which appropriated the mother's part in the labour and delivery process.7 Robin Blaetz, in the same journal, examined films for the sounds of childbirth, and astutely observed that 'birth has traditionally been shown in terms of its effect on a male listener'.8 Other articles in the journal considered surrogacy, abortion and working mothers in films. While these offered useful insights into research into motherhood in the cinema, they paid curiously little attention to the difference the sex of the child made to the narrative. This aspect was also ignored by Lucy Fischer in her study of birth in Roman Polanski's film, Rosemary's Baby. In a long, detailed and exemplary reading of the film, the issue of the child's sex was not considered.9 The difference the delivery of a female or male baby made for the mother in films has not been fully analysed. This has been a significant omission. 5Ann Oakley, Women Confined. Towards a Sociology of Childbirth, Martin Robertson, Oxford, 1980, p. 121. 6Razak, 'Toward a Womanist Analysis of Birth', p. 168. 7Lori Shorr, 'Performing Birth: The construction of female bodies in instructional childbirth videos', The Velvet Light Trap: Review of Cinema, number 29, Spring 1992, pp. 3-14. 8Robin Blaetz, 'In Search of the Mother Tongue: Childbirth and the cinema', The Velvet Light Trap: Review of Cinema, number 29, Spring 1992, p. 17. 9Lucy Fischer, Cinematernity: Film, Motherhood, Genre, Princeton University Press, NJ, 1996, pp. 73- 91. 3 This chapter investigates the different meanings attached to birth in films and in particular demonstrates the difference that the child's sex makes in the life of the mother. The aim is to understand whether the context and the reception of the cinematic birth work to reinforce beliefs about the superiority of the male in society. It would be no surprise to find that the exuberance which traditionally greets the arrival of a boy child has been replicated on screen. The acceptance, even expectation, of the preference, raises the question of how the context of the films might have reinforced it. In other words, were narratives organised to support these particular notions? Was the mother of a male child rewarded by appearing to be a more significant figure? What happened to the woman if she delivered a girl baby rather than a boy? These questions can be answered quite simply by an examination of the trajectory of the narrative. There were thirty-six births in Australian feature films from 1900 to 1988. Of these, twenty-one, or fifty-eight per cent were male. In a patriarchal society, perhaps, it was not surprising that male births predominated in films. It was the context surrounding the birth, however, that was most interesting in understanding how popular images might reflect the preference for a male child which had been a part of most cultures for centuries. This chapter argues that the sex of the child is an important predictor of narrative outcome. Within the films selected, there is a tendency to reward the mother of a son, and to consider the mother of a daughter as less meritorious. That this trend is routine and normalised to a degree that it becomes almost imperceptible, suggests that it reflects a set of beliefs that are both firmly entrenched and unquestioned in the society. The analysis is arranged in four sections. The first part examines the expectations surrounding the birth. It concentrates on the preferences stated by the parents for a daughter or son, and uses historical, social and psychoanalytical research to understand the position taken in several typical films. The second part considers the events after the birth, particularly in relation to changes the new baby brings to the life of the mother. The punishment and rewards that are attached to female and male births are assessed in 4 this section of the study. The special circumstances of births to unmarried women are analysed within this context, to identify any differences that female or male births have on the mother's future wellbeing. The third section describes those films in which the birth of a son is used to provide credibility or power in the development of the narrative. These are contrasted with the films in which the birth of a daughter is trivialised by its link to humorous situations. Expectations: The preference for a son My readings of the films concentrate on birth and gender, despite this not necessarily being the primary concern of the filmmakers at the time. The incorporation of births into films and the decisions regarding the sex of the infants are, perhaps, part of a normative process, largely unquestioned by the filmmakers and audiences. As historian, Gerda Lerner, observed, 'Patriarchal concepts are…built into all mental constructs of…civilisation in such a way as to remain largely invisible'.10 Reflection on the history of childbirth and its relation to modern practice is helpful in gaining some insight into the representation of births in films. Historical writings made it clear that sons have been considered more desirable than daughters for many centuries and across many cultures and countries. Lloyd de Mause, in his European history of childhood, noted that before the fourth century AD, when infanticide was not considered a crime, girl babies were often killed. He concluded that: 'Girls were, of course, valued little'. De Mause cited Hilarion's letter to his pregnant wife Alis in 1 BC, in which he ordered her to expose a daughter and let a son live.11 Lerner also noted that in 8-5th century BC Athens: 'The main function of wives was to produce male heirs… Many female children were exposed at birth and left to die, with the decision over their fate always made by the father'.12 Additionally, Adrienne Rich observed that ancient 10Gerda Lerner, The Creation of the Feminine Consciousness: From the Middle Ages to Eighteen- Seventy, Oxford University Press, NY/Oxford, 1993, p. 3. 11Lloyd de Mause, 'The Evolution of Childhood' in L. de Mause (ed.), The History of Childhood, Harper Torchbooks, NY, 1984, pp. 1-73, see particularly pp. 25-6. 12Gerda Lerner, The Creation of Patriarchy, Oxford University Press, NY/Oxford, 1986, p. 202. 5 Upanishad texts privileged male births by maintaining that the father welcomed the birth of a son, as a representation of his own second birth.13 The preference was widespread.