Thoughts on "Pagan Night"

 “Pagan Night” (kind of long; excuse typos :))

Words/phrases: “he keeps crying”; “has one rash or another”;

Particularly visual images: (or tactile, auditory, etc. images):

“coughs”; “seems to shudder and choke”; a twisted face turning colors” (542) Sunny puts suntan lotion on the baby’s sores, massage oil, whatever is left in her suitcase from the other life . . .” (543); “She would always be a bad girl” (544);

[The above is but a very small sliver of what I might look at; this is just a representation of what I write about below)

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I’ve already mentioned that readers’ reactions to Sunny’s perceived weaknesses or failures as a woman would be of interest to me in a feminist analysis (generally speaking, whether or not fictional characters embody and perform culturally proscribed models of femininity or womanhood is of large interest to feminist critics. The very ideas of what is “feminine” or which qualities and features comprise “womanhood” are just that – ideas.  Some ideas are more popular/more valuable than others. In our time and place the most “feminine” of women has certain characteristics (and of course, we’re operating here on the assumption that being feminine is vitally important – this assumption, too, is often questioned by feminists and feminist critics). Think for a minute about what’s typically considered feminine or what you think the “ultimate” woman is like (not what you think, but what you think the majority values). We’ll probably all be on the same page. Feminist critics are interested in deconstruction these idealizations of women and quick to point out that few real women ultimately measure up but are culturally compelled to keep trying to avoid social judgment, attract a mate, have friends, to fit in. It’s like middle school all over again, on a giant scale. The identity “mother” is a touchy one – and a very, very important one. I think no one is judged more harshly than a mother who causes harm to her child (or is simply indifferent to/dislikes the child). A feminist critic might suggest a few things about this identity category: 1) since women are supposed to want to be mothers and so much of our culture revolves around motherhood, babies, families, etc. it’s tricky to step outside this boundary and to opt out. Social and familial judgment abounds in such circumstances . . . but why?  2) Are women so compelled to bear children that they often do without being sure or even desiring them in the first place? Are these women to be judged or pitied? What’s responsible for undesired parentage – the cultural juggernaut that enforces childbearing and raising as the ultimate marker of feminine womanhood – or the individual women who choose it and botch it? Are they victims or monsters? 3) Statistically speaking, motherhood makes women more vulnerable on all fronts (subject of another discussion, but the statistics are real). Many feminist critics have examined texts in which motherhood is used to control and suppress women (even if individual women want children and mother them well).  Is today’s motherhood empowering or limiting? Both? How do more modern literary texts represent motherhood? 4) One of the newer cultural models is, of course, the career mom – she has a professional career (not just a “job”), a good marriage or partnership, and well-rounded, happy children. Of course, this mother is both admired and despised by various groups – she’s a bad mom if she’s devoted to her job; she’s a bad employee if she’s too devoted to her children; conversely she’s admired, sold to ambitious young women as being very realistic; holds up under the scrutiny of women who “just” stay home and “don’t do anything” besides mother. Perhaps she’s damned if she does and damned if she doesn’t (many feminist critics would suggest this paradox is very, if unfortunately, true). All this said . . . what on earth does the feminist critic do with Sunny?

Jumping to the text, immediately we learn that the baby is having a hard time and perhaps isn’t well cared for (“he keeps crying”, “has one rash after another”, “coughs” . . . “it is a baby of spasms” (542)). Quickly following, we’re told that “Dalton never wanted the baby” and . . . “Neither did she” (542). The average reader is probably going to assume that since the as of yet unnamed woman takes poor care of her baby since she didn’t want him – and she will likely be instantly hated or criticized. Our cultural bent is still toward woman-as-mother – that is, the majority assume, to recap, that a) women naturally want to be mothers; b) are uniquely equipped to and have a greater duty to care well for their offspring, even to their own detriment, and, I think, c) should be mothers, in the sense that it’s a biological imperative, divine right, natural, and good. Largely, I think we’re still at the point that we often question a complete lack of desire for motherhood in a woman as suspect, or at least weird, sometimes off putting. To not want to the baby you’ve created and then to bear it and not take care of it is monstrous in our culture (if you have it, you should either love it wholeheartedly and take care of it OR give it up for adoption). On the surface, Sunny is a failure on a number of fronts – she’s poor, uneducated, and ill equipped to care for a child (read: irresponsible, stupid, a drain to society). She doesn’t really want the child and doesn’t take care of it properly despite efforts here and there (read: callous, cold, emotionally damaged . . . something must be wrong with her to not want it once it comes, right?). She does nothing to better or situation or get out of it (read: pitiful, again – stupid, lazy, passive) . . .and she daydreams about “getting rid of” the baby (monstrous, despicable). These things can be true and false, of course.  Ultimately, this line is likely to incite readers: ““The baby was just something that happened and there didn’t seem to be the time to make it not happen” (542). This appears to be the height of irresponsibility – we all know babies don’t “just” happen and then just “happen” to be carried to term. A feminist critic looking to get beyond hating and dismissing Sunny might examine other things: if Sunny has been sexually or otherwise abused, it’s possible she has not received the help she needs and thus is truly incapable of making good decisions as a sexual woman and poor, young mother.  Whether she stays with Dalton or leaves him, it’s quite likely her life – and thus the baby’s – is going to be one of very poor quality. She clearly doesn’t have a supportive, available family. We know Dalton’s not supportive or available. Before we get high and mighty and start with the “she could have made totally different decisions and beat the odds and yadda yadda yadda”, we should at least consider the fact that family dynamics, abuse, lack of care, lack of encouragement toward getting an education or teaching about the importance of education, geographic and general social environment (we’re heading toward social class) DO affect people. Do social class and early individual circumstances determine one’s consciousness and reality? Many, if not most, feminist critics think they do to some extend; Marxist critics maintain that an individual cannot help but be a product of his/her environment and that rising far above the social class into which one is born is only marginally possible (and that this phenomenon is so celebrated by the media, etc. that such a meteoric rise from the ashes to fame and success is perceived as far more common than it really is. Of course, we could say lots of things about “Pagan Night” that I haven’t, so what say you?