Fatherhood in Contemporary Discourse: Focus on Fathers

Fatherhood in Contemporary Discourse

Fatherhood in Contemporary Discourse:

Focus on Fathers

Edited by

Anna Pilińska

Fatherhood in Contemporary Discourse: Focus on Fathers Edited by Anna Pilińska Reviewed by: Rafał Borysławski, Ph.D. Justyna Deszcz-Tryhubczak, Ph.D. Dominika Ferens, Ph.D. Izabela Kimak, Ph.D. Dorota Kołodziejczyk, Ph.D. Małgorzata Maciejewska, Ph.D. Mariusz Marszalski, Ph.D. Beata Piątek, Ph.D. Elżbieta Rokosz-Piejko, Ph.D. Tomasz Sikora, Ph.D. Katarzyna Więckowska, Ph.D. This book first published 2017 Cambridge Scholars Publishing Lady Stephenson Library, Newcastle upon Tyne, NE6 2PA, UK British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Copyright © 2017 by Anna Pilińska and contributors All rights for this book reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner. ISBN (10): 1-4438-7323-3 ISBN (13): 978-1-4438-7323-9

TABLE OF CONTENTS Foreword .................................................................................................. viii A Word on Focus on Fathers Anna Pili ska Section I A Non-fiction Fathers: Fatherhood in Sociological, Psychological, and Political Discourse Fatherhood in Local Contexts Chapter One ................................................................................................. 2 Confronting or Confirming Westernization? Masculinity and Fatherhood in Indonesian Lifestyle Magazines Desi Dwi Prianti Chapter Two .............................................................................................. 17 Father Managers (Un)Doing Traditional Masculinity Emilia Kangas, Anna-Maija Lämsä, Suvi Heikkinen Chapter Three ............................................................................................ 31 Visions of Fatherhood of Young Homosexual and Bisexual Men in Lithuania Lina Šumskait Chapter Four .............................................................................................. 43 Portrayal of Homosexual Fathers in American Children's Literature since the 1990s Agnieszka Jarosz

Section I B Non-fiction Fathers: Fatherhood in Sociological, Psychological, and Political Discourse Fathers versus Particular Challenges Chapter Five .............................................................................................. 58 Fatherhood from Fathers’ Own Perspective Aleksandra Jacukowicz, Agata W yk

Table of Contents

vi

Chapter Six ................................................................................................ 71 “I want Daddy”: A Father as a Caregiver of a Hospitalized Child in the Eyes of Hospital Staff Ma gorzata Pietras-Mrozicka

Section II A Paper Papas: Fatherhood in Literature Fatherhood in Contemporary Popular Fiction Chapter Seven ............................................................................................ 88 Fatherhood, Masculinity and Complex Father-Child Relationships in Tim Winton’s Fiction Tomasz Gadzina Chapter Eight ........................................................................................... 100 Ouroboros of the Man’s World: Fatherhood and the Rite of Passage in Mario Vargas Llosa and James Joyce Karina Sembe Chapter Nine ............................................................................................ 109 Biological, Absent, Reluctant: The Fathers and Father Figures in Nick Hornby’s Slam and About a Boy Zbigniew G owala Chapter Ten ............................................................................................. 120 Patriarchal Fathers, Submissive Daughters in the Fiction of Margaret Atwood and Hanan Al-Shaykh Sally Karmi

Section II B Paper Papas: Fatherhood in Literature Fatherhood in World Literatures Chapter Eleven ........................................................................................ 134 Displays of Father-Apparition in Contemporary Context of Iranian Young Adult Literature Taraneh Houshyar Chapter Twelve ....................................................................................... 147 Rebels With(out) a Cause and their Soviet Fathers in Serhiy Zhadan’s Depeche Mode Mateusz wietlicki

Fatherhood in Contemporary Discourse: Focus on Fathers vii

Chapter Thirteen ...................................................................................... 159 Fathers and Children in the Plays of Miro Gavran Zdenka er

Section III On-screen Dads: Fatherhood in Films

Chapter Fourteen ..................................................................................... 180 “We’re His Goddamn Kids, Too”: Reflecting Fatherhood in Public Responses to the Death of Robin Williams Katie Barnett Chapter Fifteen ........................................................................................ 193 Masculinity and Fatherhood in Ang Lee’s Pushing Hands Yumin Zhang

Section IV Primetime Pops: Fatherhood in Popular Culture Chapter Sixteen ....................................................................................... 206 Different Notions of Fatherhood in Anime Series Naruto and in the First Part of Karl Ove Knausgård's Autobiographical Novel My Struggle Grzegorz Ma ecki Chapter Seventeen ................................................................................... 217 My boy has reached that age when he wants to do the driving: On Fathers and Cars

ukasz Salski Chapter Eighteen ..................................................................................... 227 From Tarzan to Homer Simpson: Banalization and Masculine Violence in Contemporary Societies Sócrates Nolasco Chapter Nineteen ..................................................................................... 239 Horned, Emperor, Pope: Fathers in Divination Handbooks Tomasz Piasecki Contributors ............................................................................................. 254

FOREWORD

A WORD ON FOCUS ON FATHERS

ANNA PILI SKA Male parenting has gradually come to mark its presence in contemporary discourse, be it in art, media, or social and cultural studies. Literary examples of such endeavours would include Cormac McCarthy’s The Road (2006) or Junot Diaz’s The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao (2007), and many others. Even game developers decide to incorporate father figures into their interactive narratives, as it can be observed in titles such as The Banner Saga (2012) or The Last of Us (2013). The popularity of Dan Pearce’s blog Single Dad Laughing no longer surprises, as more and more fathers speak up and share their experiences. The founding and popularity of “The Faces Of Our Fathers” Film Festival in the USA demonstrates a growing need for a more thorough study and increased visibility of fatherhood as a social and cultural phenomenon. As men’s studies unveil and examine the plurality of masculinities, various categories of fatherhood and father figures come to be represented in contemporary culture – from very strict and conservative, through the “traditional,” often sitcom-like model, to the more troubled males for whom parenting is yet one more issue to tackle.

This monograph offers an interdisciplinary overview of the current status of fatherhood in various academic disciplines such as social studies, psychology, literature studies, film and media studies. From global overviews of fatherhood-related issues to very particular, local contexts in which these issues become materialized and emphasized, the volume includes chapters on Western perspectives as well as Central and East European, Asian, and Middle-Eastern contexts.

The opening section of the volume focuses on male parenthood as realized, enacted, and analyzed by social scientists. In a chapter titled “Confronting of Confirming Westernization? Masculinity and Fatherhood in Indonesian Lifestyle Magazines,” Desi Dwi Prianti elaborates on the meaning of fatherhood and its various renditions, as she examines the

Fatherhood in Contemporary Discourse: Focus on Fathers ix

emergence and influence of men’s lifestyle magazines in the specifically local context of Indonesia. Through the lens of the very specific and targeted discourse of those publications, the author sheds light on the attempts to achieve a new coherent and cohesive definition of fatherhood which would fit the everyday reality of contemporary Indonesian men. A similarly local environment is described in the chapter “Father Managers (Un)doing Traditional Masculinity” by Emilia Kangas, Anna-Maija Lämsä, and Suvi Heikkinen. The authors describe a study conducted on a group of Finnish men holding managerial positions and their attitudes towards fatherhood, with the ultimate result of the research being the emergence of four distinct fatherhood discourses, labelled in the article as “breadwinner fatherhood,” “uncommitted fatherhood,” “best bits of fatherhood,” and “hands-on fatherhood.”

In “Visions of Fatherhood of Young Homosexual and Bisexual Men in Lithuania,” the author Lina Sumskaite discusses the situation of non-heteronormative Lithuanian men and their stance on becoming parents, with their more or less vocal opinions on the issue of parenting being strictly connected with the level of acceptance in their respective environments, and with their decisions to “come out” or to remain “closeted.”

Agnieszka Jarosz focuses on the question of same-sex parenting as depicted in recent American children’s publications in her chapter titled “Portrayal of Homosexual Fathers in American Children's Literature since the 1990s.” The author carefully selects a handful of controversial yet pivotal works of fiction targeted at parents of young children (and the children themselves), and analyzes various strategies to which writers resort in order to convey the very idea of same-sex parenting in a way which would be comprehensible to children and, at the same time, palatable to parents.

In “Fatherhood from Fathers’ Own Perspective,” Aleksandra Jacukowicz and Agata W yk share the results of a Polish-Norwegian study, with a special focus on male interviewees and their personal interpretations of, approaches to, and realizations of parental and gender roles as observed in their own families.

Finally, in “’I Want Daddy.’ A Father as a Caregiver of a Hospitalized Child in the Eyes of the Hospital Staff,” Ma gorzata Pietras-Mrozicka introduces a very interesting perspective on fatherhood as experienced within the context of caring for a sick child who needs to remain in hospital. Special emphasis is placed on the question of communication between the parent and the hospital staff, and the potential consequences it may have for the father-child relationship as well as for hospital workers

Foreword

x

who should be prepared to facilitate and encourage situations in which it is the male parent who remains by the child’s hospital bed.

The second section of the volume is dedicated to literary renditions of fathers and children, opening with Tomasz Gadzina’s article titled “Fatherhood, Masculinity and Complex Father-Child Relationships in Tim Winton’s Fiction.” In this chapter, the author demonstrates how Winton’s protagonists rarely inscribe themselves into the paradigm of hegemonic masculinity and depart from the traditional “type” represented within the context of Australian masculinity. As Gadzina notices, Winton’s female characters do not conform to the norms of traditionally conceived femininity, which is not to say, nonetheless, that the writer’s technique while creating his characters is a simple reversal of gender roles. The dynamics between men and women in Winton’s fiction, as the author argues, are far more complex and nuanced.

In “Ouroboros of the Man’s World: Fatherhood and the Rite of Passage in Mario Vargas Llosa and James Joyce,” Karina Sembe touches upon the notion of machismo, in an attempt to comprehend and clarify androcentric discourse. The author incorporates analyses of works by Vargas Llosa and Joyce, focusing on and comparing two models of dominance and submission, which are military experience and religious education.

Fathers and sons – or rather “fathers” and “sons” – are the focus of Zbigniew G owala’s chapter titled “Biological, Absent, Reluctant: Fathers and Father Figures in Nick Hornby’s Slam and About a Boy.” The author analyzes the protagonists of these two novels, pointing out to their roles as fathers and children, even though the actual fathers in Hornby’s fiction tend to lack fatherly qualities, while the father figures instinctively chosen by children are either not father-materials, or are actually just a poster on the wall.

In “Patriarchal Fathers, Submissive Daughters in the Fiction of Margaret Atwood and Hanan Al-Shaykh,” Sally Karmi speaks of women writers and their renditions of the subject of oppressive patriarchy in Margaret Atwood's Cat's Eye (1988) and Hanan Al-Shaykh's The Story of Zahra (1986). Approaching the issue of patriarchy as universal and not location-specific, the author purposely compares and contrasts literary texts from two different cultural contexts to demonstrate the common points between the female narrators of the two novels and their experiences as daughters of dominant and powerful fathers.

Taraneh Houshyar takes up the topic of masculinity and its components in the chapter “Displays of Father-Apparition in Contemporary Context of Iranian Young Adult Fictions.” The author analyzes selected titles to

Fatherhood in Contemporary Discourse: Focus on Fathers xi

introduce and characterize specific types of fathers within the context of Iranian culture and mindset, labeling them as Advocate Fathers, Aggressive Fathers, and finally Abstruse Fathers.

The chapter is followed by Mateusz wietlicki’s “Rebels With(out) a Cause and Their Soviet Fathers in Serhiy Zhadan’s Depeche Mode,” which focuses on postcolonial generational awareness connected with the socio-cultural aspects of memory, forgetting and trauma (including post-memory and post-trauma), ressentiment and nostalgia, as well as subcultural identity, gender and linguistic awareness. On the example of Zhadan’s novel Depeche Mode, wietlicki demonstrates how the father-son relations are influenced by the post-totalitarian social trauma.

In “Fathers and Children in the Plays of Miro Gavran,” Zdenka er introduces the reader to the world of Gavran’s dramas revolving around the themes of parenthood and gender, and approaches these themes from a variety of perspectives. In Gavran’s plays, fatherhood is perceived both within the family, through father–daughter or father–son, mother–son relationships as well as from the point of view of a single parent.

The third section of the volume centers around on-screen depictions of fathers and father figures, opening with Katie Barnett’s “’We’re His Goddamn Kids, Too’: Reflecting Fatherhood in Public Responses to the Death of Robin Williams,” in which the author examines the reaction to Williams’ death within the context of his star persona, exploring the extent to which this has been consistently constructed around the image of the flawed, but ultimately reliable, father on the Hollywood screen.

In “Masculinity and Fatherhood in Ang Lee’s Pushing Hands,” Yumin Zhang explores issues of gender and racial politics by examining the representation of the Chinese father figure (Mr. Chu) in Ang Lee’s 1992 debut feature film. By performing a textual analysis and a close reading of the application of film techniques, this chapter first discusses the ways in which the Chinese father is represented with respect to the traditional understanding of normative Chinese masculinity and fatherhood, and then explores how these notions are destabilized in the father-son relationship. Kam Louie’s wen-wu analytic model of Chinese masculinity and the Confucian notion of filial piety in Chinese fatherhood are applied to analyze the masculinity of the father.

The chapters comprising the final section of the book focus on representations of fatherhood in popular culture. Grzegorz Ma ecki’s “Different Notions of Fatherhood in Anime Series Naruto and in the First Part of Karl Ove Knausgård's Autobiographical Novel My Struggle” presents a comparative analysis of fatherhood depictions in two different genres and media: literature and Japanese animation, confronting two

Foreword

xii

different models of fatherhood – one in which the father is physically absent and his role is played by mentors and teachers (Naruto), and one in which the father is a strong, even domineering figure (My Struggle).

In “My Son Has Reached That Age When He Wants To Do the Driving – On Fathers and Cars,” ukasz Salski selects and analyzes both prose and films to demonstrate how the recurring motif of vehicles may become the focal point of a crisis in relations between fathers and children. The author points to a number of works of literature and movies in which motor vehicles amplify relations between fathers and their children, and studies how they influence reception of the characters. Next, in a chapter titled “From Tarzan to Homer Simpson: Banalization and Masculine Violence in Contemporary Societies” Sócrates Nolasco uses examples of films and cartoon television series to highlight and discuss the issue of anti-heroes and their demise as symbolic of the decline and downfall of male social representation in contemporary society. The section’s closing chapter is Tomasz Piasecki’s “Horned, Emperor, Pope. Fathers in Divination Handbooks,” devoted to linguistic and cultural constructions of the father motif in modern tarot handbooks and consisting of a study focused on linguistic methods of constructing fatherhood (gender related, functional, and axiological) and its placement within the cultural system in which spell handbooks, mantics, and various cultural aspects are realized (valorization, teleology, autoidentification of fatherhood).

All centered around the theme of fatherhood, the chapters in the following volume cover an impressive range of perspectives, research methods, and interpretations – from actual realizations of father roles in specific cultural contexts to fictional depictions of male parenthood and father figures. The multiplicity of voices in the debate and approaches to the subject matter makes the present volume a valid contribution to the already existing academic discourse on fatherhood.

SECTION I A

NON-FICTION FATHERS: FATHERHOOD IN SOCIOLOGICAL, PSYCHOLOGICAL, AND POLITICAL

DISCOURSE

FATHERHOOD IN LOCAL CONTEXTS

CHAPTER ONE

CONFRONTING OR CONFIRMING WESTERNIZATION?

MASCULINITY AND FATHERHOOD IN INDONESIAN LIFESTYLE MAGAZINES

DESI DWI PRIANTI1

“Being a son, man has a bigger responsibility because in the future he will become the head of the family.” (Santana in Best Life Indonesia, 2012)

In contemporary, mainstream Indonesian society, doxic cultural expectations play an important role in how one forms one’s identity. As Men and Masculinities Studies have demonstrated (based on Connell’s concept of hegemonic masculinity), the development of gender identity, not only for women but also for men, is tensioned by powerful normative discourses, as illustrated by the opening quote. Forming a family, being a father and a husband are a man’s kodrat – or natural destiny – fate, which is the main guide for both men and women in defining their identity.

Historically since the pre-colonial era, the concept of fatherhood has lain at the heart of what it means to be a man in Indonesia. Indeed, being a dedicated father and husband represents a man’s primary route towards the acquisition of societal status. Within Indonesian patriarchal hierarchy, young men are subordinate to their fathers and other older male relatives until they have married and formed families of their own. Literature focusing on gender in Indonesia has repeatedly designated fatherhood as the idealized notion of masculinity (Blackwood, 1998; Graham, 2001; Clark, 2004; Nilan, Donaldson & Howson, 2007; Nilan, 2009). Indonesian men have, until recently, been expected to devote their lives to the reliable provision of income for their families. No matter how wild a man’s youth, once he is married and becomes a father, he is expected to take care of his family. Hence, the family was a man’s priority in life regardless of his ambitions and passions during adolescence.

Confronting or Confirming Westernization? 3

However, modernization and the rise of feminism in contemporary Indonesian society have introduced different perspectives with regard to gender relations. Western notions of gender equality are partly based on the belief that the sexual division of labor within the family creates a disproportionate power balance, one in which women hold the inferior position. This view has been greatly influenced by materialist theory (Engels, [1891] 1978), which suggests that the means of production or the social domain represent the ultimate source of male dominance over women. Assigning women to purely domestic spheres such as child rearing was seen as the main source of women’s exploitation. This structure, whilst widely accepted in Indonesian society, was to prove instrumental in initiating a movement towards women’s emancipation during the late 1980s. In order to be equal to men some Indonesian women chose to have careers in social domains instead of domestic domains. However, in an Indonesian context, being a housewife does not necessarily situate any given woman in a binary opposition to a a woman who chooses career over family. Indeed, numerous studies (Geertz, 1961; Peacock, 1973; Stoler, 1977; Koentjaraningrat, 1985; Megawangi, 1999; Handayani & Novianto, 2004) have confirmed women’s (or wives’) autonomy and authority over men (or husbands) in Indonesian society specifically because they are located in the domestic sphere. This is especially true for Javanese tribes – the most patriarchal tribes in Indonesia – where men heavily depend upon the support and autonomy of women. Additionally, in her research addressing Minahasa tribes, Megawangi (1999) reported a negative correlation between men’s participation in household chores and their wives’ perceived happiness. Clearly, Indonesia represents a geopolitical location in which the universality of Western perspectives of equality comes into question.

Thus Indonesia, even as a patriarchal society, still questions the hegemonic Western concepts of what being a man actually means. As a father, a man is expected to be the head of the family, a position that does not necessarily mean being the superior figure of the household but rather implies a particular responsibility in the household. The father is primarily responsible for providing the family income, putting his wife’s and children’s best interests first. As an example, it is common practice for Indonesian men to give all or most of their income to their wives, both because men are considered incapable of handling money carefully, and as a way to demonstrate their responsibility towards their families (Geertz, 1961; Koentjaraningrat, 1985).

Nonetheless, the extraordinary global expansion of Western media has provided Indonesian society with new images of Western masculinity:

Chapter One

4

white, educated, appearance-oriented, middle-class men. As a result, fatherhood, which has always been firmly rooted in the Indonesian concept of masculinity, is fading into the background, now being detached from men’s widely understood life goals and agendas. This research shows how a selection of popular contemporary men’s lifestyle magazines currently available in Indonesia, do not consider fatherhood to be an important editorial topic. As I hope to demonstrate, changing concepts of masculinity are believed to have a close relation with the existence of men’s lifestyle magazines and for this reason the magazines intentionally choose to address it (Frank, 2014; Nixon, 2013). After a careful analysis of seven most popular men’s magazines available in Indonesia, including Esquire Indonesia, Men’s Health Indonesia, Men’s Folio, and Best Life Indonesia, I found that only the latter provides a section on fatherhood in each edition. The other magazines focus more on men’s sex life, working life, and physical appearance. To expand upon these findings, I will discuss how fatherhood is portrayed alongside contemporary concepts of masculinity in Indonesia by (1) looking at historical and sociological factors that influence gender construction in Indonesia; (2) studying the changes in the discourse on masculinity; and (3) investigating the portrayal of fatherhood, specifically in Best Life Indonesia magazine.

Fatherhood as the core of masculinity in Indonesia

Indonesia is a large and extraordinarily diverse country. According to the national census in 2010 by Statistics Indonesia (BPS, 2011), the population consists of almost 240 million people with more than one thousand tribes and ethnic groups.2 The country encompasses more than one thousand islands. Historically, the state has stipulated that being a father and a family man were the most important societal narratives for men in Indonesia. As an example, Law no 1 of 1974 concerning marriage explicitly regulates the relation between husband and wife in the family. The law clearly positions the husband as the head of the family who has to protect his wife and provide her with a household and a livelihood. The same principle is also supported by another governmental organization, namely the National Family Planning Coordinating Board (BKKBN). Moreover, the BKKBN asserts that persevering, leading, and guiding the family – including helping one’s wife take care of the children – are all parts of a husband’s duties.

The national family planning program, or Keluarga Berencana (KB), successfully reduced the national fertility rate whilst at the same time promoting the ‘ideal’ type of family, one which consists of a father as the


breadwinner, a mother as the caregiver, and two children. These ‘ideal’ narratives are also supported by several state-sanctioned women’s organizations, such as Dharma Wanita, or Women’s Service, and the PKK, or Family Guidance Movement. The former is an organization of the wives of civil servants whilst the latter is an organization of wives at a broader, more local, community level. Both organizations emphasize the important duty of wives to support their husbands as breadwinners by taking care of the household. In this overtly patriarchal discourse, being a reliable provider becomes a moral obligation for men, whilst being a caregiver becomes a moral obligation for women.

Pervasive Western perspectives on women’s position, namely that of being inferior to men, were widely accepted during the late 1980s and fueled the women´s emancipation movement in Indonesia.3 This movement was greatly influenced by popular Western notions of gender equality. In capitalist societies, economic capital is seen as the ultimate resource through which an individual can gain power. Engels ([1891] 1978) believed that the exploitation of women primarily takes place within the family. Thus, following Engels, the first generation of women to seek emancipation in Indonesia actively advocated economic independence as a way for women to become empowered. The woman as a domestic mother started to be perceived as powerless and dependent upon her husband. As a result, the private domain, such as child rearing, came to be considered unmanly through these narratives of powerlessness. However, Indonesia is a case in which the universality of Western perspectives is thrown into question. Being the sole breadwinner does not necessarily privilege a man as the superior figure in the family. Not only because of the man’s obligation to give all of his income to his wife, but also his need for his wife’s permission to spend his money – she has the authority. Indeed, in her anthropological study on Javanese families, Geertz (1961) discovered how married men in general were highly dependent upon their wives, struggling to support their livelihoods without them.4 Other scholars (Megawangi, 1999; Clark, 2004; Handayani & Novianto, 2004) also share this concept of women as men’s more powerful partners in the family. Following this concept, two popular sitcoms broadcasted by two different national television stations – Suami-Suami Takut Istri (Trans TV, 2007) and Ikatan Suami Takut Istri (SCTV, 2015) – depicted the phenomenon of Suami takut istri (a husband who is extremely weak or frightened of his wife) in Indonesian society – the former being made into a feature film in 2008.

A study of young men in Indonesia conducted by Nilan (2009) exposed the great pressure upon young men to aspire to being a responsible husband

Chapter One

6

and father. Five Focus Group Discussions (FGD) conducted in 2013 with 50 undergraduate students – female and male – also supported Nilan’s findings. While female students pursue higher education in order to achieve their dreams of becoming career women, male students pursue higher education in order to be successful family men. Further discussions revealed how the ability to provide a livelihood for their future wives and children was what the male students believed represented a successful life.

Hence, it is common for young men to envisage their futures as fathers and family men. Being married and being a father are a man’s way to acquire status as a ‘man’. A man will always be considered a boy, and thus subordinate to older men, unless he is both married and a father. As a father, a man is not only expected to provide economic support for his family, but also to dedicate his time to the welfare of his family, including helping his wife with household tasks and taking care of the children. A man’s involvement with his children should ideally begin as early as the prenatal period (Geertz, 1961; Koentjaraningrat, 1985; Megawangi, 1995). Men are thus required to grant and satisfy their wives’ wishes during pregnancy no matter how difficult and bizarre those wishes might be. They should also observe the pregnancy taboos such killing animals, cutting their hair, not being allowed to curse, etc. Their active role and companionship is also expected during the delivery. All of these efforts go towards ensuring the birth of a healthy and happy child. These findings are supported by a study conducted by Megawangi, Sumarwan and Hartoyo (1994) which revealed that men believed that pleasing their pregnant wives was their obligation and duty. By conforming to these expectations, Indonesian men lay claim to their masculinity. Furthermore, the father’s important role during childhood is performed when the baby is being weaned. Geertz (1961) observed that during this period it is common for the father to play with, feed, bathe, cuddle, and even bring the baby to social occasions. These findings correspond to Coltrane’s (1988) cross-cultural study, which found that fathers have more participation in childcare in cultures that afford women high status.

According to the now famous cultural dimensions study by Hofstede (Hofstede, Hofstede & Minkov, 2010), Indonesia scored low on the individuality dimension compared to the other 40 countries in Hofstede’s research. This score carried implications with regard to the ways in which individuals see and define the concept of ‘family.’ Men are expected to take care not only of their immediate family (wife and children), but also of their extended family – their mother, father and sisters (Saptari, 2000). The same situation does not apply to women, since – once married – a woman and her extended family becomes her husband’s responsibility.


The expansion of Western media discourse

The fall of the New Order and the associated political turmoil in 1998 brought significant changes in daily life in Indonesia. The country entered a period of reformation following the resignation of President Soeharto, the polemic leader who ruled Indonesia for 31 years.5 Following this period of upheaval freedom was high on everyone’s agenda. Freedom of expression – especially freedom of the press – became paramount in people’s minds. The New Order’s system of strict media control had intentionally placed the government in a privileged position, one from which to scrutinize all media activity – effectively a regime of censorship and propaganda. As stated by Hill and Sen (2005) during the New Order era, the Indonesian media consisted of newspapers and magazines, government-controlled radio, and government-controlled television stations. The new freedoms heralded by the Reformation propelled Indonesia towards a new era – one of unprecedented freedom of the press. This freedom was marked by the enactment of the press law (Law Number 40 of 1999), which officially dismantled the government’s right to exert either censorship or control over the press or media. The government’s policy to lift the New Order’s restrictive press rules unleashed the full potential of the international media corporations in Indonesia. A report conducted by Nugroho, Putri and Laksmi (2012) states that by 1999 the number of print media publications in Indonesia hit almost 1,400 – five times higher than the previous year. The number of international media corporations in Indonesia also increased significantly – all of them US-based. Playboy, Cosmopolitan, Vogue, Esquire, and For Him Magazine are just a few of those US-based magazines that now circulate in Indonesia. These dramatic changes in freedom of the press have contributed significantly to the changes occurring throughout Indonesia. The massive expansion of US-based media influences many aspects of Indonesian society. Studies demonstrate the homogenization of culture and the decline of traditional values as a result of Americanization (Budiman, 2002; Machin & Leeuwen, 2007; Lasminah, 2011; Prianti, 2012).

The Indonesian reformation opened the door to a more open, information-centered society, one which inevitably brought forth dramatic social changes including (but certainly not limited to) gender relations, as the media challenged and questioned the established concepts of both family and patriarchal authority. The intense promotion of Western values eventually changed the established notions of masculinity leaning more towards the ideal of the white, educated, appearance-oriented, middle-class man. Unlike traditional Indonesian notions of masculinity, Western

Chapter One

8

narratives of masculinity are more characterized by a self-aware appearance – as portrayed by US-based men’s lifestyle magazines (Drummond & Drummond, 2014; Frank, 2014; Jankowski, Fawkner, Slater & Tiggeman, 2014; Crewe & Goodrum, 2000). Nixon (2013), discussed how men’s grooming product advertisements provide a new imagery of what it takes to be a man. The fetish and the fragmentation of the body – techniques which used to be exclusively associated with the representation of women in the media – are now successfully implemented to illustrate the male body and to advertise products for men.

In a globalized age, cultural hybridity and transculturation (Rogers, 2006) are inevitable consequences. Transculturation problematizes otherwise distinct aspects of a given culture, aspects that might otherwise delineate differences between nations, territories or other entities. Instead culture becomes fragmented, expressing multiplicity and indeterminacy. Therefore, as a result of the dialogical nature of culture, hybridity is inescapable. However, this does not mean that domination and exploitation are absent from the equation. Indeed, cultural imbalances rely on meta-structures which define the superior and the inferior.

Simulating fatherhood

As stated earlier, out of seven of the most popular men’s magazines available in Indonesia – Esquire Indonesia, Men’s Health Indonesia, Daman Indonesia, Men’s Obsession, Fitness for Men, Men’s Folio Indonesia, and Best Life Indonesia – only the latter provided a fatherhood section in each edition. It would seem, at least from the perspective of these magazines, that being a father and a husband is no longer at the core of contemporary notions of masculinity. Men’s lifestyle magazines instead position work, sex, hobbies, personal grooming and fashion at the core of their editorial output. Family is unlikely to be discussed.

In total 23 editions of Best Life Indonesia (BLI) were published during the years 2008-2012. All of the editions from 2014, including three special editions on fatherhood, were analyzed. Targeting mature, middle-class men in their mid-thirties, BLI was first published in November 2008. As a localized version of Best Life US, BLI uses bahasa Indonesia and has its own editorial board.6 Positioning itself as a lifestyle magazine for mature 30+ men, each monthly publication of BLI devotes approximately 10% of its editorial space to topics related to family and fatherhood. Its online media kit states that topics on family and fatherhood are intended to explore ways of being a better father, of looking after one’s parents, and to provide practical solutions for one’s future. However, a note should be


made that, although stated in the media kit, topics pertaining to looking after one’s parents were not to be found in the sample magazines.

For the magazine, the ideal father is one who provides economic support for the family and is thoughtful enough to account for leisure time with his child. Thus, in promoting fatherhood, BLI believes economic capital can be found as a resource in the responsible father, whilst dedicating time to the family is promoted as an upgrading option – not only upgrading the father’s status from a responsible to the ideal father, but also upgrading a father’s own well-being. In The Happy Father (Santana, 2014), the person who was being interviewed claimed that his personal balance in life was found when he was able to apportion the same amount of time to his work and his children. In the Experiences Which Build The Dream (Ardiansyah, 2014) Emmanuel Wehry, a chief marketing officer, cites his family as the best way to get self-refreshment.

Unlike the Indonesian version of fatherhood, with its emphasis on family well-being, in BLI, the male reader is perpetually reminded that spending time with his children is important for his own well-being. BLI’s ‘what’s in it for me?’ narrative works best with the Western idea of patriarchy. Johnson (2005) argued that in a patriarchal world, life is valued from the point of view of male dominance, both male-identified and male-centered. Evidently, Johnson’s concept is not applicable to Indonesian society. Once married, men are expected to devote their lives to their families. Ideally, the father is seen as both the head and the leader of the family. As the leader of the family, the father is expected to act out in the best interest of his family. No matter how wild a man’s youth, irrespective of the dreams he might have had, once he becomes a father, he is expected to put his family first (Geertz, 1961; Graham, 2001; Nilan, Donaldson & Howson, 2007).

Furthermore, BLI specifically defines ‘quality time’ between father and child as doing outdoor, stereotypically masculine activities: horse riding, driving a car, biking, practicing sports, and sailing. In this narrative, the father is seen as the ideal entertainer, fun and worth waiting for. The article When Father is Choosing Stroller (Ardiansyah, 2014) reinforces the same narrative. The article advises the father that with an expensive, branded stroller, there is no reason for him not to stroll his baby. The article also claims that men will be more than willing to stroll their child because it is the same as riding a sports car – something that a man can be proud of. Since children were portrayed as the best way for the father to become re-energized after feeling exhausted from work, doing more passive or relaxing child rearing activities such as changing diapers, giving a bath, brushing their teeth or preparing the bottle were not classified as

Chapter One

10

‘fun’ activities. According to several studies (Dzwonkowska-Godula & Brzezinska, 2012; Connel, 2005; Scherrer, 1990), Western cultural stereotypes of childcare are either ‘unmanly’ or have feminine characteristics.

To be the ideal father, the great father, the perfect father, the inspiring father, the successful father, the best father, is the ultimate goal of the articles about fatherhood found in the BLI – father discourses that function best within Western narratives of fatherhood. Several studies (Valkonen & Hanninen, 2012; Baker, 2005; Johnson, 2005; Kimmel, 1994; Messner, 1989) pointed out that being dominant, competitive or success-oriented are perceived as intrinsically masculine characteristics.

Showing the difficulty of being a father is another way in which BLI portrays fatherhood within the masculine domain. Being a father is never an easy job. That fatherhood is a difficult and challenging job is a common narrative used to construct articles on the topic of fatherhood. Framing fatherhood as a challenging thing to do, it is the archetypal man who believes, according to Kimmel (1994), that taking risks and facing challenges is a part of any truly masculine character. An article entitled 12 ways to become the ideal father (Ardiansyah, 2014) explicitly states, “Anyone can be a father, but it takes a real man to be a daddy.”

A (superior) father can also be measured by having a child of whom he can be proud – a great child, a smart child, a talented child, a child with academic achievements. Having a child the father can be proud of can help him to compete with others in order to be the epitome of the ideal father. A further article The Best Holiday for Family (Puji, 2014) explores expensive holiday destinations in foreign countries and literally encourages wealthy fathers to laugh at other fathers who cannot afford ‘classy’ vacations for their child.

Again, as with appearance and personal grooming, the superiority narrative works best together with Western ideas of masculinity. According to Kimmel (1994) and Messner (1994), masculinity is a ‘homosocial enactment.’ It is built upon men’s fear of the possibility of being considered ‘unmanly’ by other men. The logic therefore is that men need the acknowledgement of other men, in the form of appraisals and compliments for their masculinity. However, since being a father and a family man was kodrat for men in Indonesia, and fatherhood is assumed to be their natural destiny, there is no innate competition involved. Indonesia is a country in which collective sensitivities are paramount and modesty is highly valued. This has deep cultural roots, historically speaking, in the way masculinity has always been performed. Emotional self-restraint, demonstrating a high degree of self-regulation, and the performance of a discreet demeanor constituted the upper-class Javanese (priyayi) model of


masculinity. In his canonic work, Geertz (1961) reported the performance of royal, aristocratic and bureaucratic priyayi behavior during the pre-colonial period. Therefore, instead of showing aggressiveness and competitiveness in an explicit manner – a reference to Western masculinity – the father is expected to express a more restrained, mature, masculine behavior (Nilan, Donaldson & Howson, 2007).

Fatherhood as a masculine legacy

BLI portrays fatherhood as a means for men to teach their children overtly Western stereotypes of masculine behavior, such as critical thinking, logical thinking, problem solving, being responsible, being competitive, being rational, being confident, etc. That every father has the same noble purpose in this world – raising a healthy child; smart, highly educated, responsible and able to achieve success in his or her future – was a common narrative found in many of the sample magazines. Father as The Child’s Teacher of Life (Estri, 2012) is exemplary among articles that speak about the importance of educating children so that they demonstrate masculine characteristics. Most articles and pictures also illustrate the relationship between the man and his son, as a sign of his legacy. In addition, Like Father Like Son (Akhmad, 2014) explicitly uses a narrative about the son as the father’s generational successor. In all of these cases, fatherhood dealt noticeably more with a man’s legacy to his son rather than to his daughter. The primary aims of fatherhood are to ensure that his son inherits his masculine characteristics and that he might also share the same passions and hobbies.

Narratives of the family man were supported in the magazines through the transmission of explicit messages to the reader that men need to spend time with their children in order to build emotional attachments with them. However, it is also based on the belief that men (fathers) have a significant role to play in contributing to the shaping of their child’s character not least because the woman (mother) is subordinated. Moreover, the need for the father to play a significant role in the rearing of children is based on the assumption that a man has the ability to make better decisions in technical matters than a woman, for example when choosing a stroller. Generally speaking, these narratives completely overrule any power the woman may possess within the Indonesian family. Geertz (1961), Megawangi (1999), Clark (2004), and Handayani & Novianto (2004) have all commented upon the ultimate power of the wife with regard to her husband. However, the fact that BLI failed to communicate these local

Chapter One

12

values is not surprising since as a US-based publication, BLI is essentially always promoting the idea of the modern Western family.

Another article Detecting Dangerous Food Ingredients for Children (Ardiansyah, 2014) uses an illustrative story in which the father has small fights with the mother because their child got food poisoning. From the narration, purely by virtue of being the father, a man has the right to question the mother’s responsibility if the child becomes unwell. The father has a right to know whilst the mother as the primary caregiver has to take responsibility for any problems. Based on this logic, mothers need to defend themselves by providing the explanation whilst, as the breadwinner, the father merely needs to provide economic support for his family. Though both parents play their own significant roles in supporting the family, economic capital is seen as superior to any other form of capital. This Western cultural narrative privileges the father’s position. By acting as the sole economic provider, the father has more power in the family, and as such acts as the decision maker. Indeed, Hobson and Morgan (2002) argued that men’s authority in the family and male breadwinning sit at the core of masculinity politics in the West. Hence, when it comes to fatherhood, men become distant fathers and everything related to child rearing is the mother’s responsibility because it is considered unmanly.

Father as The Guru of Life

The Indonesian notion of fatherhood is also firmly rooted in the idea of the father as the one who sets the example for his children. In her anthropological study Geertz (1961) supported this notion of the father’s responsibility in leading his family. The same idea is also strongly supported by BKKBN (2015) – a government organization which focuses on the family – with their recent campaign about 8 fungsi keluarga (eight family functions). In its campaign BKKBN emphasizes the husband’s duties in persevering, leading and guiding his family both emotionally and materially. Moreover, according to Silverstein (1996), historically fathers have been responsible not only for the economic support of the family but also for their children’s religious, moral and vocational training. The same narrative is echoed through Best Life Indonesia’s discourse of fatherhood. Teaching the values and the principals of life, being a child’s role model, and passing down the philosophical meaning of life were seen as the father’s tasks in raising his child. The article Father as The Child’s Teacher of Life (Estri, 2012) told the story about the father as a wise figure – each and every one of his words was reliable. This is because the


father’s words are based on his life experience as the head of the family, a husband for his wife and a father for his children.

Although BLI supported the idea of the father as the guru of life, at the same time it constantly promotes the idea that only a successful man is able to be the guru of his child´s life: by being successful, men have the ability to inspire and be role models for their children. Moreover, the BLI´s idea of what represents a successful man is very much Western-oriented. In BLI successful men are defined as middle class, with high rank or status in their jobs or as wealthy men who can afford luxury products such as branded strollers, expensive gifts, and holidays in foreign countries or exotic places.

Conclusion

As a patriarchal country, Indonesia has a strong male-as-breadwinner tradition. Men are expected to become fathers and be family-oriented. Indeed, the state explicitly regulates man’s responsibility to provide a livelihood for his wife and children. Therefore, men are expected to give all of their income to their wives to demonstrate their responsibility towards their family. The importance of the family in Indonesian society is also shown through the ways in which the government provides statutes which govern and discuss the family as a social institution, including men’s duties as husbands and fathers. Furthermore, being a father is a man’s way to acquire status in the eyes of his own father or other males. Masculinity is measured in the way men perform their responsibilities towards their wives and children, not only by investing their economic capital but also by dedicating quality time to their families. However, the global expansion of Western media discourse has changed these notions of masculinity. Masculinity rooted in fatherhood, founded by the institution of fatherhood, or heavily dependent on ideologies of fatherhood, fatherhood that is rooted within traditional Indonesian concepts of masculinity now finds itself in a transitional phase. Men’s lifestyle magazines, which as demonstrated here, contribute to the changing meaning of contemporary Indonesian masculinity, apparently no longer consider fatherhood as a big part of men’s lifestyle. When magazines decide to run editorials on the topic of fatherhood, instead of perpetuating the Indonesian notion of masculinity, they choose to infuse the Western notion thereof. For the proponents of media imperialism it might be one of many possible proofs of global narratives of westernization. For the proponents of cultural hybridity, it might be another way to show transculturation as a contemporary condition. Either way, this study

Chapter One

14

demonstrates the correlation between the universalization of Western perspectives and homogenization.

Works Cited

Blackwood, E. “Tombois in West Sumatra: Constructing masculinities and erotic desire.” Cultural Anthropology 13(4) (1998), 491-521.

BKKBN, Menghidupkan 8 Fungsi Keluarga Menuju Keluarga Sejahtera, 2015, Accessed 24 February 2016, http://bpmppkb.balikpapan.go.id/detail/artikel/9/menghidupkan-8-fungsi-keluarga-menuju-keluarga-sejahtera.

BPS, Kewarganegaraan, Suku Bangsa, Agama, dan Bahasa Sehari-hari Penduduk Indonesia: Hasil Sensus Penduduk 2010, Badan Pusat Statistik: Jakarta, Indonesia, 2011.

Budiman, H, Lubang Hitam Kebudayaan, Kanisius: Yogjakarta, 2002. Coltrane, S, “Father-child relationships and the status of women: a cross-

cultural study.” American Journal of Sociology, Vol. 93, No. 5 (Mar., 1988), pp. 1060-1095.

Clark, M. “Men, Masculinities and Symbolic Violence in Recent Indonesian Cinema.” Journal of Southeast Asian Studies 35(1) (2004), 113-131.

Crewe, L. & Goodrum, A. “Fashioning New Forms of Consumption.” InFashion Cultures: Theories, Explorations and analysis (eds. Bruzzi, S. and Gibson, P.C), Routledge: New York, 2000.

Connell, R.W. Masculinities 2nd edition, University of California Press: Berkeley, California, 2005.

Drummond, M., and Drummond, C. “It’s all about the six-pack: Boys’ bodies in contemporary Western culture.” Journal of Child Health Care, 1-9, 2014.

Dzwonkowska-Godula, K. & Brzezinska, J. “Gender relations in family-equal parenting.” In Women’s Choices in Europe. (eds. C. Quaiser-Pohl and M. Endepohls-Ulpe). Waxmann: Munster, 2012.

Engels, F. The Origin of The Family, Private Property and The State. New York: International publishers, [1891] 1978.

Frank, E. “Groomers and Consumers: The Meaning of Male Body Depilation to a Modern Masculinity Body Project.” Men and Masculinities, 17(3) (2014), 278-298. Hofstede, G., Hofstede, G.J., and Minkov, M. Cultures and Organizations: Software of the Mind,. Revised and Expanded 3rd Edition., McGraw-Hill, 2010.

Geertz, H. The Javanese family: a study of kinship and socialization. New York: Free Press of Glencoe, 1961.


Graham, S. “Negotiating gender: calalai’ in Bugis society.” Intersections: Gender, History and Culture in The Asian Context, issue 6, 2001.

Handayani, C.S. and Novianto, A. Kuasa Wanita Jawa, Yogjakarta: LKiS, 2004.

Hill, D.T., and Sen, K. The Internet in Indonesia’s New Democracy. New York: Routledge, 2005.

Hobson, B., and Morgan, D. “Introduction: Making Men into Fathers.” In Making Men Into Fathers: Men, Masculinities and The Social Politics of Fatherhood. (ed. B. Hobson), Cambridge University Press: Cambridge, 2002.

Jankowski, G.S., Fawkner, H., Slater, A., Tiggeman, M. “Appearance Potent? A Content Analysis of UK Gay and Straight Men’s Magazines.” Body Image, 11(4) 2014, 474-481.

Jay, R.R. Javanese Villagers: Social Relations in Rural Modjokuto. Cambridge, Mass: MIT Press, 1969.

Kimmel, M.S. “Masculinity as Homophobia. Fear, Shame, and Silence in the Construction of Gender Identity.” In Theorizing Masculinities, eds. H. Brod, M. Kaufman, London: Sage Publication, 1994.

Koentjaraningrat, Javanese Culture, Singapore: Oxford University Press, 1985.

Lasminah, U. “Dekonstruksi, rekonstruksi sosial: film dan pesan-pesan tersurat.” UltimArt 3(1), 2001.

Machin, D. and Leeuwen, T.V. Global Media Discourse: A Critical Introduction. Routledge: London, 2007.

Megawangi, R. “The Javanese family.” In Strengthening The Family- Implications for International Development, eds. M.F. Zeitlin, R. Megawangi, E. M. Kramer, N.D. Colletta, et al., Tokyo: United Nations University Press, 1995.

Megawangi, R. Membiarkan Berbeda: Sudut Pandang Baru Tentang Relasi Gender. Mizan: Yogjakarta, 1999.

Prianti, D.D. “Critical discourse analysis on the ideal type of modern women.” In Indonesia International Conference on Communication (IndoICC) 2012 Proceeding: Communication, Context and Community. Departemen Ilmu Komunikasi, FISIP, Universitas Indonesia, 2012.

Rogers, R.A. “From cultural exchange to transculturation: a review and reconceptualization of cultural appropriation.” Communication Theory, 476-503, 2006.

Nilan, P. “Contemporary masculinities and young men in Indonesia.” In Indonesia and The Malay World 37:109, 2009, 327-344. Nilan, P.,

Chapter One

16

Donaldson, M., and Howson, R. “Indonesian muslim masculinities in Australia.” Australia, Asian Social Science 3(9), 2007, 18-27.

Nixon, S. “Exibiting masculinity.” In Representation 2nd edition, eds. S. Hall, J. Evans, S. Nixo. London: SAGE Publications, 2013.

Nugroho, Y., Putri, D.A and Laksmi, S. “Mapping the Landscape of the Media Industry in Contemporary Indonesia.” In Report Series. Engaging Media, Empowering Society: Assessing media policy and governance in Indonesia through the lens of citizens’ rights. Jakarta: Centre for Innovation Policy and Governance, 2012.

Peacock, J. Indonesia: An Anthropological Perspective. Calif: Goodyear Publishing Co, 1973.

Saptari, R. “Networks of Reproduction among Cigarette Factory Women in East Java.” In Women and Households in Indonesia: Cultural Notions and Social Practices (eds.), Juliette, K., Marleen, N., Janet, R., Ratna, S. Curzon Press: Richmond, 2000.

Scherrer, A.R. “Attitudes Toward the Non-Traditional Male Role,” Honors Theses, Paper 309, 1990.

Silverstein, L.B. Fathering is A Feminist Issue, Psychology of Women Quarterly 20. 3-37, 1996.

Stoler, A., “Class structure and female autonomy in rural Java.” In Changing Modes of Production, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1977.

Notes

1 Directorate General of Higher Education (DGHE) of Indonesia’s grant funded this research. 2 BPS stands for Badan Pusat Statistik. Statistics Indonesia is a non-governmental organization which is directly responsible to the president. Its main activities are undertaking population, agricultural and economic censuses as well as statistical surveys. 3 The word emansipasi perempuan (women’s emancipation) was popular in Indonesia during late 1980s. Women indeed constitute a part of Indonesia’s political agenda. Since 1978 the Indonesian government has a minister who focuses specifically on women’s empowerment. 4 The Javanese tribe is the largest and most prominent tribe in Indonesia. 5 Despite the chaos and demonstrations demanding Soeharto’s resignation in 1998, to a certain extent he is still loved and missed by some Indonesians. 6 Bahasa Indonesia is the official language of Indonesia

CHAPTER TWO

FATHER MANAGERS (UN)DOING TRADITIONAL MASCULINITY

EMILIA KANGAS ANNA-MAIJA LÄMSÄ

SUVI HEIKKINEN

Introduction Although there has been some advancement in the general atmosphere in society towards a more committed and participatory fatherhood, many organizations still tend to operate under the traditional masculine assumption where the norm is that fatherhood should not interfere with work (Bleijenbergh et al. 2013). In this article we argue that it is particularly important for men who are managers to understand the meaning of fatherhood. This is because managers – the majority of whom are men (The Global Gender Gap Report 2015) – are in a position to create new organizational cultures (Schein 1985) which also take family responsibilities into account. It could help to enable men (and also women) to integrate their work and family spheres successfully and advance their wellbeing and quality of life (Hobson 2011). In order to accomplish gender equality in their public and private roles, men should have the opportunity to bring changes into their work, allowing them to devote themselves more to family life (Kaufman and Bernhardt 2015).

The purpose of our study is to conceptualize how male managers construct their fatherhood. We are especially interested in whether they follow the expectations of the traditional masculine ideology of fatherhood, or whether they have adopted more recent ideas of participatory fatherhood. Using a discourse analysis approach, we conducted an empirical study to answer the main research question: What kind of discourses do father managers construct of their fatherhood? Our

Chapter Two

18

more specific questions are: What kind of gender order do father managers produce in the discourses? How do they construct the relationship between fatherhood and leadership work? Hence, our research combines the discussions of masculine leadership and fatherhood with the discussion of men’s changing gender roles.

Generally, the questions of the family–work relationship have been associated almost exclusively with women in employment (Özbilgin et al. 2011). Male managers, in contrast, are mainly viewed as beneficial financial actors in organizational life, whereas their fatherhood tends to remain invisible in organizations (Tracy and Rivera 2010). Burnett et al. (2013) even used the term “ghost” to describe the invisibility of the father in the context of the organization. Such a tradition and practice not only reduces women’s opportunities to advance in their careers, but prevents men from understanding their own rights as equal parents also in the work sphere. Still, devoting more time to their domestic responsibilities is not unproblematic for male managers who have children; instead, it may be a source of contradiction due to the competing demands of work and home (Hearn and Niemistö 2012). Fathers who are inclined towards the new fatherhood ideology have to struggle to resolve the tension between this new ideology and the expectation to conform to the traditional male manager model (Sallee 2012).

The context of this empirical study is Finland, a country with relatively high gender equality in its societal standards and norms (The Global Gender Gap Report 2015). However, from the perspective of the work–family relationship, the statistics tell another story: although there is an extensive system of public childcare to encourage full-time work for both spouses, Finnish women still carry the main responsibility for domestic work and taking care of the children (Heikkinen et al. 2014). Despite the legal opportunities for parental leaves, they are used almost exclusively by mothers; in fact, Finnish men rank low among their Nordic counterparts in their interest to use parental leaves (Pietiläinen 2013).

Theoretical background

This article draws upon the theory of “doing gender.” According to the theory, gender is done through social practices (West and Zimmerman 1987), such as discourses, which both shape social orders and are shaped by them (Connell 2000; Connell and Messerschmidt 2005). The ideas of masculinity and femininity are constructed in a process which produces gender order: formal and informal arrangements that define the complex and changing patterns of gender relations in a particular context (Connell

Father Managers (Un)Doing Traditional Masculinity 19

2000). The male breadwinner model follows the traditional gender order where the man is the primary breadwinner while the woman has main responsibility for the family. Thus, the notion of involved fathering clashes with the dominant cultural ideals of traditional masculinity (Wall and Arnold 2007). Doing gender means that gender is performed in interactions wherein people express their social identities and gender roles – identities and roles that are more or less learned and for the most part learned unconsciously (West and Zimmerman 1987). Similarly, organizations and their practices allow or constrain certain roles and identities for their members. Fatherhood needs to be understood as a historically constructed institution that is maintained, and perhaps challenged, by the prevailing social and cultural practices and expectations, and by state law (Hearn and Niemistö 2012).

One way of scrutinizing the masculine world is to view it through the concept of hegemonic masculinity. The concept embodies the most valued way of being a man and demands that all other men position themselves in relation to it (Connell and Messerschmidt 2005). So, there is a hierarchy between masculinities: some are more valued than others, some are marginalized. For example, men holding leadership positions are typically assumed to position themselves according to the traditional breadwinner model of masculinity. Even though hegemonic masculinities can be constructed without a real correspondence to the lives of any actual men, such masculinities do reflect widespread ideals and desires in specific social and cultural contexts (Connell and Messerschmidt 2005). Despite the fact that fathers are by no means a homogeneous group, it may be hard for them to escape the dominant discourses and their normative cultural meanings concerning fatherhood (Miller 2011).

In the traditional gender order, men are predominantly viewed as the primary breadwinners and women as the primary caregivers. However, recent research suggests that a new kind of more caring and active fatherhood is emerging in Western societies, at least in the general discourses of contemporary fatherhood (Miller 2011). Eräranta and Moisander (2011) note that fatherhood nowadays tends to be organized around two competing parenting styles: “manly fathering” and “involved fathering.” Manly fathering refers to the father who stands his ground as a moral authority and master of the household. This type of fatherhood is based on a clear dichotomy between gender roles: the male as breadwinner and the female as homemaker. Involved fathering, on the other hand, constructs a more flexible form of fatherhood, highlighting shared parenthood and a dual-earner family structure.

Chapter Two

20

Johansson and Klinth (2008) claim that the hegemony of traditional masculinity is in transition and a new kind of fatherhood is developing. Whereas men were earlier encouraged to help their spouses in parenting, they are now increasingly expected to take part in parenting even-handedly. Although fathers are likely to assume more childcare responsibilities, they may tend to engage only in the more pleasant tasks of parenting, such as playing sports with the children and participating in their outdoor activities (Craig 2006). Meanwhile, women continue to take care of the remaining responsibilities at home (Johansson and Klinth 2008). Men’s opportunity to choose the more convenient role in parenting can be regarded as a significant form of power. Hence, fatherhood can be elective, but motherhood is a social duty (Vuori 2009).

Holter (2007) sees two models of change in fatherhood: the “new man” and “new circumstances.” The former is an ideological change model, where the new man stands firmly for equality between the sexes. The new circumstances model, in turn, is a practical change model which does not assume any true change in men’s attitudes. Rather, the change results from a change in circumstances – for instance, from women’s urge to establish a more equal relationship. Holter argues that the new circumstances model is predominant, and the melting away of the father’s breadwinner role is a product of women’s changed demands, expectations and wants. According to Holter, the main obstacle to the development of equality and more flexible gender roles is a failure to recognize the often implicit gender present in organizational structures and practices. This organizational gender may draw its values from the traditional gender order model, even though the ideological environment around work life is changing.

Kugelberg (2006) and Holter (2007) argue that being marked as a caring father poses a risk in the organizational context, because it can lead to being cast into the same “basket of trouble” as mothers in organizations. Even if individuals may be loosening their stereotypical attitudes, it seems that organizational values, structures and practices continue to maintain the traditional stereotypes of gender roles and relations. Consequently, many male managers in organizations are likely to try to meet the traditional expectations. According to Hearn and Niemistö (2012), for example, father managers make a very clear distinction between their private and public lives.

Methodology

In this study we apply a critical discourse analysis approach, where discourse is understood as a relatively integrated system of meanings


constructed in language use (Fairclough 1997). We are interested in how the fatherhood of father managers is brought discursively into being (Parker 1992). Discourses are not permanent, however, but dependent on time and place. So, even if the male manager is constructed discursively around the notions of the traditional gender order as free from home responsibilities, it does not mean that this view is not undergoing a process of reorganization.

Discourse analysis is a methodological approach aimed at uncovering how social reality is produced (Hardy et al. 2004). Fairclough (1995) describes critical discourse analysis (CDA) as a method which examines how discourses contribute to the construction of macro structures, such as gender order. He argues that social arrangements involve embedded ideological discursive formations, one of which often dominates – like the discourse of traditional masculinity in the managerial world. The dominant discourse has the capacity to “naturalize” ideologies so that they come to be accepted as self-evident common sense. The main objective of CDA is to open or denaturalize such natural ideologies (Fairclough 1992).

For this study we interviewed 29 Finnish father managers aged between 37 and 67. Their total work experience ranged from 11 to 41 years. All of them were or had been in a leadership position for relatively long periods of time. The interviewed managers had one to six children (mean 2.4), and most of them lived with their children or had lived with them when they were small. The men were all in heterosexual relationships, but some were now divorced from the mother of their children.

Results

Based on our analysis of the interviews, we distinguished four fatherhood discourses. These were interpreted as the discourses of “breadwinner fatherhood,” “uncommitted fatherhood,” “best bits of fatherhood,” and “hands-on fatherhood.” The discourses are presented below.

Breadwinner fatherhood

This fatherhood discourse sees the man’s role as the breadwinner of the family. It is the most dominant discourse in our data. Fatherhood is constructed following the traditional gender order, where the husband has the primary breadwinner role in the family and the wife is primarily in charge of the children and the household. This distinction between the spouses’ gender roles is a significant feature of the breadwinner discourse. Its aim is to strengthen and maintain the traditional masculine ideology.

Chapter Two

22

The issue that respondents raise as the most important is their demanding leadership work, but they scarcely talk of their responsibilities at home. The idea of caring and active fatherhood is not present in the discourse; instead, fatherhood is represented as distant and patriarchal. The man’s work and his leadership career are the cornerstones which determine his life, and the family is expected to adapt to the father’s work demands. Respondents make a point of stressing their wives’ unwillingness to pursue careers of their own. Thus, the wife is constructed as a woman who voluntarily adjusts her life to her husband’s career. Nothing is said about the children’s adjustment to their father’s work demands; this is regarded as self-evident so as not to be a topic of discussion at all. In general, respondents underline the satisfaction and meaning they derive from their leadership work and admit being work-centred; some even described themselves as “workaholics.”

According to this discourse, it is the man’s duty to ensure a good living standard for his family. One manager highlights this as follows: “And the kids also gain advantage out of this… sometimes when they want to go somewhere I’ll buy the tickets for them. So that’s how they benefit from all this.”

Fatherhood is constructed in the breadwinner discourse mainly in a holiday setting and in connection with recreational activities with the children. Holidays have an important meaning as compensation to the children for the father’s constant absence from family life. Respondents acknowledge their insufficiency as fathers and make up for it with the help of special fun events that differ from everyday tasks and routines.

In this discourse, there is no intimacy between father and child, only between mother and child. Even though respondents claim that having children is important for them, they talk about watching the children grow up, not about living and spending time with them. A more active father’s role is considered possible once the children are older and able to have discussions with their father. However, respondents also express regrets about not having participated more in their children’s life while they were small. They feel it will no longer be easy to build a closer relationship after the children have grown up.

