GENDERED SPACES AND FEMALE RESISTANCE: VIRGINIA WOOLF’S “THE MARK ON THE WALL” JORGE SACIDO ROMERO AND LAURA M. LOJO RODRÍGUEZ University of Santiago de Compostela [email protected] - [email protected] 93 In a retrospective analysis of the houses she had once inhabited, Virginia Woolf claimed that those spaces “explained a great deal” (1985: 124) of both her private life and her fictional works. The evocative power of space in Woolf’s recollections extends to imagining time and events in architectural terms. As Tracy Seeley has suggested (1996: 89), Woolf’s interior spaces often act as embodiments, reminders and signs. Woolf’s recollections frequently appear attached to spaces: “In order to fix a date, it is necessary to remember what one saw” (1985: 83), the narrator of “The Mark on the Wall” claims. Spaces and their significance help to clarify many aspects of Woolf’s life and work and the connection between the two: their cultural meanings attach not only to Woolf’s personal experience, but also to her aesthetics, in which architectural spaces suggest complex whole lives and describe structures of thought. This paper intends to discuss Virginia Woolf’s conviction that space is never a neutral emptiness, but a web of cultural, social and ideological relations which condition those individuals that inhabit them. Gender and space are constructed as mutually dependant categories, and both appear in need, in Woolf’s view, of revision and rethinking. Woolf’s first published short narrative, “The Mark on the Wall” (1917) dramatises such a need through its main argumentative thread, while also advancing certain assumptions embodied in the construction of a particular imagery which were to be centrally recurrent in some on her most celebrated miscelánea: a journal of english and american studies 34 (2006): pp. 93-108 ISSN: 1137-6368 Jorge Sacido Romero and Laura M. Lojo Rodríguez works. The patriarchal mechanics of production versus reproduction are perfectly reflected in the divorce between the public and private realm traditionally inhabited by men and women respectively. Woolf’s “The Mark on the Wall” aims at dismantling such an opposition by means of subverting the very politics of space, where the traditional living-room turns into a place of subversion in which a subjective narrative perspective is compulsively engaged in exposing and discarding the assumed consistency of the male dominant modes of viewing and representing reality. The mark on the wall, both the title and the key image which structures the story, emerges as a disturbing blot that threatens to diminish order and coherence within the confines of the space which the traditional living room entails. Revealingly, it becomes the narrator’s focus of attention, as well as the starting point of her subversive reflections. Gaston Bachelard has claimed that “inhabited space transcends geometrical space” (1958: vii) or, in other words, that memory and imagination work dependably in our recollections of space as a structural principle. However relevant Bachelard’s work may have been, recent criticism has looked deeper into the interrelations of culture and space, rejecting the Kantian view of space as an a priori emptiness 94 which becomes filled with activity. As Michel Foucault has argued, space used to be either dismissed as “belonging to ‘nature’ —that is, the given, the basic conditions, ‘physical geography’, in other words, a sort of pre-historical stratum, or else it was conceived as the residential state or field of expansion of peoples, of a culture, a language or a state” (1972: 149).1 Certainly, as Fredric Jameson has claimed, “space is ideological” (1988: 35), although the question has tended itself to be absorbed by naturalistic or anthropological perspectives, most notably in phenomenology. Instead, Jameson underlines the relationship of the individual subject or of the subject of lived experience to the architectural, spatial object by conceiving of space as a text, in which “a whole range of ‘signs’ and ‘codes’ are combined, whether in the organic unity of a shared code, or in ‘collage’ systems of various kinds” (1988: 36). Among other recent contributors to the theory of space, Henri Lefebvre considers space as a “social product” (1991: 26) which contains and regulates the social relations of both production and reproduction. Ideology produces specific kinds of spaces which may serve as tools of “thought and action, a means of control, hence of domination and power” (1991: 26). In short, cultural space reproduces the ideology which produced it in the first place. Decoding thus the multiple “intersections” of cultural meanings in a given space can reveal a society’s spatial practice, demarcated by social relations and inhabited by history both personal and public. Virginia Woolf implicitly linked personal experience, cultural history and material conditions in most of her fictional work, and more overtly in A Room of One’s Own (1929) and its sequel Three Guineas (1938). In the latter, Woolf shows how the ideology of public life produces miscelánea: a journal of english and american studies 34 (2006): pp. 93-108 ISSN: 1137-6368 Virginia Woolf’s “The Mark on the Wall” monuments of architectural space: “Within a small space are crowded together St Paul’s, the Bank of England, the Mansion House, the massive if funereal battlements of the Law Courts; and on the other side, Westminster Abbey and the Houses of Parliament” (1992a: 176). Such “monuments of its own magnificence”, as W.B. Yeats would have it, shape and condition private spaces too. As Woolf sees it: “It is from this world that the private house [...] has derived its creeds, its laws, its clothes and carpets, its beef and mutton” (1992a: 177). It seems clear that Woolf considers space and gender as mutually dependant, most commonly understood as a discrimination between the public sphere, associated with masculinity, and the private or domestic sphere, generally conceived of as female. Such an opposition is hierarchical and supports an ideology that is both patriarchal and capitalist at heart, prescribing gender roles and activities backed up by a dynamics of production and reproduction in an enslaving binary system. This opposition and its dynamics determine, then, a woman’s place. As is well known, A Room of One’s Own dramatises the ‘place’ of women in culture through a history of exclusion and poverty, literally and metaphorically alluded to through the use of Woolf’s discriminatory imagery, which permeates the whole essay. Woolf advocates the need for material independence and creative space, particularly in 95 relation to the public world which excludes her as an Outsider: “If one is a woman one is often surprised by a sudden splitting of consciousness, say in walking down Whitehall, when from being the natural inheritor of that civilisation, she becomes, on the contrary, outside of it, alien and critical” (1992a: 101). In spite of such alienation, culture and literary tradition —abstract concepts which for Woolf appear embodied in specific sites and places— call for trespass by women, as she would argue in her late essay “The Leaning Tower” (1940): “Let us trespass at once. Literature is no one’s private ground; literature is common ground [...]. Let us trespass freely and fearlessly and find our way for ourselves” (1992b: 178). Since a woman’s ‘place’ can only be understood in relation to masculine culture, Woolf considers it necessary to contest and resist from the very place of oppression, thus subverting those modes of behaviour and thought which patriarchy has prescribed for women as obedient subjects, as proper to their female nature. The question goes beyond a process of rejecting a patriarchal gender role (for Woolf, embodied by the ‘Angel in the House’ inhabiting the Victorian house) by articulating the need to diminish the role of man as the sole maker of culture, as she had argued in A Room of One’s Own: “Women have served all these centuries as looking-glasses possessing the magic and delicious power of reflecting the figure of man at twice its natural size. Without that power probably the earth would still be swamp and jungle” (1992a: 45-46). But suppose for a moment that the “looking-glass smashes, the image disappears, and the romantic figure with the green of forest depths all about it is there no miscelánea: a journal of english and american studies 34 (2006): pp. 93-108 ISSN: 1137-6368 Jorge Sacido Romero and Laura M. Lojo Rodríguez longer” (1985: 85), the narrator of “The Mark on the Wall” challenges. A discussion of this proposal is already articulated in this early Woolfian text, where the narrator imagines the existence of “a quiet spacious world [...] without professors or specialists” (1985: 87). Far from being withdrawals into self- indulgence, those pictures imply that gender and space are defined through male power. In literary terms, fiction-making has been overwhelmingly a male-gendered space, dominated by male voices and technical tools and impregnated with male values, as Woolf argues in her essay “Women and Fiction”: When a woman comes to write [...] she will find that she is perpetually wishing to alter the established values —to make serious what appears insignificant to a man, and trivial what is to him important. And for that, of course, she will be criticised; for the critic of the opposite sex will be genuinely puzzled by an attempt to alter the current scale of values, and will see in it not merely a difference in view, but a view which is weak, trivial or sentimental, because it differs from his own. (Woolf 1966: 146) Yet Woolf articulates the female writer’s need to contest, to trespass, while also suggesting that fiction-making is also women’s ‘place’. In “The Mark on the Wall”, 96 such a need appears articulated from the very place of female oppression, the realm of the domestic from the privacy of a living room.