Although these breadwinner fathers underline that their leadership work requires a lot from them and admit that their presence at home with the family is scarce, they also express their appreciation of the family as a social institution. A central theme is the husband’s high regard for the wife’s significant role in the family. She is valued as the one who alone bears the main responsibility for the children and the family. In fact, domestic work is almost completely outsourced from the man in this


discourse, but the possibility of a minor role for him as a helper with household chores is nevertheless acknowledged.

Finally, no bridge is built between the man’s fatherhood and his leadership work in this discourse. Fatherhood does not affect his leadership duties, and vice versa. It can be said that the breadwinner fatherhood discourse produces a very traditional idea of leadership which draws a clear line between the father manager’s domestic and professional spheres.

Uncommitted fatherhood

In this fatherhood discourse, the man’s relationship with his children is distant and uncommitted. A key theme is his scarce presence at home and his detachment from his children. Contrary to breadwinner fatherhood, here respondents voice no regrets about not being present in their children’s life. Instead, the man’s absence from and uncommitment to his family are seen as the normal practice.

As in breadwinner fatherhood, the centrality of the man’s work and his leadership career are at the core of the uncommitted fatherhood discourse. The discourse constructs a reality where the man’s real life consists of his working career. It upholds the traditional gender order by arguing that a man’s priority in life lies in making a career, not in taking care of the children or the household. One respondent describes this in the following way: “You have these fathers who drive their kids to the ice hockey rink or somewhere five or six days a week. Well, that’s something I never did.”

Despite some similarities between the discourses of uncommitted fatherhood and breadwinner fatherhood, there is one major difference. The uncommitted fatherhood discourse presents the wife as equally career-oriented as her husband, in sharp contrast to the breadwinner father’s wife, who gives up her own career to support her husband’s career. Indeed, the gender relations between spouses are produced as rather parallel in the career context: both partners have and should have an equal opportunity in work life. The discourse thereby challenges the traditional gender order in the context of work by regarding the dual-earner model as the ordinary way of life.

In this discourse, like in the previous one, fatherhood and leadership are represented as two distinctly separate spheres with no connection between them. The uncommitted fatherhood discourse contains no reference to the man’s work family balance or his responsibilities towards the children and the household. Despite questioning the traditional gender

Chapter Two

24

order to the extent that women can participate fully in work life and create a career for themselves, the discourse does not contest the traditional model in the domestic sphere. In fact, it assigns a double burden to the father manager’s wife: she is positioned as responsible not only for her working career but also for the household. There is no notion of shared parenting present in the discourse. So, paradoxically, challenging the traditional gender order in one sphere of life does not result in equality between the spouses in other life spheres. The man obviously wins in terms of workload compared to the woman in the uncommitted fatherhood discourse.

Best bits of fatherhood

In this discourse, the father-manager’s children occupy a significant place in his life. An important theme is the birth of a child and how it changes the man’s life: becoming a father makes him settle down and be willing to find compromises in his career to better meet the requirements of family life. The discourse claims that the man’s more involved fatherhood results from a new circumstance in his social environment. However, the meaning of fatherhood is not constructed merely as a practical change arising from the new family arrangements, but as an attitudinal change towards a close relationship with the child. This discourse represents the father manager as a man who genuinely cares for his children.

Even though the father’s involvement is at the core of this discourse, the manner in which his fatherhood is produced is one-sided. Respondents speak about the positive effect of children on their life, but fail to mention doing any concrete childcare tasks at home. For example, one father makes this joking remark about childcare:

On the one hand, sure, it’s fine for the woman to stay home to care for the child, so why not for the man, too? Like I’ve been saying, now that my wife’s childcare leave is coming to an end after she’s been home for three years… well, I reckon I’ll spend the next three years playing and singing with our boy Lauri.

In this discourse, the father appears to participate mainly in the more pleasant elements of parenting, whereas it is the mother who takes charge of the rest. Taking part in the children’s hobbies and outdoor activities is constructed as a key part of fatherhood. Yet, despite their involvement in the fun sides of parenting, respondents display a tendency to miss the more traditional gender order.


Consequently, although the spouses’ more flexible gender roles in family life in this discourse challenge the traditional gender order to some extent, it is still the husband, not the wife, who is the elective parent. In other words, fatherhood is constructed as parenthood where the man has the option to choose the aspects that he finds most convenient. The idea of equal parenting, where all childcare and domestic tasks are shared by both parents, is absent from this discourse. The man is actually represented as more oriented to his children in his attitudes and practices rather than oriented to gender equality with his wife.

This discourse also produces an affiliation between fatherhood and leadership work, as the father manager, at least to some degree, seeks to combine his work and family spheres. The work family relationship is typically constructed so that it is the man’s fatherhood that affects his leadership. Fatherhood is seen as a beneficial resource for the manager’s professional career, because he can learn things from fatherhood that can be put to use in his work. The value of fatherhood, thus, is mainly instrumental in the man’s work context.

Hands-on fatherhood

This discourse refers to a new kind of fatherhood, which is more present and more committed. The discourse produces the father as an active and caring parent. His close, intimate relationship with his children is a central theme, which stresses his genuine desire to be present as fully as possible in his children’s life.

The construction of fatherhood in this discourse resembles traditional motherhood, both in terms of the relationship with the children and with childcare practices. The relationship involves nurturing and caring and a deep emotional connection, all of which are considered as crucial for genuine fatherhood. In this discourse, the man is capable and willing to reflect on his fatherhood; consequently, his active role in caring for and raising the children is represented as an outcome of conscious reflection. The father takes part in everyday childcare and household chores and routines. The discourse presents him as a partner who shares the care and domestic tasks with his spouse as an active and responsible parent in the family.

Respondents underline the importance of integrating their work and family spheres. They describe various changes and decisions made in their careers for the sake of their family, as in the following example:

Chapter Two

26

But that’s the reason I asked to leave my job at SOK, because there was too much… it involved more than a hundred days of travel per year, so almost every week I’d spend one or two nights away from home. That was… it didn’t feel good when the kids were small, and so I switched to a job with less traveling.

The hands-on fatherhood discourse constructs the father as a man who can and does make career choices on account of his family. In this discourse, it is the man’s career, not the family, which adapts. Children and family come first in the man’s life; his work and his leadership career take second place. Respondents using this discourse generally feel they have succeeded in combining their work and family life. They talk about confronting the same demands of everyday life as their spouses, but express no feelings of guilt or pressure in balancing their public and private spheres. Hence, there is no work family conflict present in this discourse. Both spouses have the opportunity for a working career, which demonstrates their flexibility in sharing their parenting responsibilities.

Respondents highlight the connection between their fatherhood and leadership work, pointing out many similar elements in them, such as fairness and caring for others, for example. Moreover, they claim that fatherhood has increased their sensitivity towards employees who are parents. In sum, the hands-on discourse questions and reorganizes the traditional gender order by constructing fluid and flexible gender roles and relations both at home and at work. It presents a shared parenthood where the spouses are equally involved in and committed to parenthood in the work and the family context.

Discussion and conclusion

Male managers are in a position to exert a significant influence on organizational culture, such as its values and norms concerning work family policy and practices. However, their perspectives on such issues have rarely been reported in prior research, as pointed out by several scholars (e.g. Tracy and Rivera 2010; Özbilgin et al. 2011; Burnett et al. 2013). Our results from the studied Finnish context indicate that father managers continue to construct their fatherhood mainly by drawing on the traditional masculine ideology. Indeed, the dominant discourse in this study was that of breadwinner fatherhood, where the man is the primary breadwinner in the family, and his work and family are more or less separate areas of his life. Maintaining a distance to childcare and household work seems to be a way of “doing fatherhood” which helps the


man to identify albeit often unconsciously with the highly valued group of males in leading positions in organizations.

However, the hands-on and best bits of fatherhood discourses in our study suggest that the construction of fatherhood among male managers may be undergoing some reorganization towards more participatory fatherhood. We can say, in line with Miller (2011), that these father managers do gender differently than it would be traditionally expected. Men who are able to free themselves from the bounds of traditional ideology and practices are potential creators of new organizational cultures, where the private and public lives of both men and women are integrated. Organizational cultures merit more research from this viewpoint in the future.

Our results are in partial agreement with Eräranta and Moisander’s (2011) model of two competing fatherhoods: manly fathering and involved fathering. But, contrary to their results, our findings imply that conceptualization of only two fatherhoods may be oversimplified. Instead of understanding the relationship between fatherhood and leadership work as an either/or dichotomy, we suggest that more than two meaningful realities are possible. While Eräranta and Moisander’s model captures the breadwinner and hands-on fatherhood discourses of our study, we were able to conceptualize two other discourses: the best bits of fatherhood discourse and the uncommitted fatherhood discourse. These can be positioned between the two other discourses in terms of how gender is done in the family and the work context.

Hearn and Niemistö (2012) argue that father managers tend to make a clear division between their private and public lives. Our results lend some support for their argument. Such a tendency was observed in the breadwinner and uncommitted fatherhood discourses, whereas the other two discourses show little evidence in its favour. The best bits and hands-on fatherhood discourses build a clear relationship between fatherhood and leadership work, but the nature of the relationship is different. In the former, fatherhood tends to follow the father’s own preferences, whereas the hands-on discourse constructs fatherhood on the same regulatory realities of everyday life as motherhood. Hence, it challenges the traditional gender roles and proposes an alternative gender order, potentially contributing to men being seen as equal parents in the context of work life.

Finally, our results differ from the findings of Kugelberg (2006) and Holter (2007) concerning the risk involved in being marked as a caring father in the organizational context. We detected no such tendency; rather, the caring father respondents in our study described their work–family

Chapter Two

28

relationships in positive terms. One noteworthy reason for their favourable view can be that, as managers with a powerful position in organizational life, they have a better chance to define a flexible work–family relationship for themselves than male employees with less influence. Yet, the positive tone of the best bits and hands-on fathers can imply that the door for more participatory fatherhood is opening in organizational life.

A limitation of this study is that we focus only on heterosexual white men in leadership positions, who can be considered to represent a dominant group of men. Future research should, therefore, address the fatherhood of other groups of men in organizations. Nonetheless, we believe our study sheds some light on the fairly new research topic of male managers’ fatherhood. We conclude that the ideology of hegemonic masculinity, which draws upon traditional gender roles, may be undergoing a process of some, though perhaps slow, transformation among Finnish male managers.

This research was part of the programme Equality in Society (WeAll project) by strategic research funding of the Academy of Finland. We gratefully acknowledge their support.

Works Cited

Bleijenbergh, Inge L., Marloes L. van Engen, and Claartje J. Vinkenburg. “Othering women: fluid images of the ideal academic.” Equality, Diversity and Inclusion: An International Journal 32: 22–35, 2012.

Burnett, Simon. B., Caroline. J. Gatrell, Cary Cooper, and Paul Sparrow. “Fathers at Work: A Ghost in the Organizational Machine.” Gender, Work & Organization 20: 632–646, 2013.

Connell, Robert W. The Men and the Boys. Cambridge: Polity, 2000. Connell, Robert W., and James W. Messerschmidt. “Hegemonic Masculinity:

Rethinking the Concept.” Gender & Society 19: 829–859, 2005 Craig, Lyn. “Does father care mean fathers share? A comparison of how

mothers and fathers in intact families spend time with children.” Gender & Society 20: 259–281, 2006.

Eräranta, Kirsi, and Johanna Moisander. “Psychological Regimes of Truth and Father Identity: Challenges for Work/Life Integration.” Organization Studies 32: 509–526, 2011.

Fairclough, Norman. Discourse and Social Change. Cambridge: Polity Press, 1992.

—. Critical Discourse Analysis: The Critical Study of Language. London: Longman, 1995.

—. Miten media puhuu. Jyväskylä: Gummerus Kirjapaino Oy, 1997.


Hardy, Cynthia. “Researching organizational discourse.” International Studies of Management & Organization: 25–47, 2001.

Hearn, Jeff, and Charlotta Niemistö. “Men, ‘Father Managers’, and Home–Work Relations: Complexities and Contradictions in National Policy, Corporations, and Individual Lives.” In Men, Wage Work and Family, edited by P. McDonald and E. Jeanes. Routledge. 95–113, 2012.

Heikkinen, Suvi, Anna-Maija Lämsä and Minna Hiillos. “Narratives by women managers about spousal support for their careers.” Scandinavian Journal of Management 30: 27 39, 2014.

Hobson, Barbara. “The Agency Gap in Work–Life Balance: Applying Sen’s Capabilities Framework within European Contexts.” Social Politics: International Studies in Gender, State & Society 18.2: 147–167, 2011.

Holter, Øystein G. “Men's work and family reconciliation in Europe.” Men and Masculinities 9: 425–456, 2007.

Johansson, Thomas, and Roger Klinth. “Caring fathers: The ideology of gender equality and masculine positions.” Men and Masculinities 11: 42–62, 2007.

Kaufman, Gayle, and Eva Bernhardt. “Gender, work and childbearing: couple analysis of work adjustments after the transition to parenthood.” Community, Work & Family 18: 1–18, 2012.

Kugelberg, Clarissa. “Constructing the Deviant Other: Mothering and Fathering at the Workplace.” Gender, Work & Organization 13: 152–173, 2006.

Miller, Tina. Making Sense of Fatherhood: Gender, Caring and Work. Cambridge University Press, 2011.

Pietiläinen, Marjut, editor. Työ, talous ja tasa-arvo. Statistics Finland, 2013.

Sallee, Margaret W. “The Ideal Worker or the Ideal Father: Organizational Structures and Culture in the Gendered University.” Research in Higher Education 53: 782–802, 2012.

Schein, Edgar H. 1985. Organizational Culture and Leadership. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.

Tracy, Sarah J., and Kendra Dyanne Rivera. “Endorsing equity and applauding stay-at-home moms: How male voices on work–life reveal aversive sexism and flickers of transformation.” Management Communication Quarterly 24: 3–43, 2009.

Vuori, Jaana. “Men’s Choices and Masculine Duties: Fathers in Expert Discussion.” Men and Masculinities 12, 1: 45–72, 2007.

Chapter Two

30

Wall, Glenda, and Stephanie Arnold. “How involved is involved fathering? An exploration of the contemporary culture of fatherhood.” Gender & Society 21: 508–527, 2007.

West, Candace, and Don H. Zimmerman. “Doing gender.” Gender & Society 1: 125–151, 1987.

Özbilgin, Mustafa T., T.A. Beauregard, Ahu Tatli and Myrtle P. Bell. “Work–Life, Diversity and Intersectionality: A Critical Review and Research Agenda.” International Journal of Management Reviews: 177–198, 2011.

CHAPTER THREE

VISIONS OF FATHERHOOD OF YOUNG HOMOSEXUAL AND BISEXUAL MEN

IN LITHUANIA

LINA ŠUMSKAIT

Introduction American sociologist William Marsiglio (2003) disclosed that it was possible to enhance young mens’ consciousness about their procreative identity by conducting in-depth interviews and focus groups. W. Marsiglio with Sally Hutchinson analysed data from 70 interviews with 16-30-year-old men and formulated recommendations for professionals and health specialists on how to talk with young men about their procreative lives. W. Marsiglio created a concept of procreative consciousness that

captures the varied ways men cognitively and emotionally experience being aware of their ability to create life. Perhaps the most important way this consciousness is expressed involves men’s experiences with responsibility issues related to procreation and prospective fatherhood (Marsiglio 2003:229). In the US and other western countries, where adoption of children by

homosexual people is legislated, the number of homosexual parents increases. In 2010, the census showed that over 600,000 homosexual couples and aproximately 115,000 children under 18 years of ages were living together as families. When single homosexual parents who were raising children, were added, around 2 million children were being raised by homosexual parents (Pediatrics 2013: 828). Therefore, homosexual parents cannot be left unnoticed.

In 2013, The American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) published a political statement, which supports all children having access to their

Chapter Three

32

biological parents, foster and adoptive parents regardless of their sexual orientation:

Children need secure and enduring relationships with committed and nurturing adults to enhance their life experiences for optimal social-emotional and cognitive development. Scienti�c evidence af�rms that children have similar developmental and emotional needs and receive similar parenting whether they are raised by parents of the same or different genders. If a child has two living and capable parents, who choose to create a permanent bond by way of civil marriage, it is in the best interests of their child(ren) (Pediatrics 2013:827). Scientific research reveals that no significant differences in behaviour

and psychosocial development were noticed between children who grew up with homosexual or heterosexual parents (Goldberg, Smith 2013; Patterson 2000; Tasker 2005). Most of the studies were conducted among female homosexuals and single mothers, because homosexual men seldom raise children. Longitudinal studies also reveal that no significant differences were noticed in the sexual orientation of young adults who grew up with homosexual or heterosexual mothers (Golombok, Tasker 1996; Tasker 1999, Golombok et al. 1997). More often, children's risky behaviours were noticed in single-parent families. It is recognized that children's behavioral issues are driven more by social problems such as: poverty, parental substance abuse, violence, conflicts in the family, rather than the parents' sexual orientation.

Judith Stacey and Timothy J. Biblartz (2001) analyzed 21 case studies of children having homosexual parents, their psychosocial development, and political discussions at the end of the twentieth century regarding adoption rights in homosexual families in the US, and came to a conclusion that heterosexism made a negative impact on the scientific research in this field. J. Stacey and T. J. Biblartz asserted that even the studies which supported homosexual parents' rights to raise children were designed from a defensive position, holding the heterosexual family as an ideal form of family and advocating homosexual parents and their children as being “normal.” Victoria Clarke and Celia Kitzinger (2004), who analyzed 26 TV shows on homosexual parenthood aired between 1990 and 2001, came to the same conclusion. They noticed that homosexual parents were shown as replicating a heteronormative template of a “regular“ family. For example: the childrens‘ heterosexual orientation and their clothes matching gender norms were used as a proof that homosexual parents have no negative influence on their childrens‘ psychosexual development. If some adults were gay and they happened to grow up in a

Visions of Fatherhood of Homosexual and Bisexual Men in Lithuania 33

homosexual family, they had to prove to the TV show audience that they were born that way, and living with homosexual parents had no influence on their sexual orientation. V. Clarke and C. Kitzinger stated that in such a way, homosexual parents were shown as capable of raising “normal” children.

Paul R. Amato (2012) noticed that homosexual couples' rights to marry and to have children are fundamental. In comparison, the rights of different religions, cultures and mixed race couples were acknowledged. These couples are more prone to divorce, after which the children’s wellbeing often deteriorates. The scientist argues that succesful raising of a child depends on many social characteristics of the parents: not only on personal traits, but also on education, income, etc. Still, the government does not prohibit adults of different religions, cultures and races from marrying and having children, as long as there is no real danger for the children to suffer from violent behavior.

Some scientific studies claim that homosexual couples sometimes are even more motivated to adopt children than heterosexual couples. Abbie E. Goldberg with colleagues Jordan B. Downing and April M. Moyer (2012)1 compared heterosexual couples’ and homosexual male couples’ motivations to adopt a child, and found that homosexual couples were more prepared to welcome a child into the family. In addition to the same desire for both heterosexual and homosexual couples to provide a home for the child, homosexual couples sought out an open-minded neighborhood, where their children would not experience homophobic reactions or be bullied. A. E. Goldberg (2012) noticed that homosexual couples’ motivation was also encouraged by the mixed reactions they got from their immediate environment. Even relatives and friends encouraged them to adopt a child, the LGBT community often reacted discouragingly by critisising and showing lack of understanding. These negative reactions were especially common for those LGBT people who did not have children.

However, even if some gay men's desire to have children is not different from the procreative desires of heterosexual men, gay men often encounter institutional barriers to adopt children or to use reproductive technologies (Ryan, Berkowitz 2009). The most common barriers are: prohibiting adoption of a child for unmarried men, prohibiting child adoption for same-sex couples, and the illegality of surrogate motherhood (Berkowitz, Marsiglio 2007). A. Goldberg studying LGBT families emphasized that even though legal barriers in some US States have been removed, negative attitudes towards LGBT parents still remain, and

Chapter Three

34

homosexual couples have to search for agencies which are LGBT friendly (Goldberg 2012).

Therefore, as mentioned before, there have been scientific studies performed in Western countries about homosexual peoples desires and motivations to have and raise children (Goldberg et al. 2012). These studies reveal what obstacles homosexual couples face when they decide to have children (Ryan, Berkowitz 2009), how they manage to combine work and family duties (Richardson et al. 2012), and how their experiences differ from heterosexual couples’ experiences (Patterson 2000; Dunne 2000). However, scientific studies in this field in Lithuania are at the initial stages because of the widespread homophobia in Lithuanian society. A representative survey in 2013 showed that 76.4% of Lithuanian inhabitants were against female homosexual couples raising children and 80.1% were against male homosexual couples raising children.2

The non-governmental organization House of Diversity and Education initiated a survey in Lituania in 2012, and discovered that out of 80 homosexuals who participated in the study, half of them were in long-term relationships, 1/5 were raising children together, and most of the parents were female couples. Other scientific studies about homosexuals were done on the topic of coming out, as well as discrimination at work and in public (Tereškinas 2007; Homofobic 2013; FRA 2013). Fathering experiences of several homosexual and bisexual fathers and procreational intentions of young homosexual or bisexual childless men were analyzed by the author of this article (Radži nien 2012, Šumskait 2014a, Šumskait 2014b). Visions of an ideal father of young homosexual or bisexual men in Lithuania were not studied yet. The author seeks to answer these questions with this article: what are the visions of an ideal father for homosexual and bisexual interviewees, and how are they related to the relationships with their own parents, and their desire to have children?

Data and Methods

The article analyzes ten semi-structured interviews with homosexual and bisexual childless men between the ages of 21 and 303. Seven of them were homosexual, two bisexual, and one man described himself as being queer4. He said that he was attracted to men and women, but did not want to be defined by one sexual orientation, because he felt heterosexual, bisexual or homosexual, depending on the circumstances. The length of the interviews ranged from 39 minutes to 2 hours, the average duration of the interviews was 1 hour 21 minutes. Interviews were conducted from


June – September 2013 in the four largest cities of Lithuania: Vilnius, Kaunas, Klaip da, and Šiauliai.

Most of the interviewees had university education or were studying in the fields of social, humanitarian or natural sciences. One young man had primary education and sought secondary education, and another man had secondary and professional education. The young men who were studying had mainly unskilled jobs, and those who finished their studies, worked according to their profession in public, private or non-governmental sectors. One of the interviewees was unemployed.

The interview questions were about the men s relationships with their parents and other family members since childhood. The interviewees were asked to tell their coming out stories, if they had disclosed their sexual orientation to family members, colleagues at work or other students at secondary or high school. The young men were also asked about their romantic relationships, if they had a wish to live in a partnership, to marry, or to have children. If they imagined themselves being fathers, they were asked about the traits that a good father would have to display. There were also questions about masculinity norms in society and the men‘s own attitudes towards them.

Young Men Wish to Have a Child

Men s desire to have a child in a homosexual relationship is closely related to their coming out experiences. In their qualitative study with homosexual men, D. Berkowitz and W. Marsiglio (2007)5 noticed that for some of them, disclosing their sexual orientation was associated with the decision not to have children, especially for those who were over 35 years old. Later on this perception changed when men met lesbian mothers, and had some experience looking after children, or experienced loss of a loved one: partner, family member or friend. These experiences often stimulated procreational desires, but in some cases after unsuccsessful relationships with a person who had children, men decided that they would not be good parents, and their wish to have children changed (Berkowitz, Marsiglio 2007). The researchers also noticed that homosexual men often internalized negative atittudes. Some study participants‘ decisions not to have children were related to their fear of being treated as a pedophile or raising a homosexual child. They also had fears that children would experience bullying at school. These negative attitudes exist because there are so few examples of homosexual men parenting.

Furthermore, homosexual men placed different weight on disclosing their sexual orientation (Roberts 2001). For those who participate in

Chapter Three

36

LGBT community and work in the human rights field – coming out was a crucial thing. But those men who had mostly heterosexual friends, close relationships with their parents, and whose work was not related to their sexual orientation, felt less of a need to disclose their sexual orientation. Homosexual men s decision to have children can be perceived as controversial in the LGBT community. It can be seen as conforming to the societial norm to marry and have children, and on the contrary it can be meant as a human right, and confronting the stereotype that homosexual men cannot form long lasting relationships nor raise children.

Most of the interviewees disclosed their sexual orientation to their parents and friends. Some of them were open only with friends. Some of the young men were active in the LGBT community and some of them were not involved at all, they just had several homosexual or bisexual friends. Some young men, who had not disclosed their sexual orientation to parents and relatives, reported feeling pressure to find a female partner and to have children.

I was thinking of creating a family, as others say, for the appearances…If I don’t think about a traditional family, I would like to have children outside of Lithuania, because in Lithuania I cannot imagine what a child has to suffer through, because they would be asked questions such as: where is your mother etc. The society is not prepared (bisexual male, 24 y.o.). As W. Marsiglio and D. Berkowitz (2007) noticed in their research,

“coming out” can be associated with childlessness. After “coming out” to his aunt, who has raised him, one interviewee received this reaction:

...but you would be such a good father (homosexual male, 29 y.o.). The man reported that afterwards he had to make a lot of effort to

overcome her homophobic thinking. Another young man said that his mother did not accept his homosexuality and they never talked about it even though they were close before his “coming out.” The man had doubts about his possibilities to have children, so he concentrated on his professional life.

Negative experiences with children can also cause unwillingness to have children (Marsiglio, Berkowitz 2007). One young man reported that during his student practise with children who had psychosocial developmental disorders, he was discouraged from having children himself. He also noticed that he had no patience playing with small children. Still he thinks he would be a good father (homosexual male, 30 y.o.)


Commitment to long lasting relationships is usually associated with stability and the possibilities of having children (Berkowitz, Marsiglio 2007, Goldberg 2012). Half of the interviewees were in relationships which lasted for one up to three years. Three young men were living with their partners, and two of them were thinking about legal partnership or marriage, if it were to be legalized in Lithuania. One couple was even thinking about adopting a child after finishing studies and getting a proper job. However, commitment to a relationship does not necessarily mean a desire to have children.

I have never had such a feeling or wish to have children....It still doesn’t exist. My partner feels the same way. Perhaps children are a result of love in heterosexual families or among other homosexual individuals, who want to have children. (homosexual male, 23 y.o.) Tina Miller (2011) confirms that male identity does not have such a

close connection with fatherhood, as female identity with motherhood, especially for a homosexual male, who has restrictions in society to create a family and to have children. The societal norm that a mother has a closer relationship with a child was confirmed in another interviewee s statement.

I would never take a mother from a child, because I understand how important it is for a child to have a mother. He can have two fathers or two mothers, but the mother, the biological one, has to be involved. In any case, the relationship between a mother and a child is much closer than between a child and a father (homosexual male, 30 y. o.) Young men were also asked about their opinions on the “appropriate“

way to have children. Some of them preferred adoption. The main argument was about having an equal relationship with a child. However, some men preferred to have a biological relationship with the child, they expressed a desire to have a small “copy” of themselves. Surrogacy was not acceptable.

In summary, homosexual and bisexual interviewees who were not open about their sexual orientation in their environment were discussing adapting strategies to the heteronormative society and were in doubts about their chances of having children. Homosexual males who were living an openly gay lifestyle were more confident in their expressions about their desires to have or not to have children. Those who expressed a desire not to have children released their male identity from having children.

Chapter Three

38

Young Men s Visions of Fatherhood

While studying fatherhood visions, it is common to ask men about their perception of a good or an ideal father, as well as visions of their future fathering practices. It is assumed that these images can indicate what fathering practices the men might choose in the future, and how they are prepared to have a child (Marsiglio, Hutchinson 2002: 178). The interviewees were asked about their associations with fatherhood. The young men answered that responsibility was the first association which they pictured for themselves when they thought about fatherhood. Men connected responsibility with difficulties such as struggles to provide emotional and financial support, or a challenge of raising a self-sufficient individual. One man noticed that for him responsibility was connected with commitment, which at the highest level of expression would be sacrificing his own life for his children. The challenge, according to interviewees, is not only to know how to raise a child, but also to let him or her make their own decisions at the right moments in their life,

...every father or mother has their own vision, but the child doesn’t necessarily become like that, so you have to overcome that (homosexual male, 23 y.o.) When asked to give examples of good fathers, the young men

mentioned examples of good mothers more often, such as: single or lesbian mothers. Only one man mentioned his own father. One interviewee got to know a gay couple who had a child from a heterosexual relationship and remained in a good relationship with the child s mother, and were spending holidays together within an extended family. The most important trait of a good parent was mentioned – having a good emotional contact with a child in any circumstances. Loving, giving emotional attention and providing physical security for a child were all mentioned as features of a good father. Some men highlighted the importance of self-defence and knowing how to avoid fights, as they had experienced bullying at school.

Protecting the child from discrimination was also an important topic in the interviewees’ narratives. The interviewees noticed that many character traits can be learned, and encouraging self-confidence was mentioned as an example of good upbringing,

...stroke when necessary, chide when necessary...These punishments and compliments are such, that if you heard them, you would take it to heart and you would keep thinking about that....Then fulfilling relationships


develop. Now this child is six year old, and you can see the beginning of the results of this influence (homosexual male, 23 y.o.)

Conclusions

From the perspective of human rights, homosexual people have just as much of a right to raise children as other responsible adults who do care for the children’s welfare. Even psychosocial developmental studies show that sexual orientation of parents has no negative influence on children, and discussions on this topic continue in Western countries as well as in Lithuania. Some discrimination rates in Lithuanian society regarding sexual orientation are improving: more people accept homosexual individuals rights in the labor market and tolerate them living in the neighborhood. However, the topic of family life still remains under dispute. These discussions also influence interviewees. An intolerant environment causes homosexual and bisexual men to reflect more consciously on their own wish to have children, and to choose their behavior strategies to adapt or to confront heteronormativity in the society.

The desire to have or not to have children and raise them in a heteronormative society is closely connected with the interviewees’ “coming out” to close relatives and in public. Those interviewees who lived a more openly gay lifestyle were more confident in expressing their desires to have or not to have children. Those interviewees who had not “come out” to their relatives, were thinking about the assimilation strategies which would allow them to have long-lasting relationships and fulfill their desire to have children in a heterosexual relationship, or to resign themselves to not having children. Some men did not associate masculinity with the wish to have children. Self-actualization in a professional life and emotional satisfaction in a partnership relationship was their vision of a meaningful life. For the interviewees, being a good father meant providing emotional and financial care, ensuring physical security, protecting children from discrimination, and raising self-confident individuals.

Works Cited

Amato, P. L. „The Well – being of Children with Gay and Lesbian parents.” Social Science Research 41 (2012): 771–774, 2012.

Berkowitz, D., Marsiglio W. “Gay Men: Negotiating Procreative, Father, and Family Identities.” Journal of Marriage and Family. 69 (May 2007): 366 – 381, 2007.

Chapter Three

40

Clarke, V., Kitzinger, C. “Lesbian and Gay Parents on Talk Shows: Resistance or Collusion in Heterosexism.” Qualitative Research in Psychology 1: 195 – 217, 2004.

FRA 2013. EU LGBT Survey. European Union lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender survey. Results at a glance. Belgium: European Union Agency for Fundamental Rights.

Goldberg, A. E., Smith, J. Z. “Predictors of Psychological Adjustment in Early Placed Adopted Children With Lesbian, Gay, and Heterosexual Parents.” Journal of Family Psychology 27 (3): 431– 442, 2013.

Goldberg, A. E. Gay Dads. Transition to Adoptive Fatherhood. New York and London: New York University Press, 2012.

Goldberg A. E., Downing J. B., Moyer M. A. “Why Parenthood and, Why Now? Gay Men‘s Motivations for Pursuing Parenthood.” Family Relations 61 (February 2012): 157 – 174, 2012.

Golombok, S. Tasker, F. “Do Parents Influence the Sexual Orientation of Their Children. Findings from a Longitudinal Study of Lesbian Families.” Developmental Psychology 32 (1), Jan. 1996, 3 – 11, 1996.

Golombok, S., Tasker, F., Murray, C. “Children Raised in Fatherless Families from Infancy: Family Relationship and the Socioemotional Development of Children of Lesbian and Single Heterosexual Mothers.” Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry 38 (7): 783 – 791, 1997.

Homophobic and transphobic hate crimes in Lithuania (Homofobiniai ir transfobiniai neapykantos nusikaltimai Lietuvoje.) 2013. LGL report. Lithunian Gay lygue, 37 p.

Marsiglio, W., Hutchinson, S. Sex, Men and Babies. Stories of Awareness and Responsibility. New York and London: New York University Press, 2002.

Marsiglio, W. “Making Males Mindful of Their Sexual and Procreative Identities: Using Self – Narratives in Field Settings.” Perspectives on Sexual and Reproductive Health 35 (5), (September/October): 229 – 233, 2003.

Miller T. Making Sense of Fatherhood. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011.

“Most Lithuanians agree that single parents are a family, and they don‘t know any homosexual families, and still are afraid of them.” 27.06. 2013 [Accessed 02 April 2014: http://ivairiseima.lt/vienisi-tevai/dauguma-lietuviu-pritaria-kad-vienisi-tevai-seima-bet-vienalyciu-seimu-vis-dar-nepazista-ir-bijo/]

Patterson, C. J. “Family Relationships of Lesbians and Gay Men.” Journal of Marriage and the Family 62 (November 2000): 1052 – 1069.


Plummer, K. “Critical Humanism and Queer Theory.” In The Sage Handbook of Qualitative Research. Third ed., ed. Denzin, N. K., Lincoln, Y. S. US: Sage Publications, Inc., 2005.

Promoting the Well – Being of Children Whose Parents are Gay or Lesbian. Policy Statement. Pediatrics 31, 4 (April 2013), 827 – 828. American Academy of Pediatrics. Committee on Psychosocial Aspects of Child and Family Health.

Richardson H. B., Moyer, A. M., Goldberg, A. E. “You Try to be Superman and You Don’t Have to Be: Gay Adoptive Fathers’ Challenges and Tensions in Balancing Work and Family.” Fathering 10 (3): 314 – 336, 2012.

Ryan, M., Berkowitz, D. ”Constructing Gay and Lesbian Parent Families ‘Beyond the Closet.’” Qualitative Sociology 32: 153–172, 2009.

Roberts, R. “Rethinking Sex and Gender in Work with Gay identified Men.” In Working with Men in the Human Services. eds. Pease, B., Camilleri, P., 194 – 195. Australia: Allen & Unwin, 2001.

Radži nien , L. “Understanding of Non-traditional Fatherhood in Contemporary Lithuania: Analysis of Qualitative Interviews („Netradicinis“ t vas šiuolaikin je Lietuvoje).” STEPP: Social Theory, Empirics, Policy and Practice. 6: 112 – 124, 2012.

Sullivan N. “Queer Theory.” In International Encyclopedia of Men and Masculinities. eds. Flood, M., Gardiner J. K., Pease, B., Pringle, K., 521-524. London & New York: Routledge, 2007.

Stacey, J., Biblartz, T. J. “(How) Does the Sexual Orientation of Parents Matter?” American Sociological Review 66 (2), (April 2001), 159 – 183.

Šumskait , L. 2014a. “Normative Masculinities in Fathering Practices (Norminis vyriškumas t vyst s praktikose).” STEPP: Social theory, empirics, policy and practice 8: 33 – 50, 2014a.

—. “Procreational Intentions of Young Homosexual and Bisexual men (Jaun homoseksuali ir biseksuali vyr prokreaciniai l kes iai Lietuvoje).” Culture and Society. Journal of Social Research. 5(3): 57-76, 2014b.

Tasker, F. “Lesbian Mothers, Gay Fathers, and Their Children: a Review.” Journal of Developmental & Behavioral Pediatrics 26 (3): 224 – 240, 2005

—. “Children in Lesbian – Led Families: A Review.” Clinical Child Psychology and Psychiatry 4: 153, 1999.

Tereškinas.,“Lithuanian Gays and Lesbians‘ Coming out in the Public/Private Divide: Sexual Citizenship, Secrecy and Heteronormative Public.” Sociology. Thought and Action 1(19): 74 – 87, 2007.

Chapter Three

42

“19% of lesbians raise children in Lithuania.” 23.09.2012, House of Diversity and Education [Accessed 02 04 2014: http://ivairiseima.lt/lgbt-seimos/19-proc-lesbieciu-lietuvoje-augina-vaikus/]

Notes

1 70 homosexual men participated in the qualitative study. Qualitative interviews were done before adoption and several months after. 2 The representative survey of Lithuanian inhabitants was done in January- February of 2013 by Kaunas Technology University, Institute of Politics and Public Administration in the frame of the project International Programme of Social Research: Monitoring of Lithuanian Social Problems, which was funded by the Lithuanian Research Council. Most Lithuanians agree that single parents are a family, and they don’t know any homosexual families, and still are afraid of them. 27 06 2013 [Noted on the Internet: http://ivairiseima.lt/vienisi-tevai/dauguma-lietuviu-pritaria-kad-vienisi-tevai-seima-bet-vienalyciu-seimu-vis-dar-nepazista-ir-bijo/, 02 04 2014] 3 The data were gathered as part of the scientific project Procreational Identities of Young Men: Cultural Norms, Individual Expectations and Experiences, funded by the Reasearch Council of Lithuania (No MIP 005/2013). 4 Queer theory states that sexual orientation is constructed by society. It dissociates from identity politics, which was a background for gay and lesbian movements. Everyone regardless of their sexual orientation can have queer features. But the very term queer happened to be used as an umbrella term for all sexual minorities – gay, lesbian, bisexual, transsexual, intersexual, and others who feel that they are marginalized because of their sexuality or gender (Sullivan 2007, 521–522). Ken Plummer uses the term queer as a definition for post-modernization of gender and sexuality studies (Plummer 2005, 359). 5 D. Berkowitch and W. Marsiglio conducted 49 interviews with 19-55 year-old gay men residing in Florida and New York. 19 of them were childless and 20 had diverse fathering experiences excluding heterosexual relationships (intercourse).

CHAPTER FOUR

PORTRAYAL OF HOMOSEXUAL FATHERS IN AMERICAN CHILDREN'S LITERATURE

SINCE THE 1990S

AGNIESZKA JAROSZ American writers had to come a long way before their attempts to include the question of homosexuality in literature as such turned out to be successful; only then could homosexuality be incorporated into children’s literature. The first books to touch upon the question of homosexuality could not be published due to the harsh censorship imposed on the American society throughout the second half of the19th and the first half of the 20th century. Although the first attempts to include homosexual characters in children’s books appeared as early as in the 1970s1, they were mere mentions of the very existence of homosexual people, usually had unhappy endings2 and never portrayed homosexual parents and their relationship with children. Such a tendency did not appear until the early 1990s which opened the era of homosexuality constituting an important part of the children’s literature. However, the notions of homosexuality in children’s books are not always apparent and obvious. While some authors name the problem directly and address it openly, others tend to incorporate it imperceptibly, resorting to various techniques aiming at masking the very essence of the issue. The aim of this paper is to outline the techniques the authors of American children’s literature have been using for the past three decades in order to justify or hide the presence of the homosexual phenomenon in their books with a particular focus on the portrayal of homosexual fathers.

The reasons for excluding the question of homosexuality from American literature are deeply rooted in the American mentality. The American nation has been largely preoccupied with the question of morality and appropriateness in literature since the very beginning of the country’s establishment in 1776. Though initially strongly subordinated to

Chapter Four

44

Puritan dogmas and directives, the American nation soon decided on granting the individuals freedoms of various kinds. In 1791 the American Congress passed the First Amendment of the Bill of Rights to the United States Constitution, which stated that “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercises thereof, or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances” (The Constitution of the Unites States of America, Bill of Rights, the First Amendment, e-source). However, although the Amendment officially guaranteed American citizens complete freedom of speech, excluding at the same time the possibility that the country attempt to impose any restrictions upon the written or the spoken matter, American publications were continuously subject to the phenomenon of censorship3 throughout the 19th and 20th century due to additional laws introduced in the course of time (considered to be of more or at least equal importance as the American Constitution) and by social lifeway which was not particularly lax until the sexual revolution of the 1960s began.4 Therefore, the 1970s is the decade for the American literature to gradually become more and more open to such a controversial issue as sexuality, paving the way for homosexuality to gain more understanding and approval among American writers and readers. However, escaping the pedagogical and moralizing tendencies in children’s literature is not easy. The fundamental purpose of writing children’s literature according to the 17th and 18th century normative ethics was to define the concept of good and evil in order to set a clear frontier between them and to show the young readers morally positive behaviours, which in turn was aimed at normalizing the social relations and creating patterns worthy to be followed (Hunt, 6). Although along with the development of the society and culture, the literary aspirations of artists underwent the process of revalorization along with the values and ethical norms propagated by literary works, the most common flashpoints have remained. As Mark I. West points out:

Throughout the history of children's literature, the people who have tried to censor children's books, for all their ideological differences, share a rather romantic view about the power of books. They believe, or at least profess to believe, that books are such a major influence in the formation of children's values and attitudes that adults need to monitor nearly every word that children read. (1996, 506)

The development of thought and the freedom to decide on one’s morality and philosophy have also changed the approach to children, to their ability to draw conclusions, and their sexuality. According to Peter Hunt,

Portrayal of Homosexual Fathers in American Children's Literature 45

“censorship tends to characterise children as impressionable and simple-minded, unable to take a balanced view of, for example, sexual or racial issues, unless the balance is explicitly stated” (1974, 7). However, Hunt argues that the child’s mind is more prone to make individual judgements on the basis of the behaviours they observe in their closest surroundings, i.e. at their family homes and at schools. The change of the approach towards children and children’s literature is inherently connected with the philosophical and ideological changes and with the development of the concept of children’s identity and sexuality. The term ‘child’s sexuality’ refers to the general concept of the whole process of a child’s development accounting for such factors as their biological, physical, and emotional development which take place before achieving full sexual (physical) maturity. Not much research had been done in this area before the Age of Enlightenment, which results directly from the ideological and philosophical tendencies prevailing at that time (Lesnik-Oberstein, 13). However, the notion of child’s sexuality has not been agreed upon by the scholars. As Steven Bruhm and Natasha Hurley state, “There is currently a dominant narrative about children: children are (and should stay) innocent of sexual desires and intentions. At the same time, however, children are also officially, tacitly, assumed to be heterosexual” (Bruhm, qtd. in Pugh, 1). Since it is assumed that any mentions of homosexuality in literature might be of educational and informative value, hence the tendency to purge the concept from the children’s literature in order to preserve its apparent neutrality and avoid homosexual propaganda. However, the neutrality cannot be fully achieved because of the difference in status between the writer and the reader. As Charles Sarland points out, the fact that children’s literature is written by adults who no longer belong to the same age or social group as their readers generates the conflict of interest (Sarland, qtd. in Pugh, 3). Why should an adult write children’s fiction? What is his or her motivation? Is it purely informative, educational or does the author have some hidden purpose behind their actions? Is the ideology conveyed subjective? What is the author’s goal? These questions are raised by Karin Lesnik-Oberstein while discussing the concept of the child as such. According to Oberstein, the child as the reader does not really exist. The author then may be writing their story with an ideal child-reader in mind; a child who would like to read the story or would benefit from it. This target audience is intended and planned by the author. Thus, according to Lesnik-Oberstein, the child is merely a complex ‘construction’ based on various assumptions (Lesnik-Oberstein, qtd. in Pugh, 2). Children’s literature is then written for a fictional child, not for a regular child who stands for the future civilization. Moreover, Tison Pugh

Chapter Four

46

believes that the problem of purging certain taboos from children’s literature is highly dependent on the problem of adults, not children:

Defining children as innocent of heterosexuality and other subjects deemed taboo for them, no matter the practicality or utility of quarantining knowledge, often reveals cultural confusion or ambivalence about these topics among adults, and so children are not as much inoculated from knowledge through this practice as adults are preserved from the challenge of resolving pertinent social conflicts. (2011, 4)

Pugh identifies the problem of excluding homosexuality from children’s literature with introducing heteronormativity (5), a practice which is not in accordance with the concept of preserving the child’s innocence of sexuality either.

However, in the recent decades, children’s books have continued to be subject to censorship for the reason of promoting inappropriate role models, a very broad concept which involves promoting violence, alcohol, drugs, sex, vulgar language, and first and foremost, homosexuality. Following the unwritten guidelines of censorship, until the 1990s the problem of same-sex relationships was either not touched upon in the American children’s books or was not portrayed in a positive light (Hahn, 531). The situation gained a new point of view in 1989 when a revolution in this field began. This is when Leslea Newman published Heather Has Two Mommies, the first American children’s book touching upon the problem of a parent’s homosexuality which gained recognition and wide acclaim. This groundbreaking picture book tells a story of a nine-year-old girl raised by lesbian women, Mama Kate and Mama Jane. Heather’s life seems perfectly normal, she has a lot of toys at home, her favourite blue blanket to sleep in and many other objects which are of great importance to her. The girl does not realize that her family is different than others until one day she is told so by a group of children she is playing with. When the teacher reads a story of a boy and his father, all children start talking about their daddies, which is the point when Heather realizes she lacks one and bursts out crying. However, the moral is quite different than one can expect. Heather is not ostracized by her peers. On the contrary, the teacher convinces her that having two mommies makes her situation very special and unique. Moreover, this is when some other children admit to having two daddies, which changes the children’s point of view entirely. Later on, all the children describe their families and it turns out that each family is different: there is a different number of mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, half-brothers etc. in each of them. Despite the fact of not having a father, the life of Heather is portrayed to be as normal as everyone else’s. The


final conclusion given to the reader is that what makes a family is that all the people love one another, a message which says it is not important by whom we are raised, but whether we find ourselves within a family in which we are loved. However, while this moral may be seen as didactic and promoting tolerance and equality, it turns out to constitute a flashpoint in the field of literary criticism. As Anika Stafford points out, the inclusion of such a moral at the end of a story “shifts the focus away from the characters as individuals as they become symbols of something to accept, as opposed to specific and interesting people with whom a reader can connect” (2009, 173). According to Stafford, such a moral annihilates the original purpose of the story and makes it less reliable (170). Moreover, she argues that the debates on whether a work is inappropriate for young readers pay “little attention to the ways that literary quality is often sacrificed in order to make a political point” (169). As she points out, the fact that queer children’s literature is not abundant does not mean that the readers must accept any form it appears in.

What is characteristic of Heather Has Two Mommies is the realistic description of the same-sex couple’s life and the direct and open approach towards the problem of homosexuality. Newman does not try to hide the controversial issue she is going to incorporate into the story, she announces the taboo to be discussed as early as in the title, as if daring the adults to let their children become acquainted with it5. The positive picture of a lesbian family propagated by Newman earned the book a lot of criticism and was the reason for which the book has been on the list of the most challenged books ever since it was published. However, Heather Has Two Mommies opened the door to the theme of same-sex parenting to enter the realm of American children’s literature. Along with her later publications dealing with such controversial issues as lesbianism, adoption, or gender issues, Newman established her position as the pioneer in the field of fighting stereotypes resulting from prejudice against homosexuality among parents, paving the way for other publications dealing with the topic6.

After Newman, who evoked both a lot of controversies as well as positive reactions among American parents, new publications began to appear. American authors became braver and more and more sensitive to the issue of having same-sex parents. The first American children’s book talking openly about a family with two fathers appeared only two years later, in 1991, when Michael Willhoite published Daddy’s Roommate. In this picture book aimed at children of age three to eight illustrations are of great importance since they are not only colourful and beautiful, but also very realistic. Willhoite tells a story of a boy, Nick, whose parents have

Chapter Four

48

been divorced for a year. After the boy visits daddy’s new house he meets daddy’s new roommate, Frank. The boy slowly discovers that the relationship between his dad and Frank seems to be closer than they initially want to admit. In the course of time, he learns that living with two dads seems to be as normal as living with heterosexual parents, as the daily routine of homosexual couples turns out to be very parallel to the one heterosexual families have: the two men in the book do the same things heterosexual couples do: they spend leisure time together, take care of the house and do the chores together, cook and eat, sometimes argue, and finally sleep together. Nick is able to accept the changes because he is not under the influence of any social norms. He discovers the normality of functioning of a same-sex relationship on the level of everyday life, which is exactly the same as his parents used to have.

It is the first American children’s books which addresses the problem of gay fathers so openly. Consequently, the book has become one of the most challenged books in the recent years with the American Library Association7 listing it at number 2 on their list of the 100 most challenged books from 1990-1999 (ALA, ”Banned and Challenged Books”). The message, seemingly telling us that all people are equal regardless of their individual characteristics or features, is the most often used argument which is supposed to convince the children that different does not necessarily mean worse, dangerous or harmful. However, as Anika Stafford argues, the story is “oversimplified, depicting conservatively gendered, white, middle-class norms” (Stafford, 172). The fact that the two fathers are not different from others because they eat, sleep, and shave in the same way as everybody else means that the fact of being different is actually not acceptable, the only acceptable thing is to be the same or at least similar to other people. This way Stafford challenges all the queer children’s books which tend to normalize homosexuality and portray it within the frames of gendered, white heterosexuality, not allowing homosexuality to function independently within its own frames.

Since the time of publication of Daddy’s Roommate the market of American children’s books has been flooded with books aiming at educating the young ones about the existence of same-sex relationships and their functioning in the society. Interestingly enough, although the portrayal of homosexual fathers in American children’s books has been changing and gaining more and more recognition amongst the readers, most of the books dealing with the problem of same-sex parenting have been challenged on the grounds of posing a threat to the status quo. However, the popularity of Daddy’s Roommate encouraged Willhoite to develop on the adventures of Nick and his gay fathers. In 1996 Daddy’s


Wedding was published, featuring the preparation of Nick’s father and his partner, Frank, for their wedding day. The boy, who is now ten years old, is asked to perform the role of the best man. The story shows the positive emotions arising from the wedding preparations regardless of the fact whether the couple to be married is heterosexual or homosexual. Analogically to Daddy’s Roommate, Daddy’s Wedding faced criticism from the environments opposing propagation of homosexuality and gained much recognition both due to the controversy around it and its contribution to advocating homosexuality amongst parents. Nonetheless, it also faced literary criticism on the grounds of portraying homosexuality within the frames of heterosexuality while depicting the wedding preparations, making it as neutral as possible, that is similar to a white, middle-class heterosexual wedding. Such a depiction does not contribute anything positive to the portrayal of homosexuality, but creates tensions on the grounds of being individual, according to e.g. Anika Stafford.

Another controversial author who contributed to popularizing the notion of homosexuality in children’s literature is Johnny Valentine who in 1994 published One Dad, Two Dads, Brown Dad, Blue Dads. This picture book, designed for children aged three to six, presents the problem of being unique from a different angle. Although the title announces the problem of homosexuality to be touched upon, it does not turn out to be problematic at all. This rhyming text constitutes a dialogue between two little boys who are striving to understand how it is possible that one of them has blue dads. They are trying to come up with possible solutions to how the fathers have come to be like that. However, the conclusion is that they are blue for no particular reason, they were just born that way and they are just as good as other fathers who are white, brown or green. The conversation goes on when a little girl states that she has never seen green fathers, at which point another child enters and states that her two fathers are actually green. The colour of the fathers is so interesting both to the children involved and to the readers themselves that they do not realize the fact that the boy has in fact two fathers. This manipulation technique based on distraction makes the reader concentrate on other aspects of the fathers and not on their sexual orientation. Valentine introduces little children to the concept of having parents who do not fit the universally accepted norms. However, as Anika Stafford points out, while the distraction based on the use of colours does not pose dangers of addressing a homophobic audience and thus does not constitute any type of propaganda, it poses the danger of conveying a message on anti-racism and its being identical with being “colour blind”; thus, by reassuring the reader that origin does not matter and everybody is all the same, the idea of being of different origin

Chapter Four

50

may be negated by the child-reader the same way the concept of being the same as others might result in negating the notion of celebrating differentness (Stafford, 176).

A similar situation is depicted in A Tale of Two Daddies by Vanita Oelschlager, published in 2010. The plot is constructed on the basis of a conversation between two children (a girl and a boy), taking place in the playground. Having heard that the girl is being raised by a family of two fathers, the boy cannot fight his curiosity and poses his friend numerous questions. A special point of interest constitutes the role division between Daddy and Poppa, as the girl calls her parents. What the boy wants to know is which father is responsible for particular areas of life, e.g. who cooks, who cleans, who plays soccer with her etc. Surprisingly to the boy who is expecting a complete confusion in terms of the role sharing, it turns out that the fathers have well established and equally divided areas of life for which they are responsible, just like mom and dad usually do. The conclusion implied is that even though the family consists of two fathers, it functions on universal bases, just like all other families. There is no condemnation or appraisal of such a model of a family, the author rather provides the reader with practical information on how the family functions as it can be seen from the perspective of a child whose life is not disturbed or distorted in any way by being raised in a same-sex family8.

Another technique the authors of children’s books have incorporated in order to imperceptibly address the problem of homosexuality is giving up on portraying human characters in favour of animal characters. Incorporating the theme of homosexual fathers into the lives of animals may seem to be less harming and less controversial. One of the most popular animal stories of same-sex fathers has been covered in And Tango Makes Three by Peter Parnell and Justin Richardson. Although the authors introduce children to the world of homosexual animals, the concept of gay parenthood seems to be placed in the background of the story. The fact that the parents are actually two fathers does not constitute the main point of interest of the reader, it is the beautiful everyday life and their love which makes the book so special. The book gained much recognition worldwide, becoming at the same time the most challenged book between 2006-2010 according to the American Library Association reports (Sherri, e-source). The more conservative environments accused the authors of promoting homosexuality by accepting it in the world of animals and posing a threat that the children might want to transfer this situation into the world of humans. However, that was not the intention of the authors. As Justin Richardson once said, they “wrote the book to help parents teach children about same-sex parent families. It’s no more an argument in favour of human gay relationships


than it is a call for children to swallow their fish whole or sleep on rocks” (Richardson, e-source). It turns out that the didactic feature cannot be avoided; the child-reader is bound to transfer the qualities attributed to animals to the world of humans and therefore such techniques are not welcome by parents.

What may cause fear when it comes to children’s literature is not only the fact that certain themes may evoke outrage, but because a mere mention of an unwelcome issue may cause the book to be challenged and perhaps banned. Such was the case of Martha Freeman’s The Trouble with Babies (2002). The book tells a story of a nine-year-old Holly, her mother and her step-father moving into a new neighbourhood and trying to adjust to a new life. When Holly makes friends with Xavier, a boy living next door, the fact that he is being raised by two fathers does not attract much of the girl’s attention. Neither does it have much significance in the context of the whole story which focuses more on making new friends and accepting the younger sibling which has just appeared or is about to appear. However, this was the reason why the book was challenged in San Francisco, where it was published, and did not gain much recognition in the world of children’s literature. As Mary Cash, Holiday House’s executive director says, "For some readers, the mere use of the word 'gay' is inappropriate, and they can't separate the word from the idea of sex" (Cash, qtd. in Getlin, e-source). Therefore, the book faced objections from parents on the grounds of promoting homosexual sex, in spite of the fact that such a case never takes place in the book itself.

The techniques used by the American authors in order to incorporate the concept of homosexuality vary considerably in terms of the openness of addressing the issue. Some authors announce the difficult problem to be touched upon as early as in the title of the work (Heather Has Two Mommies). Other authors introduce the concept of homosexuality imperceptibly, placing it somewhere in the background, as if it was of no importance (The Trouble With Babies). Yet others employ the technique of distraction, contrasting the concept of homosexuality with another, even more controversial issue (One Dad, Two Dads, Brown Dad, Blue Dads). Finally, some authors decide to attribute homosexual qualities to the world of animals in order to avoid addressing homosexuality openly. Regardless of the technique, all of them are exposed to criticism for either promoting homosexuality (conservative environments) or belittling it. Although the American market of children’s books has been flooded with books touching upon the problem of homosexual parenthood in the last three decades, there is still a long way for the parents to widely approve of such stories to be read by or to their children. What constitutes the main

Chapter Four

52

problem is the children’s sexualization. The second half of the 20th century is considered by many scientists to have caused pre-mature sexualization of children due to the spread of the mass media after the Second World War. Exposure to sexually explicit information and lack of proper sexual education on the part of both the parents and the school have enabled the children to make their own judgments and to experiment with their ideas and bodies. Despite the contemporary attempts to introduce sexual education at schools, this process is irreversible. However, not all scientists dealing with children’s sexuality support the idea of sexual education at schools. Fred Kaeser, Ed.D, the Director of Health Services for Community School District Two in New York is against introducing sexual education at schools and strongly encourages parents to enlighten their children at homes before the age of puberty, that is before they manage to discover it themselves with the use of television, Internet, newspapers, their peers or siblings, which can turn out to be harmful for their development (Kaeser, e-source). However, being curious about one’s body constitutes a normative stage of a child’s sexual development which depends to a large extent on the cultural and religious conditioning of a particular community. Therefore, children’s literature might turn out to be useful while educating children or simply providing them with a background for the sexual education. As Arthur Levine said:

Ten percent of the children's book readership, at least, will grow up to be gay or lesbian … Wouldn't it be nice if their first exposure to the idea that there are gay people in the world isn't when they're teenagers — so when little Johnny falls in love with that really cute, brainy boy in his computer class, he's grown up with the idea that it's not unusual and there's nothing wrong with that. (Levine, qtd. in Frank, e-source).

As Levine believes, the fundamental purpose of writing children’s literature which was based on defining the concepts of good and evil and setting morally appropriate examples to be followed in the child’s future life should be extended by the attempt to prepare children for any possible situations they might come across in their adult lives. The concept of homosexuality is just one of many controversial issues which are certain to appear, be it the experience of the child’s friends or their own. Authors of children’s books hold an important responsibility to inform the child-reader of the existence of certain behaviours; whether they choose to present them in a positive or negative light constitutes a secondary question. What is of the highest importance is the very fact of their existence.


Works Cited

Primary Sources

Freeman, Martha. The Trouble with Babies. New York City: Holiday House, 2002.

Newman, Leslie. Daddy, Pappa and Me. New York City: Alyson Books, 2009.

—. Heather Has Two Mommies. New York City: Alyson Books, 1989. Oelschlager, Vanita. A Tale of Two Daddies. Pittsburgh: Vanita Books,

2010. Parnell, Peter and Justin Richardson. And Tango Makes Three. New York

City: Simon and Schuster, 2005. Valentine, Johnny. One Dad, Two Dads, Brown Dad, Blue Dads. New

York City: Alyson Books, 1994. Willhoite, Michael. Daddy’s Roommate. New York City: Alyson Books,

1990. —. Daddy’s Wedding. New York City: Alyson Books, 1996.

Secondary Sources

ALA, “About ALA.” American Library Association. Accessed March 25th 2016 at <http://www.ala.org/aboutala/>.

—. “Banned and Challenged Books.” American Library Association. Accessed March 27th 2016,< http://www.ala.org/bbooks/100-most-frequently-challenged-books-1990–1999>.

Bruhm, Steven and Natasha Hurley. Curiouser: On the Queerness of Children. Qtd. in Tison Pugh. Innocence, Heterosexuality, and the Queerness of Children’s Literature. New York: Routledge, 2011.

Getlin, Josh. “Gay References Touchy in Children’s Literature.” The Seattle Times, January 5th, 2004. Accessed March 26th, 2016 at <http://community.seattletimes.nwsource.com/archive/?date=20040105&slug=author05>.

Hahn, Daniel. Oxford Companion to Children’s Literature. “Sexuality”. Oxford: OUP, 2014.

Horowitz, Helen Lefkowitz. “Victoria Woodhull, Anthony Comstock, and Conflict over Sex in the United States in the 1870s.” Journal of American History 87: 2000, 403–34.

Hunt, Peter. An Introduction to Children's Literature. Oxford: Oxford Press, 1974.

Chapter Four

54

Kaeser, Fred. “Towards a Better Understanding of Children’s Sexual Behaviour”. Accessed March 25th 2016 at: <http://www.aboutourkids.org/articles/towards_better_understandding_children039s_sexual_behavior>.

Kerber, Linda K., Jane Sherron De Hart and Cornelia Hughes Dayton. “The Many Frontiers of Industrializing America, 1820-1900” in Women’s America: Refocusing the Past. New York: Oxford University Press, 2011.

Lesnik-Oberstein, Karin. Children's Literature: New Approaches. London: London University Press, 2004.

Frank, Steven. “Battles Rage Over Children’s Books with Gay Themes.” Logo, June 25th, 2007. Accessed March 26th, 2016 at <http://www.newnownext.com/battles-rage-over-childrens-books-with-gay-themes/06/2007

Machlin, Sherri. “Banned Books Week: And Tango Makes Three”. New York Public Library. September 23rd. 2013. Accessed March 25th 2016 at <http://www.nypl.org/blog/2013/09/23/banned-books-week-and-tangomakes-three>.

McKie, Robin. “New York Flips as Penguins Come out in Central Park”. The Guardian, Febryary 8th, 2014. Accessed March 26th, 2016 at <http://www.theguardian.com/world/2004/feb/08/usa.gayrights>.

Public Laws of the United States of America, Passed at the Third Session of the Forty-second (Boston, 1873), 598.qtd. in Kerber et. Al., 250.

Pugh, Tison. Innocence, Heterosexuality, and the Queerness of Children’s Literature. New York: Routledge, 2011.

Richardson, Justin qtd. in Kat Brown „Gay Penguins Have no Place in Our Libraaries, Say Parents”. The Telegraph, April 13th, 2015. Accessed March 26th, 2016 at <http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/books/booknews/11532897/Gay-penguins-have-no-place-in-our-libraries-say-parents.html>.

Pugh, Tison. Innocence, Heterosexuality, and the Queerness of Children’s Literature. New York: Routledge, 2011.

Stafford, Anika. “Beyond Normalization: An Analysis of Heteronormativity in Children’s Picture Books” in Rachel Epstein, ed. Who’s Your Daddy. And Other Writings on Queer Parenting. Toronto: Three O’Clock Press, 2009: 169-178.

“The First Amendment to the Bill of Rights of the Constitution of the United States of America,” 1791. Legal Information Institute. Accessed March 26th 2016 at <https://www.law.cornell.edu/constitution/first_amendment>.


West, Mark I. Trust Your Children, Voices Against Censorship in Children’s Literature. New York: Neal-Schuman, 1996.

Notes 1 One of the first books to show homosexuality in a positive light was Forever by Judy Blume, published in 1975 (Hahn, 531). 2 Such as e.g. John Donovan’s I’ll Get There. It Better Be Worth the Trip published in 1969 (Hahn, 531). 3American process of censorship involves having a book challenged or banned. A challenge constitutes the first step in the process of banning a work, it is the attempt to have it removed basing upon certain objections. Challenging a book may take the following forms: withdrawal from bookstores, libraries, schools and school libraries, book damage and even book theft (in the most modern form of the challenge the communities objecting a particular work or author borrow the book from the library and simply refuse to return it, claiming it as lost). Moreover, some American states allow parents not to send a child to school on a day when a particular book they do not approve of is to be discussed in class. 4 The late 1960s is the time when The Comstock Law was abolished on the grounds of violating the basic freedoms granted by the Constitution (Horowitz, 428). The law, legally called “Act for Suppression of Trade in, and Circulation of Obscene Literature and Articles of Immoral Use” and passed by Anthony Comstock in 1873 (Kerber et. al., 250), not only introduced preventive and repressive censorship of the publications to be issued and theatrical performances to be staged, but also imposed rigid censorship on the American society, which at some point involved even control of private mail. The contents considered inappropriate included issues related to contraception, abortion, sexual life, violence, pornography and homosexuality. Breaching the law was harshly penalized. 5 It must be noticed that there are no concepts which seem controversial to a child reader until it is clearly communicated so by an adult. Therefore, as Tison Pugh claims, children’s literature never constitutes a challenge for the child, but for the parent. 6 Other very prominent works by Newman which are worth mentioning include Felicia’s Favourite Story, touching upon the problem of being raised by two mothers and being adopted at the same time, and Saturday is Pattyday dealing with the topic of a divorce of two women who share the childcare and attempt to maintain good relationships with the child. Newman seems to attempt to portray the life of a same-sex family in every possible aspect and stage of life that a heterosexual family can find itself in. However, while comparing homosexuality to heterosexuality, Newman constantly exposes herself to criticism for not appreciating the differentness of homosexuality. 7 The so called ALA, established in 1876 (ALA, e-source), an institution which deals with collecting the database on the censorship imposed in America, advocates people’s right to access the information on any content they wish,

Chapter Four

56

organizes anti-censorship campaigns aiming at educating people and celebrates various holidays connected with censorship, such as e.g. the Banned Book Day. 8 The same problem is covered in Leslie Newman’s Daddy, Papa, and Me (2009). This picture book portrays the everyday life of a little child, putting a strong emphasis on the assistance of a father in such basic activities as playing, eating, getting dressed, having a bath, preparing to go to sleep, etc. The author shows the readers that parents are the most important people in a child’s life because they introduce them to all the daily routines. Regardless of their race or sexual orientation, their contribution into the child’s development does not lose its significance. In this book, homosexual fathers provide the child with care and love and constitute a solid support through the day-to-day obstacles the child faces.

SECTION I B

NON-FICTION FATHERS: FATHERHOOD IN SOCIOLOGICAL, PSYCHOLOGICAL, AND POLITICAL

DISCOURSE

FATHERS VERSUS PARTICULAR CHALLENGES

CHAPTER FIVE

FATHERHOOD FROM FATHERS’ OWN PERSPECTIVE

ALEKSANDRA JACUKOWICZ AGATA W YK1

Introduction

Historically, men took on the role of economic providers for their families and women were responsible for most of the housework and childcare duties. Today, men are encouraged to become involved in family’s lives and to relieve women from house duties, especially considering their growing participation in the labor market. Yet, men are still expected not to withdraw from the provider role as they are often supposed to be the main providers for the families (Bryan 2013; Shirani, Henwood, and Coltart 2012).

Nowadays, fathers need to define a new place for themselves in the structure of the family (Bryan 2013; Shaw 2008). They need to confront their own values and beliefs with the values and beliefs of their partners, parents, employers or co-workers.

The results presented in this paper come from a Polish-Norwegian research project titled: “Enhancing the effectiveness of work-life balance initiatives use (EFFECT)” realized by the Nofer Institute of Occupational Medicine in ód and our two Norwegian partners: HiOA Norwegian Social Research and Policy and Social Research AS2. This paper concerns the results of semi-structured qualitative interviews with 31 Polish working parents (including seven fathers). Basing on the fathers’ opinions, we aimed to indicate how they realized themselves as fathers and how they understood the role of today’s fathers.

Fatherhood from Fathers’ Own Perspective 59

Methods

The Polish qualitative part of the project included interviews with working parents of children aged six or less and were conducted between April and September 2014. We interviewed 31 participants, including seven fathers – they were either scientists (N=4) or administrative workers (N=3). The fathers were between 35 and 40 years old, they were all married and had from one to three children. The respondents were informed of the project aims, procedures and the way of storing and using the obtained data. All the respondents could participate in the study provided that they agreed to the research conditions and signed an informed consent.

We used semi-structured interviews and the research questions referred to work-life-balance-related issues including the perception of parenthood, sharing household and childcare duties, using work-life-balance benefits, or the visions of perfect childhood. All respondents received financial compensation for the time devoted to participation in the study amounting to PLN 100 (approximately 25 Euro).

Analysis

Thematic analysis was used to organize and interpret the obtained data (Braun and Clarke 2008). In the first step, all the interviews were transcribed and verified by the psychologists who conducted the particular meeting. Then, we extracted the men’s quotations and each statement was described with key words summarizing the main point of each opinion. Next, we grouped the quotations based on the key words to find the leading issues and finally, basing on the leading issues, we formulated our hypotheses.

Results and discussion

Basing on the studied fathers’ quotations referring to the role of a father, we formulated the following hypotheses: (1) men care for their work and want to provide for their families; (2) men care for their families and want to be involved in family life; (3) men need to face social norms and other people’s expectations about the contemporary role of a father.

Men care for their work and want to provide for their families

We asked our interviewees how they valued their work and whether they worked only for money or their work gave them something more. Both

Chapter Five

60

women and men appreciated the non-financial benefits of working, such as satisfaction or fulfilling their ambitions. Yet, women considered work as a relief from housework more often than men, whereas men mentioned financial issues more frequently. Men were more likely to claim that they worked solely for money and that if it had not been for the salary they got, maybe they would not have worked at all:

There are some benefits from going to work in general, but it’s money that makes you work. If I could [afford] stay[ing] at home doing nothing, I might stay (Administrative worker, 40 years old, 2 children).

Further, we also heard:

Above all, I do this job to get money. If I lost it, we would have a great problem (Scientist, 36 years old, 2 children).

Another father said that when he had started working, his wife had

already worked for a few years and she had earned more than him. Most importantly, he believed it had a huge adverse impact on his self-esteem. Such opinion confirms that it is still believed, even by men themselves, that it is men who are mainly responsible for the money and they should be the ones earning more in the family. Similarly, Shirani, Henwood and Coltart (2012) suggest that the ability to provide for the family financially constitutes a part of “men’s fathering identity” (Shirani, Henwood, and Coltart 2012, p. 275). The research showed that it is still widely held that without money, a man cannot be a good father (Bryan, 2013). Also Machin (2015) underlines the discomfort that men experience when struggling to reconcile their childcare and fatherhood activities and “the economic necessity to work” (Machin 2015, p. 36).

Holding such beliefs on their responsibility for the family budget, the interviewed men were also more likely to work more to achieve a satisfactory level of income. In comparison to the studied women, they admitted to working long or extra hours, taking work home with them, or holding a few jobs at once more frequently.

I work part-time in another job, because we wouldn’t manage otherwise (Administrative worker, 37 years old, 1 child).

Sometimes the need to work multiple jobs directly resulted from the financial needs and the common opinion that in order to live a life on a decent level, it is necessary to work harder than in other countries.


I know that scientists [abroad] who work in the same position as I do have more comfort. They don’t work as much as I do, I have three jobs and that gives us some decent standard of living, but the workload is huge (Scientist, 39 years old, 3 children).

Such a result is consistent with previous studies suggesting that fathers

generally increase their work effort after their children are born (Kaufman and Uhlenberg 2000; Eggebeen and Knoester 2001). It is also indicated that men are entrapped in a vicious circle – they have to provide for their family, thus they take on another job, but at the same time have no time to stay with their kids (Bryan, 2013).

Men care for their families and want to participate in family life

Analyzing the quotations, we observed that men engaged in housework and childcare to show their care for their active participation in family life. Bianchi et al. (2000) distinguished three major attitudes to the division of household duties: based on partners’ time availability, based on their resources (e.g. power related to the economic provider), and based on gender. Similarly, the majority of our respondents claimed to share the chores equally among partners, yet, they offered different explanations on how they decided who did what.

The first perspective suits the time availability perspective (Bianchi et al. 2000). Some of the studied respondents shared their duties basing on their and their partners’ time availability and circumstances. It meant they shared their duties, but these were not assigned to a particular person. One of the studied fathers said:

The one who’s free today is going to cook or do some shopping. They [duties] aren’t assigned to a person (Scientist, 39 years old, 3 children).

By that means, both men and women usually participated in all kinds

of housework, but they alternated, sometimes it was a man who cooked and sometimes it was a woman who went shopping.

On the other hand, some parents shared their duties so that each person did his or her own duties. Thus, women were responsible for some duties and men for others. For example, one of the scientists described it saying:

There are some things… some duties that only my wife does, some duties that we share 50-50 and some duties that only I do (Scientist, 36 years old, 2 children).

Chapter Five

62

However, the studied fathers strongly disagreed with the idea of a gender-role-determined share of duties. They claimed that they shared the housework, but it was not gender-based. They stated it depended on their preferences or abilities. One of the fathers expressed it saying:

Things like, I don’t know, kitchen-like or cleaning… it’s rather my wife, but it’s not stereotypical, like that my wife’s in the kitchen and I do some manly things (Administrative worker, 37 years old, 1 child).

Interestingly, at first, the vast majority of fathers claimed they shared

their duties equally with their partners. Yet, having listed particular activities, they usually concluded similarly to one of the scientist, a 36-year-old father of two: „Of course, we share them equally but…but on second thought, it’s my wife who does more.”

Such results showing that women perform more housework as compared to men are generally confirmed in the literature even though women decrease and men increase the time spent on housework. Moreover, previous studies suggest that the total time devoted to housework becomes shorter for both partners due to the availability of external services like eating out, technological development of cleaning utensils or the devaluation of housework in general (Bianchi et al. 2000).

Eventually, one of the fathers offered an interesting explanation for the way he shared his duties with his wife. He wanted them both to be equally responsible and capable of doing all the housework and childcare. He described the example of his own mother and aunt who, after their husbands’ deaths, were not able to deal with the house and all the responsibility. Therefore, he wanted to avoid such situation:

We are both responsible for our home and we should know how to do the things that normally the other person does, because if something happened to one of us, the other would be responsible for everything [Administrative worker, 37 years old, 1 child].

Thus, even though women usually performed more housework, all of

the interviewed fathers participated in it. None of them stated that they and their wives decided that women would stay at home and do all the housework, while men would earn money and do no household duties. However, neither had we any stay-at-home fathers among the participants.

Fathers also participated in childcare. In many cases, fathers claimed their wives performed more housework, but considering taking care of children, they shared these duties equally and devoted the same or similar amount of time and attention to their children as their wives.


As far as childcare is concerned we try to do it together [to share it] […] All the time in the afternoon, till the evening, we can devote to our kid, so we share these duties equally [Administrative worker, 37 years old, 1 child].

However, previous studies suggest that men understand childcare in a

slightly different way than women. For fathers, childcare means spending time with a child, playing or going out together. They usually do not include „technical” aspects of childcare, like washing children’s clothes, cooking dinners for a child, buying clothes or shoes for children (Gatrell 2007). They are more likely to consider these as housework. Yet, some of the fathers in our study underlined that they were able to stay with their children alone (without the mother) and do everything related to taking care of a child, like cooking, bathing, changing diapers or preparing to sleep. For example:

I asked midwives to teach me how to deal with the kid and there’s no problem whatsoever [Scientist, 39 years old, 1 child]. If it comes to days off, like Saturday or Sunday I try to do as much as I can, including cooking soups for the child, changing diapers, going for a walk [with a child] (Scientist, 35 years old, 1 child].

Similar attitudes were also revealed in former research. At least some

men have become more and more involved in nurturing activities (bathing, changing diapers), especially in countries that have introduced specific policies facilitating fatherhood and where there is a fathers-friendly culture, e.g. in Finland (Eerola 2014).

Summing up the interviewed fathers’ opinions, not only did the fathers engage in earning money for the family needs, but they also participated in housework and childcare.

Men need to face the social norms and expectations about the modern father’s role

Quite recently new initiatives for fathers have been introduced in Poland. Now men are entitled to a two-week paternal leave. Moreover, many companies offer different work-life balance solutions (including initiatives related to childcare) to their employees. However, men use those benefits rather rarely. Analysis of the interviews revealed at least three different reasons for this. Firstly, men simply do not know about what they can and what they cannot use. As one of our interviewees stated:

Chapter Five

64

To be honest, I don’t know all these benefits guaranteed by the state, apart from those I used, i.e. a leave to take care of my wife when she had caesarian section. And then there was this paternal leave, which I ceded to my wife […] A leave to take care of the child, these 2 days a year, I haven’t got a clue that a dad can have it [Scientist, 39 years old, 1 child]. Former research showed that many men accept the fact that during the

first few months of the child’s life, it is the mother who is the most important person and should stay with the child (Gatrell 2007). As we mentioned before, there are fathers who want to take care of the child from the start, nevertheless men rather stay at work so that their wife (partner) can stay at home and care for the children.

Another reason for not using childcare is that men do not have to do it, at least not by means of formal procedures. On the one hand, it is common for Polish parents to get help from grandmothers. Many respondents (both men and women) in our study declared that their own parents (usually their mothers, but in some cases – other family members like e.g. aunts) support them in childcare duties. For instance, they come to take care of the child when the parents are at work:

Grandma comes to our place. […] She stays… I mean we can count on her, that she’ll be there 8 hours day, when we’re at work [Administrative worker, 40 years old, 2 children]. Some interviewees told us that without grandmas’ help, they would not

manage. More interestingly, sometimes grandmother’s role in childcare is taken for granted. It seems quite ordinary for fathers (or, more precisely, both partners) to attend work as usual and the grandma stays with her grandchildren.

As we stated before, men rarely use childcare benefits in a formal way. They seem to be quite sure that they are able to organize their life and duties well, without any special support from the state or their employer:

No, I didn’t take much interest in it, because even so I could always organise it all. I had no need to take any special interest in it [Scientist, 39 years old, 3 children]. Irrespective of men’s self-confidence, the role of supportive and

flexible management is undeniable. Men (as well as women, though) try to reconcile their work and home duties by means of negotiations with their co-workers and supervisors and some compromises, if necessary. Our respondents were not interested in formal solutions, frequently did not know about them, but the majority of them explained that they had no


problems with getting consent to leave earlier or get some days off at short notice:

Of course, to be honest, we rarely do it in an official manner, right, with these official leaves and returns. We [supervisor and subordinate] try to compromise our needs [Administrative worker, 37 years old, 1 child]. But leaves on demand… I don’t even know that something like that exists at all. As I said, it doesn’t work in our institution, because our boss agrees to our annual leaves without any problems [Scientist, 39 years old, 1 child]. Working hours are flexible and so is our management’s approach to different incidents that may occur in the family, e.g. doctor’s appointments, frequent illnesses. There’s no problem, at least in our department, with taking a leave if you really have to, even during the usual working hours [Scientist, 36 years old, 2 children]. The former research showed that the more supportive employer or

management and the more flexible and adaptive workgroups, the more the employed fathers use the benefits (Haas and Hwang 2009). But in fact, it seems that in Poland men avoid formal solutions guaranteed by law if possible and rely on their supervisors’ understanding and support. It does not mean, however, that legal regulations are needless or dispensable. In many companies fathers (and mothers, too) would not stand a chance to take care of their child without the proper legislation. Nevertheless, it seems that flexible, individual, geared to a particular person solutions are more important and useful than strict rules and obligatory initiatives.

What is more, in many enterprises a caring father is considered “strange.” Different legal and organisational solutions have been introduced, but still some companies are rather unsupportive in terms of facilitating fatherhood. Usually white-collar workers get more formal and informal support than blue-collar workers (Haas and Hwang 2009), but even in some modern, children-friendly organisations that employ white-collars unpleasant situations may occur as our respondents described:

I have three [supervisors] over me, so… one can think one thing, but another one can mutter something… and we don’t even know that. Well, we learn that with time, when we hear: “You see, you take the leave again? I don’t want to reproach you, but…” Then you begin to think if there’s a point in doing it [taking the leave] [Scientist, 39 years old, 1 child]. There was a funny incident when I was at the professor’s office to have some papers signed and [another scientist came]. She had some samples to be tested and she said she had to burden me [to get help]. And the professor interrupted her and said: „Mr. X [our respondent] should not be burdened, he is tired enough, because he takes the paternal something or so” [Scientist, 36 years old, 2 children].

Chapter Five

66

According to the former research, both men and women say that negative attitudes of employers/managers/co-workers are one of the main barriers to take paternal leave (Haas and Hwang 2009). Also, it was proven that stay-at-home fathers are not regarded highly by others (Doucet and Merla 2007, Merla 2008) and are at risk of stigmatisation, even though they claim not to be affected by that (Rochlen, McKelley, and Whittaker 2010; Rochlen et al. 2008). In many organisations and groups men are considered to be more of a financial provider than of a carer and their role as a father as well as their needs in terms of work-life balance are not recognized (Burnett et al. 2013). Furthermore, it seems that especially in the workplaces where men prevail, taking care of a child could be seen as unmanly (Brandth and Kvande 2002). Thus, if men do not use childcare benefits, it might be due to the fear of negative comments and hindering their career (e.g. Halford 2006). They want to be involved in childcare, but not at the expense of their job – and more so because they feel and are expected to be responsible for providing money for the family. As a result, they would spend time with their kids after work rather than instead of work.

Moreover, despite anti-discrimination legislation, there is still quite a big difference in women’s and men’s salaries – as high as over 30% in some sectors (Central Statistical Office 2014). Logically, a leave, especially unpaid or not fully-paid, yields greater loss if a father takes it. Thus, if there is a choice, i.e. both woman and man can take a leave to take care of the child, it would be the woman rather than man, because she will lose less money. Such practices were also described in other studies (Brandth and Kvande 2002). The payment gap might also prevent men from taking a leave and risking their job. If a mother lost her job it would not be as bad as if the man lost his better-paid post.

Nevertheless, sometimes men do use childcare benefits. Some of them simply want to be with their kids. However, it seems that in Poland men use those benefits mainly when their wives or partners cannot do it due to e.g. working conditions or characteristics. It depends on the degree of flexibility at work, among others. Some men have more flexible working time, so they can take care of the child or e.g. take them to the doctor, whereas their wife/partner simply cannot leave their job earlier:

It happens that I even go with the kid to the doctor, in different situations […] sometimes it’s like my wife – she works from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. – she’s at work when the appointment with the doctor is possible and I don’t have to be at work then [Scientist, 39 years old, 3 children].


It seems also that in some organisations the law is simply not obeyed-women cannot use childcare benefits and their husbands do it in their place. Although the national statistics show that parental rights are seldom violated in audited companies (Chief Labour Inspectorate 2013), in reality many employees are not allowed to e.g. take a day off to take care of a child:

In our institution the law is respected, but at my wife’s workplace and in many other private companies, those days off [leaves for the childcare] would be lost. So I take them, because she wouldn’t be able to use this benefit, it’s impossible in her job [Scientist, 35 years old, 1 child]. Lack of knowledge or interest, work arrangements and organisational

culture, financial reasons and fear of losing the job certainly influence the decision of using or not using childcare benefits. But there are also other factors, not related directly to the work domain. Namely, stereotypes about men’s and women’s roles are quite strong in the whole society, especially among the members of former generations (i.e. grandparents). Fathers’ parents express (explicitly or not) the expectations that might be contradictory or difficult for a man to fulfil. As one of our respondents declared:

That generation was different, a man was to provide for the family and a woman had to deal with the housework and children’s upbringing. So given this particular context, my situation isn’t really comfortable, because on the one hand our parents expect me to prove myself as a man and to be the head of the family [Scientist, 36 years old, 2 children]. Contemporary parents try to share some household chores, but they are

not supported by their own parents to such an extent. There are long-standing, sometimes very specific, cultural expectations pertaining to gender and family roles, e.g. about cooking. One of our respondents gave such an example:

My mum still can’t imagine that my wife doesn’t cook meals for me. Because it’s deeply embedded in her mind that it is the wife who should prepare dinner for the husband coming back from work. “How’s that? How’s that you have cooked dinner, sonny?” […] This strict division is somehow ingrained in our parents’ minds [Administrative worker, 37 years old, 1 child] Still, it seems not very common for men to get involved in household

duties. Sometimes their own partners contribute to that. On the one hand,

Chapter Five

68

they would like the men to help them, but simultaneously they do everything on their own and thus do not give men a chance to do any housework. One of our respondents mentioned:

Many a man doesn’t deal with the things I do. I mean… I don’t know, they cook once a year, the don’t buy groceries, because they don’t even know what to buy. They open the fridge and everything’s there, waiting for them [Scientist, 39 years old, 3 children]. Another phenomenon that might make fatherhood more difficult is so-

called “maternal gatekeeping” (Puhlman and Pasley 2013). Even though mothers declare that they would appreciate fathers’ involvement in childcare, they might convey some signals, sometimes inadvertently, that discourage men from getting involved in childcare. There is a variety of patterns of behaviour (overt and covert) that may hamper father’s involvement (Puhlman and Pasley 2013). For instance, if a woman says that she has got maternal instinct, a man may feel discouraged and retreat as he comes to think that the mother is skilful enough and does not need any help. This belief of women was also pointed in our interviews:

I do other things, related to childcare or cleaning up, I do most of it to make up for that I don’t do the ironing and cooking. But in reality it’s my wife who does more [childcare duties], because she believes she has a kind of maternal instinct [Scientist, 36 years old, 2 children].

Conclusions and final remarks

The analysis of the interviewed fathers’ opinions results in the general conclusion that today’s fathers need to redefine their roles in the families and to do so, they need to consider their own values and beliefs but also refer to the general stereotypes, gender roles and the common opinions that prevail in their families and work environments. Nowadays men experience the “have it all” syndrome, previously more typical for women trying to reconcile their occupational and family lives (Shirani, Henwood, and Coltart 2012). Moreover, notwithstanding the new initiatives to involve fathers in childcare and the expectations of fathers’ involvement, the stereotype of a man as primary financial provider is prevalent. Furthermore, although fathers seek more contact with their kids and participate in household duties, they are still less likely to involve in intensive caring practices (Shaw, 2008). Further, we also concluded that men are subjected to different expectations at work and in the family. They also have their own concepts about fathering, providing and caring.


Sometimes they can be contradictory and lead to internal and external conflicts. Generally it seems that social patterns and roles are changing, but still a lot has to be done.

Our study, however, has its limitations. Firstly, we interviewed only well-educated and working (employed) men. Yet, literature suggests more problems with defining the role of a father among unemployed men (Shirani, Henwood, and Coltart 2012). Moreover, we included a small study sample, thus, it is worth repeating a similar study among a larger and more varied group of fathers. Lastly, the interviews were not directly aimed to investigate the role of fathers, but to explore the work-life balance-related issues. We recommend further research directly aimed at investigating the understanding of the father’s role and the difficulties related to the fulfilment of this role.

Works Cited

Bianchi, Suzanne M., Melissa A. Milkie, Liana C. Sayer, and John P. Robinson. “Is Anyone Doing the Housework? Trends in the Gender Division of Household Labor.” Social Forces 79 (1): 191–228, 2000.

Brandth, Berit, and Elin Kvande. “Reflexive Fathers: Negotiating Parental Leave and Working Life.” Gender, Work and Organization 9 (2): 186–203, 2002.

Braun, Virginia, and Victoria Clarke. “Using Thematic Analysis in Psychology Using Thematic Analysis in Psychology.” Qualitative Research in Psychology, October 2012: 37–41.

Bryan, Derrick M. “To Parent or Provide? The Effect of the Provider Role on Low-Income Men’s Decisions about Fatherhood and Paternal Engagement.” Fathering 11 (1): 71–89, 2013.

Burnett, Simon B., Caroline J. Gatrell, Cary L. Cooper, and Paul Sparrow. “Fathers at Work: A Ghost in the Organizational Machine.” Gender, Work and Organization 20 (6): 632–46, 2013.

Central Statistical Office. Men and Women on the Labour Market. Warsaw, 2014.

Chief Labour Inspectorate. Chief Labour Inspector Report on National Labour Inspectorate Activity. Warsaw, 2013.

Doucet, Andrea, and Laura Merla. “Stay-at-Home Fathering: A Strategy for Balancing Work and Home in Canadian and Belgian Families.” Special Issue: Fathers, Work and Family Life. 2007.

Eerola, Petteri. “Nurturing, Breadwinning, and Upbringing: Paternal Responsibilities by Finnish Men in Early Fatherhood.” Community, Work & Family 17 (3): 308–24, 2014.

Chapter Five

70

Eggebeen, David J., and Chris Knoester. “Does Fatherhood Matter for Men?” Journal of Marriage and Family 63 (2): 381–93, 2001

Gatrell, Caroline. “Whose Child Is It Anyway? The Negotiation of Paternal Entitlements within Marriage.” Sociological Review 55: 352–72, 2007.

Haas, Linda, and C. Philip Hwang. “Is Fatherhood Becoming More Visible at Work? Trends in Corporate Support for Fathers Taking Parental Leave in Sweden.” Fathering 7 (3): 303–21, 2009.

Halford, Susan. “Collapsing the Boundaries? Fatherhood, Organization and Home-Working.” Gender, Work & Organization 13 (4): 383–402, 2006.

Kaufman, Gayle, and Peter Uhlenberg. “The Influence of Parenthood on the Work Effort of Married Men and Women.” Social Forces 78 (3): 931–47, 2000.

Machin, Anna. “Mind the Gap: The Expectation and Reality of Involved Fatherhood.” Fathering 13 (1): 36–59, 2015.

Merla, Laura. “Determinants, Costs, and Meanings of Belgian Stay-at-Home Fathers: An International Comparison.” Fathering 6 (2): 113–32, 2008.Puhlman, Daniel J., and Kay Pasley. “Rethinking Maternal Gatekeeping.” Journal of Family Theory & Review 5 (3): 176–93, 2013.

Rochlen, Aaron B., Ryan a. McKelley, and Tiffany a. Whittaker. “Stay-at-Home Fathers’ Reasons for Entering the Role and Stigma Experiences: A Preliminary Report.” Psychology of Men & Masculinity 11 (4): 279–85, 2010.

Rochlen, Aaron B., Marie-Anne Suizzo, Ryan a. McKelley, and Vanessa Scaringi. “‘I’m Just Providing for My Family’: A Qualitative Study of Stay-at-Home Fathers.” Psychology of Men & Masculinity 9 (4): 193–206, 2008.

Shaw, Susan M. “Family Leisure and Changing Ideologies of Parenthood.” Sociology Compass 2 (2): 688–703, 2008.

Shirani, Fiona, Karen Henwood, and Carrie Coltart. “‘Why Aren’t You at Work?’: Negotiating Economic Models of Fathering Identity.” Fathering 10 (3): 274–90, 2012.

Notes 11Department of Health and Work Psychology, Nofer Institute of Occupational Medicine, ul. w. Teresy od Dzieci tka Jezus 8, 91-348 ód , Poland, phone: +48 42 631-45-93, e-mail: [email protected]; [email protected] 2 The Project funded by the Norwegian funds, under the Polish-Norwegian Research Cooperation realized by National Centre for Research and Development

CHAPTER SIX

“I WANT DADDY”: A FATHER AS A CAREGIVER OF A HOSPITALIZED CHILD

IN THE EYES OF HOSPITAL STAFF

MA GORZATA PIETRAS-MROZICKA Research and everyday practice show it is usually the mother who takes care of a sick child at medical facilities.1 Academic studies rarely analyze the figure of a father as the only or basic caregiver during hospitalization. However, more and more fathers are getting engaged in caregiving and actively participate in the treatment process nowadays.

Who is the man next to the mother?

What is the contemporary perception of the figure of a father?2 Fatherhood is often analyzed within the theory of the cultural script by family sociologists.3 Following the representatives of symbolic interactionists, being a father is considered a socio-cultural construct which results from the realization of the content of the script. Therefore, the cultural and sociological contexts play a crucial role in the way fatherhood is created, fulfilled and perceived.4

Contemporary fathers play multiple roles within families as opposed to a more traditional model by Talcott Parsons,5 in which the role of a father was to ensure enough material resources for his family. Newer research undermines the unequal understanding of parents’ roles in childrearing.6 Miko aj G bka (2010, 71-74) defined at least ten different roles of a new father, some of them stemming from the traditional perception of the figure of a father, but others presenting a more modern perspective. I assumed that for the research the most important ones would turn out to be the roles of a caregiver, life-giver, educator, friend, and leisure time

Chapter Six

72

organizer, as fathers at hospitals would not limit themselves only to caregiving, but also employ other roles.

New fathering

Fathers’ engagement as caregivers of hospitalized children inscribes itself in the emerging concept of new fathers. It is reflected in social discourse in which the following terms function: attachment fathering, nurturant fathering, positively involved fathering, responsible fathering, hands-on fathering, generative fathering. The model of fathering they refer to requires a conscious and responsible act to engage in all aspects of children’s lives which is defined as “the art of everyday life” according to E. Badinter.7

Nowadays, being a father means making an effort to establish a close relation with a child. The new fathers become involved in children’s education, health, leisure time. As M. Lamb (2004) puts it clearly, “many fathers no longer avoid the messy child care activities they used to disparage and instead become co-parents across a broad array of tasks” (12).

The phenomenon of new fathers is connected with the idea of attachment parenting which focuses on the close and true relationship between a parent and a child.8 liwi ski (2015b) states that ”Attachment parenting is a chance for men” as both parents do have equal chances to gain experience from the very beginning of their parenthood (132). Similarly, the Slow Parenting Movement emphasizes the need “to be still and pause”9 in order to build parents’ confidence and satisfaction.

Numerous modern fathers eager to fulfil their social role inscribe themselves in the engaged fathering, modifying the script of a father.10 The transformation of the quality of fathering results in further changes in the social perception of the figure of a father.

Constraints upon fathers

Although the expectations on fathers are rising and challenging men’s individual possibilities, the full bloom of fathers may be constrained by the myth of mothers’ special role. It enables female domination over children’s lives and puts fathers at risk of being marginalized by spouses, families, medical, educational and social institutions. Presupposing men’s incompetence and irresponsibility, they treat fathers as less important parents. Consequently, engaged fathers face numerous obstacles, also at medical institutions.11 When examining a child, doctors direct their

A Father as a Caregiver in the Eyes of Hospital Staff 73

questions and explanations mainly to mothers in presence of both parents (Sikorska 2015, 189-206; Stelter 2013, 61-62).

Regardless of the barriers, fathers get involved in child-rearing. They do that because of being more aware, better educated, influenced by media discourse, willing to maintain a satisfactory relation with the mother of the child, but also because of decreasing number of children, and perception of caregiving as a leisure, not a job (Szlendak 2012, 451-452).

Hospitalisation and attachment fathering

Nevertheless, men’s involvement in treatment processes of their children is still incomplete and the fathers’ primary role is still to ensure financial stability to the family. On the individual level they withdraw from caregiving because of applying less effective strategies to cope with stress and being more vulnerable to depression than mothers.12 The ones who assist children differ from the visiting fathers inasmuch as they turn to emotions more frequently, are more conscientious and conciliatory. Consequently, they gain better emotional contact with children (Pilarczyk, 38).

The research methodology

The research has been carried out in a paediatric hospital in ód at the Allergy and Immunology Internal Medicine Unit. As a method, the In-Depth Interview was used. The method allowed me to follow topics of interest and the one ones which emerged during conversation.

I was met with rather positive and cooperative attitudes of medical staff. The majority were interested in the research and eager to participate in it. I interviewed twenty members of hospital staff: twelve doctors, mainly women as there was only one male doctor, six nurses and two orderlies. Their duration of employment was from seven months to forty years. The interviews were realized one-to-one on hospital premises.

Few or many?

The majority of interlocutors believed fathers of children at all ages were present as caregivers on ward. Only one person stated that a father on ward is a rare phenomenon. Half of respondents believed there were more fathers assisting children than in previous years. One of them said:

Chapter Six

74

Currently it is normal, nothing extraordinary, that the father stays next to a child while at hospital but it was unthinkable, when I started my job, for a father to come here. It was something… It was a… sensation.(FD, 30YED13)

It seems that fathers’ presence on ward does not evoke this kind of tender emotions and surprise it used to.

The ongoing change is judged positively and perceived as resulting from the increasing societal awareness referring to gender equality and health. Still, they emphasized mothers prevail on ward. The perceived proportion of fathers and mothers varied from ten per ninety to forty per sixty percent, accordingly. In the case of patients for diagnostic purposes, considered as coming from so-called better families, the proportions of mothers and fathers were believed to be equal

What are you doing here, Dad?

My presupposition was that the younger generation of hospital staff would perceive fathers as natural caregivers and apply egalitarian attitudes towards them. Nevertheless, hospital workers only sometimes notice it is a father’s duty as in the following words,

He is a father, a caregiver, so he also has to take care of his child, the same as when he gets the child from a kindergarten, or when he is at the parent – teacher meeting.(MD, 3YED)

On the contrary, many looked for a kind of objective justification for those mothers whose children remain at hospital with their fathers. The hospital staff mostly seemed to believe that fathers "replaced" mothers for reasons connected with job arrangements, other children at home, and breastfeeding. In their opinions, fathers became caregivers because of earning less than mothers, being unemployed or having flexible work arrangements.

It is mainly about the job, who can take a leave. Because if a mother does not work, it’s for sure that the mother will stay with the child. (FD, 30YED) One person said that fathers might want to offer their children the

paternal care they did not get themselves in their own childhood. Such motivation may be considered an example of intergenerational compensation.

The hospital staff noticed the roles of fathers were undergoing substantial changes and described the fathers on ward as more aware and


better educated.14Still, the majority of my interlocutors seemed to perceive fathers as substitutes for mothers. The motivation behind the stay, according to the staff, can be multiple, but usually stemming from mothers’ other urgent obligations. It is sometimes easier for a father to stay at the hospital with an older child than at home with a younger one and fulfil the varied roles mothers usually do.

Mothers usually come, I think. Yes, definitely… Daddies, I think, they come in such emergency situations, yes, so they come when, it is like ‘I cannot because I stay with the other child, because I work, or because I have other important things, you will stay, and you, sort of, take care.’ (FD, 9YED)

Do you care, Daddy? Styles of fathering

The informants believed that the fathers seen on ward did not present homogenous attitudes towards children as,15

70 percent get involved, when it comes to fathers, and the 30 percent, they are here because someone has to be there with the child. (FN, 35YED) Basing on the information received, the following styles can be noticed

among fathers as caregivers: 1. “active caregivers” who are caring and warm fathers able to take

care of their child in all aspects, know the child and their medical history and are ready to make responsible decisions,

2. “playmates,” fathers who prefer not to get involved in medical procedures and parent-doctor communication, do not have the detailed knowledge of the child’s medical history, but are active in spending time with children,

3. “fictional” fathers who are present only physically but do not get involved in procedures, care and play, and just limit themselves to letting the child watch movies or play computer games on tablets, “passive caregivers,”

4. bored, tired and “offended” fathers who feel forced but unwilling to take care of the child during hospitalisation. They blame the mothers, the children and the hospital staff for the situation which is so difficult for them. It is best illustrated in the following words,

There are such fathers. They are here because they do not have any other choice and they are not too involved and not too knowledgeable, they

Chapter Six

76

poorly care and are poorly informed. They are just physically present, (…) they remain passive. Those who are here because the situation forced them to be, that is really difficult at some moments, it is very hard to communicate with them. (FD, 5YED)

However, more than a half of interviewees emphasized those fathers

who decided to be there were already involved, attached and nurturing fathers able to change a diaper, make an inhalation, talk to the child and be with them. Such fathers are ready to accept many discomforts.16 The medical staff seemed to believe in majority that fathers are ready to do what mothers usually do, although the quality of performance may differ.

Notwithstanding, half expressed the belief nobody cared like a mother stating that paternal involvement cannot be compared to the maternal one, which is rather intuitive. To illustrate,

The treatment process is completely different with a mum. (FD, 3YED) Mums are usually more caring and tender and those children are clean, with changed clothes. When they are with a daddy it is different. Sometimes they are not necessarily in order. And they are more, sort of frisky. Nonetheless, mothers are mothers. (FD, 3YED) … (…) I have the feeling, mothers manage the best, they better see to everything. (FN, 40YED) As for the leisure time, the hospital staff believes fathers most often

spend time with children using computers and playing board games. If the child has a book, it is mostly the mother who reads it.17 The father’s role is more often perceived as the one of a playmate than an educator and carer.

The interviewees appraised fathers for behaviours and activities which are treated as normal and even demanded from mothers. Nobody praises mothers for applying an ointment on a child’s skin, but some respondents emphasized fathers were “even able to do that skilfully” and tenderly. It can be concluded that the phenomenon of a father able to nurture his child is still perceived as rather exceptional. Two interlocutors were fascinated with a father of a very high social status who stayed at the hospital. Both emphasized how caring and tender the father was and even “he himself read books for the child,” while the mother “in high heels only visited” the child (FN, 40YED). They seemed to condemn the mother for her absence and praise the father for doing something which was not expected of him.

Furthermore, the hospital staff observed that a father’s presence on ward frequently resulted from a mother’s decision. Only when a mother is


ready to delegate duties and gives her consent, fathers get fully involved in the process.

If the mum has already decided, when the mum decides to leave (the child with the father), they are really resourceful. (FD, 19YED) What is more, fathers’ involvement may depend on how involved

mothers are. Fathers are made more engaged, more involved, generally in life, not only at a hospital. I think it results mainly from mothers’ work, their attention to it, they need to share duties. (FD, 35YED) When a mother is aware of her motherhood, she works on the relation

between the father and the child, and encourages the former to get engaged. When a mother herself is rather uninvolved then both parents present, as one of my respondents said, “rather pathological” attitudes.

The hospital staff noticed that parents on ward might only create an image of nurturing parents. They may want to show only what they want to and behave completely differently at home or in the hospital rooms when the door is closed.

Do you know me?

Fathers’ medical knowledge being discussed, the opinions presented were twofold. On the one hand, few doctors praised fathers for their broad knowledge both of the child and medical issues. Some noticed that fathers sometimes overhauled mothers and became experts, supported by literature and the Internet.

Almost one-third of my interlocutors noticed that fathers knew nothing or were merely aware of the “tip of the iceberg.” Such fathers totally depend on mothers and turn to them while being interviewed at the admittance to the hospital. To illustrate it,

He says, you know, let’s call my wife and my wife will answer all your questions, and then the father plays the role of a fictional caregiver, because he is completely disoriented. The mother, indeed, somewhere… sitting at her workplace and over the phone she gives information. (FD, 3YED) It shows the mothers’ engagement in the procedure, as fathers often

look for their help by phoning or using notes prepared by the mothers. Some doctors talked about it with a smile suggesting “such are the fathers

Chapter Six

78

and it is their right be like that.” Others found it frustrating and to make the procedure tiresome and inconclusive. To eliminate the risk of incomplete medical history, two respondents told they had an unwritten rule when they make the entrance interview with fathers. They make annotations in the medical documentation that the information comes from a father. In the medical jargon, it means an incomplete medical history, which shows that the doctors presuppose fathers’ incompetence.

Who are you?

Doctors and nurses think fathers in the majority of cases cope with stress worse than mothers do, and tend to withdraw or get easily nervous when the situation is drastic or diagnosis pessimistic.

As for stress coping strategies, fathers are believed to apply mostly: aggression, withdrawal, looking for task solution, and searching for solid data.18 Generally speaking, only few fathers make use of emotional coping strategies. Two interviewees admitted that fathers cried but in loneliness, trying to keep a straight face when next to a child.

According to hospital staff, caregiving fathers differ substantially from the visiting ones in their engagement and responsibility in the majority of cases. They ask for details, care for and play with their children. Visiting fathers usually arrive tired after work to talk for a while and go home. They hardly ever communicate with doctors, nor organize free time activities for children.

Those who only visit do not usually have any contact with the doctor, I realize it now, generally they just see the child, talk to, leave, and all the information regarding the child, it’s the mum. (FD, 35YED) Those here are more attached to the children, those kids resort to them, they differ from the visiting fathers, the treatment runs better, they help here a lot. Surely, they have got a better relation with the children than a daddy who just comes, talks a bit and that is all. One can see that. (FD, 3YED) Doctors who declared visiting fathers did not differ from caregivers

might have had a worse insight into the situation. Their opinions could result from the lack of direct contact with those fathers. It probably proves that the visiting fathers do not engage in the parent-doctor communication, treating it as the mothers’ domain.


We need to talk

Only one-fourth of the interviewed members of the hospital staff thought it was easier to communicate with the father because of “typical for men” traits of personality such as solid, positive, avoiding emotions and meticulous. Eight people believed mothers were better listeners and they remembered more information passed. Furthermore, as another person said,

daddies find it hard to understand the way of applying the ointment makes difference. Then it is difficult to talk to such a father. (FD, 3YED) One person admitted she changed the way of communication and the

load of information passed depending on the gender of the caregiver. We usually say less to a father, because they are like that. Actually, I do not know why it is done like that, because I do, I intuitively tell everything that I know about the child’s state to the mum and she will accept it, the vast majority of it she will remember and thanks to that she will have the knowledge. And to the father I do not tell everything, Only the most important things. Because they will forget the rest, as they need only hard, solid data, no details. (FD, 5YED) Moreover, eleven respondents expressed the belief that “mum is

always a mum.” It discloses their attitude towards fathers on ward as rather gender-dependent, notwithstanding declarations.19

The doctors say that even nurturing and aware fathers “give way” to mothers at the discharge. This is the moment when the mother appears at the hospital to receive the discharge papers and listen to medical orders.

It frequently ends up that finally, when the child is being discharged from the hospital, the mum arrives anyway. And she receives all the binding information. In the end, she takes care. (FD, 9YED) Fathers are seen as demanding, more flexible and ready to accept the

orders and conditions.20 The perception of parents as demanding seems to vary depending on

the employees’ gender and position but also on the caregiver’s gender which is illustrated in the words,

“it’s like that, if a mum is a difficult and demanding person, we, just like that, naturally let her be like that. Because she is worried, because she is a mum, because the majority of women are like that. I am personally not

Chapter Six

80

surprised that the mum is inquisitive, nervous or criticizing. Because mums are usually like that, aren’t they? We give the mums the right to be difficult. If a father is difficult and calls everything into question, demanding… then this is difficult. (FD, 5YED) Father-staff communication evokes the problem of the way of

addressing the caregiver as a mother.21 Some respondents realized the need to reformulate it, as nowadays old forms may cause confusion or anger.

“I usually ask if there is a caregiver and I see if there is a mother, or a father and I ask. When they are longer I already know (the sex of the caregiver). (FN, 27YED)

There is a problem…

The interviewees did not observe many gender-specific obstacles on ward. They mentioned fathers could feel uncomfortable because of coeducational rooms, female caregivers’ dominance, and not having a male companion to talk to. However, fathers are believed to quickly adapt to the difficult conditions. Still, some doctors believed fathers were more reluctant to accept discomforts like the lack of sleep and food.

Other problems appear when a father assists his teenage daughter, because she might not want to discuss all the details or be examined in the father’s presence.

Four members of the hospital staff expressed the opinion that fathers did not face any barriers and obstacles and were treated equally in all situations.

Now you know, Daddy…

The hospital staff notice the huge potential which hospitalisation, hard as it is, offers to the father and the child. Seven interviewees noticed it builds stronger ties, which may turn out to have positive results in the future. The other benefits were the knowledge about the child and medical procedures, time spent with the child, satisfaction, intergenerational compensation, feeling of trust and security. Successful nurturing of a sick child may act as a trigger in further identity development of fathers. Feeling proud of themselves, men gain more self-confidence in child-related situations, which promotes positive attitudes in them.


What is more, fathers’ attitudes on ward, proving their real engagement and responsibility, gradually influence how they are perceived by doctors, nurses and orderlies, and improve the quality of communication.

All caregivers are equal but some are more…

Most of my interlocutors declared gender should not influence the ways the caregivers are treated. Between the lines, however, the contradictory opinion could be read. The analysis of the transcripts shows many respondents automatically started talking about mothers when asked about fathers. Both parents being discussed, utterances referring to mothers appeared in the narration.22

Doctors admitted they automatically addressed mothers when asking questions and passing the medical information in the presence of both parents. The following words illustrate it best:

We usually turn to mothers and we treat the dad a little like (absent). It is possible that we somehow unconsciously take it for granted that the mother will know more. And they do know more.…and fathers get lost in all that and they often need sheets of papers from mothers. (FD, 1YED) Other narrations also expressed the belief that nobody cares for a child

as well as mothers because of an innate, automatic ability to nurture. Paradoxically, this makes mothers more vulnerable to be blamed for the deterioration of the health of their child.

Overall, when there is no reasonable excuse for the mother’s absence, she is perceived as not fully engaged. The father’s absence is met with more understanding as it seems his role of the breadwinner is perceived as equally important.

Constraints to the research

A considerable constraint to the results of the research is the problem of representativeness caused by the relatively small sample. The results are limited to the analysis of opinions of personnel of one hospital only. The organizational culture of the institution may influence the way fathers are perceived as caregivers of hospitalized children.23 The hospital where the research was done is an institution with rather parent-friendly regulations and staff attitudes. It might have affected the way the interviewees described the fathers.

Another constraint can be the female perspective obtained in the interviews. There was only one male doctor in the whole department. What

Chapter Six

82

is more, the final results may display the perception of fathers by people with higher education as the respondents were mainly doctors, some nurses, and only two orderlies.

Further research in varied hospitals may enrich the results by presenting contradictory opinions and attitudes.

Conclusions

It seems the scripts of the role of a father are undergoing important transformations also when it refers to the role of a father as a caregiver. My respondents expressed the belief the roles are changing. Their perception of fathers coincides in many aspects with the main assumptions of the philosophy of attachment fathering. That is possible thanks to the roles those fathers seem to adopt and which are characteristic of the new fathers.

Firstly, the fathers’ presence on ward has been noticed by the interviewees although the mothers’ dominance was emphasized. Some opinions presented show that the fathers have always been engaged during hospitalization but received less attention in the public discourse. Those fathers are mainly perceived as caring and tenderly, but some negative figures also appeared in the narrations.

It is worth noticing that the declared attitudes towards gender equality on ward may slightly differ from the real ones. On the surface tolerance is declared but underneath the relics of traditional understanding of parental roles are revealed in the thorough analysis. They prove the stereotypical approach to fatherhood influences the opinions of hospital staff.

Furthermore, the respondents observe and are fully aware of the differences between paternal and maternal care. Many think that different does not mean worse, but opinions that a mum does certain things better are not isolated. It may be an illustration of the limits of social acceptance for the contemporary changes in the perception of fathers. According to

liwi ski, such differences are normal and require to be socially accepted for the sake of children, fathers and whole families ( liwi ski 2015, 16-20). In consequence, the fathers’ involvement gets the chance to increase.

Moreover, it seems that a mother’s consent is also a prerequisite for a fuller engagement of a father in parenting. Such a consent is a factor sine qua non which lets the father to be the designated caregiver of a hospitalized child. Mothers need to withdraw slightly to leave space for fathers because as Kotlarska-Michalska noticed the “Polish mother” may prevent males from taking responsibility in situations connected with childcare, an example of which is hospitalization (34-47). The research


shows this issue is present in utterances of the hospital staff as they observe that the fathers can really get involved only when the mothers trust they are able to do so.

To continue, we can ask whether the engaged fathers always take the complete responsibility for all aspects of their children’s lives, hospital treatment being one of them? This is what Nesterowicz-Wyborska noticed describing the three modes of involved paternal care distinguished by Lamb: availability, engagement, and responsibility (2011, 140). The four types of fathering defined in this research seem to prove that the fathers on ward eagerly fulfil the availability and engagement components, but step back when responsibility is considered. Then they make way for the mothers as in the case of entrance interviews or discharge conversations.

Finally, the perception of fathers in the eyes of the hospital staff may depend on individual personalities and backgrounds of the interviewees, as it is a subjective matter. Much information was to be read between the lines and when exceptional experiences connected with the figure of a father were narrated. Then, the real way of perceiving fathers was displayed or at least suggested.

In conclusion, being aware of the constraints of the research, the issue seems to demand further studies in other institutions in order to meet the representativeness requirement. The knowledge of the way fathers are perceived as caregivers may promote better mutual understanding of everyone involved during hospitalization. It may influence the way of treating and communicating with the fathers on ward. The improved communication may enable fathers to gain awareness and confidence indispensable to take full responsibility and actively participate in the hospitalization of their children. It would take us closer to what the following words illustrate best:

Aware fathers, this is an aware fatherhood, so mature, tender, empathic to alarge degree, this is the contemporary generation for whom fatherhood is obvious. Staying with the child, it is not anything difficult for them. They are from this generation. They are aware. (FD, 5YED)

Such perception of fathers as caregivers may bring advantages to

fathers, children, and hospital employees and facilitate the treatment process.

Chapter Six

84

Works Cited

Bakiera, Lucyna. Zaanga owane rodzicielstwo a autokreacyjny aspekt rozwoju doros ych. Warszawa: Difin, 2013.

G bka, Miko aj. “Spo eczna rola ojca.” In Postawy rodzicielskie wspó czesnych ojców, edited by Maria Kujawska & Lidia Huber 71-84. Pozna : Wydawnictwo Naukowe Wy szej Szko y Nauk Humanistycznych i Dziennikarstwa, 2010.

Kotlarska-Michalska, Anna. “Rola ojca w uj ciu socjologicznym.” In Postawy rodzicielskie wspó czesnych ojców, edited by Maria Kujawska & Lidia Huber, 34-47. Pozna : Wydawnictwo Naukowe Wy szej Szko y Nauk Humanistycznych i Dziennikarstwa, 2010.

Lamb, Michael E. The Role of the Father in Child Development. New Jersey: John Wiley & Sons, 2004.

Nesterowicz-Wyborska, Justyna. “Jak bada ojcostwo, czyli o potrzebie (Re)konceptualizacji poj cia ojcowskiego zaanga owania.” In Wybrane problemy wspó czesnych ma e stw i rodziny, edited by Hanna Liberska & Alicja Malina, 137-148. Warszawa: Difin, 2011.

Parsons, Talcott. Struktura spo eczna a osobowo . Warszawa: PWN, 1969.

Pilarczyk, Jakub, Pawe czak-Szastok, Marta, Wojtasik, Natalia, Lizi czyk, Sebastian, Urasi ski, Tomasz, Wachowiak, Jacek, Szczepa ski, Tomasz. “Analiza funkcjonowania psychospo ecznego ojców opiekuj cych si w szpitalu dzie mi z chorobami nowotworowymi.” Psychoonkologia 2, (2012): 37-42.

Reniecka, Edyta. “Idea rodzicielstwa blisko ci.” In Wybrane problemy wspó czesnych ma e stw i rodziny, edited by Hanna Liberska & Alicja Malina, 131-135. Warszawa: Difin, 2011.

Sikorska, Ma gorzata. Nowa matka, nowy ojciec, nowe dziecko. O nowym uk adzie si w polskich rodzinach. Warszawa: Wydawnictwa Akademickie i Pedagogiczne, 2015.

Stelter, aneta. Pe nienie ról rodzicielskich wobec dziecka niepe nosprawnego intelektualnie. Warszawa: Difin, 2013.

Szlendak, Tomasz. Socjologia rodziny. Ewolucja, historia, zró nicowanie. Warszawa: PWN, 2012.

liwi ski, Krzysztof. “Ojcostwo po omacku.” In Droga do ojca, edited by Magda Brzezi ska & Paulina Zaborek, 16-20. Kielce: Charaktery, 2015.

—. “Blisko po m sku.” In Droga do ojca, edited by Magda Brzezi ska & Paulina Zaborek, 129-134. Kielce: Charaktery, 2015.


Notes 1 See Jakub Pilarczyk, Marta Pawe czak-Szastok, Natalia Wojtasik, Sebastian Lizi czyk, Tomasz Urasi ski, Jacek Wachowiak, Tomasz Szczepa ski, “Analiza funkcjonowania psychospo ecznego ojców opiekuj cych si w szpitalu dzie mi z chorobami nowotworowymi,” Psychoonkologia 2, (2012): 37-42. 2 An answer to the question needs to be considered from an interdisciplinary viewpoint, as the theoretical grounding should account for psychological, theological, pedagogical, anthropological, historical, and sociological perspectives. Because of the constraints of the article, only selected sociological approaches are mentioned in the considerations. 3 See Anna Kotlarska-Michalska, „Rola ojca w uj ciu socjologicznym,” in Postawy rodzicielskie wspó czesnych ojców, eds. Maria Kujawska & Lidia Huber (Pozna : Wydawnictwo Naukowe Wy szej Szko y Nauk Humanistycznych i Dziennikarstwa, 2010), 34-47. The script is a general pattern which the society considers a norm of behavior. 4 See Justyna Nesterowicz-Wyborska, “Jak bada ojcostwo, czyli o potrzebie (Re)konceptualizacji poj cia ojcowskiego zaanga owania,” in Wybrane problemy wspó czesnych ma e stw i rodziny, eds. Hanna Liberska & Alicja Malina (Warszawa: Difin, 2011), 137-147. The symbolic interactionists understood fathers’ roles as emerging from the continuous interaction between partners (mothers and fathers, fathers and the society, fathers and children). 5 Talcott Parsons, Struktura spo eczna a osobowo (Warszawa: PWN, 1969). Parsons believed that the parents’ roles within a family could be instrumental or expressive. The latter role was usually limited to a mother who satisfied emotional needs. The instrumental one has been traditionally understood as a fathers’ domain; the one of a leader and the financial provider. 6 For more see Lamb, The Role of the Father, 12. Lamb and others showed infants did not differentiate between parents basing on sex, if given contact and possibility to build relations with both of them. 7 After Bakiera, Zaanga owane rodzicielstwo, 146. It is not played impromptu and does not refer to spectacular events but it is active, responsible and aware fathering. 8 For more see Edyta Reniecka, “Idea rodzicielstwa blisko ci,” in Wybrane problemy wspó czesnych ma e stw i rodziny, eds. Hanna Liberska & Alicja Malina (Warszawa: Difin, 2011) 131-135. Attachment parenting was defined by an American paediatrician William Sears and derives from the attachment theory by John Bowlby who believes a child builds strong emotional ties with the caretaker. It is achieved and performed by activities like co-sleeping, carrying, reacting to a child’s cry. 9 Slow Parenting Movement (blog) at Wordpress.com, “Welcome to Slow Parenting”, accessed August, 15 2015, available at: https://slowparentingmovement.wordpress.com/welcome-to-slow-parenting/. 10 For more see Lucyna Bakiera, Zaanga owane rodzicielstwo a autokreacyjny aspekt rozwoju doros ych (Warszawa: Difin, 2013), 144-145. The term fathering is used here as opposed to fatherhood. Fatherhood is understood in the patriarchal

Chapter Six

86

tradition, while fathering refers to activities which aim at creating special and close bonds between a father and a child. 11 Other most common constraints are the following: parking spots for mothers, rooms for a mother with a child at supermarkets, reluctance to paternal leaves and fathers’ usage of parental leaves, not to mention the social action “Phone Your Mom” at Polish hospitals. 12 Pilarczyk et al., Analiza funkcjonowania psychospo ecznego, 38. The strategies fathers usually apply are task-oriented and avoidance-oriented strategies. 13 For the purpose of the article the following abbreviations are introduced: YED – years of employment duration (e.g. 30 YED means 30 years of employment duration), FD – female doctor, FN – female nurse, MD – male doctor). 14 They noticed the same phenomenon as Szlendak, who suggested engaged fathers belonged to the group with higher educational levels and awareness. For more see Szlendak, Socjologia rodziny, 451-452. 15 It is worth emphasizing that the hospital staff notices both pathological and nurturing behaviors. 16 The most commonly mentioned discomforts fathers could face on ward were sleepless nights, cleaning a vomiting child, comforting and soothing a crying baby. 17 Such opinions were expressed by six interviewees. 18 In order of frequency of being mentioned. 19 Three-fourths of the hospital staff said fathers and mothers were equally treated by them. 20 What seems interesting is the fact that mainly doctors see fathers as a bit difficult and demanding in the first moments at the hospital, and then calming down and ready to accept the situation. On the other hand, nurses reported men were kind and polite at the admission to the hospital and then they showed their real, rather negative, nature. Because of their job specifics, nurses have the opportunity to observe fathers’ behaviors in various contexts (during injections, in hospital rooms where they are more relaxed). The one-to-one communication with doctors can be affected by certain image creation because parents may try to behave better and communicate more politely to make a good impression on doctors. 21 The Internet blogs written by fathers support my observation that the hospital staff usually addresses the caregiver as “a mother” when calling for medical procedures. There is a special telephone “to call your mom” free of charge or the payment for the “bed for a mother” in many Polish paediatric hospitals. 22 The following utterances were quite frequent: “because those mothers, those women.….” 23 The way that the caregivers in general (both men and women) are treated may be the outcome of specific internal regulations, and consequently, it may correlate with similar attitudes towards fathers as caregivers there. Institutions with strict regulations referring to parents’ presence may see the fathers there as taken out of their male context while parent-friendly hospitals may influence the way male caregivers are perceived by their staff. Thus the presence of fathers may not be seen a strange or unique phenomenon.

SECTION II A

PAPER PAPAS: FATHERHOOD IN LITERATURE

FATHERHOOD IN CONTEMPORARY POPULAR FICTION

CHAPTER SEVEN

FATHERHOOD, MASCULINITY AND COMPLEX FATHER-CHILD RELATIONSHIPS

IN TIM WINTON’S FICTION

TOMASZ GADZINA

A sense of Australian identity developed at the end of the nineteenth century. In his book Inventing Australia (1981), Richard White suggested that the foundations of the Australian identity lay in an Australian type–a character combining physical and racial characteristics with a moral, social and psychological identity (White 64). Therefore, the process of national identity formation was strongly influenced by nationalist and racial ideologies of the time. Consequently, the creation of the desired national character was based on racial prejudices, anxieties, social norms, and gender roles.

In the late nineteenth century, the generation of the Australia-born began to associate their distinctiveness with the peculiar environment of the continent. In search for the original character of their nation, Australian writers and artists of the late 1880s and 1890s sought inspiration in bush life and landscapes. Most of them were associated with the Bulletin, a Sydney magazine that promoted Australianness, and openly rejected British culture and values. The Bulletin and its contributors successfully promoted a new image of the Australian type–a white bushman–a sunburned, generous, self-reliant and confident, restless and resourceful bush worker (Goodwin 38). Bush dwellers became new national heroes; they were pioneers leading simple and tiresomely monotonous lives in the outback, where they had to face a number of dangers posed by nature such as wild animals, droughts, floods and bushfires. In such environment, there was no place for women; thus the emphasis was on masculinity and masculine friendship. Consequently, women were not granted access to bush experience and were excluded from the image of the Australian 'type' (White 83). This does not mean, however, that in art and literature women were completely absent from the

Tim Winton’s Fiction 89

outback. Female characters accompanied bushmen, but they were usually given passive and marginal roles of wives, daughters, mothers, and housewives (Kossew 26).

Intolerant White Australia policy introduced at the beginning of the twentieth century had a profound influence on the cultural and social life of the Australians. The myth of a brave white heterosexual male hero (the bushman and the digger/Anzac soldier) circulated in the media, popular culture and literature, fossilizing the image of the masculine national figure in collective Australian consciousness. In her 1988 study Women and the Bush, Kay Shaffer noticed that by the end of the twentieth century

countless conferences and research projects produced reports and recommendations about women's health, economic position, political rights, educational standards, as well as problems related to racial, class and ethnic differences between women. Anti-discrimination laws and affirmative action legislation have been introduced. Still, despite the changes in laws, attitudes, rights and opportunities–all of which have broadened the horizons for women–masculine bias has maintained its stranglehold. (Shaffer 7)

In a similar vein, in Being Australian: Narratives of National Identity

(2007), Catriona Elder observes that in the Australian culture the bush has symbolically functioned as the archetypal Australian place and the bushman as the archetypal Australian, and although these myths have recently been contested and parodied, they still remain vibrant: "There is still a soft spot in Australian national stories for the bush bloke, even though the rapid changes in Australian society over the past 20 years have sorely tested the resolve of this mythic type" (73-74). Consequently, despite the fact that a lot has been done in Australia in the last two decades to tackle the problems of racial, class, ethnic and sex inequalities, Australian culture is still predominantly masculine.

In his works, Tim Winton repeatedly addresses traditional Australian masculinity. However, he seems not to perceive masculinity in terms of patriarchal ideology and fixed gender roles; rather, his characters tend to undermine conventional gender stereotypes. Winton often endows his male protagonists with qualities associated with the feminine–emotions, intuition and sensitivity–while his female figures are no longer caring mothers and wives, cease to be central to and do not unite and support the family and household1. As a result, the common conviction that the mother stands for tenderness, care, love and warmth, and the father represents manliness, strength and independence is often reversed in his works. Moreover, Winton's idea of masculinity is bound up with the concept of

Chapter Seven

90

fatherhood exploited with relation to complex family relations. The consequence of a huge variety of father-child relationships and contexts in which they appear is a great number of father figures found in Winton's works. They range from bland, feminised, powerless male figures, mothering fathers, absent and despised characters, to God-like protectors.

In The Riders (1994), Frederick Scully is Jennifer’s husband and a father of a seven-year-old Billie. The family buys an old house in Ireland. While Scully prepares the house for habitation, his wife and daughter are in Perth trying to sell their old house and prepare for relocation. The day Billie and Jennifer are to join Scully and start their new life in Ireland, only Billie arrives at the airport. Soon Scully realizes that he has been abandoned by Jennifer. To find an answer and reason for Jennifer's disappearance, Scully and Billie set out on a journey throughout Europe. They visit Greece, Italy, France, and Holland–the countries Scully and his wife visited before and where Jennifer tried to realize her ambitions as an artist. The search for Jennifer turns into Scully's quest for the self and the journey of self-discovery as a man and father.

Scully acts compulsively and hastily, which is in accordance with Winton's idea of masculinity as expressed in his journal article entitled "The Masculine Mystique" (1994):

All the signals our society gives a boy convince him that it is his job to move and to shake, to break and to shift, to move and change. In a crisis the worst thing, the most disgraceful thing he can do is do nothing. Emotions are dangerous, they will weaken him, paralyse him into doing nothings. So when a boy or a man must do something, anything, he will often do something precipitate. He will make disaster, pain, even death for himself and others. Even when he is not a loose cannon, he is likely to be a cripple. (qtd. in McGirr 104)

Although Scully lacks prudence and jeopardises his daughter's safety,

he offers Billie love and fatherly care. Abandoned by Jennifer, Scully tries to provide Billie with a sense of security and thus he attempts to substitute her mother, which is possible due to feminine attributes he is endowed with: he is "a man who knows a few things, good with his hands and thoughtful. A careful man, and thorough, able to cook and do all these womanly things" (Winton 1994: 255). In addition, Scully's involvement in the refurbishment of the old cottage in the Irish countryside reflects his inner need for domesticity and his desire for a cosy and comfortable home. His efforts, like painting the interior with limewash to make it "brighter, bigger, cleaner, and ... wholesome" (43) or decorating the house with


curtains and "womanly things here and there on sills and shelves" (254), indicates Scully's efforts to place himself at the centre of the household.

The disappearance of Jennifer and Scully's engagement in saving his family from disintegration strengthen the bond between Scully and Billie. Billy compares Scully to Quasimodo, her favourite literary figure, and her mother to Esmeralda. Associating parents with literary figures, allows Billy to express her love to Scully and emphasise Jennifer's superficiality: "No one loves him, especially not the beautiful gypsy girl. She just sees his poor face and his hump. No one loves him the way Billy does because she knows there's good in his heart" (Winton 1994, 85).

However, Billie's expression of affection towards her father complicates their relations. It seems that the father-daughter affinity starts revolving around the Electra complex as Billie is gradually taking the role of her mother. Despite her young age, Billy behaves like an adult. She is a realist and strongly believes that Jennifer will not come back. While Scully is desperately trying to figure out the reasons for Jennifer's leaving, Billie has already accepted her mother's decision. Moreover, as the action proceeds, the protagonists' roles are reversed. Scully gradually falls into despair; he is physically and emotionally exhausted, which limits his competence as a caring father. Therefore, Billie takes over from Jennifer, starts looking after and supporting Scully in his efforts. A direct consequence of this role-reversal is Billie's growing jealousy of and competition with Jennifer for Scully. When they reach Paris, Scully assures Billie that they will find Jennifer soon and spend Christmas together. Unexpectedly, Billie bursts with anger and shouts: "You'll choose her! She'll make you choose!" (262).

At the same time, Billie's attitude towards her mother changes. Eventually they arrive in Holland and find that the boat where Jennifer is supposed to be staying has been abandoned. Instead of her mother, Billie finds photographs of Jennifer. The third person narrator presents the scene from Billie's point of view and when references to Billie's mother are made neither her name Jennifer nor the noun mother are used; the narrator uses two pronouns She and Her instead, and both start with capital letters: "And then without warning, Billie came to the pictures of Her. It was sudden and scary. Billie's bum closed up and her scars went tight but her heart did not stop ... seven photos. The first one, She was in the street at St Paul in a small dress [...]" (363). Finally, Billie throws the photographs out of the boat, which represents Billie's total break with Jennifer, while the use of pronouns she and her symbolises Billie's loss of attachment to and estrangement from her mother.

Chapter Seven

92

The reversal of roles is accomplished by the end of the novel when Scully and Billie go back to Ireland and resume their life without Jennifer. In The Riders, Winton plays with traditional Australian gender stereotypes by endowing Scully with feminine qualities and positioning him at the centre of the family2. Winton often presents his ideas of masculinity and femininity from the perspective of the Australian family. As a result, his works provide remarkable insight into both individual and family matters, expose complex relationships and undermine traditional gender stereotypes.

In "Lantern Stalk," a short story in the collection Scission (first published in 1985), a young protagonist nicknamed Egg comes from a seemingly traditional family. His father is a Reverend in a local church and his mother is a housewife. Reverend Egglestone is the family's breadwinner, who works hard in his office, meets parishioners and takes care of the local community. Egg's mother looks after their home and occasionally meets her friends for a chat and a glass of cherry. However, under the surface of an apparently normal family hides Egg's mother's tyranny.

Egg's mother is depicted as "stronger than everyone else's mother. People said she wore the pants" (2007, 43). She successfully exercises control over the family. In addition, she holds utter contempt for her husband and his profession. Egg's mother degrades her husband for being a minister of religion. For her, it is not a manly occupation, which she keeps reminding him by saying that she "should have married a man" (2007, 42).

By her decision, Egg is sent to a cadet school, which "would make a man of him" (2007, 42). In the school, Egg takes part in field exercises at night called lantern stalk. The objective of the training is to reach a lantern at the top of a hill and remain unnoticed by its guards. However, during one of such exercises Egg loses sight of the lantern and gets lost. He encounters a farmhouse and is invited by the hosts to join their celebration of the birth of a baby. Egg observes a family gathered by the fireplace where both women and men are praying and singing cheerfully as they pass on a baby boy, each of them kissing and hugging him with affection.

Egg's lack of proper relationship with his marginalized and bullied father makes him disbelieve the newborn's father who openly expresses love and affection when talking about his family: "We love each other, we try. We look after each other in our way, and that's miracle enough in this world" (2007, 45). Egg feels dumbfounded and dizzy but as he leaves the farm he realizes that this experience has given him hope since "he was more than himself. He felt deeper and wider. He felt as though he was more" (2007, 49).


The way Egg's father is characterised stands in contradiction to traditional Australian masculinity. He is weak, bullied and lets his wife deprive him of dignity. He is passive and unable to establish any relationship with his son. Contrarily, Egg's mother is a strong, authoritative character; she is a calculating and emotionless mistress of the house. She is in command of the family's matters while her husband is deprived of any power. As a result, the matriarchy presented in the short story renders the family dysfunctional and the role of the father redundant. In "Lantern Stalk," Winton contrasts two very different models of the family and father figures to idealise the egalitarian Australian family. In addition, the author seems to imply that moderately feminised father figures conform to the norms of egalitarianism, whereas those deprived of masculinity defy them. As a consequence, although Winton often focuses on troubled families or families in crisis within which traditional gender roles are disrupted, the author usually tends to endow his male figures with a fathering potential greater than that represented by Egg's father.

In another short story in Scission, "A Blow, a Kiss," a young boy Albie and his father are on their way back home from a fishing trip. The first scene, displaying a very strong and positive father-son relationship, is idyllic: "Albie [...] enjoyed the night. Just the pipe smell of his father and the warmth of him in the truck's cab beside him was enough" (2007, 7). This moment of tranquility is, however, suddenly disrupted. While overtaking their truck, a motorcyclist has an accident. Albie and his father stop to assist the injured young man. However, unable to help him, Albie's father decides to drive to the nearest farmhouse to call for assistance and leaves Albie with the man. Once Albie's father is gone, the motorcyclist awakes and takes Albie for his own father. He starts weeping and apologizes ("Oh. Oh, Dad, I'm sorry. Was coming back" (2007, 9)). To calm the man down Albie, responds to his cries and kisses him on his face. According to Nathaniel O'Reilly, the author of the article "From Father to Son: Fatherhood and Father–Son Relationships in Scission" (2014), Albie takes the opportunity and imitates his father's behaviour (165). However, as O'Reilly claims, such expression of emotions "would be unacceptable between Australian males conforming to cultural norms of heterosexual masculinity" (O'Reilly 165). Later in the story, the injured man is taken to his father, Wilf Beacon. Beacon is drunk and when he sees his son unconscious and bleeding in the back of the truck, he reacts with aggression: he reproaches his son for leaving him, calls him a coward and eventually grabs his head and beats it against the truck.

In "A Blow, a Kiss" Winton juxtaposes two very different father-child relationships. Albie's relation with his father is based on love, tenderness

Chapter Seven

94

and understanding while the Beacons represent a difficult, harsh and compassionless affinity. The Beacons lack the sacred and inextricable bond connecting Albie and his father. In fact, Albie associates his father with a God-like protector (O'Reilley 170); at one point in the story, the narrator reveals that Albie "often prayed to his father in his absence. God, he decided, was just like his Dad, only bigger. It was easier to pray to him and hope God got the message on relay" (Winton 2007, 9).

In Winton's fiction, the figure of the father as a protector is characteristic of the early stages of the father-child relationship. The older the children and their parents are, the weaker and more complex their relationships become. Winton's teenage protagonists no longer perceive their fathers as flawless and reliable figures. Gradually the bonds are loosened, raptures emerge and finally ties break completely.

In the short story "My Father's Axe" (Scission), Winton illustrates how father-son relationships deteriorate over time. The story is centred on the narrator's father and son, Jamie. The action starts when the narrator, as an adult man, discovers that the eponymous axe is missing. This triggers a series of flashbacks. First, the narrator's retrospections go back to the time when as a child he admired his father's skills as an axeman. The narrator remembers how he spent time with his father, who taught him how to use an axe. The shared activity united them and gave the narrator's father an opportunity to pass his knowledge and skills onto his son (O'Reilly 167). Therefore, woodcutting became an important aspect in the process of their relationship building. Like Albie, a character in "A Blow, a Kiss," the narrator in "My Father's Axe" believed his father was a hero who would protect him against all possible dangers.

However, the narrator's attitude changed when he found his father sobbing and crying. This unusual sight shattered the narrator's vision of his father as a brave and strong man since until this moment he had perceived him as an embodiment of traditional Australian masculinity (O'Reilley 168). Unable to express his confusion and anxiety, the narrator ran to the backyard and chopped wood with violence. For O'Reilley, the narrator's savage reaction was caused by his need to confirm his own masculinity after he had witnessed his father's unmanly or feminine behaviour (168).

Another factor influencing their relationship was a recurring sensation of disappointment. The narrator suspects his father may not have been proud of him because he could not have matched his father's skills. The narrator admits that he could never split wood like his father because his "jabby strokes" were "somehow less graceful" (Winton 2007, 24), and that he was often responsible for breaking tools: "I always broke my father's tools, blunted his chisels, bent his nails. I have never been a handyman like


my father" (25). As a consequence, the narrator reveals that sometimes his father "looked at [him] with disappointment, and other times I looked at him the same way" (27).

As the protagonists got older, the narrator took over some of his father's responsibilities. The narrator chopped wood more often and faster than his father, while the old man only observed his son. As a result, the role of the narrator's father was reduced, he became passive and hence no longer worthy of his son's admiration.

When the narrator became a father himself, he visited his parents less often. He taught his own son, Jamie, how to use an axe. However, Jamie fell short of the narrator's expectations, who considered him careless and negligent. As a result, the narrator, who regards himself to be a disappointment to his father, is disappointed with his own son (O'Reilly 172). As soon as Jamie mastered axemanship, he took his father's role of the family's woodcutter and chopped wood for his grandparents. However, soon Jamie demanded to be paid for cutting wood, and finally he refused to do it altogether. This made the narrator assume that "he is lazier than me" (Winton 2007, 28).

The sensations of disappointment and guilt dominate the entire story. They influence the narrator psychologically and emotionally, which triggers a series of nightmares. In one of his dreams, the narrator accidentally cuts his father's head off; in another, he observes his own body cut up into pieces, his son splitting his head in two and casting the halves under the wheels of oncoming cars. These visions reflect the narrator's state of mind troubled by regret and remorse, and illustrate his fear, first, of assuming authority after his father and, second, of being substituted by his own son.

The feeling of guilt deepens as the narrator decides to place his parents in a nursing home, and moves with his own family into their house. In the last scene of the story, after the narrator's father dies, the axe is found. Nevertheless, although the missing axe has been the main source of the narrator's guilt and regret, its retrieval cannot sooth his pangs of conscience since the relationship with his father cannot be re-established just like the relationship with his son cannot be healed.

In "My Father's Axe," Winton emphasizes the complexity of father-son relationships as well as suggests that masculinity hampers the evolution of father-child relationship since it privileges physical rather than emotional bonds, which turn out to be insufficient in retaining close relations. Moreover, he indicates that disintegration of family ties is often propelled by aging.

Chapter Seven

96

In his collection of short stories entitled The Turning, Winton ponders on the influence which the disappearance of the father may have on the children and family. In The Turning, ten out of seventeen short stories are centred directly on Vic Lang and his family. Vic is the son of Bob Lang, a police officer, and Carol, a housewife. The history of the Langs is narrated from different perspectives and is scattered around the collection. It starts from Vic's boyhood, embraces the difficult period of his adolescence, the disappearance of his father, Vic's marriage, his mother's disease, Vic's confrontation with his father after 27 years of Bob's absence and his parents' death.

Central to Vic's trauma is his father's departure. Up until Vic is fourteen, the Langs are a happy family. However, with Bob's steady withdrawal from family life and his eventual relocation to another town, Vic's world collapses. Suddenly, the teenage boy has to take responsibility for his depressed mother and his much younger sister. Fear and anxiety evoked by the necessity to substitute his father stigmatise the teenager. He misunderstands his father's commandment (in the story "Long Clear View," Bob tells him: "You have to look after your mother ... I ... need you to be responsible" (2006, 198)) and takes the role of the family's defender and protector. Vic believes his family is endangered by an unknown threat; hence, every time his mother is out, he takes out an old rifle, loads it and looks out of the windows for any sign of danger.

Treating the house as a fortress that has to be protected with a firearm and expecting the dangers from outside are the result of Vic's internalisation of fear, unease, worry and despair. In "Damaged Goods," Vic's wife, Gail, admits how difficult it is to talk to Vic about his missing father and dead sister, Kerry. Gail, as a narrator of the story who maintains an emotional distance from Vic's traumas, reveals Carol's opinion about Vic's anxiety. Although Carol has never openly blamed Bob for Vic's uneasiness, she reckons that Bob's attempts to protect Vic from accidents or injuries transmitted fear and worries. As a result, Vic has become as secretive and reserved as his father.

Due to Vic's reticence about his emotions the readers are not given insight into his attitude towards Bob until, in the short story "Commission," Carol learns about her cancer and asks Vic to find and bring his father back. Vic's travel to a distant town in the outback revives his memories. Surprisingly, Vic remembers his father as an honest and decent man although, as Vic admits, "acknowledging it [is] painful" (Winton 2006, 220). Vic's bitterness, anger at and disappointment with his father mix with positive reminiscences of his father's decency, gentleness and kindness:


Honest Bob, I murmured, ashamed at the bitterness in my voice. But it was hard to sit there and see him after so long, in the wake of such disappointment and creeping shame. I'd had years of boyhood bewilderment and then, once I was old enough to see it, a decade of fury at how my mother suffered. In the end there was only a closed-down resignation, the adult making-do that I'd grown into. And now I had to sit with him and hear him declare himself trustworthy.

Once upon a time it had been true. Honest Bob. He was straight as a die [...] I believed in him. He was Godlike. His fall from grace was so slow as to be imperceptible, a long puzzling decline. Even during that time he was never rough or deliberately unkind. If he had been it would have been easier to shut off from him. He just disappeared by degrees before our eyes, subsiding into a secret disillusionment I never understood, hiding the drink from my mother who, when she discovered it, hid it from me in turn for fear I would lose respect for him. She turned herself inside out to protect him and then me. And at such cost. All for nothing. He ran away. Left us. I grew in a hurry. (Winton 2006, 225)

Vic eventually confronts his father and learns the true reasons for his

disappearance. Having discovered corruption among police officers in their town, Bob Lang gradually immersed himself in despair and alcoholism. To protect his family from his moral disintegration and the corrupt policemen's possible revenge, Bob asked for relocation. Away from his family, tormented over his own cowardice and the loss of his daughter, Bob decided to leave his family. Bob's confession triggers pity in Vic. Although Vic admits that "it would take another lifetime to forgive him" (Winton 2006, 231), and he is aware that for his mother's disease it is too late to reunite the family, Vic has faint hope of reestablishing the relationship with his father.

The story of Vic Lang and his family illustrates complex family relationships, and the difficult and morally ambiguous choices the father-figure has to take in order to protect his family against his own depravation and fate. In this collection of short stories, Winton creates a convincing and real father-figure. Bob Lang is a man who struggles to strike a balance between work and family. However, as soon as his profession takes the precedence over and endangers his family, Bob chooses, in his opinion, the best possible option which, despite his best intentions, becomes the source of suffering for his wife and son.

Winton's oeuvre is rich in father-figures. They range from God-like protectors, teachers, mothering fathers, aging parents, passive breadwinners, and abusers to absent or ghost fathers. Winton's characters are moulded from traumatic experiences and often complex family relationships, and since the author tends to focus on families in crisis,

Chapter Seven

98

family bonds are regularly strained and fatherhood is repeatedly put to the test. In addition, despite feminist criticism accusing Winton of reinforcing patriarchal ideology by equating feminine qualities with powerlessness, the author continuously attempts to subvert traditional gender roles and endows his male protagonists with empathy, sensitivity and love–qualities usually regarded as feminine but, in Winton's fiction, indispensable for building long-lasting father-child relationships.

Works Cited

Baines Alarcos, Pilar. "She Lures, She Guides, She Quits: Female Characters in Tim Winton’s The Riders." Journal of English Studies 8 (2010): 7–22.

Elder, Catriona. Being Australian: Narratives of National Identity. Crows Nest, New South Wales: Allen and Unwin, 2007.

Goodwin, Ken. A History of Australian Literature. Hampshire: Macmillan Education Ltd, 1986.

Hopkins, Lekkie. "Writing from the Margins: Representations of Gender and Class in Winton’s Work." In Reading Tim Winton, edited by Richard Rossiter and Lyn Jacobs, 45–58. Sydney: Angus and Robertson, 1993.

Kossew, Sue. Writing Woman, Writing Place: Contemporary Australian and South African Fiction, New York: Routledge, 2004.

McGirr, Michael. Tim Winton: The Writer and His Work. South Yarra: MacMillan Education Australia, 1999.

O'Reilly, Nathanael. "From Father to Son: Fatherhood and Father–Son Relationships in Scission." In Tim Winton: Critical Essays, edited by Lyn McCredden and Nathanael O'Reilly, 161–182. Crawley, Western Australia: UWA Publishing, 2014.

Schürholz, Hannah. "Gendered Spaces: The Poetics of Domesticity in Tim Winton’s Fiction." In The Journal of the European Association of Studies on Australia. 2 (2012): 59–79.

—. "'Over the Cliff and into the Water': Love, Death and Confession in Tim Winton's Fiction." In Tim Winton: Critical Essays, edited by Lyn McCredden and Nathanael O'Reilly, 96–112. Crawley, Western Australia: UWA Publishing, 2014.

Shaffer, Kay. Women and the Bush. Forces of Desire in the Australian Cultural Tradition. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988.

White, Richard. Inventing Australia. Crows Nest, New South Wales: Allen and Unwin, 1981.


Winton, Tim. "The Masculine Mystique." Good Weekend, August 27, 1994. 60–67.

—. The Riders. Sydney: Pan Macmillan Publishers Australia, 1994. —. The Turning. London: Picador, 2006. —. Scission. Camberwell, Victoria: Penguin, 2007.

Notes

1 The idea of Winton's subversive attitude towards traditional gender roles has been frequently challenged. Contemporary feminist re-readings of his works and interpretations of his male and female characters have revealed Winton's marginalisation of women and favourable treatment of masculinity. For example, in her article "Writing From the Margins: Representations of Gender and Class in Winton's Work" (1993), Lekkie Hopkins openly criticises Winton for associating powerlessness with feminine attributes and thus for reinforcing the patriarchal ideology (49). Other examples of feminist literary criticism centred on Winton's works are Pilar Baines Alarcos's "She Lures, She Guides, She Quits: Female Characters in Tim Winton's The Riders" (2010), Hanna Schürholz's "Gendered Spaces: The Poetics of Domesticity in Tim Winton's Fiction" (2012) and "'Over the Cliff and into the Water': Love, Death and Confession in Tim Winton's Fiction" (2014). 2 However, depicting Jennifer as a strong individual ironically exposes the novel to feminist criticism mostly because Jennifer does not appear physically in the novel–she is depicted through other characters' reminiscences–she becomes a ghost-figure hunting and destroying her husband's life. Consequently, Jennifer is characterised as an undutiful wife and uncaring mother. Her rejection of marriage and motherhood grants her independence but at the same time renders her contemptible. Because Jennifer is presented in a negative light, and because she remains absent and can neither speak nor defend herself, Winton himself is sometimes accused of silencing and depriving his female figures of power (see the previous footnote).

CHAPTER EIGHT

OUROBOROS OF THE MAN’S WORLD: FATHERHOOD AND THE RITE OF PASSAGE

IN MARIO VARGAS LLOSA AND JAMES JOYCE

KARINA SEMBE

Introduction The rite of passage as a symbol alone surely holds a certain trace of atavism and may seem irrelevant to some of most fervent children of the posthumanist era we are stepping into. However, this only applies to the case unless we admit that the myth has reclaimed its sense-forming function in each and every humanitarian discourse and is indeed a powerful episteme of today. Postmodern denial of the denotate and the rule of Nothing reveal a strive to the Absolute, while today’s fragmented, decentralized yet all-inclusive rhizomatic perception of reality makes us seek the new center, the new hero, new metanarratives, and rediscover a reference point of each complex phenomenon we face within symbolic order of everyday life. In this perspective, the myth is to be seen wider, i.e. as an invariant, a reference point, a certain supercultural order that springs from under sociopolitical superstructures motivated by the myth itself. The principle of hermeneutic circle preserves its validity: interpreting a text equals interpreting existence, the world, and the human in it.

The rite of passage gives an understanding of the supracultural principle from which most social relations arise. Therefore, it seems rather instrumental to focus on some transformative features that the figure of a father acquires within contemporary rites of passage and review the role of the father as the Big Other within the initiation scheme. However, it would be an unnecessary reductionism to merely center the topic around fatherhood. In the present paper, an attempt to explore a correlation between initiation as a forced transgression and fatherhood as politics is what proves to be one of many ways to understand what really lies at the

Ouroboros of the Man’s World 101

heart of androcentric discourse. Based on the writing of the Peruvian author Mario Vargas Llosa, with extensive comparative digressions to James Joyce, this study offers a brief take on neophytes’ formation in Latin American sociocultural context of the second half of the 20th century.

In his magnum opus The Decline of the West, Oswald Spengler (1926) stresses the key role of the Gestalt in every cultural community, defining it as the Form in a culture that stores and reflects “its own ideas, its own passions, its own life, will and feeling, its own death”(21). Hence, the only way to explore a culture is deep intuitive contemplation of these Gestalts, which presupposes “overpassing the present as a research-limit, and predetermining the spiritual form, duration, rhythm, meaning and product of the still unaccomplished stages of our […] history” (112-113). This is a function that the German historian metaphorically called Physiognomik (by no means to be understood literally, i.e. as a notorious pseudoscientific old-timer). In his physiognomic approach, Spengler rejects dictate of materialism and rigor of linear historicism, stressing primacy of customized reception schemata and importance of a holistic approach to cultural Gestalts. These principles are crucial for further development of any cross-cultural project in literary criticism as well as for unleashing the decolonizing power of knowledge and memory, which is why Spengler’s ideas are still up-to-date in the post-postmodern cultural context.

The urge of physiognomic contemplation has manifested itself in the return of the Prodigal Son, in the person of humanity, to the myth and allowed for seeing the text as an ever so powerful tool for unlocking memory, exploring political ecology, and rethinking evolution. Reaching beyond the text towards the cultural, political, and social not only called for a close-up of Latin American ‘soul’ but also provoked some thoughts on how respective Gestalts operate in Western texts (and contexts). This is where I found an urge to revisit growing up in the man’s world within military hierarchy in Llosa's novel La ciudad y los perros, 1963 (The Time of the Hero) in comparison with another dominance/submission model, which is religious education, in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, 1916, by James Joyce. Perception of history in Mario Vargas Llosa is very present in his narrative itself, where Llosa’s Imaginary, his numerous Personae, and historical reality are blended into rich and patchy fiction. Llosa really studied in Leoncio Prado Military Academy pictured in La ciudad y los perros, while the novel’s key characters, the Poet, Jaguar, and the Slave are real people portrayed by their real names. Authenticity reached a level that was enough for the 1,000 copies of the book to be publicly burnt in Leoncio Prado Academy because of the novel’s

Chapter Eight

102

antipatriotic spirit. Ever since Llosa was in the Leoncio Prado, he wanted to write about it: “It was an outlet for my revolt against the Leoncio Prado. Also something hidden. Because in school one didn't dare show any sign of that” (Dohmann and Harss 1967, 99). Vargas Llosa does not literally introduce his personality into the texts, yet creates a motley collage out of his numerous Personae, fragments of his Real and Imaginary. Joyce, in turn, just like his character Stephen Dedalus, himself excelled at the Jesuit schools Clongowes and Belvedere despite the chaotic family life imposed by his father's alcoholism and unpredictable finances. Thus the passage schemata offered in both authors’ narratives reflect their immediate experiences.

In La ciudad y los perros by Vargas Llosa, the three storylines describe the lives of three cadets of Leoncio Prado Military Academy–Alberto the Poet, Ricardo the Slave, and an anonymous cadet called Jaguar. Jaguar, the Poet, and the Slave recreate alpha, beta, and gamma patterns, respectively. On this differentiation, the hierarchy of the neophytes is based. In A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, characters also hold names eloquent of their masculine attributes (or, alternatively, of absence of those). During a football game at school, little Dedalus realizes his own inferiority compared to fellow students. He considers his eyes and body weak against powerful players as Rody Kickham (kick ‘em) or Nasty Roche. Another student to mark his domination over Stephen by means of bullying is Heron: “Dedalus is a model youth. He doesn't smoke and he doesn't go to bazaars and he doesn't flirt and he doesn't damn anything or damn all” (Joyce 2009, Project Gutenberg, e-source). Heron carries the name of Apollo’s son and is more than concordant to his mythological prototype.

All that being said, it is not hierarchy among the peers but religious subordination that is central in Joyce. In Vargas Llosa, the dominance/submission relations between peers and rule of the seniors are generally more explicit and spring from multiple perspectives. Submission to the higher ranks is set by default and actually works as a narrative background. Before getting closer to it, I suggest to briefly tackle the structure of the rite of passage. Its functional specifics lie in its triple-phase nature. The rite of passage normally presupposes alternation of such rites as separation, liminal period (also threshold), and reaggregation. Passage is understood as a death and a new birth: by passing into a new status a male individual is destroyed in his previous quality/function. What is important, too, is the mythological function of the space: getting out of the closed territory mastered by and familiar to the community is compared to death. Hence the crucial component of the plot in heroic


myths and fairy tales that recreates the ritual scheme of initiation, a challenge. A hero is to face challenges, for instance, in the realm of the dead, in another country inhabited by chthonic creatures or evil spirits, or in heaven where the Solar deity lives. In many of the world’s traditions including indigenous cultures of the Americas, father is often the one to catalyze his son’s passage. In indigenous Latin American mythologies, it is often the universal Great Father who challenges a neophyte. The archetype of the Great Father evokes the function of the Big Other within the initiatory scheme.

The first phase of passage is rather clear: this is a rupture with the world of childhood, which may be rather harsh. The world of childhood, to a child, is a world that is motherly and feminine. This rupture is a break-up with the state of irresponsibility, naivety, and childish impotential sexuality. Within the plot of La ciudad y los perros, this stage is expressed rather clearly. Little Ricardito came to the cherished Lima from a mountain province with his mother Beatriz, who kept kissing him on the lips throughout the entire journey. Archetypally, childhood is a dream in the depths of intimacy. In this dream, which belongs to the sphere of the Imaginary, a subject feels protected, he feels like home, in the mother’s bosom, and at the same time inside his own.1 Ricardo and his mother arrive in the capital in order to reunite with the father, who had moved before and whom Ricardo barely remembered. In this case, the indigenous initiation scheme meets the Oedipal one. For Lacan, Freudian Oedipus complex stages the drama of the child’s laborious struggles to situate themselves vis-a-vis all the dimensions of Otherness (Other as unknown and as a symbolic Order) (Lacan 2007). One of the scientists to interpret the expulsion of Oedipus in its connection with initiation was Vladimir Propp (1983).2 A fact that indicates the passage nature of the hero’s adventures is often that the persecutor is the hero’s own father. It is the father who makes Ricardo Arana go to the Military Academy in order to beat “una mujerzuela” (Vargas Llosa, La ciudad y los perros, e-source) out of him and make his son a real man. An example of such a man is apparently Ricardo’s father who practices physical and psychological domestic violence, by which he maintains his macho image.

Through forced separation from his mother, which triggered a Proustian feeling of the cold stranger’s bed in the father’s home, Ricardo realizes that the separation has been done. This is the beginning of his passage. The father pushes the son from the sphere of Imaginary to the sphere of Symbolic order. Ricardo’s father is an Other with both Symbolic and Real faces–just like the Oedipal father. On the Symbolic side, the paternal figure represents the answer to the question, “What does the

Chapter Eight

104

maternal Other want?” Ricardo’s mother Beatriz reunites with her husband and holds on to this fragile relationship in spite of the estrangement between father and son, which triggers Oedipality. At the level of the Symbolic, the paternal function involves bringing to bear within the child's familial sphere the disciplinary and prohibitory features of the family's enveloping symbolic order as their socio-linguistic milieu.

The father in Joyce is distanced, too, which is transmitted by means of narration in the first place: “His father looked at him through a glass: he had a hairy face.”3 Also, “Welcome home, Stephen! Noises of welcome. His mother kissed him. Was that right? His father was a marshal now: higher than a magistrate. Welcome home, Stephen!” The Symbolic order does not have to be imposed directly, since The Great Father is perpetuated by many generations. Mr. Casey, a friend of Stephen’ father, who also shares his political ideas, says, “I am no renegade catholic. I am a catholic as my father was and his father before him and his father before him again, when we gave up our lives rather than sell our faith.” The Big Other is dead, as Slavoj Žižek claims. In his studies on the Oedipus complex, Žižek (1997) indicates that the bearer of prohibition preventing access to the desired is not the living but the dead father, who, after his death, carries the trace of parricide. Metaphorically, we may view it as follows: the figure of father is perpetuated as his Name, it returns as the archetype of the Great Father, i.e. an embodiment of the symbolic law/prohibition.

Alberto the Poet’s father cheats on his wife Carmela on a daily basis and this is how he exposes his frustrated masculinity (masculinity as a way to escape social/political/ontological frustration). Eventually, he leaves the family and the Symbolic order disappears. Without it, the mother becomes even more miserable and inconsolable and gradually withers away physically as well as emotionally. Alberto, in turn, has been more independent of the order imposed by the father. The reason may lie in his creative mind and a talent to write, by which he transcends the order of everyday life. Stephen Dedalus, too, overcomes authority through creativity. After years of internal conflict, Stephen chose the path of Lucifer by accepting the following principle: “I will not serve that in which I no longer believe, whether it call itself my home, my fatherland, or my church.” He was expected to pass all the stages of education at Jesuit schools and to become a respected member of the community. However, his Faustian reflection yielded the initiation that exceeded all the expectations. Stephen dared to set off on an artist’s journey in order to “express [him]self”, fight the Ouroboros of the Symbolic, and reach beyond everyday life towards the sphere of immediate experiences.


In La ciudad y los perros, we clearly witness the passage incompletion in one of the cadets, the Slave. Ricardo Arana did not exit the liminal situation between life and death. Homo Ludens’ principle got fatal as a role play imposed from above led to the boy’s death: Ricardo was shot in the head during tactical exercises and died in the infirmary. One of the suspects was the fellow cadet Jaguar, however, the case was hushed up. The key to this complex is, again, the fact that Ricardo had been sent to the college by his father, who displayed silent guilt after the son's death. Here, the literal side to Žižek 's dead-father interpretation of the Big Other is flipped over. In Llosa, the father remains alive to bear the guilt and the son is only freed from his father’s dictate once dead.

Symbolic order and initiation, which in its turn also belongs to the sphere of the Imaginary, are the two topoi that come hand in hand to reveal the nature of machismo. Machismo in Latin American societies of the XX century was not something to be silenced–it lay on the surface. It was and unfortunately still is a universal and comprehensive phenomenon that defines social order in the countries of Mercosur. Machismo should be defined not merely in terms of systematized misogyny but as a set of requirements (constructed by men themselves) for masculine behavior that construct the pattern gradient of a Real Man. Machismo is to be viewed as a blend of the natural and political and its integral part is a hard and painful rite of passage, to which the human society has been subjecting its male members since time began.

Jaguar is one of Llosa’s characters that most vividly represent a Latin American lower-class man with a very machist idea of life, which yields violence as the only possible reaction to everything classified according to it as unjust. Jaguar is present throughout the entire text–not only in the central storyline, i.e. Leoncio Prado Academy, but also in inserted stories that run through the novel. However, it is not until the epilogue that Jaguar's identity is revealed. Anonymous before, he now reclaims his identity in the narrative and marries Teresa, whom he has loved since childhood. While being an antagonist rather than protagonist, Jaguar may be defined as the novel's Hero. He managed to complete the rite of passage–and, to begin with, was apt to complete it in the circumstances imposed by the existing order.

In Llosa’s characters, one can easily track a seemingly strange combination of infantilism and maturity: “Pasaré en mi carro convertible, con mis zapatos americanos, mis camisas de hilo, mis cigarrillos rubios, mi chaqueta de cuero, mi sombrero con una pluma roja, tocaré la bocina…”4 These are the illusory ideas of adulthood that Alberto the Poet cherishes. He is not a hopeless working class hero like Jaguar and can

Chapter Eight

106

afford himself to dream big. In another one of Llosa’s novels, La tía Julia y el escribidor, 1977 (Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter), one of Llosa’s Personae moves from words to action as eighteen-year-old Mario (aka Vargitas) tries hard to prove his manliness and maturity. The young writer by vocation and radio news editor by profession, he is constantly trying to dominate his lover, who also happens to be his aunt, although not by blood, and is almost twice as old as Vargitas. Eventually, Mario marries Julia and more or less successfully provides for his wife during eight years of family life. Along with proactivity and huge ardor Mario displays rather comical infantilism and helplesness. Explicit bursts of infantilism in the middle of overwhelming masculinity is typical of Latin American cultures and the rest of the world’s communities where men have largely been resistant to women's emancipation and have kept to themselves the once vital self-targeted requirement of activity and potency (sexual, linguistic, social, etc.). This requirement, established from a very early age, is basically passed from father to son and is a very telling example of frustrated masculinity. The serpent is eating its own tail again.

While Llosa’s characters grew up without maturing, the Joycean hero got old without growing up. “His childhood was dead or lost and with it his soul capable of simple joys and he was drifting amid life like the barren shell of the moon”. Stephen’s childhood, that was full of pressure, yielded estrangement and a bunch of various kinds of fear–from bestial to existential. The fear of authority in cadets in La ciudad y los perros can hardly be labeled as existential. They rather obey the authority according to regulations than fear it. In religious communities as well as in military collectives, strict hierarchy rules. However, Christian religious education presupposes a more complex system of psychological manipulative tools, which is also triggered by a higher level of isolation of the neophytes. In the military milieu, to fear and obey is a norm. the omnipresent oppression of the lower ranks spares necessity of reflection on exclusivity of one’s miserable and despicable position. In the military, it is about “citius, fortius, altius,” the basic instincts that ruled the world long before God arrived.

Because of Llosa’s witty language and rich dark humor, it may seem that dominance/submission relations between the cadets are a mere matter of joke or role-playing unlike the mean infernal tricks of Irish Jesuits in Joyce. Stephen Dedalus “mistrusted the turbulence and doubted the sincerity of such comradeship which seemed to him a sorry anticipation of manhood.” In La ciudad y los perros, in turn, such doubt is barely marked. Within the macho gender construct, neophytes are supposed to prove their dominance over peers and the younger ones and also be able to take the


blow from seniors. Initiatory rites included every possible way of physical and psychological violence performed by senior cadets–from horrible beating to racist jokes and orders to bark or dance. Thus dominance cannot be justified here as a mere consensual role-playing game. Humiliation, mockery, and physical violence on the part of seniors are the classical elements of rites of passage in a quite a few traditions throughout history–from Slavic tribes to indigenous communities in Oceania. In the general atmosphere of humiliation, cadets freely experience and reproduce classist and racist patterns, let alone omnipresent misogyny. Racism unfolds according to the principle of white excellence, somewhat complementary carnavalesque bestiality of black people, and total ostracism of Indians. In Joyce, xenophobia among young Irish, Scottish, and English cadets is doubled by (and drawn from) political controversies in the grown-up world that also define initiatory vectors of the neophytes.

Naturally, Llosa’s cadets are alienated from religion while living in the society of mass Catholicism. Corporality is not viewed as sinful: virginity is to be lost as soon as possible and information about this is subject to publicity. Stephen Dedalus tries so hard “to appease the fierce longings of his heart before which everything else was idle and alien.” He continuously reproaches himself after he visits a prostitute to unleash the bodily in himself and give a side way out to his longing for the forbidden love. In their turn, little machos from Leoncio Prado Academy follow their fathers’ examples and look forward to their first encounter with a prostitute. Their youthful uneasiness that anticipates it cannot be compared to Stephen’s existential suffering. Young Dedalus took much more from his initiatory sexual intercourse. In his case, the cathartic fear triggered existential rupture. Within Peruvian Gestalt this kind of taboo does not exist, therefore it cannot be broken.

The present brief take on passage schemes remythologized in modernist and postmodernist literature reveals certain typological (or rather chain-reaction) affinity as to an always ambiguous function of upbringing/growing up and education as authority leverages and emancipation routes in Joyce and Llosa, the two authors native to very different cultural paradigms. In this case, a holistic reader-response approach to a text as a context, along with a set of mythocritical methods, seems rather instrumental within the metamodernist project of overcoming the postmodern crisis on the way out to new senses.

Chapter Eight

108

Notes 1 More on the Imaginary regarding archetypal and myth criticism in G. Bachelard, Air and Dreams: An Essay on the Imagination of Movement (Dallas Institute Publications, 2011), Earth and Reveries of Will: An Essay on the Imagination of Matter (Dallas Institute Publications, 2002). Also, find further reading on verbal schemes and the Regimes of Imaginary in G. Durand, Les structures antropologiques de l’imaginaire (Paris: PUF, 1963). 2 V. Propp, Oedipus in the Light of Folklore, in Oedipus: A Folklore Casebook, eds. L. Edmunds, A. Dundes (New York: Garland, 1983). 3 J. Joyce, op. cit. (hereinafter without footnotes). 4 “I will arrive in a car with a folding top, in American boots, in a white shirt, in a leather jacket, in a hat with a red feather, with an expensive cigarette between my teeth, and I will honk to you”, M. Vargas Llosa, op. cit., p. 62.

CHAPTER NINE

BIOLOGICAL, ABSENT, RELUCTANT: THE FATHERS AND FATHER FIGURES

IN NICK HORNBY’S SLAM AND ABOUT A BOY

ZBIGNIEW G OWALA

The theme of fatherhood and father figures seems to predominate in works by Nick Hornby whose novels, as some critics observe, fit into the category of “lad lit.” Richard Bradford states:

Typically the main character or characters will be men who attained a degree of adulthood–one is reluctant to say “reached maturity”–around the end of the 1980s and thereafter find themselves in a social milieu that is, as far as their sex drive is concerned, at once seductive and perplexing. Their female counterparts seem able to match them in terms of confidence, intelligence, social bravado and hedonistic endurance and many authors and characters treat this as a credible licence for the behaviour and stylistic traits which have come to characterise the subgenre. (Bradford 2007, 143)

Additionally, in Contemporary British Fiction Nick Bentley points out that Hornby, just like other writers from the eighties and nineties, is interested in what “constituted masculinity in the 1990s, and how that had changed since their fathers’ generation” (Bentley 2008, 15). Bentley also notes that “the emergence of new genres of popular fiction given the provocative titles of chick lit and lad lit reflected this concern with the new parameters of femininity and masculinity and how individuals growing up in contemporary society are forced to negotiate these new constructs” (Bentley 2008, 15). It seems that the genre covers a whole variety of topics that come into the category of adulthood and masculinity (as perceived in the last decade of the twentieth century). They, of course, include sex, relationships, partying, love of football (or other manly pastimes), job and parenthood. It appears, however, that the characters in Hornby’s novels do not find parenthood manly or attractive enough to develop a serious and

Chapter Nine

110

stable relationship which will eventually lead to them becoming fathers since, as Bentley observes, masculinity from the nineties differs largely from its counterpart in the sixties or seventies. Thus, men in Hornby’s works seem to be shown in a rather bad light. They fail as husbands and they also make terrible fathers. Nevertheless, what the author may try to tell his readers is that fatherhood is inherent in masculinity, even though some of its other qualities might have altered. The purpose of this paper is to analyse the various cases of fatherhood presented in Hornby’s novels.

His 2007 novel Slam opens with the main character’s account of what has been happening in his life for the last six months. The very first point on that list, and the one that actually starts the book, concerns the state of his mother’s relationship:

So things were ticking along quite nicely. In fact, I’d say that good stuff had been happening pretty solidly for about six months.

For example: Mum got rid of Steve, her rubbish boyfriend. (Hornby 2008, 1)

The point is followed by three more in which the protagonist mentions

briefly his tentative plans to go to college, perform new skateboarding tricks that he has learnt, and see his new girlfriend, Alicia. However, it is his mother and her partner that Sam, the protagonist, seems to be most concerned with, even though this point is the shortest on his list (except for the last one which has not even been marked with a dash). The choice of words betrays his highly emotional attitude towards his mother’s affair–the couple did not split up but instead the mother got rid of her boyfriend. Steve is a “rubbish” boyfriend which means that, in Sam’s opinion, he was neither a good partner to his mother nor a step-father to the protagonist. Even though this point concerns the mother’s relationship, the fact that Sam uses it to start the list and his own story shows that the whole event is particularly significant to the boy. Raised mostly by his mother, Sam tries to find a father-figure and his role model is Tony Hawk. Sam has a poster of this renowned skateboarder on his bedroom wall (“It’s the coolest present I’ve ever had, and it wasn’t even the most expensive,” he says [Hornby 2008, 4]) and he talks to it. He actually pretends to have conversations with Tony Hawk. At the beginning of the novel Sam confesses sheepishly: “I talk to Tony Hawk, and Tony Hawk talks back” (Hornby 2008, 3). He tells Tony about the important things in his life because he feels that his mother would not understand any of them. What seems trivial to an adult may be of great significance to a teenager:

Biological, Absent, Reluctant: Nick Hornby’s Slam and About a Boy 111

At first, I only told Tony about skating–I’d talk about the problems I was having, or the tricks I’d pulled off. I pretty much ran to my room to tell him about the first rock ‘n’ roll I managed, because I knew it would mean much more to a picture of Tony Hawk than it would to a real-life Mum. I’m not dissing my mum, but she hasn’t got a clue, really. (Hornby 2008, 4)

Surprisingly, Tony always has an answer to most of Sam’s problems.

They have their conversations in the protagonist’s imagination–Sam knows the skateboarder’s autobiography by heart and he is always able to find a suitable quotation that fits his problem. Not only does Sam talk to Tony about skating but he also confides in him. Together they discuss the problems the protagonist feels he would not be able to discuss with his mother: his girlfriend, parents, school. Even though he notices that some pieces of advice that Tony offers are useless and some quotations unfortunately do not fit the problem, the skateboarder always seems to be interested in what the boy has to say. The poster and the autobiography entitled Hawk–Occupation: Skateboarder become a sort of foster parents to Sam with the image of Tony acting as a father figure whereas the real-life Tony Hawk becomes Sam’s role model. The protagonist feels that the readers may consider him mad (after all, he talks to the poster and the poster responds) and he says:

Who doesn’t talk to someone in their heads? Who doesn’t talk to God, or a pet, or someone they love who has died, or maybe just to themselves? TH… He wasn’t me. But he was who I wanted to be, so that makes him the best version of myself, and that can’t be a bad thing, to have the best version of yourself standing there on a bedroom wall and watching you. It makes you feel as though you mustn’t let yourself down. (Hornby 2008, 8)

For a teenage boy “the best version of himself,” as Sam puts it, is

frequently a father whom a son looks up to. However, Sam does not think that his parents set a good example for him. His mother got pregnant when she was sixteen and his father was seventeen. It seems that she regrets having a child at such a young age which at times upsets Sam. The sarcastic and self-mocking remarks that she occasionally makes on that topic make the protagonist feel guilty:

I didn’t like it when she said things like that. It always felt like it was my fault, somehow. Like I’d persuaded her I wanted to come out eighteen years early. That’s the thing about being an unwanted baby, which is what I was, let’s face it. You’ve always got to remind yourself it was their idea, not yours. (Hornby 2008, 17)

Chapter Nine

112

Moreover, his estranged parents see each other mainly on his birthdays. “They pretend they’re all friends together now, and the past is the past, and all that, but they never see each other unless it’s a special occasion involving me,” he observes bitterly (Hornby 2008, 81). Each such meeting culminates in an argument: the father recounts how Sam was born and the mother always accuses him of giving an inaccurate and unfair account of the whole event. She criticises him for making himself the hero of the whole story, completely forgetting about his wife and son. Sam does not hold his father in great esteem either. “My mum stayed here, and my dad went to Barnet,” he says, “But my mum has come a long way, and my dad has gone nowhere” (Hornby 2008, 83). He also believes that his family must be under a curse of sorts. Apparently, the members of his family display an unfortunate tendency to do something that dashes their high hopes for the future: “Someone–my mum, my dad, my granddad–starts off thinking that they’re going to do well in school, and then go to college, maybe, and then make pots of money. But instead they do something stupid, and they spend the rest of their lives trying to make up for the mistake they made” (Hornby 2008, 12). According to Sam, his mother’s biggest mistake was to get pregnant at the age of sixteen. His father, on the other hand, quit school and joined the football team. Unfortunately, he did not become a successful footballer and he ended up as a plumber. Sam does not want to follow in his father’s footsteps and he hopes to go to college in order to “break the pattern” (Hornby 2008, 13). Therefore, he believes that, after all, it is a good thing that he does not live with his father:

Even my dad not being around was a good thing, because he’s not into education at all. I mean, he wouldn’t actually stop me trying to study, but… Actually, maybe that’s not true. It was always a thing between him and Mum. She was desperate to go to college, and he’s a plumber, and he’s always made decent money, and there was this thing going on between them, because Mum reckoned he felt inferior and tried to cover it up by telling her what a waste of time it was getting qualifications. (Hornby 2008, 65)

There is no strong bond between Sam and his father who appears to be

cynical, grumpy, and peevish and frequently makes racist comments on other European nationalities. Generally, Sam considers his father “a bad-tempered bastard who always thinks the worst of everyone” (Hornby 2008, 146). This is probably the main reason why he does not tell him that Alicia is pregnant. Obviously he does not trust his own father and he is also afraid to inform his mother about the pregnancy. On the one hand,


this is a typical fear that any teenager in Sam’s position would experience–a fear of possible punishment and being condemned for their actions. On the other hand, Sam repeats the mistake his parents made sixteen years ago. He may be afraid of losing his mother’s trust and the fact that she may feel that she has failed as a parent makes him reluctant to tell her about the pregnancy. Additionally, Sam does not want to be like his father whom he considers a failure and he thinks that becoming a father at the age of sixteen means that his plans to go to college are already ruined. Instead of talking to his mother, he decides to talk to the poster because he feels that Tony Hawk is the only person he can trust. But Tony seems unable to help him (for obvious reasons) and instead he prefers to talk about skateboarding tricks: “I’m extremely proud of some of the ones I’ve invented, and some of them are hilarious to look back on and wonder what I was thinking at the time” (84). Sam, of course, finds the answer disappointing and he feels that his role model has let him down:

I was cross with him. You couldn’t talk to him about serious stuff, even though he was a dad himself. I was trying to tell him that the whole world was about to end, and he wanted to tell me about kickflip McTwists and half-cab frontside blunt reverts. (Hornby 2008, 84-85)

The beginning of the quotation may refer to both Tony Hawk and

Sam’s father who, still relatively young himself, would not be able to offer his son any useful piece of advice. When he eventually learns about Alicia’s pregnancy, he does not seem to be particularly concerned for his son’s future. “Bloody hell, my grandchild’s going to be able to watch me playing Sunday League,” he says and then he adds that Sam’s son can still play football with his grandfather when he is fifteen (Hornby 2008, 167). It seems then that Sam’s mother was right about his father–the only thing he is concerned with is himself and he acts as if it was him who was immediately affected by the fact that his son is going to have a child. “I’m really going to look after myself now,” he says (Hornby 2008, 167) and it does not sound like a promise or advice given to a son by his concerned father–“to look after myself” is not “to look after you and my grandchild”. Even though Sam’s father promises to help him and Alicia in case they need it, it seems that what Tony told Sam about the skateboarding tricks he invented is actually more reassuring. It is not advice (or, at least, it is not given in a straightforward manner) and Sam may feel a little bit confused by what Tony tries to tell him. Nevertheless, it seems to be his way of saying: “Don’t worry, everything will be fine, you’ll see.” The tricks he invented are, in fact, his children and though he is not happy with some of them and he may even wonder what he was thinking at the time (which

Chapter Nine

114

may refer to unprotected sex Sam had with Alicia), he is now proud of most of them.

The readers do not really know what kind of father Sam will eventually become, but throughout the book he experiences certain cases of precognition. Apparently, in his dreams he can see his future. In one of them, for example, he wakes up next to Alicia and is asked to check if his son needs changing. In yet another one he does not live with Alicia but his son lives with the mother and Sam has to take him to an injection. In this dream he asks his mother how, in her opinion, he is doing in life on a scale of one to ten. His mother awards him seven and says that he is doing “as well as can be expected” (Hornby 2008, 206). On the other hand, Sam gives himself two different marks: he awards himself eight points for dealing with his everyday life (which includes college, his son, his little sister and his mother’s new boyfriend) but he gives himself only three points for his life in general. In his final dream Sam finds himself sitting next to his new girlfriend, Alex, and they meet up with Alicia who also has got a new boyfriend. In this dream Sam turns out to be a good father who is able to look after both his son and his little sister. He also goes to college. Therefore, it seems that even though he becomes a father at the age of sixteen and he does not stay with Alicia (this is where he definitely follows in his parents’ footsteps), Sam may eventually break the unfortunate pattern and, unlike his parents, he may be able to complete his education while having a child.

The protagonist in About a Boy, Will Freeman, does fit the definition of masculinity presented in “lad lit.” Will is in his mid-thirties and he does not even think of becoming a parent. He is still a bachelor, lives in his cosy and fashionably furnished flat, listens to rebellious music, knows who Kurt Cobain is, and spends his free time watching soap operas and game shows on TV. He is not in a stable relationship, but instead he enjoys numerous casual ones. Surprisingly, Will does not have to work since his late father was the author of a popular Christmas song and the protagonist still lives off the royalties. Additionally, Will considers himself cool. He even completes a questionnaire about his coolness. His result is sub-zero which means he is so cool that he could “die of hypothermia” (Hornby 1998,14). Therefore, Will represents what Bentley calls “the new parameter of masculinity” and it seems that Will does not know what “real” life with a job and children is. And he seems to be perfectly happy with that:

There was almost too much to do. You didn’t have to have a life of your own any more; you could just peek over the fence at other people’s lives, as lived in newspapers and EastEnders and films and exquisitely sad jazz


or tough rap songs. The twenty-year-old Will would have been surprised and perhaps disappointed to learn that he would reach the age of thirty-six without finding a life for himself, but the thirty-six-year-old Will wasn’t particularly unhappy about it; there was less clutter this way. (Hornby 1998, 14-15)

For most people to “find a life for oneself” means to have a child and a

well-paid job. The thing about Will, however, is that he does not like children so much that he flatly refuses to be godfather to his friends’ baby. He appears to be quite upset by the idea and his response is rather rude:

‘Godfather? Church and things? Birthday presents? Adoption if you’re killed in an air crash?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘You’re kidding.’ ‘We’ve always thought you have hidden depths,” said John. ‘Ah, but you see I haven’t. I really am this shallow.” They were still smiling. They weren’t getting it. ‘Listen. I’m touched that you asked. But I can’t think of anything worse. Seriously. It’s just not my sort of thing.” (Hornby 1998, 17)

Will does not understand why anyone would like to have children in

the first place. A child means mess in your flat, additional (and often unexpected) expenses, and sleepless nights. What is more, people who have children seem to talk only about them as if they were their sole interest now. To make matters worse, people like Will’s friends always ask their childless acquaintances if they plan on starting their own family and when the answer is negative they always seem to manifest their utter surprise, or a shock even. “You are a worry to us,” they say when Will confesses that he does not want to start a family as if his need for staying single and childless was some sort of serious and embarrassing disease. Therefore, Will’s opinion about couples like his friends appears to be quite poor:

It was bad enough that they had children in the first place; why did they wish to compound the original error by encouraging their friends to do the same? For some years now Will had been convinced that it was possible to get through life without having to make yourself unhappy in the way that John and Christine were making themselves unhappy (and he was sure they were unhappy, even if they had achieved some peculiar, brain-washed state that prevented them from recognizing their own unhappiness). You needed money, sure–the only reason for having children, as far as Will could see, was so they could look after you when you were old and useless

Chapter Nine

116

and skint–but he had money, which meant that he could avoid the clutter and the toilet-paper throws and the pathetic need to convince friends that they should be as miserable as you are. (Hornby 1998, 16)

No matter his opinion about parents and their children, Will does, in fact, become a father. And not once, but twice. An avid seducer, the protagonist seems to be well-versed in various efficient methods of picking up attractive women. Nevertheless, he finds himself quite surprised to learn that single mothers often suffer from poor self-esteem which actually seems to be bruised by their motherhood. He quickly notices their vulnerability that results from the fact that “children served as a symbolic blemish, like a birthmark or obesity (…)” (Hornby 1998, 28). Their susceptibility to his advances allows him to come up with an original and audacious plan aimed at having a brief fling. The protagonist joins SPAT (an acronym for Single Parents–Alone Together), an organisation that unites mostly single mothers, and he invents Ned, his two-year-old son. This is the first time when he becomes a father, even though it is only an act that he puts on to trick women into having an affair with him. Therefore, he remains quite sceptical about the plan and is afraid that it may eventually flounder. Will, of course, does not seem to be father material:

He was too young, too old, too stupid, too smart, too groovy, too impatient, too selfish, too careless, too careful (whatever the contraceptive circumstances of the woman he was seeing, he always, always used a Durex, even in the days before you had to), he didn’t know enough about kids, he went out too often, he drank too much, he took too many drugs. When he looked in the mirror, he didn’t, couldn’t, see a dad, especially a single dad. (Hornby 1998, 39)

Thus, Will is everything but a dad and, consequently, he finds it

difficult to act as a parent of an imaginary child. He is afraid that he may not remember, for example, the name of a cat that belongs to Postman Pat or, far worse, the name of his own son. However, desperate to pick up a self-conscious, yet attractive, single mother, he goes to a SPAT meeting and this is when he unwillingly becomes a real father, or rather a father figure, to a teenage boy named Marcus.

Marcus, similarly to Sam, is raised only by his mother who suffers from depression. She tries to rebuild her life after the divorce: they move to London and she gets involved in a few relationships, none of which is fully successful. Marcus does not know it yet, but his mother is suicidal and he eventually learns about it when, after having split up with her last


boyfriend, she tries to kill herself. Additionally, Marcus is regularly bullied at school for his cheap clothes and odd behaviour–he sometimes starts singing without notice. He is not interested in popular music; he does not know (unlike Will) who Kurt Cobain is and he is a vegetarian. Unfortunately for him, he likes everything that his mother likes. He does not eat meat because his mother is a vegetarian, he listens to the music she likes listening to, and he wears the kind of clothes she chooses for him. His mother, Fiona, turns out to be quite possessive of her son, and even though she admits at first that she may not be able to look after him (she says that right before her suicide attempt) (Hornby 1998, 50), she later claims that she knows how to raise him because she has been his mother for so many years and she has not “made too bad a job of it” (Hornby 1998, 126). However, Will’s opinion is different. For example, he never asks the boy about his father because he believes that Marcus is “so much a product of his mother that the idea of a father seemed almost incongruous” (Hornby 1998, 112). In Will’s opinion, Marcus metaphorically comes from another country–“a country full of things that Will knew nothing about and had no use for, like music therapists and housing officers and health-food shops with noticeboards and aromatherapy oils and brightly coloured sweaters and difficult European novels and feelings” (Hornby 1998, 113). When Will meets Fiona for the first time he realises why Marcus may be considered weird and bullied at school. She may actually seem a little bit eccentric, considering the standards defined by the nineties: “And she was just too hippy. He could see now why Marcus was so weird. She believed in alternative things, like aromatherapy and vegetarianism and the environment, stuff he didn’t give much of a shit about, really” (Hornby 1998, 95). What is more, it turns out that even though Marcus meets his father at weekends, he does not talk about him with his mother. What Will learns from Marcus about his father (rather cold facts) is that he has a girlfriend and that he does not smoke anymore (Hornby 1998, 113). Therefore, Will forms the opinion that a boy who is raised single-handedly by an eccentric and bipolar mother cannot stay normal and, in all probability, one day he is going to end up “singing with his eyes closed and swallowing bottles of pills” (Hornby 1998, 171). According to Will, the boy is “Marcus, son of Fiona” (Hornby 1998, 171) and this defines his whole life up to now.

It is not Will who becomes interested in Marcus. The boy, who figures his mother might want to go out with Will, becomes nosy and starts paying the protagonist unexpected visits that, with time, change into regular social calls. At first reluctant, Will gradually gets used to these frequent visits and, feeling a sort of pity for the boy, he tries to befriend

Chapter Nine

118

him. In order to make him look cool he buys him new shoes (which are stolen the next day at school), he talks with him about a rebellious girl that Marcus has grown fond of and introduces him to the kind of music that his mother would not approve of (unlike most teenagers, Marcus knows who Joni Mitchell is but is not able to recognise Kurt Cobain on a t-shirt). On the other hand, Marcus believes that Will is, in fact, cool (although Fiona is of the opinion that his coolness is a sign of his immaturity) and that he knows more about real life than his mother (“real” means life outside the world of aromatherapy and vegetarianism). “He never wanted me round his flat every day,” says Marcus when he tries to explain to Fiona why he has been paying Will regular visits, “I just went. And he bought me those shoes, and at least he listens when I say I’m having a hard time at school. You just tell me to get used to it” (Hornby 1998, 178). When Fiona suggests she buy him new clothes, he retorts: “I don’t know what I need. Only Will knows what I need” (Hornby 1998, 125). Fiona tries to belittle Will by saying that what matters to him is mainly being trendy which is, in her opinion, ridiculous because now, when he is in his mid-thirties, he should be much more mature and responsible. Nevertheless, the fact that he knows which clothes are fashionable makes Will a perfect role model in the eyes of the boy (Hornby 1998, 126). Paradoxically, Will, who has had no previous experience with children as a parent and whose idea of a perfect day is mainly shopping, watching television and listening to music, appears to know more about the boy’s needs than his mother. This state of affairs is, of course, explained in the title of the novel. At the age of thirty-six, Will is still a boy at heart and as such he is able to understand another boy’s needs. However, Marcus does not need another colleague. When Fiona asks him why he insists on visiting Will, even though she has forbidden him to do so, he says: “Because I need a father” (Hornby 1998, 130). All this leads to a heated argument between Will and Fiona who claims: “Marcus doesn’t need a father, and he certainly doesn’t need a father like you” (Hornby 1998, 134). Nevertheless, Fiona reluctantly admits that her son may need a father figure or adult male company. “I don’t need junior male company, and I definitely don’t need a son figure,” says Will (Hornby 1998, 134) but he is wrong just like Fiona is wrong when she claims that her son does not need Will to act as a father. Of course, Hornby wants his readers to realise that the protagonist’s relationship with the boy will eventually change both of them emotionally. “I bloody hate Joni Mitchell,” says Marcus at the end of the novel and it is actually the best testimony to Will’s parental skills.

About a Boy opens with a question uttered by Marcus who asks his mother about her boyfriend: “Have you split up now?” (Hornby 1998, 9).


At the beginning of Slam, Sam informs the readers that his mother “got rid of Steve, her rubbish boyfriend” (Hornby 2008, 1). It seems then that in Hornby’s novels fathers and father figures are either absent or imaginary. The mothers break up with their boyfriends and the biological fathers appear to be seldom available for their children and definitely they are not role models for their sons (Sam does not take his father seriously to the point of patronising him, and Marcus, even though he visits his father frequently, knows only a few basic facts about him). Therefore, the boys try to find father figures for themselves. Unfortunately, one is just an image of a famous skateboarder pinned to the bedroom wall, whereas the other one is decidedly reluctant to bond with a teenager. And even though Hornby hints that the boys will eventually do fine in their lives, the problem of estranged fathers remains and the author does not offer a cure. “How do all those dads lose touch with their kids?” asks Sam and Alicia’s mother, Andrea, answers bluntly: “Things get hard” (Hornby 2008, 271). With this one sentence Hornby summarises the general condition of fatherhood reflected in his novels.

Works Cited

Bentley, Nick. Contemporary British Fiction. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2008.

Bradford, Richard. The Novel Now: Contemporary British Fiction. Malden: Blackwell Publishing, 2007.

Hornby, Nick. About a Boy. London: Victor Gollancz, 1998. —. Slam. London: Penguin Books, 2008.

CHAPTER TEN

PATRIARCHAL FATHERS, SUBMISSIVE DAUGHTERS

IN THE FICTION OF MARGARET ATWOOD AND HANAN AL-SHAYKH

SALLY KARMI

Introduction

Representations of patriarchal fathers and submissive daughters have been dominant concerns in the literary works of women writers. Margaret Atwood's Cat's Eye (1988) and Hanan Al-Shaykh's The Story of Zahra (1986) speak to a patriarchal pattern that dominates the relationship existing between fathers and daughters. Though geopolitical spaces and cultures apart, both novels tend to explore the world of patriarchy through the eyes of young girls who grow up within a cultural paradigm of family relations and religious institution that mark their submission to patriarchy. It is probably justified to argue that when it comes to the position of women in the Arab world, patriarchy is more noticeable than that of its Western counterpart. However, this paper argues that patriarchy operates within a subtle ground that makes its existence also valid within a Western, Canadian culture. In both novels, fathers are represented through the eyes of their daughters, Elaine Risley and Zahra; two young girls who grew up with different views regarding their fathers. In spite of growing up in an unconventional family, Elaine learns about patriarchy and father's dominance not through her father as much as from her outer environment seeing the patriarchal power of her friend's father. Contrary to Elaine, Zahra has a typical patriarchal father; dominant and fearful.

Atwood and Al-Shaykh allow the readers to journey into Elaine and Zahra's internal worlds; a journey that brings to the surface the novelists' critique of patriarchal practices, familial relations, father's images, and the

Fiction of Margaret Atwood and Hanan Al-Shaykh 121

power of the gaze. However, this is not to say that the experiences of the two female protagonists are generally an outcome of their gender, but it is to try and find a ground of similarity when it comes to fathers' representations in the literary works of women writers.

Patriarchal Connectivity: A Theoretical Frame

Through her analysis of families in Arab culture, the Lebanese feminist Suad Joseph’s theories of "relationality" and "patriarchal connectivity" provide some nuances to the ways in which Cat’s Eye shares concerns with The Story of Zahra. Joseph’s research into Lebanese society examines the influence of patriarchy on familial relations. The notion of "relationality" describes the process through which a subject’s life is shaped by his/her relations with others. Joseph argues that familial connectivity empowers patriarchy. As a result, individuals within the Arab family establish a bond that accepts a relational hierarchy (Suad 1999, 2). There are many similarities between Canada of the 1950s and the behaviour extant in modern Lebanon and other Arab countries. It cannot be claimed that the families in Atwood and Al-Shaykh’s novels are typical of all Canadian or Lebanese, any more than Suad Joseph’s theories represent all Lebanese families, nor do Atwood and Al-Shaykh’s critiques of the patriarchal structures in their societies aim at essentialising all families as patriarchal. It would be misleading to propose that the experiences of these families are representative of their cultures as a whole, given the varied political history and socio-economic experiences described in the narratives.

Instead, Atwood and Al-Shaykh’s emphasis is on the interweaving of the individual and collective socialization of gender observed from a cultural feminist perspective. The families in Cat’s Eye place considerable weight on relationality and the patriarchal authority of the father. This is similar to the hierarchy in which Zahra, the protagonist in Al-Shaykh’s novel, finds herself subject to.

Another notion within the familial context is the notion of "patriarchal connectivity." "Patriarchal connectivity" is the "production of selves with fluid boundaries organized for gendered and aged domination in a culture valorizing kin structures, morality and idioms" (Suad 1999, 9). In other words, as individuals we are not free subjects who experience our "selving" as "bounded, separate, or autonomous" entities (12). On the contrary, our boundaries are "relatively fluid" and, as such, we are strategically "socialized into social systems that value linkage, bonding, and sociability" (12). Though the protagonist in Atwood’s novel, Elaine,

Chapter Ten

122

has been raised in an unconventional family, part of the interest in her story lies in her learning about patriarchy through connectivity with families more conservative than hers. Elaine, then, becomes vulnerable to certain social codes which dictate her role as a girl and, thus, her family fails to protect her from these gender roles.

In Joseph’s notion of "relationality," "selves are woven through intimate relationships that are lifelong, which transform over the course of personal and social history and which shape and are shaped by shifts and changes of the self" (Suad 1999, 12). The making of the self, in this sense, is not a process of autonomous shaping. It is a collective process which emerges when individuals exert influence over each other’s lives. Zahra’s construction of the self is embedded within relational matrices. She remembers how she has never been herself, but always what family, teachers, and neighbours have expected of her; a submissive, obedient girl. This alienates Zahra, who no longer recognizes the several images made of her. She recalls:

I never asked myself whether my fear of my father was on a mental or physical level. It was all part of a conglomeration of fear […] above all, that my images of myself might be overturned […] the image of which I had run off hundreds copies for distribution to all who had known me since childhood. Here is Zahra, the mature girl who says little; Zahra the princess; as my grandfather dubbed me; Zahra the stay-at-home, who blushes for any or for no reason; Zahra the hard-working student-quite the reverse of her brother, Ahmad; Zahra, in whose mouth butter would not melt, who has never smiled at any man, not even at her brother’s friends. This is Zahra – a woman who sprawls naked day after day on a bed in a stinking garage, unable to protest at anything.(Al-Shaykh 1991, 32)

Zahra is pushed towards conforming to these images, having been

socialized in patterns that are appropriate and expected of a woman; the silent, obedient and passive woman. From all the recalled images, the naked image of Zahra is an immediate reminder of her demeaning, vulnerable situation. The unpleasant image of Zahra "sprawling naked" and her failure to voice her protest against her sexual exploitation are problematic aspects in the construction of an autonomous female selfhood. It is this issue which Al-Shaykh takes up in her stance against patriarchy within Arab culture. She criticizes women’s culpability in their own oppression and their complete submission to the patriarchal system. She sees them as discouraged from seeking independence and separation from patriarchal ties, controlling their bodies and asserting their autonomy. They reflect Cixous’s (2001) silenced women, "muffled throughout their


history [to] live… in dreams, in bodies (though muted) in silences" (2049). Zahra recognizes her need for separation as she states, "I wanted to live for myself, I wanted my body to be mine alone. I wanted the place on which I stood and the air surrounding me to be mine and no one else’s" (Al-Skaykh 78). Yet the power of patriarchy aborts her dream of separation and autonomy. Zahra’s protest echoes that of Luce Irigaray, who argues that the underdeveloped condition of women emerges from "women’s submission by and to a culture that oppresses them, uses them, makes of them medium of exchange" (1985, 32).

Similarly, Atwood shows that Elaine has sought to please and been continually receptive of other’s judgments, in spite of her tendency to isolate and retreat within herself. Even in her escape to Vancouver Elaine’s secure borders separating her from her past disintegrate, revealing her "relational" self to be an extension of her connectivity with others. As Sherrill Grace (1994) explains, "the Self is not as easily posited as an individual, if to be individual must mean to be separate, discrete, bounded, distinct from the Object of its own discourse as well as from all others." Relatedness, connectivity, and collective identity remain the paradigms for the female’s existence (191). Elaine, however, is more autonomous or to use Martha Sharpe’s term, a "dissident" trying to be avant-garde, independent, and in full control of her life (1993, 174). In adolescence, Elaine tried to prove that she could stand up for herself, unlike Zahra. But underneath Elaine’s self-restrained image she is not so different from Zahra. The pressure to conform to the codes of patriarchal societies leaves Elaine and Zahra with a sense of frustration; both remaining silent in the face of their abuse and marginalization.

Patriarchy, the Power of the Gaze, and the Image of the Father Figure

The previous discussion leads us to consider more closely the authors’ treatment of the themes of patriarchy, the power of the gaze, the image of the father figure and how these are implemented as means of control in both cultures. Michèle Barret (1988) defines patriarchy as power relations that not only refer to the oppression of women by men, but also include the dynamics of oppression of young men by the father. Lois Tyson (1999) explains that a "patriarchal woman" is a "woman who has internalized the norms and values of patriarchy;" that is to refer to "any culture that privileges men by promoting traditional gender roles." She explains that traditional gender roles position men as "rational, strong, protective and decisive," whereas women are considered the opposite "emotional, weak,

Chapter Ten

124

nurturing and submissive" (83). "Classical patriarchy," according to Joseph, has many forms. It is "the dominance of males over females and elders over juniors and the mobilization of kinship structures, morality, and idioms to institutionalize and legitimate these forms of power," a characteristic which distinguishes Arab from Western societies (Suad 1999, 121). Patriarchy, of course, cannot be essentialised or perceived as a fixed structure. It varies according to social construction, economic changes, and shifting social morals. Like much of the Western world after the Second World War, the typical Canadian family structure was patriarchal. The dynamics of power among family members are traditionally practiced by fathers (Kandiyooti 1991, 23). Atwood’s portrayal of patriarchal power designated through a system of male authority is similar to the disciplining of Arab women through the "gaze". Michel Foucault (1980) explains about the power of implementing the gaze:

There is no need for […] physical violence, material constraints. Just a gaze, an inspecting gaze, a gaze which each person feeling its weight will end up interiorising to the point that he is his own overseer, each individual thus exercising this surveillance over, and against, himself. (155)

Though Foucault does not refer to gender politics here, his exploration

of the gaze and notions of surveillance encompasses the ever powerful patriarchal gaze that disciplines and strengthens the subordination of women. Implementing the Foucauldian notion of a "disciplinary society," Molly Hite argues that it is the female subject who is most often the object of the "gaze." Hite suggests that "for women, to be seen is both to have an identity and to be identified as vulnerable" (1995, 195). Atwood illustrates that women and little girls are in part responsible for this gaze. Elaine’s friends embody the underlying principles of the patriarchal order, which for an Arab reader represents the fabric of power relations within a family structure. Cordelia, Carol, and Grace, Eliane’s childhood friends, are represented as agents of patriarchy, with competition and cruelty dominating their relationships. Their job is to implement the gaze, to spy and to report any of Elaine’s misconducts. The girls "internalise the condemnatory gaze" but paradoxically also achieve control over each other (195). Atwood (1998) comments on this subtle and fluid relationship she observed between girls:

I’ve observed little girls from a few points of view. I’ve been a girl, I’ve had a girl, and I’ve taught girls. There are usually differences between girls and boys. Both are aggressive with their companions, but the boys are


more open about it. They hit, they push physically. Their hierarchy is more solid and it’s based on something visible. The hierarchy of girls is more fluid. I didn’t know from one day to the next who was on top. (26)

To be accepted within the social structure, girls must become

collaborators, disciplining and persecuting other girls and women. Conversely, they must be obedient and submissive in their relationships with men. As Foucault suggests, discipline is the force of "how to keep some one under surveillance" (O’Farrell 2006, 102). While Grace watches Elaine’s religious development and reports to her mother, Carol reports Elaine’s behaviour to Cordelia. The girls even imitate adult speech to discipline each other, as echoed in Cordelia’s scolding of Elaine: "How could you be so impolite?," "I’m afraid you’ll have to be punished" and "Stand up straight! People are looking" (Atwood 1990, 117).

The patriarchal gaze is assisted in its work by religion and the social institutions which accompany it. This speaks to the upbringing of girls in Arab societies, where religion is used as a fundamental disciplinary apparatus. Cat’s Eye explores the overlapping power between religion and patriarchy. The tension created between the Risley family and the Smeaths over religious teaching has an impact on the way both raise their children. Elaine’s acculturation process and entry into patriarchy do not arrive through her family, but through her connections with her friends and their mothers. Early in the novel, we notice how Elaine's father does not believe in religious brainwashing of children. He believes religion has been responsible for so much violence, wars and bigotry in this world (96). Nevertheless, Elaine, a child of nine, is exposed to religious scriptures and the religious gaze of the Anglican Mrs. Smeath. She learns about the Bible and God’s watchful eye, symbolized by the phrase "the Kingdom of God is within you" (125). This perplexes little Elaine, who recalls how the stars from her bedroom looked different from those in the wilderness. They were once "cold and white and remote, like alcohol and enamel trays." Now, they have been transformed into God’s eyes watching from above: "now they look watchful" (101). These gazing eyes are not only related to a spiritual God; they are the merciless eyes of society disciplining through surveillance. Elaine remembers: "street after street of thick red brick houses, with their front porch pillars, like the off-white stems of toad stools and their watchful, calculating windows. Malicious, grudging, vindictive, implacable" (14). Elaine's image of God changes. God is no longer "Our father at all. My image of him now is of something huge, hard, inexorable, faceless and moving" (14).

Al-Shaykh also employs the imagery of the gaze as a metaphor for patriarchal power. This becomes representative of the pattern governing

Chapter Ten

126

father-daughter relationships in both novels. The first memory Zahra, the child, recalls about her father is that of fear. Hiding secretly with her adulteress mother, Zahra learns what it means to fear her father. She remembers:

We hid in the darkness behind the door slightly ajar. Sounds of footsteps and loud noises drew nearer, before the door fully opened…and a current fear ran through us as if were wired together. (1)

Zahra fears his khaki uniform, his watch, his Hitler-like moustache and

his vicious look. She remembers: "I knew only dread of this god in his khaki suit, dread of his tram-car, dread of his strong body" (10). Even when not in the house, a portrait of Zahra's father dressed in his military color-like uniform hanging on the wall constantly reminds Zahra of his dominant power. Due to this obsessive fear, Zahra prefers to keep her eyes closed so as to escape this mechanism of patriarchal surveillance: "No sooner do I open my eyes than I wish I could close them again" (78). This is juxtaposed with the ever watchful "gaze" of the father. Even when she closes her eyes, Zahra is haunted by her father’s "frowning face" (85). His image is the first that comes into her mind. She wishes that the civil war in Lebanon could take away her father’s power, weakening his voice, and, most importantly, his "piercing eyes" (148).

Zahra has also been a victim of patriarchal violence. As a child, she could not refuse her mother's insistence on accompanying her to see her mother's lover. Once rumours of his wife's infidelity reach Zahra's father, Zahra is brought as a witness, and thus, becomes a victim of physical abuse. She was beaten by her father. What has become clear to Zahra as a result of this incident is that she fears her father tremendously. She even contemplated putting an end to her life by jumping out of the window because of this fear: "At that moment, I really did want to jump for fear of him" (12).

While Zahra fails to empower herself against her father's piercing, patriarchal gaze and violence, the blue cat’s eye marble which Elaine has kept from her childhood days becomes her means of reclaiming her power in the face of the societal gaze. The cat’s eye marble empowers her through reciprocating the gazing eye to which her friends and their families have subjected her. As Coral Ann Howells contends, because of her "Third Eye," Elaine "sees more because she sees differently" (1996, 150).

Fathers, in both novels, assert their existence through structures of power which children later reincarnate in violent relationships with others. Though the father is not often present, his power remains through a symbolic paternal presence as dominating and authoritative. For example, Elaine’s father is represented to be far more tolerant than Zahra’s father.


Elaine remembers many details about her father, a university professor who is so much engrossed in his entomological research. She has enjoyed an unconventional relationship with him, unlike girls from her generation. He brought up Elaine and Stephen, his son, in a gender free environment. He talked to them about scientific experiments and environmental concerns. Yet she states that "in the daily life of houses, fathers are largely invisible" (Atwood 1990, 98). This explains why Elaine's father could not protect his daughter from gendered codes instilled within the institutions of the Canadian society. As for Zahra, she is brought up under the heavy hand of patriarchy, personified in the power of a pious father. Despite his dominance, this father also fails to protect his daughter from sexual abuse which comes Zahra’s way years later in her life.

A similar model of the image of Zahra’s father can be seen in Cat’s Eye through Cordelia’s father. Elaine remarks how he sits at "the head of the table, with his craggy eyebrows, his wolvish look, and bends upon [Elaine] the full force of his ponderous, ironic, terrifying charm"(249). He jokingly says that he is "hagridden, the only man in a houseful of women" (249). In fact, it is these women, his wife and his three daughters, who are all struggling under his dominance. Like Zahra, Cordelia fears her father and internalizes his scorn of her. She accepts his authority through constant imitation of her mother and sisters’ behaviours, hoping to find favour with him. Elaine observes:

[Cordelia] is too frightened of him. She’s frightened of not pleasing him. And yet he is not pleased. I’ve seen it many times, her dithering, fumble-footed efforts to appease him. But nothing she can do or say will ever be enough, because she is somehow the wrong person. (249)

Cordelia encounters both mental and physical anguish, if for any

reason her behaviour is not what her father might have wished. To be "normal" mentally, Cordelia has to accept the norms of her sex. Cordelia struggles between a past domineering self as a child and a present passive self as a woman. The madness she eventually succumbs to signals her failure to absorb what is needed from that patriarchal culture. Similarly, Zahra is a victim of psychological abuse who experiences, as Roger Allen (1995) points out, "a descent into madness" (232). Whereas Cordelia revenges through bullying Elaine, Zahra rebels against her father’s oppression through engaging in numerous sexual relationships. Zahra’s rebellion can be seen as act of defiance intended to make up for years of humiliation and rejection by her father and family. In one of her sexual encounters, Zahra calls for her father to witness her tarnishing of his honour:

Chapter Ten

128

Oh, sniper let me cry out in pleasure so that my father hears me and comes to find me sprawled out so. I am one with the dust in this building of death. Let my father see my legs spread wide in submission. Let every part of me submit, from the dark sex between my thighs, to my breasts with their still dormant nipples, my hands able only to tremble (137-138).

Al-Shaykh gives particular energy to the description of the female

body as it complements her attention to the discourse on sexuality. The recurring scenes of Zahra’s sexual encounters signal Al-Shaykh’s consciousness of the necessity to write about the female body. The body becomes the defining point for a woman’s subjectivity. Zahra’s body becomes her means of defiance against patriarchal conceptions of a woman’s honour. Through her body, Zahra feels free to redefine herself, to invent someone of her own devising and not what is made for her. As Hélène Cixous explains, "we’ve been turned away from our bodies, shamefully taught to ignore them, to strike them with that stupid sexual modesty…Women must write through their bodies" (Cixous 2001, 2049). Through paying attention to the physical details of her body, Zahra, to use Cixous’s metaphor, writers herself: "By writing herself, woman will return to the body which has been more than confiscated from her, which has been turned into the uncanny stranger on display" (2043). Since a patriarchal society is obsessed with women’s sexuality, it is through this role that women must strengthen their resistance to patriarchal conceptions.

Unlike Elaine’s family, Zahra’s family places great weight on the importance of the mother-son relationship. Among Arab families, this "relationality," which privileges sons as the extension of the patriarchal line, can lead to gender discrimination and the neglect of daughters. Suad Joseph (1999) explores the pattern of relations in a Lebanese family, suggesting that the mother’s attachment to her son is the result of a sense of insecurity in her marriage. She explains that in some Arab countries a man has the right to divorce his wife and remarry again without his wife’s consent. Therefore it is through her son that the woman finds the financial support and security that she might lose if her marriage ends; "Arab culture in general, being patriarchal and patrilineal, valorises the son as the prime offspring off his parents. [...] In most Arab societies, it is by birthing a son that a woman makes her claim to status" (187). Part of Zahra’s anguish, then, is the result of her mother’s discriminatory treatment. Fatmé’s preference for her son, Ahmad, over her daughter can be explained in economic terms. Zahra’s mother is aware that her security depends on her son and not her daughter. As a result, she focuses her attention on Ahmad and neglects Zahra. Zahra remembers: "I dared not reach for the chicken pieces…This she always reserved for Ahmad" (8-9).


This aggravates Zahra’s sense of misery and unease in her tensed relationship with her mother. She becomes aware of a gender hierarchy privileging males over females.

Zahra’s distress is further exacerbated as she witnesses her mother’s infidelity. She becomes conscious of her mother’s neglect and absence at a very young age. Zahra experiences feelings of loss, realizing that "the distance between me and my mother grows greater, deeper, although we have been as close as an orange and its navel" (5). She no longer identifies with her mother. Her feelings range from love to hate as she realizes that it was her mother’s continual affairs which lead to the fragmentation of the mother-daughter relationship. In a similar way to Elaine, Zahra recalls her longing for her mother’s loving eye and touch:

I would watch her when she was with me, and study her when she was at a distance. I thought all the while, as I looked up at her, of how much I wanted to draw her towards me, to draw myself close to her, to touch her face and have her eyes peering into mine. I wanted to disappear into the hem of her dress and become even closer to her than the navel is to the orange! (5-6).

According to Joseph Zeidan (1995), this yearning for the mother is the

reason for Zahra’s return to her parents’ house, in spite of her being married. It is not a sign of retreat, but is an evidence "of her continuing search for her mother" (215). It could also be argued that Zahra’s return is an attempt to relocate herself within a family whose members have denied her an equal presence.

Miriam Cooke (1988) asserts that Zahra’s rejection of her husband and her curling up into a "foetal position" represent her yearning to return her mother’s womb in a "promise of rebirth" (53). Zahra’s yearning for connectivity with her mother resurfaces at the end of the novel, thus mirroring Elaine’s nostalgic longing for her mother at the art gallery. After being shot by the sniper, Zahra, bleeding to death, remembers her mother: "I wish I could see my mother’s face […] Where are you, my mother? In what warm room do you sit? I wish I could be close to you now" (183).

Elaine and Zahra's struggles with patriarchy are not only related to patriarchy and fatherly figures. In their relationships with their mothers, Elaine and Zahra do not encounter inspirational motherly figures promoting independence and agency. Instead, the image that appears is that of "mothers in flight – mothers who fly or, sometimes, flee from their maternal role" (Chakravarty 2000, 104). Elaine’s failure to identify with other women parallels the lack of women in Zahra’s life. The complexity and fragmentation of the self is even complicated by their mothers.

Chapter Ten

130

Nevertheless, Elaine and Zahra do not renounce their maternal bonds. Instead, Elaine tries to compensate for this loss through finding a spiritual substitute in the figure of a powerful image of the Virgin Mary and through seeking alliances in her relationships with men. Zahra, on the other hand, continues to be disorientated. Amid the chaos of the civil war she thinks she has found temporary peace with the sniper, only to discover that she becomes a body that is denied self-worth.

Conclusion

Cat’s Eye demonstrates the extent to which a specifically Canadian novel is still capable of travelling and addressing an Arab readership. What makes the novel universally appealing, especially to Arab women readers, is its exemplification of the practices of patriarchy embedded through the dominance of fathers. Cat’s Eye, like The Story of Zahra, represents themes of gender politics, patriarchy and representations of fathers which are commonly debated topics and shared experiences among women and feminists across cultures. Atwood and Al-Shaykh have demonstrated an awareness of the interaction and the resultant effects of these themes on women across local and global discourses of power. In spite of the novels’ specific Canadian and Lebanese contexts, they have conversed with readers across national boundaries.

Works Cited

Allen, Roger. The Arabic Novel: A Historical and Critical Introduction. 2nd ed. Syracuse N.Y: Syracuse UP, 1995.

Al-Shaykh, Hanan. The Story of Zahra. Trans. Peter Ford. London: Quartet Books, 1991.

Atwood, Margaret. Cat’s Eye. London: Virago, 1990. Atwood, Margaret and Victor-Lévy Beaulieu. Two Solicitudes: Conversations.

Trans. Phyllis Aronoff and Howard Scott. Toronto: McClelland & Stewart Inc., 1998.

Barret, Michèle. Women’s Oppression Today: The Marxist/Feminist Encounter. 2nd ed. London: Verso, 1988.

Chakravarty, Radha. ‘Mothers in Flight: The Space of the Maternal in Margaret Atwood’s Cat’s Eye.’ In Mapping Canadian Cultural Space: Essays on Canadian Literature. Ed. Danielle Schaub. Jerusalem: Hebrew University Magnes, 2000. 104-121.


Cixous, Hélène. ‘The Laugh of the Medusa.’ In The Norton Anthology: Theory and Criticism. Ed. Vincent B. Leitch. New York and London: W.W. Norton & Company, 2001. 2039-2056.

Cooke, Miriam. War’s Other Voices: Women Writers on the Lebanese Civil War. New York: Cambridge UP, 1988.

Foucault, Michel. Power/Knowledge: Selected Interviews and Other Writings 1972-1977. Ed. Colin Gorden. Brighton, Sussex: Harvest, 1980.

Grace, Sherrill. ‘Gender as Genre: Atwood’s Autobiographical “I”.’ In Margaret Atwood: Writing and Subjectivity. Ed. Colin Nicholson. London: Macmillan, 1994. 189-218.

Hite, Molly. ‘An Eye for an I: The Disciplinary Society in Cat’s Eye.’ In Various Atwoods: Essays on the Later Poems, Short Fiction, and Novels. Ed. Lorraine M. York. Ontario: Anansi, 1995. 191-206.

Howells, Coral Ann. Margaret Atwood. London: Macmillan Press, 1996. Irigaray, Luce. This Sex Which is not One. Trans. Catherine Porter. Ithaca,

New York: Cornell UP, 1985. 23-33. Joseph, Suad. “Introduction: Theories and Dynamics of Gender, Self, and

Identity in Arab Families” In Intimate Selving in Arab Families: Gender, Self and Identity. Ed. Suad Joseph. Syracuse: Syracuse UP, 1999. 1-24.

—. “Brother-Sister Relationships: Connectivity, Love and Power in the Reproduction of Patriarchy in Lebanon.” In Intimate Selving in Arab Families: Gender, Self, and Identity. Ed. Suad Joseph. Syracuse: Syracuse UP, 1999. 113-140.

—. “My Son/Myself, My Mother/Myself: Paradoxical Relationalities of Patriarchal Connectivity.” In Intimate Selving in Arab Families: Gender, Self, and Identity. Ed. Suad Joseph. Syracuse: Syracuse UP, 1999.174-190.

Kandiyoti, Deniz. “Islam and Patriarchy: A Comparative Perspective.” In Women in Middle Eastern History: Shifting Boundaries in Sex and Gender. Ed. Nikki R. Kiddi & Beth Baron. New Haven, Conn.: Yale UP, 1991. 23-42.

O’Farrell, Clare. Michel Foucault. London: Sage Publications, 2006. Sharpe, Martha. “Margaret Atwood and Julia Kristeva: Space-Time, the

Dissident Woman Artist, and the Pursuit of Female Subjectivity in Cat’s Eye.” Essays on Canadian Writing 50 (1993): 174-189.

Tyson, Lois. Critical Theory Today: A User-Friendly Guide. New York and London Garland Publishing, Inc. 1999.

Zeidan, Joseph T. Arab Women Novelists: The Formative Years and Beyond. Albany: State of New York, 1995.

SECTION II B

PAPER PAPAS: FATHERHOOD IN LITERATURE

FATHERHOOD IN WORLD LITERATURES

CHAPTER ELEVEN

DISPLAYS OF FATHER-APPARITION IN CONTEMPORARY CONTEXT

OF IRANIAN YOUNG ADULT LITERATURE

TARANEH HOUSHYAR

Introduction

Within the current social and cultural context of Iran, designing the schemata of fatherhood seems to be strikingly unjustified. Considering fatherhood a post-gender discussion in the dialectic of gender and social studies, it requires an already-developed notion of masculine and feminine identities along with a view upon the dynamics of family1. Iran, on the verge of such reconstructions, would be a challenging case since on the one hand it is trying to come up with the modules of Western countries; and on the other hand, this coping process prevents it from the genuine meaning of fatherhood produced and understood in/by this country. Therefore, seeking a method of analysis for parenting, especially fathering, would lead us into a maze of unidentified subjectivities waiting to be defined through even greater intricacies of constituting gender issues2. The point of departure in this article is thus to detect and evaluate fatherhood through one of the most dilemmatic and controversial components of family and society: adolescent.

The power-struggle which is exceedingly a dominant theme in the relationship between the masculine role of father and such potent stage as adolescent provides us with a manifesting scope of what is perceived as fathering in its Iranian ground. John Stephens clarifies the significance of "masculine subjectivities" in the field of Young Adult Literature (YA literature) by explaining the link between narration of the text and webs of covert/overt ideologies in the social background of that narration:

Texts for young audiences are not "mere" narratives, but have an orientation toward models and ideologies already present in culture, and by

Displays of Father-Apparition in Iranian Young Adult Literature 135

giving these narrative form may reinforce them and refract them back to the culture or may propose some modification of them. The former case conforms with the social-constructionist view of subjectivity, and we would then conclude that patterns of behaviour are thus naturalized, and already learned attitudes and behaviours are confirmed and reinforced. (p. 29)

The kind of father agency reflected in the works of young adults opens a new perspective to the models of fatherhood in Iran which are not confirmed, and consequently have a long way to be digested, revised and/or encouraged.

The ideological intrusions within the literary texts enclose diverse views on the practice of fatherhood conserved or ignored in the society. Thus, the pivotal concern of the research is classified in four stages to find out: who is the desired father in the Iranian context of Young Adult fictions; to what extent the fathers pictured in the works are conscious of the distinctions or overlaps between the social and individual identities provided by the role; whether these fathers project any dissatisfaction or obstinacy to transgress; what are the family or public responses to the decisions made by fathers or imposed on them. As a result of this analysis in random novels for adolescents, published in Persian from 2010 to 2014, three states of fathering are highlighted3 based on the various representations of father-characters and their interpersonal relationships in these books.

Current Discussions of Fatherhood

In order to elaborate on a possible spectrum of fatherhood in Iran, first we have to clarify its distinct role from "gender," and more specifically "male," studies, for numerous researches have taken place in the two fields which are not only inoperative for the present article, but also misleading. The distinction has been broadly perused as a verifier of the recent view on fatherhood to both signify the masculine identity which has been marginalized by the fashioning of Feminisms; furthermore, to maximize the need for father-identity in social and familial bonds. Fidelma Ashe's The New Politics of Masculinity puts together that which is suggested and absorbed in fatherhood studies:

A critical problematisation of parenting would require an examination of the discourses that produce subjects’ understanding of parenting and the power-effects of these discourses. Such a problematisation is more probable if profeminism locates its analysis of masculinity in the material

Chapter Eleven

136

and discursive networks of contemporary social systems, instead of shifting it to an ill-defined pre-discursive realm of emotions that sidesteps the importance of these systems. (p. 121)

Since Iran's social milieu in the past decades cannot be definitely classified as an exact copy of Western societies, to consider models of fatherhood determined by European and American contexts would not be devoid of misrepresentation and false judgment. Consequently, the need for a more variable, experimental— rather than strictly methodological—scale might secure the newly started research on fathering in this country. Benefiting from Tim Edwards' findings on the diagrams of male identity, the present article has emphasized on "family" feedbacks as the current foreground of a method of fatherhood-analysis in Iran: "The family is perhaps the most complex arena within which the greatest sense of concern relating to a perceived crisis of masculinity resides" (p. 10).

The evolving researches published in a special issue of "Contemporary Fatherhood", 2015, in the Journal of Families, Relationships and Societies collect almost all recent controversial attitudes of fathering through accurate examinations of the sphere. Verifications of interpersonal challenges of the father role in these families though concentrated on their European models, make this volume of the journal a promising ground for the commencement of the familial scope of fathering in Iran. At the same time, the literary template of YA books written in Iran would actualize the speculation and individualization of a specific inter-play between the decided father-role and that of its reflection in family structures.

What is mainly focused on in most analyses introduced for YA literature signifies the vulnerable condition of youths in their family performances and treatments. Parents, being the prominent sources and mediums of knowledge and experience of the world, never cease to be presented either as practical models or breaking points with whose existences the youth identity/subjectivity is shaped. Yet, rather than repeating the musts of idealization and activities of the father in his behavioural pattern within the family, towards both his wife and children, here we are focusing on the ties which make such obligations and feed them while bringing examples of various responses of fathers to their positions.

Advocate-Father

Studies on fatherhood have been convinced to follow up and advertise a "new" aspect of modern fathering which is appreciated highly through both society and family. "New father" who is mostly a by-product of


feminist movements exclaim that to step over the boundaries of the position, he has to act beyond a "bread-winner." Along with such belief, emphasis is given to the term "involved father" who is emotionally engaged with all acts of parenting: "The contemporary involved father shares caring activities. This version of fatherhood has been realised through over political and policy commitment alongside cultural and discursive shifts in assumptions and practices in relation to fathering and fatherhood" (Dermott and Miller, 189). Meanwhile, the social acceptance of involved father does not guarantee its ultimate credibility:

Most political actors agree that the norm of involved fatherhood is a desirable policy goal, as it is shown to have a positive impact on child development and correspondence to shifts in public opinion towards more gender-egalitarian roles in both employment and family life. However, policy makers and campaign groups are divided on how to achieve this broad goal and indeed their approaches may be mutually incomplete. (Milner and Gregory, p. 204)

The New Father is undergoing revisions to fulfil expectations brought by its name. The very realization that fathering cannot be truly achieved by the congruence of breadwinning settles the foreground for the idea of advocate father in Iran.

The textual correspondence of this type of father reflects him as the one with certain social agreements. In all the three novels examined here, the father has done—is doing—great family and personal sacrifices to pave the way for the creation of a safe society/ family. As an example, in Only Dad Can Wake Me Up (2010) —/faqat b b m tav nand man r az khv b b d r kunad/—by Mojhgan Babamarandi, the book opens with the monologues of Behnam, the boy in his early teenage years, awaiting his father to return home after years of being a prisoner of war. Nothing would sound more grievous than the exploring hands of this blind man who is searching in vain to find the face of his son. For Behnam who has known and loved father-in-the-photo, this man is the resurrection of whatever nightmare: "I'm glancing at his photo. Dad's young. He's smiling. His teeth are white and trim; but this stranger oldster gets a crooked mouth when smiling. Has not a tooth, and such neat hair. His enormous dark glasses are so really ugly. He's skinny and spent" (p. 68)4. Having failed in owning the prestigious father back, Behnam elevates a shield by not communicating with his father.

This situation forces a great attempt on the side of father to prove a justified subjectivity and to reason upon his decisions for attending the war in order to win the face of legitimacy. "Deliberative father" in Ives’s research:

Chapter Eleven

138

Deliberation, in the sense being talked about here, involves a wide-ranging analysis of what one ought to do, involving thoughtful consideration of what one is prima facie obliged to do, what one is prima facie entitled to, one's own needs and the needs of others. It seeks to find one's action and choices, and to do so in a way that can be subject to external criticism; and that requires external discussion and negotiation. (Ives, p. 292)

Even social credibility, and the applause of his wife, cannot help his being withheld from fathering by his son. The model accepted and advertised by all components of society is judged differently and negatively from the viewpoint of the child. Unlike the father in this novel, Karbalayeeloo introduces emotional and social conflicts of advocate-father in Infantry in the Piano (2013) —/piy dah ni m dar piy nu/. This book is an ideological conflict exposed explicitly in what Rasool, the son, perceives as the meaning of fathering in his surroundings.

As a mechanic of heavy vehicles in the Iran-Iraq war, Rasool's father who is ironically called "heavy Mansoori" is situated in an unconscious but competitive position with the representatives of aristocrat fathers. While Mr. Mansoori has won the ideals of a father in a society struggling with war, his son brings to the surface all those hidden demands of society which crown a powerful, prosperous father. So "heavy Mansoori" experiences a deep sense of self-inquisition in the episode after Rasool leaves for his wealthy friend's house; a feeling of discrimination in a culture which respects him for participating in a war while breeding his child to respect the opposite: ". . . this indented form of the door along with the Jasmine plant shed on it like a chignon, and the lion-head sitting soundlessly on the door, all indicate that neither the house nor its residents have no mind for the war. As they carry on being fascinated by their aristocratic lives in such a serenity, incognizant of the place to which he was supposed to set late that night" (p. 118)5.

Living within condemnations of time and situation, the advocate-father finds no escape from victimizing himself to secure his family/country. Deep inside, he is conscious of the trade; rather than any social demand to take him under the yoke of such obedience, the advocate agency reveals to have roots in personal ideals of father subjectivity. Indeed, advocate agency which was expected to negotiate between the defined self in the father character and his child, provokes a figure struggling in his process of (re)shaping and confirmation. The requisite item in the characteristics of advocate-father, possessed in common by all advocate-fathers in these novels, is that they share a vulnerable, underprivileged level of society.

Perhaps Love and Pain and the Oak—/ishq va ranj va bal t/— by Reza Mozouni asserts emblems of the lower class more bitterly and constructively


to shape this type of fathering. The book, set in a village during the war, is a biography of the author's childhood, and his memory of a father who is constantly in pain, bearing poverty and thriving to make a normal life for his children. Death of the father which occurs early in the novel shatters Reza's childhood, yet marks the only remedy left for his father: "His hands are still warm. Hands which smell of suffering. Scent of forlornness and helplessness. Scent of loneliness and having no fraternity . . . there is an eccentric peace in father's face, as if he is no more concerned for the un-reaped wheat. He doesn’t have to moan till the daybreak for the ulcer's pain. He's sleeping calmly, and has sealed his eyelids . . ." (57). The kind of intentionality preserved by advocate-father thought vital for building up the sense of protection for his family/child, is directly affected by the "habitus"6 in a culture.

Aggressive-Father

Habitual factors in the life of modern man result in his rupture from home and family life. Pressure at/of work along with expectancies from the "new" masculine figure have made such distinct projection of fathering:

Given increased insecurity at work, if not unemployment, coupled with the rising participation of women in paid work and the commonality of dual-income household, there is much reason to assume that the image and indeed practice of men as providers, and the breadwinning ethic that goes with it, have been severely undermined if not displaced. (Edwards, p. 10)

The term aggressive-father is not an exaggeration to question the act of fathering provided by these figures, yet to highlight the bitter fact about an inevitable, unwanted product of machinery in the life of men as fathers. The frame within which the performativity of aggressive-father is judged by his family and society is mainly that of "breadwinning;" both success and failure in this field results in the father's inaccessibility.

The age of the father is intensely influential in the formation of this category explained by Daniel Johnson as: "Young parents face many challenges and without good support they can make choices that have ongoing negative consequences for themselves and their children" (322). The concern for money and making a materially supported life concerns the mind and behaviour of aggressive-fathers so much that they become reluctantly impatient in their communications, both with their wives and children. Unlike Mozouni's work, in When Mozhi Was Lost—/vaqt mozh gum shud/—(Hamidreza Shahabadi, 2012) the same illness of ulcer that is reminiscence of the years through which father was labouring abroad to

Chapter Eleven

140

make money, works as an excuse for the father's (Naser's) irritability. The following scene is pictured on the trip when Mozhi has forgotten to bring her father's pills:

And at that time Naser knapped his fork on the Chinese plate and said: "Go to hell! You always act like animals!" Mozhi said: "D dad . . . why are you swearing?" Naser who was fully mad by then bumped both palms on the table and said: "why am I swearing? I must feel pain till morning. Now you just ask why I'm swearing. If my stomach starts bleeding again, will YOU answer for that? (p. 15-16)

Actions of aggressive-father go beyond his control since the environmental elements, and especially working condition, are aimed to criticize machinery life with all father-identities who subject themselves to this style of living.

Also, it is worth mentioning that the portrayal of aggressive-fathers comes together with a process of unveiling the fact that these subjectivities are prototypically loners in familial as well as social stigmas; this is best projected through Mark Osborn's "invisible father" which: "suggests that they cannot be seen; the implication of this is that practitioners are not able to see them" (237). In other words, no matter how successfully they legitimize themselves as breadwinners, aggressive-fathers can never win the heart of their children nor the social approval. Lack of emotionality in father's relationship with his children is an allegory of the undiscussed defect experienced by the masculine subjectivity.

Aggressive-fathering which is shaped and reinforced in severe conditions turns out to be the source of trouble and peril in the family. While being nurtured by the illusion that he is managing to secure the family, aggressive-father detaches himself from all bonds of family happiness. One extreme story of ignorance is given through the behaviour of the obsessed journalist as the father-character in Frenzied7—/d v niv r/—by Naghi Soleimani (2014):

Dad closed the door, went straight to his computer at the hall-corner and entrusted the kids to me. Another night with lonesomeness and weariness, without mom and dad was starting over. The only sound heard was that of computer keys. The clack of keys made me and Mahsa frenetic. (31)

Fathers in both novels prove to be in urgent need of the environmental and social support to help them with their responsibilities. This is developed in Davies and Neale's research on young fathers under the authority of a "mentor" whose absence would result in serious failure of the father with


minimum experiences and facilities: "The specialist learning mentor . . . has played a key role in these developments, bringing his specialist knowledge on beat on the development of wider father-inclusive practice across the locality" (336). The social schema in Iran provides little, or no, aid with the crisis while putting the blame on the subjective practices of these fathers.

Abstruse-Father

Positive effects of modernization on fathering can be observed in complements of "reflexive fatherhood" which gathers all aspects of emotionally available fathers. Regardless of age, social class and power that were the controlling components of the two mentioned classifications of fatherhood in Iran, sodality rules in the formation of abstruse-father. The master word "choice" contributes to Allan Westering's basis for theorizing the availability and companionship of fatherhood: "The father-child relationship is not (only) given but (always also) chosen; or rather, it involves practices of agency and choices. In this case, fathering is woven together with the practical challenges of everyday life . . ." (219). Connotation of choice is so widespread so that it contains those dynamisms of coordination between ephemeral vindication and perdurable support. Therefore, the father's involvement is not limited to the notion of breadwinning or being emotionally engaged, but the extent of the father's devotion to understand and befriend his child. The results announced by the examinations of Gatrell et al. on distinct fathering express that: " . . . breadwinning was important for most men, including involved fathers, for practical and personal reasons, even in situations where men were fathering alone and finding this stressful . . . Yet among involved fathers, economic provisions were balanced with the need, or desire, to engage in childcare" (235).

Being involved, the abstruse-father is determined to thrive as much as demanded to set forth the child's pleasance and health; but what is more important is to stabilize the essence of "being-there". In its literary reflection, this is done by the presence of some objects that echo the father's protection when he is away, or even dead. Mehdi Rajabi (2013) in The Ogre-Can8—/kunsirv-e gh l/—pictures a "button temple" as the haven of Tooka, the protagonist of the book who has lost his father in an accident: "Temple was the small chamber Atabak [his father] and I made from large and flexible lumbers around four years ago" (19). Indeed, the description of lumbers is an association of the complexity in the characteristic of abstruse-father; both inclusive and concomitant.

Chapter Eleven

142

Astonishingly, the abstruse-father does not try to flick and reconstruct the notion of fatherhood, at least this is not done consciously. In fact, he is subject to the theory of "intergenerational transmission" defined by Bosoni and Baker; accordingly, everything around the abstruse-father, even the condemnations addressed to other forms of fathering, is a stimulus for progress: "Such an inclination to compare and contrast reflects a desire for current fathers to put their own stamp on their parenting practices, triggered in part not only by growing educational—and material—aspirations, but also sociocultural expectations that are also class specific" (242). Intergenerational transmission once studied from the scope of abstruse-fathering resembles a masculine identity who steps beyond the cultural and ideological limits of his age to communicate with his child. As a result of such communication, not only does the father reveal his satisfaction, but many abilities in the child are discovered and encouraged. Thus, Romances of Jonah in the Fish's Belly (2012)—/ shigh nih'h -yi y nis dar shikam-e m h /—provokes a convenient instance of this stage as Sara's talent in playing piano is flourished through her father's scrutiny: ". . . for a while he was gazing at my fingers meticulously; then trying to control his excitement, he said: . . . with this finger and this one, second and fifth fingers, you can play a twelfth or thirteenth-distance simultaneously. You know what it means? It means your fingers can slide on the claviers easily, exactly like Clara Haskil" (24).

Social restrictions of age are ignored since the abstruse-father requires to be effectively involved with the tensions of parenting. Representing an anti-cliché of fathering, some of his behaviors and attitudes cope with that of his child, if not more childish. As a young father, Janan's method of meditation in climbing trees when he is nervous, Return of Hordad (2014)—/b zgasht-e hurd d/— is explicitly free of all culturally defined norms for fathering. The part narrated from his daughter's point of view reflects the intimacy in a father-daughter relationship: "I know Janan perfectly well. Whenever his mind gets mixed up, first he starts plucking the hair above his forehead, then he does stuff not fitting his age at all. He relaxes in this way" (33). The mutual understanding between Hordad and her father clarifies the quality of a deep bond sprouting in familial structures that cannot be conceived by, and is independent of, the time they spend together. In the modules of Shirani, this is conveyed by the practice of "caring father" who: "In terms of the relationship with the child, their conception of involvement more closely resembled a model of disclosing intimacy . . . than one based on quantity of time together" (257). Indeed, abstruse-father befriends his child rather unconsciously and more


as a consequence of a distinct subjectivity configured by his constructive, vivacious childishness.

Conclusions

Novels written for Young Adult audience in Iran are challenging cases for mainstream verifications of fatherhood since they illustrate premises of interpersonal relationships between fathers and children in current familial discourses. Types of fatherhood discussed in this research are mainly studied through the social and cultural assumptions of parenting represented in their textual structures. The first forum of fathering introduced as advocate-father is characterized as follow:

Basically belongs to War Pieces (Iran-Iraq War 1980-1988): though written years after the war, the ideological constructions and presumptions of war era lead in commendation of this kind of fatherhood. Social realizations of war-period make it morally admired within the nation (more a father in the nation than his family). His individual identity is suppressed through environmental refiguring of self, thus nothing of a terrestrial person is defined for him. This fathering is apt to be a cause for the child's feeling of trauma (a sense of guilt experienced by the adolescent whose character is not determined enough to stand against the ideological confirmations feeding the advocate-father, nor can s/he remain ignorant to this figure who is sacrificial in every view). Never intends to project dissatisfaction: neither toward his responsibilities as a father, nor to social expectations of his gender.

Second to this category is a stereotype of masculine identity in Iran's post-war era through which the society is undergoing notions of change, identifying himself in/with technology. Aggressive-father brings to mind the modules of "bread-winner" analyzed profoundly in Western societies. Literary projections of this type are:

Unlike the advocate-father who is praised by society, this father is broadly admired at work but never in his family or any other social conducts. His individual identity is framed within compulsions of work.

Chapter Eleven

144

Forces the child toward making extreme and dangerous decisions (that concludes in father's regression as well as child's mistrust in both social and familial bonds).

Finally, abstruse-father seems to be the child's ideal image of fatherhood. Occasionally, the writer makes a transparent borderline between advocate-father and this one. Main features count as:

Having latent or inconspicuous presence in the plot. Highly critical of the social norms/values. Persistent to maintain an individual, detached identity. Helps to awaken and empower the child's self-esteem and capability.

Works Cited

English References

Ashe, Fidelma. The New Politics of Masculinity. New York: Routledge, 2007.

Dermott, Esther and Tina Miller. "More than Sum of Its Parts? Contemporary Fatherhood Policy, Practice and Discourse." Families, Relationships and Societies 4: 183-95, 2015.

Edwards, Tim. 2006. Cultures of Masculinity. New York: Routledge. Gatrell, J. Carol et al. "The Price of Love: the Prioritisation of Childcare

and Income Earning among UK Fathers." Families, Relationships and Societies 4: 225-38, 2015.

Ives, Jonathan. "Theorizing the 'Deliberative Father': Compromise, Progress and Striving to do fatherhood Well." Families, Relationships and Societies 4: 281-94, 2015 Johnson, Daniel. "Not Your Stereotypical Young Father, Not Your Typical Teenage Life." Families, Relationships and Societies 4: 319-22, 2015.

Lammy, David. "Bringing Your Father into the Fold: Policy Challenges and Developments." Families, Relationships and Societies 4: 315-17, 2015.

Letizia Bosoni, Maria and Sarah Baker. "The Intergenerational Transmission of Fatherhood: Perspectives from the UK and Italy." Families, Relationships and Societies 4: 239-51, 2015.

Mazzucchelli, Sara and Giovanna Rossi. "'I'd Like to But I Can't': the Implementation of the Italian Act on Parental Leave." Families, Relationships and Societies 4: 295-308, 2015.


Milner, Susan and Abigail Gregory. "Fathers, Care and Family Policy in France: an Unfinished Revolution?" Families, Relationships and Societies 4: 197-208, 2015.

Neale, Bren and Laura Davis. "Seeing Young Father in a Different Way." Families, Relationships and Societies 4: 309-13, 2015.

—. "Supporting Young Fathers: the Promise, Potential and Perils of Statutory Service Provision". Families, Relationships and Societies 4: 331-38, 2015.

Osborn, Mark. 2015. "Young Fathers: Unseen but Not Invisible". Families, Relationships and Societies 4: 323-29. doi: 10.1332/204674315X14352272532129.

Shirani, Fiona. "'I'm Bringing Back a Dead Art': Continuity and Change in the Lives of Young Fathers." Families, Relationships and Societies 4: 253-66, 2015.

Stephens, John. "'A Page Just Waiting to be Written On': Masculinity Schemata and the Dynamics of Subjective Agency in Junior Fiction." Ways of Being Male: Representing Masculinities in Children's Literature and Film: 38-54. New York: Routledge, 2002.

Westering, Allan. "Reflexive Fatherhood in Everyday Life: the Case of Denmark". Families, Relationships and Societies 4: 209-23, 2002.

Wissö, Therése and Lars Plantine. "Fathers and Parental Support in everyday family life: informal support in Sweden beyond the Auspices of Welfare state". Families, Relationships and Societies 4: 267-80, 2015.

Persian References

Babamarandi, Mozhgan. Faqat b b m tav nand man r az khv b b d r kunad. Tehran: Kanoonparvaresh, 2010.

Kalhor, Fariba. B zgasht-e hurd d. Tehran: Kanoonparvaresh, 2014. Karbalaeeloo, Morteza. Piy dah ni m dar piy nu. Tehran: Kanoonparvaresh,

2013. Khanian, Jamshid. shigh nih'h -yi y nis dar shikam-e m h . Tehran:

Kanoonparvaresh, 2012. Mozouni, Reza. ishq va ranj va bal t. Tehran: Kanoonparvaresh, 2014. Rajabi, Mehdi. Kunsirv-e gh l. Tehran: Ofoqco, 2013. Shahabadi, Hamidreza. Vaqt mozh gum shud. Tehran: Kanoonparvaresh,

2012. Soleimani, Naghi. D v niv r. Tehran: Ofoqco, 2014.

Chapter Eleven

146

Notes 1 Cf. Fidelma Ashe (2007): "The restructuring of the family, a changing workplace, the expansion of the equality legislation, the challenges of feminism and alternative sexualities have all opened social debate around men's subjectivities and 'proper' social roles" (1). 2 Among the European countries, Italy seems to be experiencing a somewhat similar dilemma in the criteria of childcare as Mazzucchelli and Rossi (2015) mention: "As regards the attitude towards both care and work, the policy implemented in Italy is far from fostering a 'double emancipation', because it lacks a family orientation (the state has no family culture model to inspire welfare policies or work-family reconciliation choices) and its strategy to promote sexual equality is still weak" (304). 3 All the three types of fatherhood—"advocate", "aggressive", "abstruse"—introduced in this article are termed by the writer and have not been used in current literary criticisms in Iran. 4 Since the books have not been translated to English, all translations of texts are done by the researcher for current purpose of this article. 5 Inscribing the link between two issues of fatherhood and culture; in David Lammy's words, the latter has an inevitable influence on the former: ". . . the biggest barrier to fathers playing a deeper role in family life is not legislative restrictions but cultural ones" (Lammy, p. 316). 6 "Habitus is something that occurs beyond conscious thought and intentional action, and it is perceived by the subject as self-evident and natural" (Therése Wissö, p.270). 7 The title is translated by the researcher for the purpose of this article. 8 Researcher's translation.

CHAPTER TWELVE

REBELS WITH(OUT) A CAUSE AND THEIR SOVIET FATHERS

IN SERHIY ZHADAN’S DEPECHE MODE

MATEUSZ WIETLICKI The complex relationship between the First World and the Second World caused by the Cold War resulted in the emergence of the teenage bad boy image in American popular culture (Medovoi 1). This figure of a young positive rebel, whose attributes are awareness and a strong sense of identity, was introduced by Robert M. Lindner in the 1944 book Rebel Without A Cause: The Hypnoanalysis Of A Criminal Psychopath, where he contrasted it with the Soviet “Mass Man ideal”, which he called “antibiological and unprogressive in the widest sense” (Lindner 222). This concept of a teenage rebel became widespread in popular culture after the release of Rebel Without A Cause, the 1955 movie starring James Dean, and has appeared in American literature and cinema ever since.

Although the Soviet censorship tried to antagonize the products of Anglo-American popular culture, some Anglo-American models of masculinity appeared in the mass media and literature even before the collapse of communism. As a result of perestroika many previously banned films and books were finally released. Interestingly, teenage rebels like Jim Stark and Holden Caulfield, who were nothing like homo sovieticus, became models of new rebellious identities for the next generation of post-Soviet Eastern-Europeans. The fiction of Serhiy Zhadan, one of Ukraine’s most popular contemporary writers, provides numerous examples of boys rebelling against the generation of their Soviet fathers. While it is impossible to treat Zhadan’s fiction as a full compendium of knowledge on the state of Ukrainian manhood, it contains images of masculinity and relationships between fathers and sons which are accurate literary representations of the changes taking place in Ukraine in the last thirty years.

Chapter Twelve

148

In Depeche Mode, like in all of his subsequent novels, Zhadan goes back to the late 1980s and early 1990s. His male protagonists grow up in a period of transformation from communism/totalitarianism to democracy, in the age of spreading globalisation and growing consumerism. The plots and titles of his books and short stories often refer to Anglo-American popular culture, as is the case in Big Mac, Anarchy in the UKR, Red Elvis, Ten Way of Killing John Lennon and Depeche Mode, which in turn manifests in frequent references to such images of pop-cultural rebels as Elvis Presley, Iggy Pop, Mick Jagger, and Chuck Berry. However, it is not only because of Zhadan’s pop-cultural inspirations that his protagonists emerge as post-Soviet positive rebels.

The plot of Depeche Mode, one of the first post-Soviet Ukrainian coming-of-age novels, is located in the early 1990s. The young protagonists, who grow up in Kharkiv, face unexpected social changes caused by Ukraine’s sudden regaining of independence. Even though the mass media are still full of remnants of the Soviet propaganda, they promote new globalizing models of behaviour. Young Ukrainians try to fit into the new reality by revolting against the adults and the state institutions: they overuse alcohol, drugs and tobacco; they steal and illegally sell Russian vodka; they also get into fights with hooligans and the police. However, the boys bond and form a strong sense of collective identity. Their behaviour is typical of ressentiment, because it is not associated with any desire for a real change in the system of values. Moreover, the protagonists, often unconsciously, duplicate the behaviour of their parents. Tamara Hundorova, a well-known Ukrainian scholar, argues that this ressentiment is related to the “absence of the father figure.” Furthermore, Hundorova refers to Zhadan’s writing as “talking about nothing” (Hundorova). Even though the absence of the father figure pointed by Hundorova turns out to be crucial in the protagonists’ rebellion, the gradual evolution of the anarchic ressentiment into a mature rebellion in Zhadan’s subsequent fiction shows a certain diagnosis about his generation: it is affected not only by the trauma of totalitarianism but also by the trauma of globalization. Thus, this growth seems to confirm that ressentiment is a ground on which a real rebellion that completely changes the system of values can grow (Fatyga 168).

Nowadays young people not only in the First World, but also in the Second World remain much longer under the influence of adults and state institutions than even 30 years ago. Men, who constitute the majority of characters in Zhadan’s novels, are trapped in a period resembling guyland, described by Michael Kimmel as the time between the age of 16 and 25-9, a period of suspension between boyhood and manhood; the stage when

Rebels With(out) a Cause and their Soviet Fathers in Depeche Mode 149

boys spend time together proving their manhood by ignoring the obligations of adulthood and doing manly things like drinking alcohol, watching porn movies and sport games, telling homophobic jokes, taking part in vandalism (Kimmel 4). According to Kimmel, this is a common stage in a man’s life but a prolonged stay in guyland involves a risk of suffering from the Peter Pan syndrome, which transforms a young man into a puer aeternus and prevents him from reaching full maturity (Kiley 20). Even though this American concept was not coined with young post-Soviet men in mind, the presence of a Ukrainian version of guyland in Zhadan’s post-Soviet fiction is evident, since his protagonists try to escape from the responsibilities of adulthood. Yet, in this post-totalitarian situation guyland turns out to be a symbolic state of mind that helps young men to rebel against subjugation by the post-Soviet adults.

The protagonists of Depeche Mode try to fit into the post-totalitarian world, but they tend to see that dubious state institutions, as well as deceitful mass media promoting a distorted image of the world, are still creating the reality they are surrounded by. The novel is narrated by the protagonist named Zhadan, who goes back to the time when he got drunk for the first time at the age of fourteen, and then moves to 1993, when he was nineteen. Finding out from Robert, a strange man with a very non-Ukrainian name, about the suicide of his friend Sasha Carburetor’s stepfather, Zhadan decides to find the boy with the help of his mates and tell him about this tragedy. However, the boys know that Sasha has had a complicated relationship with his one-legged stepfather. One of them immediately notes that, despite everything, “father and stepfather – are two completely different things,” which emphasizes the usurper function of the latter (Zhadan 82).

As rightly pointed by Ania Loomba, the colonial world often operates like a family where the nation of the colonized country is like a mother and “the leaders and heroes assume the role of fathers” (Loomba 225). Although in the Ukrainian culture Taras Shevchenko is traditionally recognized as the symbolic father of the nation, the authorities of the Soviet Union put Stalin in the totalitarian usurper role of not only the father of the Soviet people, and thus Ukrainians, but also their God (Heller 47-8). The motif of the stepfather's suicide in Depeche Mode can refer to the almost simultaneous death of the Soviet empire and to throwing off the pedestal the symbols of Soviet propaganda. Looking for Sasha turns into an attempt to deal with the Soviet legacy in the progressively globalized world. The other boys who decide to look for Sasha include Zhadan’s best friend Vasya the Communist (who is fascinated by communism and its real fathers: Marx, Engels, Lenin, and Trotsky), and a hooligan nicknamed

Chapter Twelve

150

Sobaka Pavlov. Still, Zhadan is the only one of the three boys to find Sasha, who turns out to be staying at a very stereotypically masculine Young Pioneer camp. The main protagonist decides not to inform his friend about the death of his stepfather. When Sasha says that he renounced both his stepfather and his mother, and for him “they do not exist,” Zhadan understands the usurper role of the man in Sasha’s life and thinks that “he had so much shit in his life that this whole bullshit with his one-legged stepfather and his uncle Robert is not needed” (Zhadan 14-15, 239-41). When Zhadan finally gets to the pioneer camp, the suicide of Sasha’s stepfather turns out to be not a tragedy but ‘bullshit’ because the boy has already symbolically killed his stepfather and mother.

The need to achieve a socially constructed hegemonic masculinity and continuously proving it is rooted in the culture of colonialism and patriarchy (Connell 452-478). In Depeche Mode it collides with the fear of being suspected of homosexuality. The collapse of the USSR led the to re-emergence of themes previously eliminated in the Soviet mass media, such as gender and sexuality. Homophobic discourse in Zhadan’s fiction seems to represent a defensive response to the feminization of the colonized lands and the conquered men (Loomba 165). The protagonists of the novel show homohysteria, a fear of being accused of homosexuality (Zhadan 50). Thus, they repeatedly accuse other men of their alleged homosexuality, referring to them as “faggots” and “queers.” Despite the sarcastic statement that “homosexuality is not among our interests,” which appears in the novel, as well as similar conclusions in Zhadan’s other works, his prose abounds numerous non-heteronormative themes and characters (Zhadan 50).

The fear of being accused of homosexuality forces the protagonists to limit interactions with their neighbour nick-named Cocoa, who desperately wants to belong to their clique:

Cocoa is fat and we don't like him but he clings to us [...] in his suit he looks terrible, but he likes it, I have no idea who sells these suits, but Cocoa somehow managed to find one, he also thinks it's chic, he is the only one I know who's into stuff like that, Cocoa is probably the only one of my friends who visits a hair salon, and uses some queer gel, he even shaves from time to time. (Zhadan 29-30, 47) When it turns out that Cocoa is the only person who knows where

Sasha is, the protagonists decide to find their missing friend on their own rather than having to deal with him. Still, they fail to find Sasha without Cocoa, whom they have to meet in the apartment of his older lover, a pro-European journalist named Gosha, referred to as the “faggot number one,”


who turns out to be a “fat bald guy in a blue silk robe.” Zhadan shows disgust for the man and calls his apartment “queer” (Zhadan 155-8).

The boys demonstrate a different attitude towards their stereotypically masculine friend Chapai, with whom they drink vodka and smoke marijuana. When Chapai says he has gonorrhoea, they automatically ask if he is gay: “Who did it to you? – I ask. – Sorry, I mean who did you do? – Who? – Chapai doesn’t get it– Well – I say – who you got it from? – Oh – says Chapai – Nobody. It’s an everyday clap” (Zhadan 99). Even though they do not believe their older friend when he denies the accusation, they keep on drinking with him: “Sure – I say. – You, Marxists, are just like angels: you don’t fuck and you don’t drink.” The protagonists do not negate Chapai’s sexual orientation because he represents the Soviet lack of sexuality. Moreover, he does not fit into the boys’ stereotypical image of homosexuality. Gays (or rather individuals accused of homosexuality) in Depeche Mode are either effeminate foreigners (like Wakha – a rich man who sells vodka and American candies), or Ukrainians fascinated with the foreign culture of consumerism like Cocoa, who is infatuated with Reverend Johnson-and-Johnson and a boy nick-named Little Chuck Berry) and Vasya’s schoolmate, who masturbates while looking at a poster of Dave Gahan. Interestingly, the boys also refer to the majority of older men associated with the post-Soviet state institutions such as the police, the army and the railroad as “faggots.” Using this word in this context renounces the generation of their fathers and shows them no respect. Accusing older men of homosexuality is supposed to prove the boys’ own manhood and show their superiority over the subjugated and inferior men (Bourdieu 32).

Chapai, who lives in a closed factory, suggests to the teenagers that they should steal a copper bust of Molotov, who does not symbolize a father figure, as argued by Tamara Hundorova, but rather the Soviet power and yet another “national stepfather.” It is worth noting that as the “fathers of the nation,” Stalin and Molotov went down in Ukrainian history as being jointly responsible for Holodomor, an act of genocide of 1932-3, which caused deaths of about 4-6 million people.

While visiting Chapai, the boys are talking about communism and the future of their country. Chapai posits a theory of “permanent fuck-it-all-ism,” which shows that he is disappointed with the post-Soviet reality and has no clear vision of the future. Older than the protagonists and raised in the Soviet times, Chapai calls the present-day reality “fucked up.” Boys do not know how to change this “fuck-it-all-ism,” but what distinguishes them from Chapai is their faith in the very possibility of change, as well as the anarchic sense that one has to “do something.” Therefore, when

Chapter Twelve

152

Chapai passes out drunk, without a second of thought they steal the bust of Molotov and quickly decide to sell it to a girl named Marusia.

The problem of disagreement between generations usually deepens during periods of social transformations, when the trauma leads to the emergence of a new generation that tears down the hierarchy of values of the older one (Pilkington 12). Moreover, as rightly pointed out by Leszek Kolakowski, in the post-totalitarian situation:

children would like to be adults, because they imagine that adults are completely free, and no one tells them anything. Adults, on the other hand, would rather be children because they think that children are provided with safety. So both are human feelings. We need freedom and security, but we cannot be fully provided with both (Kolakowski). In the novel the issue of generational conflict appears quite frequently.

All parents in Depeche Mode are absent in the lives of their children and the fathers do not provide them with any authority or models of masculinity. What is more, they cannot change it, because they grew up in a totalitarian reality, where everyone had to be like “brothers and sisters” raised by only one “father of the nation,” who held the absolute power (Loomba 225). The majority of these men work in state institutions despised by their sons. Boys rebel against them, believing that establishments subjugate and limit individual freedom. The novel confronts the patriarchal myth of the father as the head of the family. As rightly pointed out by Agnieszka Matusiak, these men were destroyed by the enslaving system and the totalitarian trauma that they have not overcome, which consequently prevents them from building healthy relationships with their children, especially sons (Matusiak 254-267).

Even though Zhadan says he has a “normal family, normal parents,” they do not appear in the novel. Just like the other boys, he wishes to have a father figure that would represent law, order and authority—values that do not exist in the chaotic post-Soviet reality. Despite saying that he has a normal family, the protagonist knows “fatherly attention” only from globalized TV. Zhadan thus expresses this desire after visiting Gosha:

[…] so why can’t somebody adopt me? why can’t this fag be my father? I would be the son of a faggy regiment, I am 19, I am now self-sufficient, I do not need constant attention, nobody needs to change my diapers and feed me with oatmeal – yes, some minimal food, hot water, toilet paper, porn videos, chicks in the kitchen, weed on the balcony, but it's not even the most important, the main thing is the fatherly attention, regular and continuous fatherly attention, the real fatherly attention, as on TV (Zhadan 167).


Soviet fathers in Depeche Mode appear to be men “castrated” by totalitarianism (Zabuzhko 171). They struggle with building healthy relationships with their children as Soviet propaganda has taught them that Stalin should be the only father of Soviet men. Marusia’s father, who is a rich and influential ‘real general with a supply of cannon fodder in the barracks,’ is a good example as he tries to use his power and money to fulfil the responsibilities of a father by buying his teenage daughter an apartment (Zhadan 137). When she becomes pregnant at the age of 15, he encourages her to have an abortion and buys her an expensive car.

The girl rebels against her father, who represents patriarchy and totalitarianism. This rebellion is not open because the fear of losing him makes Marusia rebel only on the most intimate level of sexuality. She breaks with the patriarchal image of a good and asexual girl by sleeping with various men, including many characters in the novel, even the homosexual Gosha. Zhadan mentions that “she didn’t remember some of us, but she’s slept with all of us, for her sex was something much more stimulating” (Zhadan 138). Sex seems to be the girl’s only way to overcome her own trauma. She tries to find intimacy in her lovers because she has not found it in her parents. When the boys suggest buying the copper bust of Molotov, without hesitation Marusia says: “I like it – he’s similar to my father” (Zhadan 156). In this bust she finds her symbolical stepfather, who, like her own father, is passive and cold.

At the end of the novel Zhadan recalls Marusia hugging Molotov and reflects on her relationship with her father:

Then I think of Marusia, how is she, I think that she sits on the balcony hugging her Molotov, which is somehow similar to her father – the General. Why she can’t just sit there with her dad? What does it bother her? I don’t know, maybe when you have an apartment with a view of the city council and a garage with a car, a crashed Lada, but who cares it’s still a Lada, you fail to understand, for you it’s much more natural to embrace a copper bust of Molotov, a member of the Central Committee, than your own father, how tacky (Zhadan 240). The boy does not see that Marusia’s father is just like the copper bust

of Molotov. They are both incapable of showing their feelings. Zhadan seems to envy Marusia her expensive belongings, but he does not understand that the girl is a lost victim of not only the post-totalitarian trauma, but also of the trauma of globalization. Trying to find intimacy in various sexual partners, she treats sexuality as a product and loses herself in promiscuity, which does not help as it only deepens the trauma.

Chapter Twelve

154

A generational conflict is also reflected in the relationship of a police officer named Mykola Ivanovich and his drug addict son. The policeman works and fails to find time to truly bond with his rebellious teenager. He accuses the boy of using his belongings, which may indicate the boy’s need for attention. The man is passively present in the upbringing of his child and seems to be a typical representative of the police, a state institution symbolizing the subjugating post-Soviet power. Repeatedly emphasizing that everything belongs to him – “MY stuff [...] MY cigarettes [...] MY keys” – the police officer uses symbolic violence caused by the fear of losing power (Zhadan 72). His son becomes addicted to drugs: he starts from sniffing his father’s glue and later ends up on resuscitation after trying to rob a chemist’s shop. Still, Ivanovich does not blame his son or himself for these events. For him, it is the fault of the system:

What a fucked up country! – Suddenly Mykola Ivanovich says. – The people are dying like flies. My son had to be resuscitated […] at night three days ago he burgled to a chemist’s shop. He says that he wanted to get some vitamins. Well, I already know, what kind of vitamins, you won’t fool me, with MY experience. […] There he took some pills, ravened the whole package, and when he was on his way out – he fainted and so he got stuck in the skylight. […] He was just dehydrated you know? He sat there for nearly two days only on pills (Zhadan 201-3). Moreover, he rejects the idea of his son’s progressive addiction by

downplaying the incident. Simultaneously, he seems to find a symbolic son in Zhadan. Instead of dealing with his own child, he helps the protagonist and shows him compassion:

You have tonsils […] they should be cut out. […] Oh, my son, my son… What am I gonna do with you? […] In this state you will be caught again by the police within five minutes. You will be caught by the same fags that brought you here. They are young, for them it’s like knocking down the enemy’s aircraft […] Yes, you’d better just sit here […] Here you are the safest (Zhadan 73). Mykola Ivanovich is not a good role model, but he does not resemble

his colleagues, who, as he says, instead of helping the citizens, repeatedly attack them because they treat violence as entertainment. This difference rather seems to be a consequence of his occupational burnout caused by the collapse of the Soviet ideals than a genuine concern for the residents.

The protagonists know that state institutions such as the police, the army, and the health care system are like simulacra – they do not meet


their basic functions and do not resemble those present in the Western and Anglo-American mass media. The policemen described in the novel use violence against the weak because it reinforces their sense of control, power and masculinity. Thus, they show their own postcolonial weakness: being ‘castrated’ by the totalitarian Soviet power, they attack defenceless people. As Chapai says:

All law enforcement agencies operate solely in order to maintain their existence, they do not produce anything, and they do not provide any benefits. If tomorrow we closed the KGB, nothing would change (Zhadan 117).

Nevertheless, their existence is inevitable for it is based on symbolic violence, which constructs people’s knowledge about the world.

Sobaka Pavlov has a particularly bad experience with both the police and the health care system. During a soccer game that he attends even though he does not support any particular team but only wants to get into a “masculine” fight, he loses consciousness, which “saves him” because officials “don’t kill him on the spot, as required by the instructions of a sergeant’s behaviour” (Zhadan 227). Sobaka is taken to hospital, from where he is removed by a nervous nurse and then thrown on a sidewalk. At the end of the novel, having witnessed a policeman’s unjust attack on a disabled person at the train station, Sobaka decides to physically rebel against the system:

[…] he walks up to one of the cops, the older one […] and hits his face so hard that his cap falls to the ground, and the sergeant himself falls, but then […] another officer comes for him, the younger one, and then two or maybe even three motherfuckers in uniforms run from the train station (Zhadan 227). The police officers “beat Sobaka directly on the platform” and

“handcuff him to a bench, pour water from a bucket and start to fight again.” The boy loses consciousness and after a few hours the sergeants allow him to return home with a broken collarbone and a concussion. The injuries are so severe that Sobaka is rushed to hospital. After a few days in a coma the teenager recovers and once again rebels by trying to commit suicide:

Sobaka walks into the office of the Head of the Department, where he finds aspirin, ascorbic acid and some other pills and takes it all right there. […] The next morning Sobaka is found lying on the floor, with saliva dripping from his mouth (Zhadan 229).

Chapter Twelve

156

Once again Sobaka is resuscitated only to end up in a mental facility where he ‘quickly gains weight and becomes wild.’ In this prison-like hospital he meets his older friend Chapai, who does not recognize him. Chapai’s madness symbolically caused by the boys who took the bust of Molotov, the last symbol of the old system, seems as the only way he can rebel against the incomprehensible reality that is devoid of order. Sobaka, on the other hand, faces an ultimatum: the doctor tells him that he has to either go to jail or join the army. The boy chooses the latter and he involuntarily changes from a hooligan and a young rebel into a participant of an institution he had previously despised. Finally, Sobaka disappears. His spontaneous rebellion shows not only the difficulty of making a real change, but also the possibility of a rebel becoming an enslaved representative of one of the hated state institutions.

The dissolution of the Eastern Bloc between 1989 and 1991 forced the citizens of the newly formed countries into performing a fundamental work for their sovereignty: the rethinking of the totalitarian legacy. Nowadays, from the perspective of the last twenty years, it is obvious that the strategy of clearing the post-communist countries of totalitarianism remains unsatisfactory. This is largely a consequence of the overly liberal approach of the new governments, which from the outset, albeit in varying degrees, adopted the strategy of their predecessors to ‘forgive and forget,’ concluding that the construction of a democratic society requires making a number of difficult choices that often incur diverse costs.

The collapse of the Soviet Union and the subsequent political transformations almost overnight changed the process of growing-up of Ukrainians born in the seventies. This generation faced a challenge of creating a new post-Soviet identity that would be different from the generation of their parents, who were brought up in totalitarianism imposing the homo sovieticus identity on everyone. Teenage protagonists of Depeche Mode rebel because they find it difficult to fit into the post-Soviet reality, with its clash of totalitarian models of behaviour and globalizing consumerism. Teenagers do not understand and respect their parents’ generation; the latter are unable to provide role models to young people.

The adults in the novel, who were raised in a totalitarian world, consider youth rebellion abnormal. They do not believe in the possibility of real change of reality and continue to live according to the Soviet standards. Hence, they treat their children as disturbers of the social order. Boys in Depeche Mode are constantly trying to prove that they are not like their fathers, whom they treat as ‘the others’ just like the Soviet system. Yet, they do not quite understand premises of a real rebellion characterized


by the rejection of the system of values existing in a given culture in order to replace them with new ones, as well as by the rejection of the institutionalized means and replacing them with new ones (Fatyga 168). Because they cannot enjoy freedom, they simply act according to the anarchist principle of ‘better to do something than to do nothing.’ That is why they get into fights, drink lots of illegally acquired alcohol, and smoke soft drugs. Hence, they find it difficult to transform ressentiment into a thoughtful rebellion, something that could tangibly make a change. Because of the lack of positive role models, teenagers in Depeche Mode are stuck in guyland, the period of transition that helps them avoid the repetition of the fate of their parents. In his subsequent novels, Zhadan shows that his writing is not ‘talking about nothing’ but constitutes a project presenting new Ukrainian values. Ressentiment serves as the foundation of a true rebellion, and when teenage protagonists leave guyland, they evolve into grown men slowly learning how to face the post-Soviet reality.

Ukrainians have tried to build a civil society and rebel against the post-totalitarian influences, most notably during the Orange Revolution, but until now they have faced economic, linguistic, social and cultural problems, as if confirming the words of George Lamming that “the colonial experience […] is a continuing psychic experience that has to be dealt with long after the actual situation formally ends” (Loomba 195). With no doubt, Ukraine’s current situation proves that two decades after the collapse of communism, the social trauma caused by totalitarianism has not been overcome. Nonetheless, the Euromaidan revolution and the sudden appearance of a civil society prove that young Ukrainians have never been closer to democracy.

Works Cited

Anderson, Erick. Inclusive Masculinity: The Changing Nature of Masculinities. New York: Taylor & Francis 2009.

Bourdieu, Pierre. Masculine Domination. Stanford: Polity, 2001. Connell, R.W. ‘A Whole New World: Remaking Masculinity in the

Context of the Environmental Movement’, Gender and Society, 4 (1990), 452-478.

Erikson, Erik H. Children and Society (New York: Columbia University Press, 1990).

Fatyga, Barbara. Dzicy z naszej ulicy. Antropologia kultury m odzie owej. Warszawa: Uniwersytet Warszawski, Wydzia Stosowanych Nauk Spo ecznych i Resocjalizacji, 2005.

Chapter Twelve

158

Heller, Mikhail. Cogs In The Soviet Wheel: The Formation of Soviet Man, trans. by David Floyd. London: Collins Harvill, 1989.

Hundorova, Tamara. ‘Postcolonial Ressentiment — the Ukrainian Case’, Postcolonial Europe, (2009) http://www.postcolonial-europe.eu/pl/essays/76-postcolonial-ressentiment-the-ukrainian-case.html> [accessed 5 January 2015]

Kiley, Dan. The Peter Pan Syndrome: Men Who Have Never Grown Up. New York: Dodd Mead, 1983.

Kimmel, Michael. Guyland: The Perilous World Where Boys Become Men. New York: Harper, 2008.

K oskowska, Antonina. “Socjologia m odzie y: przegl d koncepcji,” Kultura i Spo ecze stwo, 2 (1987), No. 2, 25-6.

Ko akowski, Leszek. “Wypowied udzielona Malinie Malinowskiej-Wollen dla TVP w czasie trwania w Krakowie konferencji na temat posttotalitarnego intelektu i kultury,” Dekada literacka <http://dekadaliteracka.pl/index.php?id=1100> [accessed 5 January 2015].

Lindner, Robert M. Rebel Without A Cause: The Hypnoanalysis Of A Criminal Psychopath. New York: Grune and Stratton, 1944.

Loomba, Ania. Colonialism/Postcolonialism. New York: Routledge, 2005. Matusiak, Agnieszka. “Postkolonialna diisnist iak dzherelo strazhdan,”

Studia Sovietica, 2 (2011), p. 254-267. Medovoi, Leerom. Rebels: Youth and the Cold War Origins of Identity.

Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2005. Merton, Robert K. Social Theory and Social Structure. New York: Free

Press, 1968. Pilkington, Hilary. Russia’s Youth and its Culture. A nation’s constructors

and constructed. New York: Routledge, 1994. Soviet and Post-Soviet Identities, ed. by Mark Bassin and Catriona Kelly

(New York: Cambridge University Press, 2012). Zabuzhko, ksana. Khroniky vid Fortinbrasa. Kyiv: Fakt, 1999. Zhadan, Serhiy. Depeche Mode. Kharkiv: Folio, 2004.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

FATHERS AND CHILDREN IN THE PLAYS OF MIRO GAVRAN

ZDENKA ER

Introduction to the plays of Miro Gavran

The Gavran Theatre was established in 2002 in Zagreb by an artistic husband-and-wife couple – the playwright and novelist Miro Gavran1 and actress Mladena Gavran. The theatre was designed as a travelling theatre for staging monologues and performances with a limited number of actors, mainly comedies for two actors – male-female, male-only or female-only pairs – or for a trio of actors. The plays are prepared for adaptation to performance in non-traditional playing conditions. The plays of this theatre group are thus performed in the theatre spaces of urban centres, various indoor locations of local government premises, cultural spaces, educational institutions and, during the summer months, in open spaces in small towns and villages across Croatia, amongst emigrant Croatian communities and abroad. The Gavran Theatre gives about a hundred performances a year – of which thirty are played for the Zagreb audience in the small Vatroslav Lisinski Concert Hall, which seats about three hundred people.

For Miro Gavran, text and design are inseparable components of a theatrical whole – the play – and as a result the actors and the audience are at the centre of a vibrant theatrical art. Since verbal expression in dialogue or monologue is fundamental to drama, no matter whether it takes place between characters visible to viewers, invisible beings or apparitions, or between living and non-living beings, objects or machines – it is always a display of true verbal communication because it produces the most powerful impression of reality. A theatrical spectator has the impression that s/he participates in the communication that takes place here and now (Pavis 2004:54). Thus, by means of dialogue, the reception of a narrative text is translated from textual to sensory reality – dependent on the

Chapter Thirteen

160

situation or context which connects the writer, the text, and the third party in the communication – a reader, interpreter or viewer / listener. According to Bakhtin, the third in the dialogue causes misunderstanding, opening space for the unfinished, endless conversation which is man's duty (Biti 1997:55). The theatrologist Gordana Muzaferija in 2005 published a review study on Gavran’s dramatic works, symbolically titled Theatre Games of Miro Gavran. By the title of her work, the author wanted to emphasise the reversibility of Gavran’s dialogue communication, its plurality, openness, fluidity and playfulness. His thirty analysed plays are in a constant process of change, which is the reason why she links the sparkling diversity of Gavran’s dramatic works with the notion of game (Note: ‘game’ and ‘play’ are the same word in Croatian: ‘igra’). So as the flexible tissue of Gavran’s dialogue is divided and connected by myth, history, the present and the theatre / text in the game / play, so these are the titles of four separate and interdependent parts of the study. Despite the genre differences among Gavran’s texts, a characteristic intertwining of dramatic and comic elements is evident in them all, “so his serious plays include extensive comic relief, and the comedies exhibit dramatic emotional tension” (Muzaferija 2005:91). In the next part of her study Muzaferija establishes the first, dramatic phase in Gavran’s work, starting in the eighties and the second, mixed phase from the nineties onwards, using a graphical representation of the occurrence of his plays, with their chronology as the vertical axis. In the second phase, Gavran simultaneously writes serious drama, comedies, melodramas and grotesque plays, with a pronounced shift towards the comic genre dealing with the present. By exploring the scenic element of the dramatic situation and after deciding on the final form of the dialogue in new comedies – which Gavran established in collaboration with the actors during readings and regular rehearsals before the first performance –The Gavran Theatre has become a distinctive dramatic laboratory for the playwright. About the co-creative role of The Gavran Theatre in his writing-creating process, the Gavran has said:

Knowing very well the world history of drama and theatre, I long ago noticed that the best and most performed playwrights, from Shakespeare and Molière to Pirandello, Brecht, Lorca and contemporary American and French writers, have had their own theatre companies in which were played only their own dramas and comedies, which were often written specially for the actors they knew and who were members of their companies. This is, for any theatre writer, the best solution because in that

Fathers and Children in the Plays of Miro Gavran 161

way his theatre becomes his workshop where he completes his texts and where he can realise every single one of his ideas (Bori 2015:53).

Repertoire of The Gavran Theatre

A special feature of The Gavran Theatre repertoire is the annual premiere or first performance of a play by Miro Gavran. Since the foundation of the group in 2002 until 2015, thirteen titles of his have been performed. Although the most common are situation comedies and comedy sketches related to the topic of male-female relationships, which the author began to write more intensively and continuously in the nineties of the last century and which are analysed individually later in this paper, The Gavran Theatre also performs previously-produced dramas from the writer's first creative phase. To the present, these revivals comprise the fifteenth production of the tragedy Creon’s Antigone, in 2005, and the twentieth production of Night of the Gods in 2013. At the beginning of each season, the Theatre repertoire is planned. It mainly consists of five or six performances, the latest ones being predominant. Thus, in the annual repertory of the Theatre at least one of these classic Gavran’s plays is represented, while Hotel Babylon (2002) and The Craziest Show in the World (2009), both written for the actress, Mladena (Dervenkar) Gavran, are played continuously.

Fathers and Sons in the comedies of The Gavran Theatre

In contemporary literature the most common presentation of childhood, writes Pavli i , is

as a time of innocence, of paradise, of great inspiration and organic connection with the world, but ... as a time of ... quite specific foreboding, fear and suffering of a kind unfamiliar to adults. Both aspects, presumably, reveal much about the whole of human existence. It is not, however, certain that such a whole does exist in conditions that isolate childhood from the rest of life. For that reason, we sometimes resort to paradox and it is claimed that human life is complete only in childhood and that only from childhood premonitions can the meaning of all that comes after be deciphered. Or, as has effectively been said: the child is the father of the man. (Pavli i 2011:18).

Miro Gavran invites his audience to think about childhood, growing up, and parenting. He first broached this subject of exploring the relationships between people through their dialogue as a thirty-year-old, when in 1993

Chapter Thirteen

162

he published, and in 1994 produced, his grotesque comedy Dr Freud's Patient in the Zagreb Youth Theatre, and has continued with the topic more intensively in the comedies and serious drama later performed by The Gavran Theatre. Out of the theatre group's repertoire, only in the monologue Hotel Babylon and in two plays, Creon’s Antigone and Night of the Gods, are there no characters who are neither parents nor children. In the remaining nine comedies and the monologue The Craziest Show in the World from this repertoire, the theme of fatherhood is seen in three perspectives: in the first, a father and son or daughter are the dramatic characters portrayed; in the second, a father or mother and a son or daughter are frequent or occasional topics of conversation between characters whose parents or children they are; the third perspective updates the subject of fatherhood to the more topical issue of single parenting, in two plays produced but as yet unpublished. In the first, the comedy Ice Cream produced in 2014, the protagonist is a single mother, and in the other, the comedy Beer produced in 2015, it is the protagonist father who is a single parent. Along with the theme of childhood and growing up with only one parent, in this third perspective the focus is also on intergenerational patterns of behaviour that are represented chronologically but which at the same time refer intertextually to comments made by characters representing parents and children in earlier comedies. The author rounds out the topic of parenting by presenting the behaviour not only of biological fathers and mothers but also of stepfathers. Working from this latter perspective on fatherhood or parenthood, Gavran introduces children's characters, ranging from infancy to adulthood, for the first time in his adult work. Let us consider the specific relationships of father–child and mother–child and their intergenerational relations in each of the comedies in turn. The starting point for each analysis lies in Gavran's (un)published works, not in performances.

Father and son or daughter as dramatic characters

Dr Freud's Patient2

The plot of the grotesque comedy Dr Freud's Patient is divided into seven scenes, which take place in two areas – the office (five scenes) and the hotel room (two scenes). It is based on a possible but unconfirmed meeting in 1919 in Vienna, of the well-known and celebrated psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud, then aged sixty-three, and an anonymous painter of advertisement hoardings and postcards, a veteran of the First World War and a newly-recruited member of the German Workers Party, the thirty-


year-old Adolf Hitler (Muhoberac 2011:14). The comedy begins when Hitler visits Freud's office unannounced as a result of difficulties in establishing “sexual communication,” even “after seventeen attempts,” with his thirty-year-old girlfriend, the widow and piano teacher Christine. For this failure to achieve “sexual communication” Hitler blames Christine, presenting information about their relationship completely incompatible with her account. Freud puts Hitler into a state of hypnosis, taking him back to his childhood, first as a seven-year-old child, then as a seventeen-year-old and finally as a thirty-year-old man, confirming his impotence in the final statement. The comedy ends in symbolic and actual darkness onstage with the voices of sexual passion of a sixty-three-year-old Freud and thirty-year-old Christine.

The central scene is grotesque in its treatment of hypnosis as a psychoanalytical tool – analogous to the mode of theatre within theatre, which Gavran often uses. The hypnosis that Freud uses to enter the topos of Hitler's subconscious images allows the writer to present onstage the comically grotesque scenes of suppression from Hitler’s upbringing with the strict father and the dominant, but to him permissive, mother. In these dreamy scenes, Freud plays as many as three roles in relation to his patient – those of the father, the mother, and a friend – so that the patient can, as his partner in a game, reveal to Freud not only the suppressed causes of impotence, but also the beginning and development of the complex of higher value and aggressiveness (Muzaferija 2005:196). The effects of the strengthening and further development of this dangerous aggression within an individual, the world experienced at first hand through the destructive Nazi ideology and its consequences, not long after this fictional moment of an encounter between Freud and Hitler in 1919. This is how Gavran, in grotesque dramatic form, imbues harmless “childish” and “youthful” reactions with the power of speaking truths or putting questions that sometimes wait a very long time for their answers. All About Men3

The play All About Men is a fragmentary construction, made up of four different stories, each told in three or four continuous scenes, with a fifth story, called Old Men, consisting of only one scene. The first story, Friends, and the third, Strippers, have four scenes, while the second story, Father, and the fourth, Love, have three. Since the same characters – three friends, all lawyers – connect the first and fifth story, the fifth can be read as a continuation of the first one with a time lag of forty years; it can therefore serve either as a link between the previous stories or as a dramatic epilogue. Each story has three characters. The characters are defined by name and age. All three characters from the story Friends –

Chapter Thirteen

164

Ivo, Pavao and Zoki are forty years old. Mali, Rudi and Max, the characters of the story Strippers, and Leo, Denis and Robert in Love – are from thirty-five to forty-five years old. In the story Father, which is by its name and content directly related to the theme of this paper, sons Jan and Tomo are thirty years old, and the only character in the play without a proper name, Father, is sixty. An integral part of the play is Gavran’s Note for the director, where, in addition to suggestions on scene changes, the acting and the musical component, he specifies the use of three actors each of whom plays four seemingly different roles (Gavran-a 2015). The action takes place in a rhythmically organised stringing together of scenes that present four stories, using Gavran's usual type of dialogue by means of which the specific context of the narrative content is used to illuminate the mutual relationship of the characters. In the fourth part of the story Friends or in the eleventh scene of the play, three friends go their separate ways after twenty years of (un)friendship. After forty years – as men in their eighties who have remained in the same social stratum – they meet by chance in the garden of a retirement home and fail to recognise each other, in the final scene of the play, the fifteenth scene, in the fifth story Old Men. Strippers ends with the escape of three “professional” striptease entertainers of female audiences from the night bar where they work, while Love, in the course of three scenes, examines and consolidates friendship, trust, and love in the love-friendship triangle of a same-sex civil union. Also in three dialogue scenes, the story Father recounts the re-establishment of the family after ten years of lack of communication between the father and one of his two grown-up sons. The framework of the story is the father’s presentation of marital infidelity on the part of their mother. After ten years, he reveals the truth about the reasons and consequences of their sudden divorce.

Between the short speeches of the characters, in almost all stories, Gavran often puts Silence in the script, so we can talk about the dramaturgy of silence as the reverse of and preparation for speech. Gavran’s silences are systematically organised and even graduated, which reinforces their wordless eloquence (Pavis 2004:386). Silence written in the text contributes to establishing a rhythm that encourages acting, gesture and mime, so that the performance of All About Men is shaped as a comedy. About such practice Boris B. Hrovat writes,

This is why All About Men is not only a well-built boulevard comedy, where we laugh at absurdly elaborated images of ourselves, but is also the consistent expression of the writer's artistic beliefs and practices. It is undisputed that Gavran strives to convey a message to his audience, to teach them something – but he does so in a comfortable and indirect


manner, which allows that aspect to remain unnoticed if we are not pleased to notice it, reducing the reception of the comedy to the ostensible surface plane. In other words, Gavran’s mastery allows everyone to see, in that mirror image, what (and as much as) she or he wants (Hrovat, 2011).

Children of parents and parents of children

Laughing Prohibited4

The characters of the comedy Laughing Prohibited are husband and wife, both forty-eight years of age. Mia is a clerk in an insurance company and Boris is a travelling salesman. The third character is Boris' mistress, Nina, a psychologist, later a marriage counsellor, who is thirty-two. Mia and Boris have a son and a daughter – twenty-two-year-old Alida and Bojan, who is twenty; they are students. From the conversations between Mia and Boris, Nina and Boris and, eventually, Mia and Nina, we learn that it is due to Nina's special commitment to them that Alida and Bojan successfully finished their school career. As a school psychologist for troubled students, Nina regularly monitored first Alida and then Bojan and along with their father, Boris, who paid weekly visits to the school, facilitated the successful completion of the children's secondary education. So Boris and Nina have become and remained lovers until Nina grabs an opportunity to work as a psychologist in a marriage counselling centre. She breaks off her relationship with Boris and he, after a month of depression, wholeheartedly surrenders to the restoration and preservation of the family nest with Mia, who has in the meantime organised her free time around her friends and the hippodrome – with Pegasus the horse and its trainer. Alida and Bojan are successful in their studies, and have fun with their peers. At the time of their father's depression, which makes him seriously ill because he is constantly in the house, they resolve to provide him with palliative care for the final days of his life. Discovering that he is not ill at all, they try to become independent and move out of their parents’ home – which is achieved with the support of their grandparents from the mother's side who cover the cost of a rented apartment for them. An extremely complex situation is resolved by Mia and Nina; Mia first threatens to reveal Nina’s relationship with her husband to the children, but they then agree to a meeting of all three of them, Mia, Nina and Boris, in a museum. After Boris’ decision to continue living with Mia, Nina devotes herself entirely to marriage counselling and the young architect from a nearby office, while Mia amuses herself with Pegasus at the

Chapter Thirteen

166

hippodrome, waiting for the return of a sinful husband to the family nest, who is for the moment convalescing with his mother.

The comedy Laughing Prohibited (Gavran-b 2008) is divided into eight scenes according to the place of action. Together with its number in the order of performance and place of action, Gavran also lists the characters for every scene: Museum (Boris, Nina), Kitchen (Boris, Mia) Marriage counselling centre (Nina, Mia), Embankment / car (Nina, Boris), Kitchen (Boris, Mia), Street (Boris, Nina), Office (Nina, Mia), Museum (Nina, Boris). So lovers Boris and Nina meet in public places – in the museum, in the street, at the embankment or in a car parked along the embankment. Boris together with Nina goes on business trips – to Krško, Krapina, Zidani Most, Prelog, akovec, Brežice. His wife Mia, Boris encounters only in the kitchen, while Mia and Nina meet in Nina's office and counselling centre.

The alienation of the husband and wife, Mia and Boris, is confirmed in their monologues – directed only to the audience and spoken in line and facing front, in the communal area of their kitchen. The distance between Nina and Mia is expressed by Nina's monologue, spoken to the audience while (ostensibly) talking to Mia at the marriage counselling centre.

The comedy Laughing Forbidden in its published form ends with a note that in processing the characters and comic fable the writer was helped by suggestions of the director Zoran Muži and actors – Tomislav Marti , Mladena Gavran and Antonija Staniši who together made the play, which premiered in 2004 at The Gavran Theatre. Laughing Forbidden was written in 2002, improved after the first performance in 2004, and published in the book Unexpected Comedies by Miro Gavran, Zagreb, 2008 (Gavran 2008-b:64). Pandora's Little Box5 The characters of the comedy are fifty-year-old Buba, who works in a children's nursery, and her two sixty-year-old husbands – first husband Pero, a doorman at the Ministry of the Family, and second husband Toni, a stonemason who, being a member of the Parish Council, mostly makes altars for churches and gravestones. Buba and Pero have a daughter Tina, who went to catering school and is newly married to an American, Jim the Cook. The young couple lives in America. Buba and Toni have already been having a discreet affair for ten years, which Pero discovers by reading Buba’s diary in secret when she is on a two-week vacation at Tina and Jim’s in the United States. Buba from an early age has recorded all she has lived through the previous day or week, so they made an (marital) agreement at the beginning of their marriage that Buba could keep the memories of her youth in a special locked box. Opening that box, in


addition to various other little things, Pero finds a recent diary where Buba describes in detail her weekly, ten-year meetings with Toni. Since he does not like children and has his brother's sons for heirs, Toni has decided to lead a free single life without the bonds of obligation and meets only sad married women, neglected by their husbands. Pero sees in his divorce from Buba and her marriage with Toni the only solution for all three of them.

Reluctantly, Toni agrees after Pero threatens that if he refuses to marry Buba lawfully, the parish council will be made aware of his immoral behaviour. Buba’s diary and all her things Pero leaves to Toni, who, according to Pero's instructions, welcomes Buba with a bouquet of flowers at the airport on her return from America. After the first year of marriage between Buba and Toni, the same procedure is repeated, only in reverse. Since Tina has given birth to a little boy, the grandmother goes to America to see him, and Toni, in the two weeks of freedom and peace, looks for reasons for a divorce from his intolerable marriage to Buba. He finds reason in Buba’s box where he discovers her new diary entitled New life – the second marriage. He learns that she was happy with him just for the first month and a half of their marriage, and his name is mentioned only on the first pages. The remaining sixty pages are filled with feelings of regret for the first marriage and pleasant memories of Pero, their common concern for Tina, her marriage, and with delight with the grandson who takes after his grandpa. Now Pero with flowers greets Buba at the airport, and together they succeed in preventing their daughter from calling their grandson Tennessee but Petar, after his grandpa. Soon, they find employment for Jim and Tina at the seaside, in Trogir. The brother of an adviser at the Ministry where Pero works has a restaurant in Trogir; on behalf of his brother, the adviser is looking for a good chef and waitress for the summer. Buba and Pero plan weekends with their grandson to enable Tina and Jim to have some free time for themselves. There is special joy for both of them when Buba informs Pero that she has thrown the box, together with its keys, memories and diaries – their Pandora's box – from the bridge into the river Sava.

The writer divides the action into six scenes, of which the first, fifth and sixth are located in Pero’s living room, and the second and third in Tony's living room. The fourth scene is located in the shopping centre, where all three characters meet. Pero and Toni are the actors of the second and fifth scene, and Toni and Buba of the third. So the circular action of the comedy with its characters and place of action begins and ends in Pero’s living room, with Pero and Buba, e.g. with the first and sixth scene (Gavran-a 2012).

Chapter Thirteen

168

The vaudeville action of the comedy Pandora's Little Box, replete with references to the chaotic political, religious, homophobic, social scene of Croatia in transition, Gavran knowingly concentrates around the celebration of Buba’s three wedding anniversaries, the first two of which – the twenty-fifth anniversary with Pero and the first anniversary with Toni, are related to her journeying to America, while the celebration of the third anniversary that marks the beginning of her new start with Pero is not followed by a journey to America but by Tina, Jim and Peter’s trip from America that could mean a possible beginning for a young family living the American dream in Croatia.

In his critical review of the production, Kurelec summarises as a peculiarity of Gavran’s playwriting, particularly expressed in Pandora's Little Box, the fact that the play

entertains by fun twists and wit (and, as evidenced by the almost idyllic happy ending, it does not go into a deeper elaboration of male-female relationships) at the same time providing an opportunity for actors to parade their skills. (...) So in the foreground there remain valuable acting interpretations and the precise humour of the writer's script, Miro Gavran being today even on a global scale one of the most successful followers of the Feydeauian vaudeville tradition, which is a high achievement unfortunately much more appreciated abroad than by us (Kurelec 2010).

Step-father or father

In the monologue The Craziest Show in the World6 and the comedies Henpecked Husbands7, Cuckolds8, and The Doll,9 children are not directly involved in the action or their parents speak less about them. And so, in The Craziest Show in the World, twelve characters speaking in various idioms, mainly determined by their profession or occupation within the theatre, and played with “masterful acting transformations” (Muhoberac 2009) by Mladena Gavran, share their theatre, art, business, or general world-view. One of the characters is an actor, Vlaho Vojnovi , who justifies his well-paid involvement in television soap operas with the material needs of his family: the desire expressed for a new car, furniture, and the decoration of their second home in the country by his unemployed wife and a daughter who has been studying for twelve years at the Faculty of Philosophy, her father fearing “that she might continually repeat her studies for another twelve years before, out of compassion, they give her the certificate as a gift” (Gavran-b 2012:272). In the comedies Henpecked Husbands, Cuckolds, and The Doll, step-fathers are positive characters. According to Sanja Nik evi , the positivity of step-fathers may extend


so far that a comic effect is produced out of betrayed expectations. Žarkec in My Wife’s Husband (the first part of Cuckolds, Z. .) cares for the daughter his wife brought to their marriage so wholeheartedly (Matilda is the top of the class) and loves her so much that he does not want to divorce her mother in order to avoid harming the child” (Nik evi 2008:210).

In Henpecked Husbands (Gavran-c 2008), Ana and Ivo's son is on a specialist training course abroad thanks to Marko, Ana's second husband. During an unexpected meeting of Marko and Marija, who were in their youth in love with each other, Marko learns that he is the father of an adult daughter. This fact helps the biological parents and the children to get together again as families, Marko with Marija and their daughter, and Ivo with Ana and their son. In The Doll, a comedy of character with dramatic elements (Gavran-c 2012), the protagonists are thirty-nine-year-old Marko and an android-doll Stella. After a six-year relationship with Marija, at which point she leaves him because he does not want a child, Marko wins a prototype model of a doll programmed to serve a man, all of whose wishes and needs she is to meet and with whom he has to live for just six months. From his emotional ties with Marija, whom he loves, and from his sparkling, witty but emotionally neutral conversations with Stella, Marko's controversial childhood relationship with his father is revealed, as well as the trauma of abandonment he experienced after his father's untimely death and his own delay or refusal to assume responsibility for his own family. At Stella's instigation, he contacts Marija, learns of her pregnancy and marriage, and when she is left by her partner, Marko comforts her, ready to resume life with her and the child. In this comedy Gavran treats a significant thematic area of modern male-female relationships, parenting and fatherhood through ordinary, everyday situations, although approached from a completely new perspective – an android or artificial intelligence warning of the threat that the virtual world and relationships might replace “real human contacts” (Kurelec 2012).

A single mother and single father

In an interview with Diana Zalar about the role of the family (and literature for children) in the future, Miro Gavran holds that, given contemporary developments in society, the enormous temptations faced by the family of today and the problems they produce will increase in the future and become even more complex, and about all this “literature has to testify.” The fact that in Croatia every fourth marriage falls apart, so that many children live with only one parent, for Miro Gavran presents a

Chapter Thirteen

170

powerful theme for literature, which should not pass over or bypass any aspect of life (Zalar 2015:40) – hence the discussion of the increasing prevalence of single parenting that he initiated last year from the adult perspective at The Gavran Theatre with the comedy Ice Cream10 and continued this year with the comedy Beer, with the gender issue of parenting being extended and deepened by the theme of intergenerational relationships.

In Ice Cream, the mother of a female child is a single parent, and in Beer the single parent is the father of a male child. The characters in Ice Cream are a twenty-six year old Mother, who is a newly-qualified attorney, and a three-year old Daughter. Both of them face a new experience for the first time; when they enter a pastry shop at the beginning of the play, it is Mother’s first working day and Daughter’s first day at kindergarten, so before their first separation in life, spatial and metaphorical, they go to a neighbourhood pastry shop for their favourite ice cream. Their repeated visits to the pastry shop punctuate the action of the comedy, which follows the linked-separated life of Mother and Daughter divided into eight scenes and seven interludes. In these interludes, which take the form of advertising slots, the writer presents some little-known information about ice cream and coffee, and for some scenes the interlude on coffee and ice cream serves as the beginning of the conversation at a new meeting of Mother and Daughter. After their first visit to the pastry shop, the following visits take place when Mother is 30, 36, 44, 53, 60, 63, 73 and 83, and Daughter is 7, 13, 21, 30, 37, 40, 50 and 60. The topic of conversation especially in the first two scenes, is Mother's husband and Daughter's father, a civil engineer with a permanent job involving building sites abroad. In the first two scenes, the writer presents only some aspects of the trauma that results from the love of her parents being followed by their loss of love and divorce, from the position of their three-year-old and then seven-year-old Daughter. In the later scenes, the trauma is transformed into intense but calmer forms (states), till Daughter herself gives birth at the end of her journalism studies, when she announces her marriage to the “chief editor” of the newspaper she writes for, who has just divorced his wife with whom he has two children. The reasons for the later meetings of Mother and Daughter accompany the Daughter’s current problems: her husband's mistress, the lack of communication with her fifteen-year-old daughter, placing Mother in an old people's home, selling Mother's apartment and buying an apartment for herself and her family at the seaside. Since the father does not develop a continuous relationship with Daughter, he is mentioned only occasionally – for the last time when Mother and Daughter decide whether to go to his


funeral or not after her half-brothers report that he has died. During Mother’s ten-year stay in a retirement home, Daughter does not visit or call her regularly, while her grown-up children also visit their grandmother only occasionally. The reason for Mother and Daughter to meet again in a candy store is the television news item featuring the now eighty-three-year-old Mother when she wins the lottery. Thus Gavran mitigates Daughter’s lack of empathy for Mother and the intergenerational alienation of all three generations – Mother-Daughter-children/grandchildren – by using humour in the final, eighth scene. In Ice Cream, Mother’s single parenting is a consequence of her divorce from her partner and the father of their child, who has left the existing family to create another family and leave behind a hurt person. In that situation, a seven-year old Daughter witnesses the confusing behaviour of both parents. When, from her Mother, she finds out that Dad will not come back because there is some other woman, Daughter raises a number of questions that do not receive satisfactory answers – not from her Mother then, nor later when she finds herself in a similar situation. A father's single parenthood in the “almost comedy” Beer – as Gavran himself has described its genre – is the result of the death of the boy’s mother's two days after his birth, when the father concentrates on the completely independent upbringing of their child as a substitute for mourning his wife. The protagonists of Beer are the Father, a tennis coach, presented from the age of twenty-three to eighty-three years, and Son, from infancy to the age of sixty. The story, divided into eighteen scenes, follows their life together and then their separate lives directly and also, indirectly, follows the lives of their partners, friends, and the birth and upbringing of children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Each scene has a title and is dated – the first scene occurs in 1954, the eighteenth in 2014. The action of five-six scenes takes place on a tennis court and on a bench beside it, six-seven scenes take place in the family apartment, three in a cafe and one, the last scene, in the room of a retirement home. The action follows the subtle and emotional relationship of Father and Son over sixty years. It begins with the scene of a twenty-three-year-old single father soothing the two-month-old son in a pram and ends with Son, when sixty, trying to appease his depressive, eighty-three-year-old Father as he asks Father to prepare him for a 60-plus, veterans' tennis tournament. Mira Muhoberac has written that the comedy Beer presents

the common destiny of a parent and child, and in that destiny is presented a kind of documentary allegory of human life. (...) The almost film-frame sequencing and sequential segmentation of life, with seemingly simple but intelligently-written dialogue, allows the actors to make a successful

Chapter Thirteen

172

presentation of the passage of the whole “male” life cycle in one play, but also enables them to highlight their performance with humour and transformation (Muhoberac 2015).

Conclusion

This paper, Fathers and Children in Miro Gavran’s Plays shows the writer's immersion in the contemporary existential dilemmas of ordinary people in the modern world, pulled between desires and possibilities. The characters of his comedies pose questions of honesty and dishonesty in relationships between men and women, in emotional relations between partners – in marriage, outside marriage or in same-sex partnerships or friendships – in their lies, disputes, promises, reconciliations, and responsibilities as parents but also as children in the families of biological parents and in those with a step-father. Gavran thinks carefully, and understands each act of his characters. Thus he has created a diverse and distinctive range of dramatis personae who are not bad or of questionable character but have weaknesses and are undecided, confused, inconsistent in decision and action. His comedies record the consequences of unstable human weaknesses. The characters of Gavran’s comedies are middle-aged and older persons. They do not have existential problems because they have a job, they are responsible employees often in public institutions – the railway, school, theatre, prison, Ministry of the Family. These are teachers, educators, lawyers, doctors, actors, doormen, salesmen, craftsmen, fishermen, former sailors. Over the course of the action of the comedies analysed – as Gavran notes in the script, the children grow up, study (some of them extremely successfully) or work, liberating themselves in different ways – and so do their parents. The characters of young children in the most recent, unpublished comedies about single parenting Gavran involves directly in the action. So a three-year old and later seven-year old girl speaks from her perspective about her present and future life without a father in Ice Cream during a conversation with her mother in the familiar (to her) environment of the pastry shop. Growing up with only a father, without a mother or stepmother, in the comedy Beer, a ten-year old boy expresses himself in his homework on the subject of My Mom. By his comedies and especially by the repertoire of The Gavran Theatre, the playwright has eavesdropped on latent, hidden or repressed human weaknesses and presented an up-to-date mirror image of themselves to his contemporaries in space and time, an image which by the very fact of reflecting the audience within it is changed, sometimes repeating itself. The characters of Gavran’s comedy are the characters of his audience, whom Gavran addresses as co-creative participants in the


theatrical act. He invites each of them, in conversation with the theatre or theatrical dialogue, to mitigate and change the consequences of the latent weaknesses revealed in their personal lives.

Works Cited

Primary Sources

Gavran, Miro. Antigona (Creon’s Antigone). In Miro Gavran, Zato enici (Captives), RZ CDD SSOH, Zagreb i Studentski centar Sveu ilišta u Zagrebu, Zagreb, 1984, 5-36.

—. No bogova (Night of the Gods). In Miro Gavran, Razotkrivanja (Revelations), RZ RK SSOH, Zagreb, 1989, 67-97.

—. Muž moje žene (My Wife’s Husband). In Miro Gavran, Šaljivi komadi (Humourous Pieces), Hrvatski centar ITI, Zagreb, 1996, 7-44.

—. Povratak muža moje žene (The Return of my Wife’s Husband). In Miro Gavran, Šaljivi komadi (Humourous Pieces), Hrvatski centar ITI, Zagreb, 1996, 45-75.

—. Pacijent doktora Freuda (Dr Freud’s Patient). In Miro Gavran, Odabrane drame (Selected Plays), Mozaik knjiga, Zagreb, 2001, 197-226.

—. Hotel Babilon (Hotel Babilon). In Miro Gavran, Neo ekivane komedije (Unexpected Comedies), Mozaik knjiga, Zagreb, 2008, 65-91.

—. Zabranjeno smijanje (Laughing Forbidden). In Miro Gavran, Neo ekivane komedije (Unexpected Comedies), Mozaik knjiga, Zagreb, 2008, 7-64.

—. Papu ari (Henpecked Husbands). In Miro Gavran, Neo ekivane komedije (Unexpected Comedies), Mozaik knjiga, Zagreb, 2008, 93-178.

—. Sve o muškarcima (All About Men). In Miro Gavran, 5 komada (5 Pieces), Mozaik knjiga, Zagreb, 2008.

—. Pandorina kutijica (The Little Pandora’s Box). In Miro Gavran, Parovi i sli ne slabosti (Couples and Similar Weaknesses), Mozaik knjiga, Zagreb, 2012, p. 302-372.

—. Najlu a predstava na svijetu (The Craziest Show in the World). In Miro Gavran, Parovi i sli ne slabosti (Couples and Similar Weaknesses), Mozaik knjiga, Zagreb, 2012, 261-301.

—. Lutka (The Doll) In Miro Gavran, Parovi i sli ne slabosti (Couples and Similar Weaknesses), Mozaik knjiga, Zagreb, 2012, 114-183.

Prints of e-manuscripts of plays and comedies received from Miro Gavran

Chapter Thirteen

174

Gavran, Miro: Sladoled (Ice Cream), Zagreb, 2014 (unpublished). Print has 33 numbered pages and a cover with the author's full name and the play’s title. The second page contains the list of characters (personal archive of Z. er ).

—. Sve o muškarcima (All About Men), Zagreb, 2015 (published in: Miro Gavran, 5 komada, 2008. Note: The Zagreb City Library holdings keep only a protected copy of the above book, so a single-spaced copy of e-manuscripts by Miro Gavran was used for the purpose of this paper). The copy has 27 numbered pages with a cover without numbering. On the cover is the name and surname of the writer, the play’s title, the list of characters for each of the stories (5) and Notes for the director (personal archive of Z. er ).

—. Pivo (Beer), Zagreb, 2015 (unpublished) The copy has 37 numbered pages with a cover without numbering. On the cover is the name and surname of the writer, the play’s title, the list of characters, the date of the first performance of the play and the cast (personal archive of Z.

er ).

Secondary Sources

Books Biti, Vladimir. Pojmovnik suvremene književne teorije (Glossary of

Contemporary Literary Theory). Zagreb: Matica hrvatska, 1997. Gavran, Miro. Književnost i kazalište, eseji, razgovori, zapisi i nostalgi na

sje anja (Literature and theatre, essays, interviews, notes and nostalgic memories). Zagreb: Naklada Ljevak d. o. o., 2008.

Muzaferija, Gordana. Kazališne igre Mire Gavrana (Theatre Plays by Miro Gavran), Hrvatski centar ITI-UNESCO, Zagreb, 2005.

Nik evi , Sanja. Komi ni prizori iz bra noga života Tthe comic scenes of married life). In Miro Gavran-e, Književnost i kazalište, eseji, razgovori, zapisi i nostalgi na sje anja, Zagreb: Naklada Ljevak d. o. o., 2008, 183-215.

Pavis, Patrice. Pojmovnik teatra (Theatre Glossary), Akademija dramske umjetnosti, Zagreb, Centar za dramsku umjetnost, Zagreb, Izdanja Antibarbarus d. o. o., Zagreb, 2004.

Pavli i , Pavao. “Djetinjstvo u lirici [Childhood in Lyrics].” In Dani hvarskog kazališta. Gra a i rasprave o hrvatskoj književnosti i kazalištu, vol. 37 No. 1, 2011, 7-36 www.hr ak.hr

Zalar, Diana. “Što je zanimljivo u knjigama za djecu i mlade Mire Gavrana [What is interesting in the books for children and young


people by Miro Gavran?],” in: Književnost i dijete, asopis za dje ju književnost i književnost za mlade, Društvo hrvatskih književnika, Zagreb, IV./1, January-March 2015, 29-45.

Periodicals, manuals, websites Bori , Tamara. Kazalište kao životna strast obitelji Mire Gavrana

(Theatre as a Lifelong Passion of the Gavran Family), Nacional, Zagreb, 17. 2. 2015, 50-54.

B. Hrovat, Boris. Gavranovo majstorstvo (Gavran’s Mastery), Vijenac no. 331, Zagreb, 23. 11. 2006. www.matica.hr/vijenac.

Kurelec, Tomislav. Sjaj Feydeauova naslije a (Feydau’s Heritage Glow), Kulisa.eu, 7. 11. 2010. www.kazalište.hr.

—. Mehanizam koji pokre e (The Mechanism that Drives), Kazalište.hr, 17. 10. 2012. www.kazalište.hr.

Muhoberac, Mira. Kazališne spletke (Theatrical Intrigues), Vijenac no. 410, Zagreb, 19. 11. 2009. www.matica.hr/vijenac.

Muhoberac, Mira. “Trijumf Teatra Gavran [Triumph of the Gavran Theatre],” Vijenac no. 461, Zagreb, 3. 11. 2011. Muhoberac, Mira: Duhovita i tužna pri a (The Story Funny and Sad), Vijenac no. 549, Zagreb, 19. 3. 2015.

Hrvatska književna enciklopedija, I-IV, Leksikografski zavod Miroslav Krleža, Zagreb, 2010-2012, vol. I, Zagreb, 2010, 399.

Notes

1 Since completing his studies in Dramaturgy at the Academy of Dramatic Art in Zagreb, Miro Gavran (1961-) has worked as a dramatist and later director of the ITD Theatre in Zagreb and, since 1995, as an independent artist and writer, stimulating the creativity of young writers by leading creative writing workshops and publishing pioneering dramatic work by young artists in the magazine Tide, which he founded and, between 1993 and 1996, edited. His first work as a playwright, Creon’s Antigone, appeared in 1983 at the Gavella Theatre, which initiated a steady stream of new plays successfully produced in Croatia, in neighboring countries (the former Yugoslav states) and abroad: The Conspirators, Night of the Gods, George Washington’s Loves, Chekhov says good-bye to Tolstoy, Dr Freud's Patient. After the first performance, the following plays were published in such journals as Scena and Forum, and later in book form: Captives (1984), Revelations (1989), Humorous Pieces (1996), Selected Plays (2001), Three Comedies (2002), Unexpected Comedies (2008). Gavran has also written prose works, including novels for young people. His “Biblical trilogy” – the novels Judith, John the Baptist and Pontius Pilate – in which he reinterprets familiar Biblical stories, has drawn the attention of critics as well as a wider circle of

Chapter Thirteen

176

readers. (Croatian literary encyclopedia, vol. 1, Lexicographic Institute Miroslav Krleža, Zagreb, 2010, p. 582-583). 2 The grotesque comedy Dr. Freud’s Patient, written in 1993 premiered in 1994 at the Zagreb Youth Theatre, directed by the writer himself, Miro Gavran. It was performed in Slovenia in 1995 (Primorje Drama Theatre, Nova Gorica), Hungary 1997 (Hungarian National Theatre, Pécs, and Croatian Theatre in Pécs, Pécs), Serbia 2002 (Theatre ARGO, Sombor), Greece 2005 and 2006 (Tis Imeras Theatre, Athens, and Theatre Dithyramb, Athens), Czech Republic 2007 (Chamber Theatre, Prague), Bosnia-Herzegovina 2009 (City Theatre Jazavac, Banja Luka), Croatia 2011 (Gavran Theatre, Zagreb), and in 2013 in Kosovo (Professional Theatre Gnjilane, Gnjilane) (Gavran 2014: 208-233). 3 World premiere of the play All About Men was in Slovakia (Jan Palarik Theatre, Trnava) and Croatia (Gavran Theatre, Zagreb) in 2006. It was performed by another Slovakian theatre – State Theatre in Kosice – in the same year. It was also performed in Latvia and Poland in 2007 (Liepaja Theater, Liepaja and Theatre Nowy, Zabrze), Poland and the Czech Republic in 2008 (Ludowy Theatre, Krakow, and Theatre Studio two Prague), Slovakia in 2009 (Špisko theatre, Špiska Nova Ves), Russia and Poland in 2011 (Svobodnaya scena, Moscow, and the Monday Scene, Szczecin) and Latvia and Brazil (Michael Chekhov Theatre, Riga, and Teatro da livrario da vila, Sao Paolo). The play was published in the book by Miro Gavran, 5 Pieces, Mozaik knjiga, Zagreb, 2008 (Gavran 2014: 228-240). 4 Comedy Laughing Prohibited was premiered by the Gavran Theatre in Zagreb, 2004, and was published in the book by Miro Gavran, Unexpected Comedies, Zagreb, 2008. It was performed in Russia in 2010 (Production company of Anatoli Voropajev, Moscow), Czech Republic in 2012 (Brno Conservatory and the Theatre Znojmo Znojmo). In 2012, Croatian Radiotelevision – HRT Zagreb, made a television production of the play (Gavran 2014: 224-238). 5 2010 World and Croatian premiere of the comedy Pandora's Little Box: in Slovakia (Jan Palarik Theatre, Trnava) and Croatia (Gavran Theatre, Zagreb). Comedy was published in a book by Miro Gavran, Couples and Similar Weakness, Mozaik knjiga, Zagreb, 2012 (Gavran 2014:236-238). 6 The monologue The Craziest Show in the World was premiered by the Gavran Theatre, Zagreb, in 2009. It was published in book form in Gavran, M. Couples and Similar Weaknesses, Mozaik knjiga, Zagreb, 2012 (Gavran 2014: 234-238) 7 Henpecked Husbands was premiered by the Gavran Theatre, Zagreb, in 2007. It was published in book form in Miro Gavran Unexpected Comedies, Mozaik Knjiga, Zagreb, 2008. (Gavran 2014: 230-233) 8 Miro Gavran's comedy Cuckolds connects two previously performed comedies My Wife's Husband and The Return of My Wife’s Husband. The premiere was performed by the Gavran Theatre in 2008, and the Croatian Theatre from Pecs, Hungary, in 2010. The comedy My Wife's Husband has run since 1992 at My Theatre, Ljubljana, Slovenia, and The Return of My Wife’s Husband since 1996 at the Šibenik Theatre, Šibenik (Gavran 2008: 228-265). 9 The Doll was premiered by The Local Theatre Present, New York, USA, in 2012. Its Croatian premiere took place the same year at the Gavran Theatre, Zagreb. It was published in book form in Miro Gavran Couples and Similar Weaknesses,


Mozaik knjiga, Zagreb, 2012. It was performed in Slovakia in 2013 (Jan Palarik Theatre, Trnava) (Gavran 2014: 238-241) and in Slovenia in 2015 (co-produced by the Association Novi Zato and the City Theatre Ptuj, Ptuj).

10 Ice Cream was premiered by The Gavran Theatre in 2014, and Beer 2015. www.teatar-gavran.hr These comedies are unpublished. Handwritten copies of pre-premiere versions of the comedies received from Miro Gavran were used for this article. The copy of Ice Cream has 33 numbered pages, and of Beer 37 numbered pages. Copies of both comedies are part of the personal archive of Z. er .

SECTION III

ON-SCREEN DADS: FATHERHOOD IN FILMS

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“WE’RE HIS GODDAMN KIDS, TOO”: REFLECTING FATHERHOOD

IN PUBLIC RESPONSES TO THE DEATH OF ROBIN WILLIAMS

KATIE BARNETT

He always reminded me a little of my father. (Wilson 2014) Robin Williams died aged 63 on August 11th, 2014, having committed suicide at his home in California. News of his death was immediately and widely reported across the media, with many fans and commentators expressing understandable shock in print, on screen, and particularly online. Alongside this shock, a sense of grief was also palpable in many of the immediate reactions to Williams’ death. Much of this public grief took the form of casting Williams as an integral part of a generation’s childhood; particularly for those who grew up with his most commercially successful films in the 1990s, there was a notable trend of lamenting the loss of Williams as akin to losing a father figure. This article will examine both the construction of Williams as a paternal figure in Hollywood, and the way this informed subsequent reactions to his death. In the immediate aftermath, these reactions were encapsulated within mainstream news broadcasts and across social media, most prominently Twitter, which allows users to react in real-time to news events. Radford and Bloch note that “[i]n the era of social media, fan grieving often explodes in the online sphere.” (Radford and Bloch 2012, 138). This can be seen in responses to Williams’ death, where fans began to share memories, images and, most prominently, quotes from a variety of his films, in what amounted to an online memoriam for the late star.

As an actor, Williams has been well-known to mainstream audiences in the United States and beyond since the late 1970s, when he starred as the alien Mork in the popular television series Mork and Mindy (ABC,

Reflecting Fatherhood in Responses to the Death of Robin Williams 181

1978-1982). Prior to this, his work as a comedian on the comedy circuits of Los Angeles and San Francisco had established him as part of the stand-up renaissance of the mid-1970s; his public profile only increased as his film career took off in the 1980s. Williams’ commercial success as a film actor was solidified in the 1990s, when he appeared in a string of family films, including Hook (Spielberg, 1991), Toys (Levinson, 1992), Aladdin (Clements/Musker, 1992), Mrs. Doubtfire (Columbus, 1993), Jumanji (Johnston, 1995), Jack (Coppola, 1996), Flubber (Mayfield, 1997) and Patch Adams (Shadyac, 1998), as well as the drama Good Will Hunting (Van Sant, 1997), for which Williams won the Best Supporting Actor Oscar in 1998. It was during this decade that not only Williams’ public profile, but a particular star persona, were at their height. It is this star image, and the way that it intersects with reactions to his unexpected death, that will be discussed here.

Williams’ star image is not a straightforward thing to define; rather, it allows for a variety of contradictions and transformations over the course of his career. In part, this is because of the gulf between his adult stand-up comedy and the family-friendly roles he became best-known for on the cinema screen. His stand-up routines make frequent reference to sex, pornography, and his addictions to cocaine and alcohol; the bad language, obscene gestures and willingness to address controversial topics (from politics to terrorism to religion) are a far cry from many of Williams’ goofy, PG-rated on-screen roles, albeit delivered in the same manic, absurdist way that became his trademark. Equally, in the 2000s, Williams appears to make a conscious move towards grittier and darker roles in film, including Death to Smoochy (DeVito, 2002), Insomnia (Nolan, 2002), One Hour Photo (Romanek, 2002) and The Night Listener (Stettner, 2006). These films earn him renewed critical acclaim, yet fracture his well-established cinematic star image in the process. Williams’ star persona, then, is not without ambiguity. Yet I wish to argue that it is a persona that is consistently structured around themes of fatherhood, an image that owes much to that period of commercial Hollywood fare that established Williams as a bankable big screen star in the 1990s.

The roots of this father-image can be traced back to Williams’ performance in Dead Poets Society (Weir, 1989). Coming two years after the release of Williams’ breakout success in Good Morning Vietnam (Levinson, 1987), the film retains his capacity for verbal comedy—not least in his talent for quick-fire impressions—while settling him into a more paternal role than those he had occupied previously. Williams plays the young, idealistic teacher John Keating, who urges the boys at his elite prep school to “make their lives extraordinary.” Encouraging the young

Chapter Fourteen

182

men under his tutelage to look beyond their rote-taught education, Keating introduces them to poetry, art and rebellion, earning their adulation in the process. Although Williams is not cast as a biological father in the film, he does forge a surrogate paternal relationship with a small group of students. These students re-form the eponymous Dead Poets Society, Keating’s club from his own days at the school. In doing so, a generational link is forged between Keating and the young men, reminiscent of a son following in his father’s footsteps.

Dead Poets Society is an interesting example because, for all Keating’s well-meaning paternal advice, he is eventually cast out of the school after the suicide of Neil (Robert Sean Leonard). His status as surrogate father figure is disrupted at the point that another father loses his son. On Keating’s advice, Neil has pursued his passion for theatre against his father’s wishes, and on earning his father’s scathing disapproval after the opening night performance, Neil takes his father’s gun and shoots himself. There is a dichotomy here between two very distinct performances of fatherhood. On the one hand, the autocratic fatherhood of Neil’s father (Kurtwood Smith), whose response to Neil’s desire to act is to enrol him in military school; on the other, the benevolent, encouraging fatherhood of Keating, who urges his students to “seize the day” and be true to themselves. Nor is Neil’s father portrayed as an anomaly; Todd (Ethan Hawke), too, suffers a different kind of paternal disappointment when he finds his parents have sent him the same desk set two birthdays in a row. “Maybe they thought you needed another one,” Neil offers, to which Todd laments, “maybe they weren’t thinking about anything at all.” The audience is left in no doubt that it is Keating’s brand of optimistic, emotionally-engaged fatherhood that should be championed—indeed, is championed by the boys who take to their desks when Keating is escorted from the school, saluting him with Walt Whitman’s words: “O Captain, My Captain!” Keating’s surrogate fatherhood is ultimately flawed, marred by his inability to save Neil from his own father, yet the film absolves Keating in these final, poignant scenes. It is the establishment—and the fathers it produces—that fails its young men. Williams becomes the face of the father that could be. Dead Poets Society marks the beginning of the construction of Williams’ paternal star persona, and simultaneously introduces a persistent theme within this paternal construction—a fatherhood that is imperfect but ultimately redeeming (Barnett 2016, 19-34).

This paternal star image continued to develop through the 1990s, a period in which Williams became one of the most bankable Hollywood actors of the decade. Williams channels his comic abilities into a host of


box office hits targeting the family film market, a market made more lucrative by booming home video sales. In these films, fatherhood becomes a defining characteristic of Williams’ roles. This fatherhood is sometimes biological; for example, his role in Hook, in which he plays Peter, a distant, workaholic father who has no time for his children. The film hinges on the premise that Peter Pan—the boy who never grew up—is latterly a man who has forgotten how to be a child, and thus is emotionally estranged from his son and daughter. Hook is rooted firmly in a wider trend of fatherhood films of this period: the father who must be reminded that family, not work, is the key to his own happiness.1

Often, however, Williams returns to the role of the surrogate father figure. In Aladdin, Williams lends his voice to the Genie, the film’s iconic comic character. The Genie acts as Aladdin’s guide and mentor: not always without mischief, certainly, but ultimately with Aladdin’s best interests at heart. Early in the film, he elicits a promise from Aladdin that his final wish will be to set the Genie free, but later relinquishes this desire in order to secure Aladdin’s future happiness in an act of paternal sacrifice.

The role that earned Williams his Academy Award—as psychologist Sean Maguire in Good Will Hunting—again sees him in a mentor role, guiding a younger man (Matt Damon) through a troubled period in his life. When the two men discuss Will’s physical abuse at the hands of his foster father, Maguire’s response is inflected with a paternal note: “It’s not your fault. Look at me son. It’s not your fault.” The scene ends with Will crying and embracing Maguire. Once again, Williams’ character emerges as the good father who, despite his own flaws, is able to offer a sense of protection and, in Will’s case, relief.

Williams’ on-screen fatherhood, then, appears in various guises: some comic, some dramatic; some biological, some surrogate; some conventional, some less so. Neither does Williams portray the type of authoritative, patriarchal fatherhood of Hollywood’s past (Bruzzi 2005, 38). Furthermore, it must be noted that the fatherhood on display in those films outlined above is conspicuous, rather than incidental. Particularly in Hook, Mrs. Doubtfire, The Birdcage (Nichols, 1996) and Father’s Day (Reitman, 1997), Williams’ status as a father is a crucial aspect of the plot. And these fathers, in all their various manifestations, are flawed in some way. They are often (if temporarily) prevented from executing their paternal role by circumstance, whether this be the pressures of the profit-driven workplace that takes them away from their family, the consequences of divorce and familial upheaval, or the absence of biological certainties. This is significant because Williams’ fathers reflect a desire for a present, understanding,

Chapter Fourteen

184

strong father figure, whilst also acknowledging the limitations of, and anxieties surrounding, the performance of fatherhood in the 1990s.

What is reinforced is the particular brand of on-screen fatherhood that is constructed around Williams: fathers who are never perfect, but who are generally well-meaning, committed men. His films adhere to the notion that it is in fatherhood (again and again) that redemption can be found (Aronson and Kimmel 2001, 43-50). Robin Wood (2003) discusses the “Restoration of the Father” in 1980s Hollywood, and the way in which this “ideological project” worked to restore paternal authority and importance on screen, following the perceived destabilising effects of feminism and women’s liberation, against a backdrop of post-Vietnam uncertainty (154). A decade later, Williams’ own on-screen fathers seem to acknowledge that a complete restoration is not always possible, but that the man—as father—can nevertheless be redeemed and find meaning within fatherhood.

This must be viewed within the wider cultural context, both in terms of masculinity and of fatherhood specifically. The 1990s marks another well-documented and well-theorised cycle of the crisis of masculinity in the United States, and it also marks a period in which fatherhood—its definition, its roles, its execution—came under intense scrutiny from sociologists, politicians, academics and psychologists alike. These preoccupations with fatherless families, custody rights, the impact of paternal disappointment and changing perceptions of fathers’ roles reflect the uncertainties of fatherhood, alongside a desire to reinstate its importance.2 Fatherhood was a source of considerable debate in the build-up to the millennium, and what this debate ultimately revealed was the unstable foundations of fatherhood in a post-feminist, post-capitalist world. Williams’ performance of fatherhood captures some of this cultural uncertainty. However, it also reinforces the ultimate power of fatherhood as a source of masculine redemption. For all its zany, comic elements, his performance of fatherhood is ultimately sincere.

It is perhaps no surprise, therefore, that this paternal persona cultivated by Williams throughout the 1990s informs the public reaction that greeted the news of his death. The public responses discussed below focus on posts from Twitter users in the immediate aftermath of the announcement. The growth of social media has allowed for unprecedented opportunities for fans to come together to share in their interests and connect with other individuals (Jenkins, Ford, and Green 2013). The death of a celebrity instigates a spike in internet activity “as fans seek to share their grief with others who will truly understand their feeling and provide a level of support that may not be available from family or friends” (Radford and Bloch 142) As an open, public forum, Twitter allows for fans and


audiences to contribute to the online ‘conversation’ when a celebrity dies. Gibson suggests that such deaths often result in temporary “communities of mourning” being established (Gibson 2007, 1). While Gibson’s focus is on physical pilgrimage, the same community can be witnessed online. Although the Twitter responses to Williams’ death were often individual statements, rather than interactive conversations, the use of various hashtags within these posts suggest a desire to engage with, and be a part of, a wider “[community] of mourning.”3

Radford and Bloch discuss the process of “introjection” following a significant death, and the way in which “[p]ositive memories are reinforced while negative memories are discounted” (Radford and Bloch 147). Accordingly, amidst the general sense of mourning, online posts tended overwhelmingly towards positive recollections of Williams. In particular, public remembrance of Williams persistently centred on the notion that he had been a significant feature of many people’s childhoods, as the posts below show.4

I can’t handle this today. I will forever remember this moment as losing my childhood. Robin Williams was my hero and idol growing up. RIP.5

I feel like a piece of my childhood died today. RIP #RobinWilliams6

I'm saddened to hear of his passing. He was a huge part of my childhood. May you rest in peace #RobinWilliams7 Numerous other users echoed these sentiments, with one commenting

that “I had a good childhood because of you, thank you,”8 while another stated simply that “My childhood is crumbling.”9 The actress Emmy Rossum wrote that “Robin Williams was a light in my childhood,” echoing the tone of the outpouring of sentiment, which persistently rested on Williams as someone who had positively impacted on the young lives of his audience.10

In remembrance, then, many commenters placed themselves in the position of a child for whom Williams had been an adult to look up to and admire, and whose presence had left a mark on their formative years. Some Twitter users took this paternal intimation and made it explicit:

Such a sad [sic] with the news of #RobinWilliams. Growing up I thought he & my father were one of the same. It feels like losing family.11

I feel like I've lost my father...like someone I genuinely loved...this one is too much universe. fuck you. #RobinWilliams12

Chapter Fourteen

186

Others reflected on Williams’ status as their “movie dad”.13 “I know how this sounds - but this guy was like a 'dad' to me...” another commented,14 a sentiment echoed by the following user:

RIP #RobinWilliams Thank u 4 being the dad I always wanted in my mind & raising me through your comedy & acting roles throughout my life.15 One of the most widespread images shared in the aftermath of

Williams’ death was a still from Aladdin, in which the Genie and Aladdin embrace. Originally tweeted by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, and subsequently retweeted over 330,000 times by other users, the image was captioned with the words “Genie, you’re free.”16 Labelled “the iconic social media image of Williams’ death” by The Washington Post, the image attracted some criticism from mental health organisations, including the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, for its perceived romanticising of mental health issues, particularly in light of Williams’ own struggles with depression (Dewey 2014). The spirit of the Academy’s tweet, however, appeared to resonate on another level, with fans keen to share a touching image. In light of the paternal tone to much of this online remembrance, this image may also be read as a goodbye between father (Genie) and son (Aladdin). The Genie, like a father, ushers Aladdin from boyhood to manhood. The goodbye in this image, then, is particularly poignant for the fact that the same ‘children’ who remember Aladdin were now the adults saying goodbye to Williams.

In the United Kingdom, on the morning following his death, references to Williams occupied all of the top ‘trending topics’ on Twitter, from “RIP Robin Williams” to the names of a number of his films. Also included on the list was the phrase “O Captain”, echoing the famous line from Dead Poets Society and indicating that, of all Williams’ eminently quotable lines, it was the one that immortalised him as the beloved ‘Captain’ of his class of young men that fans chose to share most frequently.

Another widely shared quote further reveals a paternal aspect to the collective mourning taking place online:

We’re His God Damn Kids Too.17

The line is taken from a scene in Mrs. Doubtfire, in which youngest

daughter Nattie (Mara Wilson) reacts to her mother’s attempts to collect them early from their father’s new home. Echoing Daniel’s earlier outburst—“You’re my goddamn kids too!”—Nattie’s defiant statement became the refrain of Twitter as users came to terms with the news of Williams’ death. The sharing of this particular quote sums up the feeling


of communal loss, and elevates Williams from being simply another deceased actor, to one who had a demonstrably lasting impact on the childhoods of his audience. As such, this impact colours the same audience’s reactions, as it reverts to casting Williams as a cinematic father figure. The actress Hilary Duff tweeted a message that ended with, “we love you robin! We love you mrs doubtfire!!” [sic], and the equation of Williams with the eponymous nanny played in Mrs. Doubtfire was reflected in numerous fans’ recollections.18 In Mrs. Doubtfire, Williams portrays a man who will fight relentlessly for his children; access to them, is as fundamental to him as breathing. While the broader themes of Mrs. Doubtfire were recognisable to 1990s’ audiences—divorce, family separation, and the negotiations required by both—it lies in contrast with many similar films by virtue of the father’s stance. Whereas the default position in many of these ‘divorced father’ family films, such as Hook and the box office hits The Santa Clause (1994) and Liar Liar (1997), is one of apathy or awkwardness, Williams brought to the screen a father who lamented the loss of daily contact with his children, and actively sought to maintain this. In an era when divorce rates remained high in the United States, this portrayal may have been particularly significant to a young audience at the time.

Beyond the audience reactions to Williams’ death, his own fatherhood also formed part of the wider media reaction. Williams had three children, and the family (including his ex-wife and mother of two of his children, Martha Garces Williams, as well as his current wife) released joint and individual statements after his death remembering him as a husband and father. His daughter, Zelda, released a statement in which she referred to the feeling of sharing Williams with his audience:

My family has always been private about our time spent together. It was our way of keeping one thing that was ours, with a man we shared with an entire world. […] While I’ll never, ever understand how he could be loved so deeply and not find it in his heart to stay, there’s minor comfort in knowing our grief and loss, in some small way, is shared with millions. (Yahr 2014) In 2011, Williams and Zelda appeared together in a series of

advertisements for Nintendo, promoting the release of The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time 3D, featuring the heroine for which Williams’ daughter was named. These advertisements played on the paternal elements of Williams’ star image, as well as his documented passion for video games. Audiences who were used to seeing him play the fun-loving, comical father on the big screen now saw him replicating this role in ‘real

Chapter Fourteen

188

life’ with his actual daughter. The same awe that Williams’ characters reserve for fatherhood in Mrs. Doubtfire and Father’s Day is recalled in his exchange with Zelda:

Zelda: Dad? Are you mixing me up with the princess again? Robin: Hard to say. You’re both pretty magical. The statements released by Zelda Williams and her brothers, Cody and

Zak Williams, were a signifier of Williams’ real-life fatherhood. They also served as a reminder that away from the online “communities of mourning,” his own children were dealing with the grief of losing a parent. However, an interesting addition to the public displays of paternal-inflected mourning were the responses from two of Williams’ on-screen children, Mara Wilson and Lisa Jakub. Wilson and Jakub, both of whom have since retired from acting, played Nattie and Lydia in Mrs. Doubtfire. Within a week of Williams’ death, both had written publicly about their own reactions to the news.

In a post published on her own website shortly after the news broke, Jakub focused on a particular anecdote that centred on her expulsion from high school due to the time she had spent on location filming Mrs. Doubtfire, whilst aged 14. Williams wrote a letter to the school asking them to reconsider their decision; though ultimately unsuccessful, his actions had a lasting impact on Jakub: “Robin stood up for me. He was in my corner.” Jakub goes on to comment that “I always assumed there would be some future opportunity to tell him that his letter changed my life” (Jakub 2014).

Wilson’s first public statement about Williams, published on her own blog three days after his death, described the loss as being “as if my favorite teacher died” (Wilson 2014a). A few days later, she published a longer statement, in which she suggested that Williams had reminded her a little of her own father. Having worked with him at a young age—Wilson was five when filming Mrs. Doubtfire—she recalls his constant attempts to entertain and put at ease the children on set. Referring to the numerous people who had shared their grief with her, Wilson notes that many of these people were those who had seen Williams’ films as children. “If you can affect someone when they’re young, you are in their heart forever. It is remarkable how many lives Robin touched, and how many people said, just as I had, that he reminded them of their fathers,” she states, before ending her post with reference to her famous line from Mrs. Doubtfire: “I suppose — could I really end this any other way? — we’re all his goddamn kids, too” (Wilson 2014b).


These public reactions only served to highlight Williams’ parallel construction as cinematic father, particularly through the prism of his performance in Mrs. Doubtfire, arguably the pinnacle of his ‘good enough’ fatherhood and the most enduring image of his paternal star persona.

Jakub and Wilson, in reflecting their memories of Williams through this paternal prism, mirror the wider public reaction to his death: one of the loss of a kind of father figure. Writing in the Washington Post after his death, Alyssa Rosenberg suggests that Williams was a significant influence on a generation (or more) of young audiences. In discussing the breadth of roles Williams occupied during the course of his film career, Rosenberg highlights a unifying theme of compromise and fallibility—“Williams was the actor that taught me that adults were not invincible”—and notes that in doing so, Williams “helped us grow up” (Rosenberg 2014). This achievement owes much to the range of father-like roles he occupied on-screen. Immediately after his death, The Sydney Morning Herald opened a public poll, asking people to vote for their favourite of his films: the joint winners were Dead Poets’ Society and Mrs. Doubtfire, accounting for 40% of all votes cast (Maddox 2014). The memory of him, in the immediate aftermath of his death, coalesces around these two roles, and the paternal optimism that unites them. The death of Williams, then, can be read as the loss of a father figure; it can also be seen as the loss of a particular brand of fatherhood, pioneered by Williams on-screen during the 1990s: the flawed-but-ultimately-good-enough domestic dad who sought, often through unconventional means, to be the best father he could be. It is this, as much as the actor himself, that audiences appear to be mourning in the aftermath of his death.

Works Cited

Aronson, Amy and Michael Kimmel. “The Saviors and the Saved: Masculine Redemption in Contemporary Films.” In Masculinity: Bodies, Movies, Culture, edited by Peter Lehman, 43-50. London: Routledge, 2001.

Barnett, Katie. “‘Any closer, and you’d be mom’: The Limits of Postfeminist Paternity in the Films of Robin Williams.” In Images of American Masculinity in the Age of Postfeminism, edited by Elizabeth Abele and John Gronbeck-Tedesco, 19-34. Lanham: Lexington, 2016.

Baskerville, Stephen. “Is There Really a Fatherhood Crisis?” The Independent Review 8:4 (2004), 485-508.

Blankenhorn, David. Fatherless America: Confronting Our Most Urgent Social Problem. New York: Harper Perennial, 1996.

Chapter Fourteen

190

Bruzzi, Stella. Bringing Up Daddy: Fatherhood and Masculinity in Post-War Hollywood. London: BFI, 2005.

Dewey, Caitlin. “Suicide contagion and social media: The dangers of sharing ‘Genie, you’re free’.” The Washington Post, Aug. 12, 2014. Accessed Feb. 10, 2016:https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/the-intersect/wp/2014/08/12/suicide-contagion-and-social-media-the-dangers-of-sharing-genie-youre-free/

Faludi, Susan. Stiffed. London: Chatto & Windus, 1999. Gibson, Margaret. “Some thoughts on celebrity deaths: Steve Irwin and

the issue of public mourning.” Mortality 12:1 (2007), 1-3. Jakub, Lisa. “Farewell to Robin Williams: A Thank You Note.” Aug. 11,

2014. Accessed Feb. 10, 2016: http://lisajakub.net/2014/08/11/farewell-to-robin-williams-a-thank-you-note/

Jenkins, Henry, Sam Ford and Joshua Green. Spreadable Media: Creating Value and Meaning in a Networked Culture. New York: New York University Press, 2013.

Mack, Dana. Assault on Parenthood: How Our Culture Undermines Parenthood. San Francisco: Encounter, 1997.

Maddox, Garry. “Robin Williams’ Greatest Movie Roles.” The Sydney Morning Herald, Aug. 12, 2014. Accessed Feb. 10, 2016: http://www.smh.com.au/entertainment/movies/robin-williams-greatest-movie-roles-20140812-1031a8.html

Popenoe, David. Life Without Father. New York: Free Press, 1996. Radford, Scott and Peter Bloch. “Grief, Commiseration, and Consumption

Following the Death of a Celebrity.” Journal of Consumer Culture 12:2 (2012), 137-155.

Rosenberg, Alyssa. “How Robin Williams Helped Us Grow Up.” The Washington Post, Aug. 11, 2014. Accessed Feb. 10, 2016: https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/act-four/wp/2014/08/11/how-robin-williams-helped-us-grow-up/

Wilson, Mara. “Quick Update Regarding Robin Williams.” Aug. 14, 2014. Accessed Feb. 10, 2016: http://marawilsonwritesstuff.com/update-robin/

—. “Remembering Robin.” Aug. 18, 2014. Accessed Feb. 10, 2016: http://marawilsonwritesstuff.com/remembering-robin/

Wood, Robin. Hollywood From Vietnam to Reagan… and Beyond. New York: Columbia University Press, 2003.

Yahr, Emily. “Robin Williams’s kids, former wife release heartbreaking statements.” The Washington Post. Aug. 12, 2014. Accessed Feb. 10, 2016:


https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/arts-and-entertainment/wp/2014/08/12/robin-williamss-kids-former-wife-release-heartbreaking-statements/

Notes

1 For example, The Santa Clause (Pasquin, 1994), Liar Liar (Shadyac, 1997), Jack Frost (Miller, 1998). 2 See David Blankenhorn, Fatherless America: Confronting Our Most Urgent Social Problem (New York: Harper Perennial, 1996); David Popenoe, Life Without Father (New York: Free Press, 1996); Dana Mack, Assault on Parenthood: How Our Culture Undermines Parenthood (San Francisco: Encounter, 1997); Stephen Baskerville, “Is There Really a Fatherhood Crisis?” The Independent Review 8:4 (2004), 485-508; Susan Faludi, Stiffed (London: Chatto & Windus, 1999). 3 Popular hashtags included #RIPRobinWilliams, #RIPRobin, and #RobinWilliams. 4 AdWeek reports that in 2015, just under half of all Twitter users in the United States are aged between 18 and 34. As such, a significant number of Twitter users would have been children in the 1990s, when Williams made the majority of his family-oriented films. 5 @Sarah_Hyland, Aug. 12, 2014, tweet. Accessed Feb. 10, 2016: https://twitter.com/sarah_hyland/status/498974504207400960 6 @brimarie88, Aug. 12, 2014, tweet. Accessed Feb. 10, 2016: https://twitter.com/brimarie88/status/498979873239883776 7 @sinmolyeo, Aug. 13, 2014, tweet. Accessed Feb. 10, 2016: https://twitter.com/sinmolyeo/status/499344478956568576 8 @Itzel_OrtizA, Aug. 13, 2014, tweet. Accessed Feb. 10, 2016: https://twitter.com/Itzel_OrtizA/status/499336672392519680 9 @CaroleFlateau, Aug. 13, 2014, tweet. Accessed Feb. 10, 2016: https://twitter.com/CaroleFlateau/status/499337478239948800 10 @emmyrossum, Aug. 12, 2014, tweet. Accessed Feb. 10, 2016: https://twitter.com/emmyrossum/status/498976090820321280 11 @MansomeMatt, Aug. 12, 2014, tweet. Accessed Feb. 10, 2016: https://twitter.com/MansomeMatt/status/498979284342820864 12 @il_y_sm, Aug. 12, 2014, tweet. Accessed Feb. 10, 2016: https://twitter.com/il_y_sm/status/498969411479670784 13 @lmariethomas, Aug. 12, 2014, tweet. Accessed Feb. 10, 2016: https://twitter.com/lmariethomas/status/498976328985882624 14 @LilSouthernChic, Aug. 12, 2014, tweet. Accessed Feb. 10, 2016: https://twitter.com/LilSouthernChic/status/498973981790461952 15 @JRoxannWright, Aug. 12, 2014, tweet. Accessed Feb. 10, 2016: https://twitter.com/JRoxannWright/status/498976104091103232 16 @TheAcademy, Aug. 11. 2014, tweet. Accessed Feb. 10, 2016: https://twitter.com/TheAcademy/statuses/498996314395246593

Chapter Fourteen

192

17 @rjmcculloch, Aug. 12, 2014, tweet. Accessed Feb. 10, 2016: https://twitter.com/rjmcculloch/status/498975194627969024 18 @HilaryDuff, Aug. 11, 2014, tweet. Accessed Feb. 10, 2016: https://twitter.com/HilaryDuff/status/498975284305997825

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

MASCULINITY AND FATHERHOOD IN ANG LEE’S PUSHING HANDS1

YUMIN ZHANG Ang Lee frequently portrays men in parental roles. His first three films, Pushing Hands, The Wedding Banquet, and Eat Drink Men Women all engage with issues of fatherhood and are known as a sort of “Father Trilogy.” Pushing Hands was Lee’s first film, directed in 1992. It tells a story of a traditional Chinese father whose masculine identity is trapped in great changes in American society. A retired Chinese Tai Chi master Mr. Chu (Sihung Lung) emigrates from Beijing to live with his son Alex (Bo Z. Wang), his American daughter-in-law Martha (Deb Snyder), and grandson Jeremy (Haan Lee) in New York. The cultural differences cause misunderstandings and emotional conflicts among all of the family members. Mr. Chu feels humiliated and leaves home. He perceives that he and Mrs. Chang (Wang Lai), who is also from Beijing, are being set up by their children in a matchmaking attempt to be absolved from filial responsibilities. Being offended by the ruthless Chinese boss as a dishwasher in a restaurant, Mr. Chu finally shows his great power in Tai Chi for self-defense: he stands firmly on the ground and employs the forces of the gangsters to yield them. Following his arrest, Mr. Chu’s reputation as a Tai Chi master spreads and he eventually teaches Tai Chi to both Chinese and American residents in Chinatown. The film ends with Mr. Chu’s accidental encounter with Mrs. Chang and hints at a possible union between them.

By analyzing the film textually and performing a close reading of film techniques, I intend to discuss the ways in which the Chinese father Mr. Chu is represented with respect to the traditional masculine wen-wu paradigm and the Chinese notions of patriarchy and fatherhood. Then I explore how the Chinese father’s male identity is threatened in the father-son relationship and how he restores his masculinity. I argue that Lee’s portrayal of the Chinese father provides an alternative perspective for the

Chapter Fifteen

194

Western audience to comprehend Chinese masculinity and fatherhood in a culturally specific paradigm, which challenges the stereotypes of emasculated Chinese men and patriarchal fathers. Mr. Chu’s final withdrawal to Chinatown is a clear case of transdifference being eradicated by the character’s option for clear forms of belonging to Chinese manhood.2

Wen-wu Dyad: Asserting Chinese Masculinity Paradigm

In Theorising Chinese Masculinity, Kam Louie develops a wen-wu dyad to represent the Chinese masculine ideal. He asserts that the Western standard of manhood is misleading in an analysis of other cultures and that a Chinese masculine paradigm should be generated within the Chinese context rather than simply concluding that Chinese men are feminized or emasculated (2002, 9). According to Louie, wen refers to those literary and cultural attainments associated with classical scholars, while wu centers on physical strength and military prowess. The masculine model presented by the wen-wu dichotomy was one to which men of all social classes aspired. Moreover, one could be a character of either wen or wu, or a combination of both (11-15). However, “just as in the yin-yang scheme the most perfect being is he or she who has harmonized the two categories, so in the wen-wu scheme the man above men must possess both attributes” (Louie and Edwards 1994, 142). Thus the masculine ideal is a combination of both wen and wu to “achieve successful government of nation, family and self” (Louie 2002, 16).

Although the ideal masculine image is a combination of wen and wu, the relationship between wen and wu is not equal (Louie 2002, 17). In Analects, Confucius shows clearly his preference for wen over wu: “Of the shao music, the Master said, it was perfectly beautiful and perfectly good. Of the wu music, he said, it was perfectly beautiful but not perfectly good” ( , “ ” “ ” ) (LY, 3.25). Annping Chin further explains that wu is associated with King Wu, the founder of the Zhou, who had conquered the Shang by violence. Compared to Emperor Shun, who ascended to power by virtue of his charisma, the wu music of King Wu was inferior (2015, 41). Confucius’ comparison between Emperor Shun and King Wu demonstrates that the superiority of wen over wu has existed for a long time in the history of China. “In tracing the dynamics of the balance between wen and wu from classical times, Huang (Kuanzhong) found that in the early period both wen and wu had equal value, with wu losing favor in the Warring States and Eastern Jin and reviving it in the Tang dynasty, only to lose it again in the Song” (Louie and Edwards 1994,

Masculinity and Fatherhood in Ang Lee’s Pushing Hands 195

145). Furthermore, from the Sui dynasty (AD 606) to the late Qing dynasty (1905), the civil service examination system was the ultimate aspiration and the most effective tool for Chinese men to gain social status. As the Chinese phrase remarks: “to be a scholar is to be at a top of the society” ( ). The association of wen masculinity with the right to rule is deeply rooted in the history of China, which, by extension, legitimized the primacy of wen to wu. The divide and the hierarchy of wen-wu continue today (147). Despite the appeal of Chinese men portrayed by Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan in Kung Fu films, Chinese men favor the power of the softer and refined intellectual masculine form in expression of wen.

A Paragon of Wen-wu Model

Mr. Chu, the Chinese father in Pushing Hands, incarnates the traditional masculine ideal in terms of both wen-wu attributes. The opening shot of the film features hands pushing away in the air, emphasizing the act of practicing Tai Chi. Mr. Chu demonstrates his physical prowess of Tai Chi in the Chinese restaurant scene. After leaving his son’s house, Mr. Chu rents a small apartment in Chinatown and works as a dishwasher in a Chinese restaurant. The venal boss treats Mr. Chu disrespectfully and intends to fire him the second day. Mr. Chu tries to plead with him to keep the job, but the boss is impatient and forces him to leave the kitchen. Humiliated by his rudeness, Master Chu refuses to go. He stands rooted in place, summoning energy from Tai Chi and resists the efforts of the Chinese gangsters called on to remove him. Whitney Crothers Dilley remarks that the father’s “heroic action” requires “a distracting cultural shift” for the Western audience, who may be confused about Mr. Chu’s “warding off the employer who has fired him and ordered him to leave the premises” (2007, 56). From the perspective of Chinese masculinity, this fighting scene is a marvelous display of Mr. Chu’s wu virility, which demonstrates not only his physical strength, but also the wu virtue. In Chinese culture, wu centers on but is not restricted to martial and military force. According to Louie, wu also embodies seven virtues: “suppressed violence, gathered in arms, protected what was great, established merit, gave peace to the people, harmonized the masses and propagate wealth,” which together means “the degree of military authority sufficient to make further engagement unnecessary” (Louie and Edwards 1994, 142). In this sense, wu masculinity contains the Confucian notion of benevolence ( ) and self-restraints in deploying the physical strength. The fighting scene evidently embodies this wu philosophy. Mr. Chu behaves quite humbly

Chapter Fifteen

196

and remains calm in front of the ruthless boss until he infuriates Mr. Chu with insults such as “useless trash” and threatens his masculine honor. Bret Hinsch points out that “an acute sensitivity to honor conditioned the development of early Chinese masculinity” (2013, 31) and a man is respected when he retaliates to defend his honor, in which case violence can be legitimated (32). Mr. Chu maintains a respectable and manly public image through a physical display of Tai Chi force in his resistance against the kitchen workers who attempt to forcibly remove him. Moreover, there is an emphasis on his manliness when the scene depicts his physical superiority over the gangsters who try to challenge him. Meanwhile, he displays a Confucian concept of masculine honor in benevolence and tolerance. His self-discipline in the employment of violence renders his fighting heroic rather than cruel. Consequently, Mr. Chu is recognized as a wu hero in Lee’s depiction.

As an example of ideal Chinese man, Master Chu strikes a balance of the wen-wu attributes. While wu masculinity is more attainable to the ordinary man, the wen attribute is confined to high literati in antiquity as cultural capital (Louie and Edwards 1994, 146). The Qin dynasty witnessed a fierce competition of the constituents of hegemonic manhood between the rich merchants and the educated elite literati. This culminated in the Song dynasty when “cultural refinement became intimately connected with ideal manhood” (Hirsch 2013, 94). Calligraphy practice, poems, and tea drinking have been important elite cultural pursuits among scholars since then. Besides his prowess in Tai Chi, Mr. Chu also exhibits other refined cultural practices of writing calligraphy, reading poems, and playing chess. The camera casts several meaningful shots of the scroll on the wall and captures some very detailed moments of his practicing calligraphy of Wang Wei’s poem: To Zhang Shaofu. 3 Mr. Chu’s wen-wu dyad bestows upon him the aura of ideal masculinity in the Chinese culture.

Filial Piety – The Connection between Chinese Manhood and Fatherhood

Kam Louie’s wen-wu dyad captures the Chinese masculinity paradigm and proves insightful to the perception of Mr. Chu’s manliness from a non-Western gender paradigm. However, the wen-wu dyad is inadequate to fully capture Chinese manhood, because it ignores the most important determinant – filial piety – in defining a man in Chinese culture. According to Bret Hinsch, the elevation of filial piety to a preeminent masculine ideal marks a radical distinction between manhood in China and in the West


(2013, 7). In Confucian patriarchy, to be a man is firstly to be a filial son, whose most important responsibility is to pass on the family lineage through a male heir. As Mencius said, “There are three things that are unfilial,4 and the greatest of them is to have no posterity. Shun married without informing his parents out of concern that he might have no posterity. The noble person considers that it was as if he had informed them” (

) (Mengzi 4.26). The discontinuing of a family lineage due to the lack of an heir is considered the biggest offense against the ideal of filial piety. A man’s identity and purpose of existence are not complete until he begets a son. Thus manhood cannot be separated from fatherhood in Chinese culture and neither can be fully described or understood without reference to the other.

According to David Y.F. Ho, “The definition of fatherhood in traditional China was primarily a Confucian definition” and the father was unquestionably “the official head of the household” (2013, 227). In Confucian thoughts, the superiority of father over son was determined by a “natural law,” such that “the father guides the son” ( ). In spite of the father’s authority over the son, they are both governed by filial piety. “A son was expected to be obedient and respectful towards parents, provide for their material as well as mental wellbeing in their old age, and to perform ceremonial duties of ancestral worship after their death” (228). In turn, the father has to “bring up his children as filial sons and daughters” and “failure to do so would render himself an unfilial son in the eyes of his ancestor” (228). In this kind of father-son relationship, individual autonomy is obviously very limited. Bret Hinsch points out: “In many cultures, a man proclaims his entry to adulthood by aggressively asserting independence from his parents. In contrast, to some extent the Chinese man always remains a child in relation to his parents. He proves his maturity by subsuming his desire for autonomy, thereby demonstrating a manly strength of will” (2013, 8). In a nutshell, filial piety has an immense impact on defining Chinese manhood and fatherhood. Most importantly, it connects both roles. Further of worthy consideration is that filial piety is “not just a duty but also an opportunity” for a man in China (8). A man can either assert or injure his manhood by fulfilling his filial obligations or neglecting them.

Manhood Frustration in the Father-Son Relationship

Mr. Chu’s manliness is undermined in the father-son relationship. Kam Louie points out that the wen-wu paradigm has been used to exclude

Chapter Fifteen

198

women and create a hierarchy among men with wen men dominating wu men throughout Chinese history (2015, 39). In Pushing Hands, the son, Alex, is depicted as a wen man with no cultural refinements in the areas of calligraphy or poems, and yet he surpasses his father in aspects of the transformed wen masculinity. He accomplishes this by virtue of his profession as an engineer in computer science with an American doctoral title.

(Dialogue with Mrs. Chang while Mr. Chu is massaging for her)

Mrs. Chang: “Mr. Chu, your Kung Fu is so powerful. How do you manage to have such elegant calligraphy?”5 Mr. Chu: “I am ashamed to talk about it. My grandfather was a scholar in Qing Dynasty. My father was one of the Nation Founders, who is in charge of the Nationalist government. My son is a PhD in computer science. In a family of scholars for generations, there is worthless me. I have practiced Tai Chi for life, but still cannot overcome the (pathetic) fate and circumstances.”

This dialogue clearly shows Mr. Chu’s self-perception as a wu man with limited wen attributes and his association of wen with elite masculinity over wu. Despite being a Tai Chi master skilled in the wen arts of calligraphy and poetic appreciation, Mr. Chu considers himself to be inferior “in a family of scholars for generations”. In the Chinese tradition, participation and success in the imperial examination formed a respected component of the masculine image and “wen was more clearly the masculinity of the powerholders” (Louie and Edwards 1994, 146). Mr. Chu’s grandfather and father were both scholars who were men of high social status. They were, therefore, not only capable of controlling their own fates but also influencing the destiny of the nation. As the only wu man in the family, Mr. Chu sees himself as a powerless member of the non-elite class who somehow fails to overcome circumstances and has to rely on his son in his old age. Besides, his wen attributes in cultural refinements seem to be inferior to Alex’s wen masculinity, which is founded on his middle-class profession and economic success. This new concept of wen masculinity presents a challenge to Mr. Chu’s ideal masculinity in Chinese tradition and most importantly, it demonstrates that in the wen-wu dyad, in particular, the wen masculinity is redefined under the impact of capitalism.

Kam Louie advocates that wen ideals have been fundamentally transformed, encompassing commercial expertise between 1980s and 1990s for China’s open door policy. He observes that “the Chinese male ideal is moving closer to the image of young executives found in in-flight


magazines read by the international jet-set” (2002, 43). Since the end of the Cultural Revolution, the rapid economic growth in China has been constructing a positive image of wen masculinity that is grounded in material success, and wen men in the new era are thus re-interpreted as those who advocate righteousness ( ) as a means to become economically successful (56). Situating the wen-wu model in the father-son relationship, Lee actually portrays the changing process of gender order in China and the transformation of Chinese manhood. Mr. Chu is the epitome of many Chinese (American) men who are facing challenges in their male identities in a global context. The capitalist ethos reduces the values of certain attributes in the traditional wen masculinity. Cultural tastes in calligraphy or music are rendered as less important while material success becomes a significant benchmark in measurement of Chinese masculinity.

Mr. Chu’s manliness is further destabilized in respect of his traditional fatherhood, which Alex seems to reject in his parental involvement in the relation to his son Jeremy.

Mr. Chu: “In America, you are so polite to kids.” Alex: “You think so?” Mr. Chu: “You don’t treat kids as kids. It is interesting.” Alex: “It is very interesting. It is called democracy. Democracy means no big and no little.” Mr. Chu: “Ok, you understand America better than I do.”

Alex’s explanation of democracy to Mr. Chu indicates his rejection of the hierarchy between father and son. He prefers a “democratic” fathering style that is built on the establishment of an equal and friendly father-son relationship. He might expect to communicate further with his father, who nevertheless ends the conversation abruptly in a sarcastic tone. Mr. Chu’s authoritative fatherhood is challenged by his lack of knowledge of the American society, with which his son is more familiar. The conflict between Mr. Chu and Alex culminates when Alex arranges a match for him and Mrs. Chang so as to move his father out of the house. The conflict lies in the fact that the father and the son harbor disparate notions of filial piety. Mr. Chu expects to live together with Alex, who has to fulfill his traditional Chinese filial obligations by taking care of his aging father. Failure to do so renders him unfilial, particularly as Mr. Chu has endured all the difficulties and remained single to bring up his son. Moreover, he has also lost his wife while protecting his son in the revolt against the Red Guards. However, Mr. Chu’s Chinese fatherhood is disturbed by his son’s conflicting notion of filial piety. Instead of following the obligations of prioritizing his father’s physical and mental wellbeing over his desires,

Chapter Fifteen

200

Alex values individualism more and prefers to live in a nuclear family with his wife and son.6 Bringing up such an “unfilial” son means humiliation and failure in Chinese fatherhood for Mr. Chu, who feels ashamed in front of the ancestors. Meanwhile, his masculine honor as a respectable father is also injured. As a result, he leaves the house in great disappointment and frustration.

Mr. Chu’s forced departure demonstrates a destabilization of both his manhood and fatherhood in the father-son relationship. However, the ending of the film endorses the patriarchal order and the Confucian values of filial piety. With great regrets, Alex finally locates his father in prison.

Alex: “ Dad, we have bought a new house. It is much bigger than the old one.” Mr. Chu: “What for?” Alex: “I am here to take you home.” Mr. Chu: “Home? Whose home?” Alex: “Mine is yours.” Mr. Chu: “Forget it. I see clearly now. The only thing that matters is that you have a happy life. If you want to show some filial respect, rent me an apartment in Chinatown. Let me peacefully pass my days and discipline my spirit. In your free time, bring the boy to see me. By this way, when we get together, there will be some good feelings.” Alex: “Dad, all these years, I have studied and worked so hard to build a family in order that one day I could bring you to the States, so you could have some good days in your life.” (Alex bursts out crying in the arms of Mr. Chu)

Film techniques are meaningfully employed in the conversation to evoke emotional resonance and sympathy towards the old Chinese father. The camera casts the father sitting in his prison cell from a high angle shot in the perspective of Alex, who stands in front of him at a lower angle, thus marking the relationship dynamics of the vulnerable father and the powerful son. Then Alex bends down to Mr. Chu, the camera closes up to show Alex’s head bowering lower to his father – an endorsement of the patriarchal order. The frozen shots keep Mr. Chu’s profile in the dark, avoiding the exposure of his face, indicating his repression of emotions. Low and somber music played on the traditional Chinese instrument er-hu creates an audio sympathy between the audience and the father, and also portrays the inner pain and bitterness of the old father, whose face is not cast in light until Alex ends the conversation by bursting into tears in the arms of his father. The close-up of the father’s withered face highlights his aging and deteriorating health. Finally, the camera takes a long shot of the father hugging the son in the prison, demonstrating the ultimate


reconciliation between Mr. Chu and Alex. The scene then shifts to the big new house, in which Alex intends to live together with his father, indicating his return to traditional Chinese practice of filial piety and the embrace of his father’s manhood.7

Transdifference

It is worth noting that instead of living together with his son in the big new house, Mr. Chu eventually insists on renting an apartment in Chinatown, where he works as a popular Tai Chi master instructing both Chinese and American students. His invitation to Mrs. Chang at the end of the film is a sweet and understated scene, implicitly demonstrating Mr. Chu’s reassertion of manhood.8 In this sense, cultural boundaries seem to provide a shelter for Mr. Chu in restoring his male subjectivity after a long process of interaction and frustration of portrayals of manhood and fatherhood in the father-son relationship.

In the theory of “Transdifference,” Breinig and Lösch point out: Transdifference, understood as a by-product of any process of identity formation, is usually suppressed in the articulation of identities, since the function of identity and alterity must be seen precisely in the reduction of complexity for the sake of an ontological safety of groups (and individuals) in a fundamentally contingent world (2006, 112).

Mr. Chu’s withdrawal to Chinatown in defense of his manliness explicitly demonstrates the suppression of transdifference. In his articulation of a clear form of belonging to Chinese manhood, the complexity of identity politics is eradicated. Most importantly, the possibility for masculinity negotiations is shunned. However, Mr. Chu is not the person to blame. His option for “an ontological safety” indicates the power affiliations of identities, in particular, masculinities in American society. As a paragon of the wen-wu masculine model in Chinese culture, Mr. Chu’s masculinity is nevertheless marginalized in American society because of the society’s urgency “to reduce world complexity by reverting to a thinking of difference in which inbetweenness, multiple solidarities, and oscillations have no place” (Hein 2012, 261). Thus the voice of the Chinese notion of manhood and fatherhood is interrupted and silenced in the society through the father-son relationship. Mr. Chu’s choice of withdrawing to Chinatown results from his powerlessness in validating Chinese manhood and fatherhood in American society and, unfortunately, within the global arena where the concept of white American manhood dominates and that of Chinese manhood is subordinated.

Chapter Fifteen

202

In conclusion, what can be traced through Lee’s representation of Mr. Chu in Pushing Hands is the denial to grant American manhood privilege that is constructed upon the projection of emasculation and repression onto Chinese men. As a Tai Chi master, Mr. Chu displays strength and virtues of the wu masculinity that he balances with the cultural refinements of wen in calligraphy, poems, and chess. Framing Mr. Chu’s manhood within the wen-wu paradigm, Lee challenges the American hegemonic masculine discourse and provides an alternative perspective for the Western audience to understand Chinese manhood in a culturally specific paradigm. Meanwhile, filial piety, as a significant marker and connector of Chinese manhood and fatherhood, is conceived with ambiguity in Pushing Hands. On the one hand, Lee explores the suppression of filial piety on the father, in particular, the son, criticizing the Chinese patriarchal style of fathering. On the other hand, he nevertheless advocates traditional Chinese ethics and values in maintaining a harmonious father-son relationship. Finally, in the era of frequent interactions among cultures, it is impossible to attain an ontological safety in clearly defined cultural boundaries, but special attention should be paid to the power asymmetry in the interactions of masculinities in the contemporary world and to the efforts to dismantle them.

Works Cited

Bloom, Irene, trans. Mencius. Edited by Philip J. Ivanhoe. New York: Columbia University Press, 2009.

Breinig, Helmbrecht, and Klaus Lösch. “Transdifference.” Journal of the Study of British Cultures, 13/2 (2006): 105-122.

Chin, Annping, trans. Confucius: The Analects. New York: Penguin Books, 2015.

Dariotis, Wei Ming, and Eileen Fung. “Breaking the Soy Sauce Jar: Diaspora and Displacement in the Films of Ang Lee”. In Transnational Chinese Cinemas: Identity, Nationhood, Gender, edited by Sheldon Hsiao-peng Lu, 187-220. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 1997.

Dilley, Whitney Crothers. The cinema of Ang Lee: the other side of the screen. London: Wallflower Press, 2007.

Hein, Christina Judith. Whiteness, the Gaze, and Transdifference in Contemporary Native American Fiction. Heideberg: Winter, 2012.

Hinsch, Bred. Masculinities in Chinese History. Lanham, Maryland: Rowman & Littlefield publishers, Inc., 2013.


Ho, D.Y.F. “Fatherhood in Chinese Culture.” In Father’s Role: Cross Cultural Perspectives, edited by M. E. Lamb, 227-246. Florence, KY, USA: Routledge, 2013.

Jin, Liangnian , annot. Mengzi [Mencius]. Shanghai: Shanghai Guji Chubanshe, 2004.

Louie, Kam and Louise Edwards. “Chinese Masculinity: Theorizing Wen and Wu.” East Asian History 8 (1994): 135-148.

Louie, Kam. Chinese Masculinities in A Globalizing World. London, New York: Routledge, 2015.

—. Theorising Chinese Masculinity: Society and gender in China. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002.

Pushing Hands, directed by Ang Lee. 1992. CA: Image Entertainment Studio, 1999. DVD.

Yang, Bojun , annot. Lunyu yizhu [The Analects of Confucius]. Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1958.

Notes

1 I thank my supervisor PD Dr. Reinhard Isensee for his help in both my PhD project study and his feedback to this essay. 2 Transdifference was introduced by Helmbrecht Breinig and Klaus Lösch in 2000. As a term proved to have analytical value in transcultural studies, it has been deployed much to analyze native North American literatures. It refers to the “phenomena of a co-presence of different or even oppositional properties, affiliations elements of semantic and epistemological meaning construction, where this co-presence is regarded or experienced as cognitively dissonant, full of tension, and undissolvable” (2006, 105). My employment of the term in analyzing masculinities in Ang Lee’s films is affirmed by Prof. Breinig, who helped me a lot in the analysis of transdifference in this essay. 3 To Zhang Shaofu is a poem by Wang Wei in the Tang dynasty. This poem manifests a pursuit of spiritual liberation in depression, indicating the poet’s disgust with the life of an official and expresses a willingness to maintain an aloof life in nature. This poem in the film implicitly demonstrates the inner depression and pain Mr. Chu suffers in cultural displacement, indicating his rejection of assimilation into the mainstream American culture. 4 In Irene Bloom’s translation of Mencius, he explains that “according to Zhao Qi, the other two expressions of unfiliality were acquiescing in lack of rightness on the part of a parent and failing to provide for them in their old age” (2009, 86). 5 The English subtitles here are not accurate. Mrs. Chang points out critically that Mr. Chu’s calligraphy skill is not as powerful as his Kung Fu and Mr. Chu’s answer implies his inadequacy in wen attributes. 6 In the article “Breaking the Soy Sauce Jar: Diaspora and Displacement in the Films of Ang Lee”, Wei Ming Dariotis and Eileen Fung point out that the conflict

Chapter Fifteen

204

between the father and the son shows that there is “a contrast of values between China and America” (1997, 196). Mr. Chu “puts his son before his wife” (196) while Alex obviously puts his nuclear family (his wife and son) before his father. My PhD dissertation explores the comparison between Chinese manhood and American manhood further in this film, investigating negotiations of masculinities in transcultural spaces. 7 I am grateful to Wendy Ashleigh Teo for helping me to formulate this point in discussion. 8 Dariotis and Fung take Mr. Chu’s final decision to live in Chinatown and his initiation in his relationship to Mrs. Chang as a signifier of a “newfound vigor and hope”, despite the fact that they are both “culturally isolated in Chinatown while the rest of the United States remains unintelligible to them” (1997, 198).

SECTION IV

PRIMETIME POPS: FATHERHOOD IN POPULAR CULTURE

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

DIFFERENT NOTIONS OF FATHERHOOD IN ANIME SERIES NARUTO AND IN THE FIRST

PART OF KARL OVE KNAUSGÅRD'S AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL NOVEL MY STRUGGLE

GRZEGORZ MA ECKI In the proposed topic I would like to look at two different approaches and ways of depicting paternity as described in two completely varying pieces of art. The first one is a part of Japanese mass culture – very popular TV series, narrating the story of shinobi settlements in a fantasy world. It is based on the concept of Japanese manga artist Masashi Kishimoto. He started publishing it in 1999. Naruto ended on November 10, 2014 after more than 15 years of serialization, with a total of 700 chapters collected in 72 volumes. Sales have exceeded 113 million copies in Japan and over 95 million copies in the US. Anime series is produced by Studio Pierrot and Aniplex and broadcasted since 2002. The second analysed work became a literary phenomenon of our times. My Struggle is a series of six autobiographical novels, the first of which was published in 2009. The series has sold half a million copies in Norway alone and has been published in 22 languages. It is a fascinating and dark description of not-the-happiest childhood and adolescence.

Using comparative analysis I want to confront two different models of fatherhood – the one in which a father is physically absent and his role is played by mentors and teachers (Naruto), and the other in which he is a strong, or even domineering figure (My Struggle). I would like to focus first and foremost on the methods of constructing the figure of paternity in both cases – whether they have something in common, do the authors use similar strategies to edify the characters (of the fathers, mentors and scions at the same time) or are they completely disparate in this matter. It shall be also considered how the presence or absence of a father – both physical and psychological so to speak – influences general development of a

Different Notions of Fatherhood in Naruto and My Struggle 207

young man. Lastly, I would want to excogitate the problem of the father's image as the one who is culturally obliged to devolve and instill ethical values.

To better understand the problem of the absence of a father or – as it is nicely recognized by Lothar Shon (2012) – the fact of having "too little of father," first we need to look at a situation where we have to deal with a present father (15). I shall not analyze the issue of relational triangle which usually has a mother-son-father form, focusing only on the dyadic character of a father-male child relationship.

In the first part of My Struggle we find a few strong memories of Karl Ove connected with his image of his father. Karl describes his kin according to a river-like flow of consciousness. What is very striking from the beginning is the fact of the father’s continuous presence and absence at the same time. The presence, however, is of both kinds – physical and psychological. Absence, on the other hand, seems to be only mental, as I am going to prove. Karl's father is a teacher with leftist views, he has got two sons, a wife, a house, and a car. He is keen on philately and gardening. As Karl Ove points out on the first pages, he is able to sense people's weaknesses. And he uses this ability – with a great passion – on his younger son. Knausgård sees his struggle mainly in the categories of fear of his father. As a child he wants to establish an identity, subjectivity and "I," but due to his father's "watchful tyranny" – as Jørgen Lorentzen (2013) puts it – he has to develop mental toughness instead, in which he rather fails (148). A remedy – even partial – turns out to be music, school environment, and alcohol. The protagonist seems to be primarily a very sensitive person – paradoxically it helps him to some extent in dealing with the panoptical character of fatherhood. He can sensually feel the mood of his father – he even calls it "meteorology of mind":

When I saw him, I was able to describe his humour, and – in a sense – this knowledge was the most important. I knew his moods and long time ago I learned to anticipate them using something, what I later named the »subconscious kind of categorization«, in which the ratio between the number of fixed values was enough to say what I can expect and how I should prepare myself 1(19). At one point Karl Ove uses incisive description of his father, in the

light of which he emerges as a monumental figure with symbol of paternal authority in hands:

We are forbidden to run around the garden, so for a moment – before being captured by his glance – I slow down and start to walk. Father is standing

Chapter Sixteen

208

on the back of the house, in the place of new vegetable patch, and he is hammering the ledge. Even though the hollow is not that big, dug earth on which my father is standing and rowan trees growing densely behind the fence give an impression as if twilight went further. When dad straightens out and turns to me his face is almost completely dark. Despite this, I have more than enough information to know exactly how he feels. His humours do not come from facial expressions, but from demeanour his body takes, and they shall not be read through thoughts, but by intuition (pp.13-14).

This meaningful description sums up Karl's father's characteristic. He seems to present himself as the one who has the only right to give final opinions. There are some things which are strictly forbidden even though the logic of paternal paradigm indicates more liberal solutions. What is even more striking and important is the fact that Karl Ove himself creates a very unambiguous image of his father by using strongly marked vocabulary, yet composing a literary atmosphere of paternal domination. Lorentzen rightly notes that the father “gives the appearance of being all-seeing and all-hearing and thus rules over his son's entire inner universe" (151). His reactions are absolute, in a voice that invites no argument. Thus Karl Ove also inhabits a world of absolutes. He always faces a stark choice between emotional and physical humiliation or escape.

Primarily I see the mental absence of Karl's father in his unreadiness to understand and to accept his son's different temperaments and sensibilities. He seems to be unable to find the balance between his authoritarian character and proper interaction with his offspring growing up. He does not avoid being critical, cynical and sometimes even disrespectful. However, there are a few signs that indicate his abilities to act like a member of the family – he is partly able to adapt to a new era of equality and work-sharing. He is very good at home at a practical level of caring about. But he strictly refuses to fully adapt to the dual role of man in a quickly changing reality – serious and fair member of a social group at the same time. As Lorentzen writes: “Knausgård's description of his father poses question not merely of the practice of fatherhood, but about masculinity in general. [...] The true change in fatherhood entails, therefore, also a change in masculinity” (148).

The problem remains unsolved, as Karl Ove comes out of this relationship marked with humiliation, shame, fear and social insecurity, and he is unable to fully release himself from his father's grip. And this fact not only resonates on a very complicated future of the main character of the whole series and his relations with different social groups, but also leads us to the problem of devolving ethical values in scions. Until the late 1960s, fathers were culturally obliged to conduct the moral development


of the male-child. However, in the quickly changing Western societies (thanks to feminist movements, gender equality, neo-liberal policies) the roles of the father and mother at the same time have changed dramatically – so to say. In the modern societies fatherhood is identified not only with the transmission of strict values but also with the whole process of nurturing the child along with the mother. This radical change requires from the father an equally radical approach. By radical I mean the reversal of the paternal paradigm in the liberal yet egalitarian spirit. It is described in a very interesting and logical way by Ralph LaRossa (2015), who highlights three factors associated with the new role of the father. These are: engagement, accessibility, and responsibility. All of them are connected and form the desired characteristics of the modern father – keeping direct contact (both mental and physical) with a child, feeding, clothing, carrying, being able to provide direct care and being responsible for instilling ethical values, yet giving enough freedom to the scion to find his own path of moral cooperation with the world. Even a desultory look at Karl’s father’s behaviour and his idea of fatherhood leads us to the conclusion that there is no place for the modern style of parenting. Moral education of Karl is properly limited to the brief commands, clear orders and absolute restrictions. Karl’s father does not seem to care about building sincere a relation based on engagement, accessibility and responsibility. In return he gives his son a distant yet tyrannical intimacy, coldness, lack of devotion and dialogue. His paradigm of fatherhood does not cooperate with people’s different temperaments and consequently leads to the aimlessness of the father-male child relationship.

While thinking about Naruto series for a while, I discovered a pattern of mentorship which seems to play a fundamental role in the protagonist’s development. Because Naruto has to grow up without a proper family, he has to be taken care of by teachers (Iruka, Kakashi and Jiraiya). All of them are linked by more than one feature, but there is one which is of great importance – they quickly had to cope with the loss of their parents. This common experience not only shows the characteristic of a fictional world, in which an unbreakable circle of war entails a large number of victims, but primarily underlines the fact of moulding the characters of heroes – having a great sense of duty, valuing honour and loyalty and, quite surprisingly, being soft-hearted. Thanks to their mental abilities – they found their own place in societies – they are all able to guide and teach even the rowdiest individuals. In the case of Naruto we have to deal with something which might be called peer mentoring. This one is a form of mentorship in which a person who has lived through a specific experience (peer mentor) can give his apprentice (mentee) a chance of overcoming a

Chapter Sixteen

210

specific life experience or lead to discover new ideas. As Paulo Freire (1997) put it:

The fundamental task of the mentor is a liberatory task. It is not to encourage the mentor’s goals and aspirations and dreams to be reproduced in the mentees, the students, but to give rise to the possibility that the students become the owners of their own history. This is how I understand the need that teachers have to transcend their merely instructive task and to assume the ethical posture of a mentor who truly believes in the total autonomy, freedom, and development of those he or she mentors (342).

It also has to be highlighted that the relations between Naruto and mentors are based mainly on trust and devotion and have something in common with Confucian rules, but understood broadly (the rules were and in fact still are quite important for Chinese society, especially for traditionalists). The Confucianism sees filial piety (jap. koh) as a true virtue which shall be cultivated by children – however, it seems that here we can speak about fatherly piety as well, as presented and maintained by the boy's teachers. It seems to be in complete opposition to a classical model and studies which show that father-son relationship is a source of conflict, competition, criticism and lack of understanding (Morman and Floyd 2002, 395-411).

From the very beginning Naruto, growing up without parents, causes clear educational problems – he is late for school, neglects meals, plays tricks on villagers and on the shinobi community. In the first episode of the series, Naruto finds out a little bit about his burden thanks to a spy from another village – mighty power of Nine-Tails Fox has been sealed in newborn child. From now on Naruto tries to understand, learn about and finally control such a powerful life-affecting force accursed in him. Third Hokage (leader of Konoha Village) in a discussion with the first of Naruto's mentors – Iruka – reminds him of the boy's fate:

Naruto has been growing up without parents' love. What is more – because of the past – everyone treats him as if he were leprous. Therefore he is trying to get attention by doing stupid jokes. This is the only way somebody could recognize the value of his existence. He pretends to be strong, but his heart is bleeding2. In the fight against the spy Iruka protects helpless Naruto with his own

body and explains to him why he did it: "Because we are the same” (this sentence will be coming back like a mantra in Naruto's mouth, during the clashes with different enemies).


After the death of my parents nobody paid attention to me and I was not appreciated. I was pretending to be a clown, because I wanted people to notice me. It was really tough for me. You must feel the same way. You feel lonely. Your heart is bleeding. Considering the fact that Nine-Tails killed Iruka's parents and firstly

Iruka asked the Third Hokage if he could not teach Naruto, it seems to be an act of great devotion. Iruka came to be the only person Naruto respected in his youth as well as the only person who could control Naruto's behaviour to some degree. Iruka's words prove that he had a special feeling towards his apprentice: “You want to know what I really think of you?! I think you're one of my most precious students… and… you're like a little brother to me.”

The boy's next teacher – one of the most notable personalities in Konoha village – Kakashi – is an excellent mentor mainly because of his intuition, stoicism and matter-of-fact attitude. He is very perceptive and intuitive – teamwork, dedication and following the rules are the most appreciated values. What Naruto gains from him – primarily – is the value of sacrifice and loyalty: “In the ninja world, those who break the rules are trash. However, those who abandon their comrades are worse than trash. And the ones who abandon their friends' feelings are even worse than that.”

On another occasion he sums up his worldview in these words: I told you that I'll never let my friends die… that's also something that I wanted to convince myself of… There are many friends I was unable to protect so far… That's why every time I swear that I'll protect them… but then I still happen to face the truth of when I'm not able to do it… You have to take that 'wound' with you forever… That's why we're the one to endure… We are Ninja. Kakashi fulfils the role of a real father in the whole series to the

greatest extent, as he stands by Naruto until the final resolution. Moreover, he seems to be the great model of Japanese methodological anti-individualism, which has its roots in rich cultural traditions, as Radoslaw Kossakowski mentions in an interesting essay about the paradoxes of the Japanese man's identity (2008, 192-197). Traditions primarily connected the concept of the state as the all-inclusive family with the emperor as the head of the family of all Japanese people. There is also a strong religious influence of Buddhism and ethical values derived from the Confucian thought. One of Naruto’s teachers seems to be a great example of a combination of the best features of a conscious member of the anti-

Chapter Sixteen

212

individual community. Kakashi’s thoughts are mainly individuated by his environment, which does not entail conformism. Following the lead of Kossakowski one can say that shinobi has got a lot from the warrior, but absolutely nothing indicates the thoughtless actions and words. Kakashi’s anti-individualism finds its fulfillment in an attitude full of trust, friendship, loyalty and sensitivity. Public awareness of Naruto’s mentor is high enough to allow him to successfully perform both as a father and the leader of the village. His role as the one providing the boy with moral values such as unity, devotion, stubbornness, and humanity remains beyond doubt.

The name "Jiraiya" roughly translated means "I came," and he is the one who probably had the greatest influence on Naruto's technical abilities. Jiraiya made up for the lost knowledge from the academy and genin years, he helped Naruto to develop powerful jutsus or upgrade the existent ones that suit his personality/fighting style. Jiraiya shares the same blood type with his former team-mates, Tsunade and Orochimaru, as well as his apprentices, Naruto and Minato Namikaze. Naruto is Jiraiya's godson and it seems to have the greatest impact on the old fellow's sense of responsibility for the boy. Jiraiya is well known for travelling all around the country in search of knowledge and for being a hermit and a sexual pervert. During fights he shows off and uses kabuki traditional poses accompanied by dramatic self-introductions. As Naruto's mentor he bears in heart a great faith in the boy's stubborness and pugnacity which might lead him to be a true leader, despite his flimsy intellectual abilities. His fatherly piety is also proven once he is dying, when thanks to his determination he forces himself back to life and sends a coded message to Naruto about crucial tactical things – as finally he finds out that Naruto is the child foretold of in the prophecy who will save ninjas’ world. Some time after, Naruto creates a memorial to Jiraiya in the forest near Konoha, adorned with symbols of Jiraiya's life: A rock with the kanji for 'teacher' (jap. shi), Jiraiya's first novel, and Konan's bouquet of "never-dying flowers of hope."

During one battle Jiraiya explains to Orochimaru (another legendary ninja – level sannin) why he sees a point in training Naruto – according to Orochimaru he seems to be useless:

This is why I don't want to train this Uchicha kid (Sasuke – great rival of Naruto, planning to destroy Konoha Leaf). There is no point teaching somebody who is already a genius. You're wrong, that's not what makes a shinobi. You never did get it, a real ninja is one who endures no matter what gets thrown at him… Let me explain something to you, there is only one thing that matters if you are a shinobi, and it isn't the number of


techniques you possess. All you do need, is the guts to never give up. This is unbelievable determination!

At this moment, Naruto rises up once again to defend Tsunade from Orochimaru's companion attack.

There is also one very meaningful scene of Naruto's subconscious discussion with his true father. This is what he says to Minato while speaking with him in his own mind and punching him hardly:

How the hell could you seal the Kyuubi in your own son? I've been through hell and back because of it! I'd get nothing but dirty looks from my elders and I didn't even make friends for a long time! I'd push myself to the max, just to be acknowledged by everybody. I trained like hell to get strong! Then I met Iruka-sensei, Kakashi-sensei and Ero Sennin (Jiraiya) and I got even stronger because of them! But because of the Kyuubi I became a target of a group called Akatsuki ('dawn,' 'daybreak'), so I had to train even harder! By the time I finally got strong enough, my friends were all done in by Akatsuki, but I...I...Damn it! I don't even know if I am happy or pissed off anymore! - Naruto, how old are you now? - Sixteen. - Wow... You are already sixteen. It must have been hard for you. I am sorry, Naruto. I suppose after putting my own son through so much I have no right to act like a father and apologize. - It's all right already. I'm the son of the Fourth Hokage so I can handle it. - I sealed half of the Nine-Tail's chakra inside of you because I believed you could control its power. Because you are my son. Minato tries to clarify things and he sums things up saying: In order to save something dear... wars are waged. As long as there is love there will be hate. And some will take advantage of that hatred. This monster known as hate will not die while there is a system of ninja. It will give birth to more Pains (the one who attacked Konoha village and killed Jiraiya). To be a ninja is to confront hatred. Each and every one of us battles hatred. Jiraiya-sensei trusted you to find a way to end this hatred. - What should I do? - You must find the answer yourself. I do not have the answer. - Everyone expects so much. I am not smart! And I am not a great ninja! And... (Minato puts his right hand on Naruto's head) – I know you'll find the answer. I have faith in you. - Really? You really believe I can do it? - To be a parent is to have undying faith in one's child. [...] I am counting on you, Naruto!

Naruto is not without any of his father's personality traits: both have indomitable spirits and fierce ambitions that drive them through all their choices in life. Both are of unwavering loyalty to Konoha and their loved ones – friends and family – and that devotion inspires all those around

Chapter Sixteen

214

them. They both have a strong sense of responsibility, loyalty and – what seems to run their passions the most – undying faith in the world peace.

I think the one who is trying to find the notion of fatherhood shall also consider Nine-Tails Fox himself sealed in Naruto. Even though we could treat him just as a source of unnatural powers, or potentially as a dark alter-ego of the boy, we should not completely reject the interpretation in the light of which Kyuubi might be seen as the reflection of parental powers. What needs to be underlined is that Minato sealed the Nine-Tails' Yang half into Naruto, weaving Kushina's (Naruto's mother) chakra into the seal so that she could someday assist Naruto with learning to control the Nine-Tails. At some point Naruto gains the full trust of the dark force, but before it happens, both the boy and the monster have to learn each other, accept their weaknesses and somehow educate each other. Kyuubi upgrades the young man if the situation so requires, he can also rightly advise in high danger – almost always keeping composure. The whole process of learning – at least partly – might be treated as reciprocal or mutual maturation. Finally, thanks to that Naruto is able to believe in Fox to such an extent that he can let him take control during the most important fight. On the other hand, Nine-Tails transforms from incarnated hatred into a brother-in-arms of Naruto. To prove it with quotes: "You runt, you really are weak! You better be grateful to me… and to your beloved Fourth Hokage, who sealed me inside a twerp like you!" From saying that, Kyuubi goes to: "The Fourth Hokage entrusted me to Naruto… We became friends and now he's able to use my chakra! The Fourth sealed me into Naruto… to take you down!" – while arguing with one of the most powerful warriors.

The examples analysed above lead us to a paradoxical conclusion. At the beginning I stated that in the Naruto series the father is absent, while in Knausgård's book he is a domineering figure. In the end, however, it seems that the situation becomes somehow reversed. In the first case we see the figure of "gained fatherhood" – the development of a young man goes hand in hand with getting trust, esteem and learning strong ethical and moral values. All mentors represent a sane attitude towards fatherhood based on the Confucian principles of virtue, loyalty and humanism. In the first part of My struggle there appears to be the notion of "lost fatherhood" combined with "tyrannical fatherhood." The relationship described by the Norwegian writer carries a stigma of panoptical enslavement. Incompatibility of the heroes' characters finds its reflection in a rejection of a good pattern of fatherhood and of masculinity at the same time. The painful process of coming out from under the father's authority stands in clear opposition to the process of rediscovering paternity as presented in the Japanese story.


There is also the issue of the image of the father as the one who is culturally obliged to devolve and instill ethical values. Naruto cultivates a traditional pattern and transmits the role of ethical mentor to men. In the first part of My struggle, the mother does not play a big role in general, but the narrator gives a clear sign that she eventually might be the one who can be a source of moral wisdom as the father seems to be incapable of renouncing his dominance and above all not wanting to fully engage.

Works Cited

Freire, Paolo, James Fraser and Donaldo Macedo (eds.). Mentoring the Mentor: A Critical Dialogue with Paulo Freire. New York: Peter Lang Publishing, 1997.

Knausgård, Karl, Ove. Moja walka. Ksi ga pierwsza. Trans. by Iwona Zimnicka. Kraków: Wydawnictwo Literackie, 2014.

Naruto (anime). Dir. by Hayato Date. Japan, 2002-. Korman, Mark, Floyd, Kory. “A Changing Culture of Fatherhood: Effects

on Affectionate Communication, Closeness and Satisfaction in Men’s Relationship with Their Fathers and Their Sons,” Western Journal of Communication 66(4), 2002, 395-411.

Kossakowski, Rados aw. “Between Warrior, Mama’s Boy and Conformist – Paradoxes of Japanese man’s identity.” In Masculinity in Contemporary Culture. Edited by Andrzej Radomski, Bogumi a Truchli ska. Lublin: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Marii Curie-Sk odowskiej, 192-197, 2008.

LaRossa, Ralph. “The Culture of Fatherhood and the Late-Twentieth-Century New Fatherhood Movement. An Interpretive Perspective.” In Deconstructing Dads: Changing Images of Fathers in Popular Culture. Edited by Laura Tropp, Janice Kelly. Lanham: Lexington Books, 2015. Google Books, accessed 24.12.2015. https://books.google.pl/books?id=mR9UCwAAQBAJ&printsec=frontcover&hl=pl&source=gbs_ge_summary_r&cad=0#v=onepage&q&f=false.

Lorentzen, Jørgen. The History of Fatherhood in Norway, 1850-2012. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2013.

Shon, Lothar. Synowie i ojcowie – t sknota za nieobecnym ojcem. Trans. by Aleksandra Ubertowska. Gda sk Gda skie Wydawnictwo Pedagogiczne, 2002.

Chapter Sixteen

216

Notes 1All of the quoted fragments from My Struggle are taken from the Polish Edition: Karl Ove Knausgård, Moja walka. Ksi ga pierwsza, trans. by Iwona Zimnicka, Kraków, Wydawnictwo Literackie, 2014. Translated by the author (unless stated otherwise). 2All of the quotations from the Naruto series are translated by the author (unless stated otherwise). Taken from: http://naruto.wbijam.pl/, [2015, 08, 26].

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

MY BOY HAS REACHED THAT AGE WHEN HE WANTS TO DO THE DRIVING:

ON FATHERS AND CARS

UKASZ SALSKI

Inspiration

I came across Leo Dangle’s “Men and Boys” when my teenage son got interested in driving. For some reason, I had not really paid attention to this poem going through Dangle’s volume a couple of years earlier.

My boy has reached that age when he wants to do the driving. Near noon, as we go home with a load of bales, he drives the tractor, and I stand on the drawbar behind him. At a corner on the gravel road, we meet a neighbor, a passenger like me, his boy behind the wheel, and we stop to talk. While the tractors idle and we discuss the moisture level in alfalfa bales, I notice the boys are taking turns making little pulls on the throttles, revving the motors. That power in their hands, they can't get over it, passing sly smiles between each other. My neighbor takes a sideways look at what the boys are doing,

Chapter Seventeen

218

but we keep talking about hay, pretending not to notice so we don't have to tell them to knock it off. 1

Vehicles and driving have always been an important part of my life; and the first vehicle I have ever driven was a tractor. Yet, to understand and appreciate Dangle’s poem, it was not enough to have seen someone ride standing on a drawbar, or even to have done that myself; and it did not help to remember having felt that thrill of competition between kids. However, it made a huge difference to realize the existence of a special bond between myself and my son. So, when I read Dangle’s poem for the second time, his story was so much more meaningful to me than it had been before—I could picture myself in his shoes, standing on the sole-polished steel of the drawbar of a trailer, with my hands clasped firmly over the back of the seat occupied by my son proudly driving the tractor. Looking at the scene from behind his back, like Dangle, I also recognized myself in front of me, some thirty years earlier, having tasted control over a powerful roaring giant for the first time in my life. I knew how both the father and the son felt, and I realized that one of the dimensions of the bond between me and my son is our fascination with machines. Vehicles and driving are a common topic in our conversations; in fact, some of these conversations do not even require words.

In this paper I want to point to what I now see much more clearly: that in literature and cinema, tractors, cars, or trucks can function as a lens through which relations between fathers and children are depicted and examined. Authors may use the motif of various vehicles, as well as driving or learning to drive, to display and amplify relations between family members on two planes. First, vehicles form the setting for presenting characters and relations among them; second, they may themselves evoke fathers’ and children’s emotions, such as fascination, desire, concern, or even fear. Either way, a vehicle can reinforce the presentation, and perception, of positive or negative relations between fathers and their offspring.

Vehicles in the background

In a number of literary works and movies vehicles serve the function of focusing the reader’s attention on the relations between characters who are members of one family, or even strangers who, in fact, take up the roles of fathers and sons. The vehicles that accompany them reflect and stress the

On Fathers and Cars 219

nature of their relationship, often relying on stereotypical associations with different kinds of vehicles.

A motor vehicle is the obvious background for the odyssey of Steinbeck’s characters in Grapes of Wrath. As Tom Joad returns home from jail, he finds his father working on an old Hudson Super-Six sedan, converting it into a pickup truck, which will soon help the whole family move to California. “Joad hooked his fingers over the lowest bar of the truck side. He looked up at the aging, graying man on the truck. He wet his thick lips with his tongue, and he said softly, ‘Pa’”(Steinbeck 1961, 66). While it is obvious that the old sedan is the only vehicle the Joads can afford, the scene also foreshadows the transitory moment in the history of the family, and the changing nature of the father-son relationship. Just as the sedan is transformed into a truck to allow the Joads’ transfer to California, so does Tom become the head of the family, which is shown by the fact that he does most of the driving. The journey becomes his road to independence—he breaks his parole to take full responsibility for himself and for his family. On the road, he also becomes sensitive to the inequalities and injustice in the American society in the times of the Great Depression: “I been thinkin’ a hell of a lot, thinkin’ about our people livin’ like pigs, an’ the good rich lan’ laying fallow, or maybe one fella with a million acres, while a hunderd thousan’ farmers is starving’” (Steinbeck 1961, 384). Tom takes the steering wheel in his hands to drive his family to their promised land, and himself to freedom and an independent, meaningful life. At this point in his life, his father could not do much apart from helping build the makeshift truck. The nails he drove into the sides of the truck were crucial for Tom’s metamorphosis, but they only initiated the process which developed on the road, with Tom behind the wheel.

To a lesser extent a truck functions as a background for Micha ’s relations with his daughter in Prawo ojca (Father’s Right), a movie by Marek Kondrat. Micha ’s life has always been connected with driving. He gave up car racing after his wife died in an accident; now, as a driver of a semi, Micha spends little time home with his teenage daughter. When he fails to return home in time for her birthday, disaster is imminent. Blaming himself for the harm done to his daughter, Micha decides not only to bring the malefactors to justice himself. The prosecutor’s words, “You are not the court,” trigger his solemn declaration “I’m a father.” He tells his daughter, “You will never be alone again. I won’t leave you. I’ll get another job, I promise.” (Kondrat, Prawo Ojca). Indeed, later on in the movie he only drives a station wagon to take his daughter to her refuge in his friend’s cottage. Compared to a velocious race car, or a powerful semi, a station wagon is dull and clumsy, but it is a symbol of stability and

Chapter Seventeen

220

responsibility. Seeing Micha in a family car, the viewer is reassured that he chose family over car racing or truck driving.

In Tobias Wolff’s short story Powder, the traditional father and son roles seem to be reversed. The reasons why the father has to “fight for the privilege to see his son” (1997, 302) become clear when the reader realizes how far he is from the model of a father. Disorganized and irresponsible, he is completely different from the boy’s mother, and—in fact—from the boy himself, who is very organized and planning ahead. When the father realizes he will not be able to bring the boy back to his mother on time, he decides to take a road which has been closed due to heavy snowfall. Clearly, he is not a model of responsibility, but he is also far from putting his son’s health at risk—he makes sure the boy is warm enough, and he knows he can totally rely on his car. Obviously, he is also absolutely confident in his driving skills, so when he decides to break the rules, he does not take a chance—he simply knows they are both perfectly safe. He tells his son “Don’t ever try this yourself” (303), but he does show him that life is not only about abiding by the rules, that sometimes acting spontaneously is not completely bad, and may be necessary. The boy, on the other hand, manages to relax, and enjoys the adventure as he admires his father’s driving. The father exerts influence on his son during the extraordinary wintry drive partly because it is such a big change from his reasonable daily life. Obviously, the car is part of it. Austin Healey, an extravagant two-seater with a wooden steering wheel—a concept completely opposite to the station wagon driven by Micha in Father’s right—encapsulates the father’s attitude to life, as well as his distance from his family. Still, it is fun to ride in, and the son is impressed; so, his father’s Austin Healey contributes to the bond between father and son, not because it means security, but because it is part of a memorable trip. The Austin Healey, as part of men’s world, becomes the basis for the boy’s, as it were, initiation into manhood and release from his mother’s care.

The main character of Road to Perdition, a movie by Sam Mendes, is a gangster and a loving father. He does not want his son to follow in his footsteps, but fails to keep his profession secret from his son. Still, the boy does not learn to shoot; instead, his father teaches him to drive. This allows them to avoid being caught, but it is also the beginning of their road trip. Later, after the father’s death, the son drives their car to the farm where they hid when being chased. The car not only allowed them to escape and enjoy their trip together. It contributed to their common experience, but even more importantly, the car defined their relationship. After his father’s death, the car—and not a gun—becomes the boy’s inheritance and the most important lesson of life. The car, and the skill of


driving, which he learned from his father, save his life and allow him to turn a new page as he drives back to the old couple who offered him and his father shelter. There he starts a new life on a farm. Thus the car connects the boy’s future with his happy days he spent on the farm with his father. It is the boy’s redemption, and at the same time it helps define both the boy and his gangster father as positive characters.

In Fate of a Man, a movie by Sergei Bondarchuk, based on a story by Mikhail Sholohov, a father-son relationship begins in a truck cab. Sokolov, a war veteran who lost his whole family during the war offers a ride to an orphan boy. The two characters are united by their traumatic experience, and this is stressed by the fact that they ride in a ZIS 5, a famous Soviet World War 2 truck, now hauling goods for the rebuilding economy. The characters’ similar hair and facial expressions are easily visible, even though they are not related, their common past is in a way also visible, because it is reflected by the ZIS truck. Sokolov asks the boy about his family and where he now lives, and, having heard the answer finally announces “I’m your father.” The boy is overjoyed, but in fact they both equally need each other—whether for basic everyday sustenance, or for a feeling of sense and direction in life. Of all the vehicles one could think of, this truck is the best means of bringing these two strangers into a family; for each of them the truck is a link between his past and the future, which helps overcome the atrocities of war, and start a new life.

Objects of desire

A number of films and novels feature characters for whom vehicles—whether they can attain them or not—mean much more than everyday items. As a consequence, the plot revolves around, or complicates in relation to these vehicles. In these works the familiar stereotypical male fascination with cars and other vehicles comes into play.

In Rain Man, a movie by Barry Levinson, a 1949 Buick Roadmaster is more than a means of transport, or even a classic. Charlie and Raymond drive it across the US, so in this sense it functions as background for their trip; however, it has also been an object of desire of all the men in the family ever since their father bought it. Charlie, who imports Lamborghinis to California, is having financial problems, so when he learns that all he inherited after his father’s death are his rose bushes and the old Buick Roadmaster, he goes berserk. He has driven the Buick only once in his life, without his father’s permission; and although his father knew it was Charlie who took the car, he reported theft to the police and let his own son get arrested. When Charlie finds out that all his father’s money goes to

Chapter Seventeen

222

a mental institution, he decides to go all the way to Cincinnati, Ohio to find out who the beneficiary is. He is surprised to find out that he has an autistic elder brother, and even more so to hear Raymond recite the technical specifications of their father’s car. When Raymond announces: ‘Father says I’m an excellent driver’ (Levenson, Rain Man), it turns out that their father let Raymond drive the Buick when he came to visit him at the hospital. Charlie is furious and he badly needs money because his business is not doing well, so he makes a desperate decision to kidnap his brother and demand that he receives half the estate which, he believes, he is entitled to. Gradually, as the brothers drive across the continent, a bond between them develops. The road trip which they make in their father’s Buick, appears to be a turning point in Charlie’s life, and the car, jealously guarded from Charlie, and at the same time so easily available to Raymond, unites Charlie with his brother, but also with the father himself—however, after his death. Through the car, the father makes up for what he did not manage to do in his life, and teaches his younger son an important lesson about life. His decision to bequeath his 1949 Buick Roadmaster to his son, a modern European muscle car dealer, turns out to be probably the wisest of his decisions regarding his family. And together with the Buick he gives Charlie not only a brother, but also a new set of values.

In turn, Arnie Cunningham’s obsession with his car goes far beyond a case of teenage rebellion. Leaving aside the fact that King’s Christine is a horror story—at times quite a violent one—the blood-thirsty car plays a significant role also in defining the characters and their relations. Seen from this perspective, Arnie’s irrational fascination with the car exemplifies typical teenage behavior, and the reaction of his relatives and friends, who are much more reasonable, is—in fact—typical. It is totally understandable that his parents, girlfriend, and best friend are worried about him. However, out of the people surrounding him, it is his father who has some understanding for his passion. On the one hand, Michael has more experience with cars, and he knows how much work and money it will cost to restore his son’s ’58 Plymouth Fury. That is why he offers to buy Arnie a good used car if he gives up, or in fact breaks up with, Christine. On the other hand, when Arnie insists, Michael is much more understanding and supportive than his wife. When Arnie makes progress on his project, his father frankly admits, “This thing runs like a dream” (King 1983, 182). Michael sees that Arnie has set his mind on restoring the car, and he appreciates his determination and consistency, so when his wife refuses to allow their son to park Christine on the driveway, he finds parking space outside town so that Arnie does not have to give up on the


car. Still, when Arnie’s obsession goes beyond all reason, as a caring father, Michael maintains cold blood and can sense that because of Christine, his son loses control over his life. He wants to prevent a disaster: “’You listen,’ Michael said, ‘I’m your father, so you listen to me. Your mother was right, Arnie. You’ve gotten unreasonable—more than unreasonable—in the last couple of months. You’ve gotten downright peculiar’” (King 1983, 184). Christine could, eventually, bring Arnie and Michael together if she was a regular classic Plymouth. As a furious monster, possessive and jealous of any attention Arnie shows any human, she separates the son from his father.

The movie Scent of a Woman is a story of a student Charlie Simms living away from home who agrees to look after blind colonel Frank Slade while his family is away. Eventually, the secretive officer turns into a devoted friend, and a father-like figure who stands up for Charlie when he is suspected of cheating at college. On the other hand, thanks to Charlie, colonel’s two dreams can come true. First, he gets to dance the tango because Charlie gives him coordinates of the dance floor. Then, Charlie rents a Ferrari, and they employ a similar procedure when colonel drives and Charlie directs him from the passenger’s seat. At last, colonel can make his dream come true—behind the wheel the distrustful, harsh man becomes open and cheerful. These moments are also particularly important to Charlie—his initial fear of colonel gives way to admiration, as the blind man shows him how life can be enjoyed. An unexpected parallel can be drawn between the colonel and Sokolov in Fate of a Man. Both lonely men become father-like figures to boys who need their support. Yet, at the same time they both need these relationships, because it is in them that they find what has been missing in their lives.

Harry Crew’s novel Car features a whole family obsessed with cars. Easy Mack, the father, has a car-wrecking company and drives a truck which he put together from parts of multiple makes and models. His daughter Junelle drives a wreck truck, and his son Mister creates a display of American automobile history, where guests can reminisce about their past getting inside old cars. Herman, Mister’s twin brother, is a dreamer. He comes up with an idea to eat a car: literally to swallow and then pass a whole 1971 Ford Maverick bit by bit, bumper to bumper. He turns this idea into a televised reality show, which after initial success loses popularity, and finally Herman announces that he cannot eat any more car. He has pushed it to the extreme—a car cannot become car, i.e. food; likewise, man’s fascination with cars cannot go beyond reason. The novel is an ironic parody of the American’s obsession with the automobile, but also criticizes the changes in the society, drawing attention to the crisis of

Chapter Seventeen

224

the family. Herman Mack goes far beyond what anyone could call typical, or even excessive, interest in or dreams of cars. His scheme proves unfeasible and eventually fails. It is contrasted with Easy and Mister’s admiration for Cadillac cars. They carefully watch the Cadillac wrecks in Easy’s junk yard, and especially in Mister’s crusher; eventually they can afford a Cadillac of their own, but then in order to save their dream they have to combat a persistent squeaking sound in the suspension. In fact, the whole Mack family is doomed. Herman has always been an eccentric, so is—in fact—his masculine sister Junelle. It would seem that Easy and Mister are more typical with their dream of a Cadillac, an embodiment of perfection, but when this fails, Easy cannot cope with his life. Does he blame himself for transmitting the automobile disease to his children?

Driving away from here

Cars, trucks, tractors, motorcycles have become such an obvious part of our everyday life and culture that they have to appear in works of fiction that depict social reality. It is only natural that in literature and film, for years, they have reflected the role they play in human relations. Allen Samuels (2002) observes that “modern humans not only live in a car world, they live in the public culture of the car” (51). He argues that the car “is nearly always an icon of disfavor because the writers of imaginative literature, of novel and poem and drama, perceive […] its potential of dehumanization” (52). This is not a general truth about all instances of cars in literature, and in the cinema the car as an icon takes on a much wider spectrum of meanings. The motorcycle may symbolize independence (as, for example, in Easy Rider), and the truck may be associated with professional life or rebuilding the country’s economy after the war. Likewise, one of the roles the car—as a family vehicle—can be assigned in popular culture may be to mirror or even define relations within families.

The father-car connection seems equally natural, even though it is an overgeneralization to say that in life it is typically fathers who introduce young people to cars. Following this stereotype, when cars appear in works of fiction, it is father characters who are associated with the vehicles and who pass their knowledge of cars, driving skills, or the vehicles themselves, on to their children. Consequently, one way to portray father-child relationships may be by linking different parenting models with the common associations certain types of vehicles evoke in society. A responsible father drives a station wagon, both in life and in a movie; someone who insists on driving a fancy sports car is less likely to


abide by the highway code, so he is not a model father (which does not mean that he is useless, either as a father or as a character).

Now, my younger son has reached “that age when he wants to do the driving,” and the elder one wants to do the fixing. Either way, it is fun to spend time together. On the other hand, I realize that this paper is about cars first of all because of me; if I was hooked on sailing or hunting, it could be about sailing boats or rifles—whatever my boys would have picked up from me. However, it would still be about being a father, and I am perfectly aware of the fact that other fathers have made similar observations involving other common objects which for them may rise to the status of an icon. After all, what we pass on to our children is not only objects and skills, but first of all attitudes and beliefs.

Works Cited

Crews, Harry. Car. New York: William Morrow and Co., 1983. Dangel, Leo. “Men and Boys.” In The Crow on the Golden Arches. 7.

Granite Falls, MN: Spoon River Press, 2004. Easy Rider. Directed by Dennis Hopper. Performed by Dennis Hopper,

Peter Fonda, and Jack Nicholson. United States: Columbia Pictures, 1969. DVD.

Fate of a Man. Directed by Serge Bondarchuk. Performed by Serge Bondarchuk. Soviet Union: Mosfilm, 1959. DVD.

King, Stephen. Christine. New York: Signet, 1983. Prawo ojca. Directed by Marek Kondrat. Performed by Marek Kondrat,

Nina Rogu , Ma gorzata Foremniak. 1999. Poland: Vision Film Distribution. DVD.

Rain Man. Directed by Barry Levinson. Performed by Dustin Hoffman, Tom Cruise. MGM, 1988. DVD.

Road to Perdition. Directed by Sam Mendes. Performed by Tom Hanks, Tyler Hoechkin. Dream Works, 2002. DVD.

Samuels, Allen. “Accidents: The Car and Literature.” In Autopia: Cars and Culture, edited by Peter Wollen and Joe Kerr, 50-58. London: Reaktion Books, 2002.

Scent of a Woman. Directed by Martin Brest. Performed by Al Pacino, Chris O'Donnell, and James Rebhorn. United States: MCA Universal Home Video, 1992. DVD.

Steinbeck, John. The Grapes of Wrath. Mitchum: Penguin Books, 1961. Wolff, Tobias. “Powder.” In The Best American Short Stories 1997, edited

by E. Annie Proulx. 301-304. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1997.

Chapter Seventeen

226

Notes 1 Dangle, “Men and Boys.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

FROM TARZAN TO HOMER SIMPSON: BANALIZATION AND MASCULINE VIOLENCE

IN CONTEMPORARY SOCIETIES

SÓCRATES NOLASCO When I began to listen to the men who participated in the study groups organized by the 24hr Father Program, I realized they mentioned violent situations in their statements.1 They did not have an awkward reaction, it was something natural for them. A 45-year-old divorced man, father of two sons, said: “I know that a man knows he will, in his life, encounter violence in some way; I learnt this, and today I know that what does not kill me makes me stronger, and that makes me feel like a man” (emphasis mine). Is there a correlation between that statement and the existing statistics in Brazil and abroad, in reference to male involvement in violent situations?2 With the intention of quantitatively defining the panorama of the reasons that “kill” men, I found some data I consider relevant. The rate of male involvement in violent situations, with and without death, provided clear evidence that the violence curve profile is defined by the male population, whether men are in the position of aggressor or victim.

How can we interpret this data? I use the concepts of sacrifice, sacrificial crisis, and the expiatory victim, elaborated by Girard as a resource for understanding the problem of violence in the cultural context. Later, I seek to identify the transformations that were taking place in culture in the transition to individualism, and how they impacted the subject’s social representation. In order to monitor them, I chose a cultural operator that has always been present in different historical times, and that can characterize the male social representation: the myths.

Faced with this scenario, it would be possible to ponder violence, contemplate it; but… what about the men? What was happening to them? As mentioned above, Edelman and Keleman offer a basis for systematization of my field of investigation. Through correspondence and conversations,

Chapter Eighteen

228

Keleman showed me the relationship between the feeling of impotence and male violence. According to him, impotence is learned. This confirmation emerged from his clinical practice with North American men, when he identified hostility as a passive aggressive expression of violence. He completes this reasoning pointing, as an additional factor, to the transformations developed by the technological revolution, a revolution with a definitive impact on the concept of human nature upon conceiving the cyborg (the junction of the best in the human race with the best of a machine) which also put at stake two important base elements of the traditional male representation: physical strength and virility.

In the West, a history of male social representation can be monitored through different narratives that, like myths, serve to describe its origin as well as transmitting social values from one generation to the next. In mythology we find tyrant gods, brave warriors and fearless travelers as some of the social representations that support the Greek world. Later we find modern heroes. They are less linked with the collective problematic and more identified to questions of the individual. We can speak of Don Juan, Faust, Crusoe and Don Quixote as stories around which the male social representation is built and lasts until the end of the XIX century.3

At the end of the XIX century we encounter what Le Rider denominated the identity crisis.4 The modern crisis, expressed by the identity crisis that devastated subjects after the 1900’s, particularly in respect to the representations of men and women, pointed to a need to reformulate social representations, to the extent that they would welcome such social change.

If these changes sought to confer the subject more autonomy and social liberty, we saw, at the same time, the sudden decline in everything that traditionally functioned as a promoter of a sense of community. This does not mean traditional societies were better than modern ones, but there existed in them a sense of community that gradually disappeared, and was replaced by another, impersonal one. The crisis of the modern world precipitated another model of society that stopped being normalized by tradition and started being normalized by politics, law, technology and the market.

In this kind of society the social representation of men and women became more and more similar to each other; that way, they demanded the empirical subject to adequate himself to what now regulated the parameter of social organization: the dynamic of differences. In these societies of difference, we can identify a decrease in the collective practices as much as a decrease in the idea of otherness.5 The society of difference eminently

Banalization and Masculine Violence in Contemporary Societies 229

constitutes itself by means of the political sphere, through the minority movements responsible for the reformulation of social identities.

These movements are the successors of the individualistic creed, and as a form of expression they oppose everything that traditionally defined their social role. With the example of Crusoe, the traditional became designated as that which opposes the new social order. This holds the individual as the moral value and no longer adopts the principle of hierarchy as an organizing element of culture.

Faced with this perspective and drawing on the dialectic of enlightenment6 I begin to contextualize changes that were consolidating themselves in modernity. The enlightenment focused on ridding the subject of fear, putting him in the master’s position. However, the enlightened society grew in gigantic proportions and shaped a disenchanted world. Its goal, the authors say, was to dissolve the myths and substitute imagination with knowledge. With this the myths of women, blacks and homosexuals were reformulated. To do so, it became necessary to invest in a social representation that resisted this change. Pinned as the exclusive heir to the traditional world, this representation became what had to be defeated. The minority movements are, in part, a fruit of these considerations that originated in the enlightenment.

Minorities seek a reformulation of the social identity of the subjects they represent, seeking new forms of inserting them socially, and so conferring them recognition and positive value. The male representation, however, was left without this correspondent in contemporary societies, since it was necessary for it to remain where it has always been, so it would be possible to maintain itself as the necessary counterpoint to emancipation, which is the minorities discourse.

The male social representation appears in studies as that which contains the characteristics of the traditional world that must be combated.7 For the enlightenment dialectic, all the mythic figures can be reduced to the same common denominator: the subject. To the extent that the collective is emptied, it leaves the empirical subject with the responsibility of adequating himself to the “new” world-view.

Considering the universality of the male presence in the history of wars, the relation between masculinity and violence is a constant and spans different moments in Western history. Wars and boxing are examples of situations in which men are authorized to kill and punch, and are socially awarded to do so. What can be considered new data in the contemporary panorama is a different form of violence, beyond war and boxing, that also unites the empirical subject of the male sex, without however, conferring value to his social representation: the high male death

Chapter Eighteen

230

rates in car accidents. In contemporary societies, masculinity as a marker of the empirical subject’s gender no longer has any use, and is being diluted and incorporated by subjects of both genders as a premise for the social agenda. I am referring to the emphasis put on competitiveness, performance and aggressiveness that ceased to be marks of masculinity in these societies and came to be expected from the female performance, too. Somehow, the codes of contemporary culture prescind from the male social representation, since the in vitro insemination and cloning are forms of considering it of secondary importance. This mechanism ends up bringing implications to the principles of otherness with its role in contemporary culture. After all, as Luis Fernando Veríssimo puts it, we are no longer in a society in which Tarzan, the 1920’s hero, is the vigorous masculine representation.8 But who is, in fact, Tarzan?

Tarzan contains aesthetic and moral qualities. He is considered an example of energy and virtue that constantly fabricates dreams in the collective imaginary. We can consider him a Greco-Roman mythological archetype of the child raised by animals.9 He is, however, the son of an aristocratic English couple, the Greystokes, who end up in a jungle after a shipwreck. The pregnant woman gives birth to a boy. She dies after labor, and soon after the father is killed by a troop of monkeys. Tarzan is then raised by Kala, a female monkey. It is the story of a popular novel about a mythological, classical, solitary hero, in which, according to Veríssimo, there are no women to confirm the hero’s world.

Edgar Rice Burroughs, Tarzan’s “father,” published his first book in 1912. The hero, however, only became famous in the USA some years before North America’s Great Depression in the 1930’s. During that time many men were unemployed and the male social statute began to decline. Tarzan could be considered a limited attempt to revitalize this “outmoded” social representation. He is a survivor. A master in all situations, he seeks to dominate the hostile environment. He is considered the winning hero in a culture that still values the visibility of the male social representation.

From the transition to individualism to current day we can observe some important changes in culture that have great impact on men. Around 200 years ago the warrior was very different from today’s soldier. The practices of war equated masculinity to violence and brutality, hence the connection of the warrior with the soul/psyche, present in Greek mythology hero figure, was lost. I consider violence an expression of the loss of this connection with the sacred, represented by historic memory of what it means to be a man.

From the 1920’s to the 1980’s, male representation collapses, and loses its characteristics. His value becomes associated with a bygone social


order no longer existent. Our hero has an identity crisis, he cannot find his “self”, his kinship, in nature or in culture. Tarzan, Jane or Cheetah.

The process of banalization of the male social representation intensifies, disseminating in the following years, by means of mass culture. The banalization now transcends the identity crisis, furthermore, it adds to the negative banalization of the hero’s actual physical structure. Tarzan’s physical vigor gives way to Homer Simpson’s brute force, or even Earl Sneed Sinclair from the television show, Dinosaurs. If Tarzan was the “lord of the jungle,” acting as a great protector of the jungle, Simpson is a king without a kingdom. 45 years old, married, middle class, three children, nothing more than a technology regulator. A heavy-eater, fat and bald, he loves drinking at Moe’s bar and watching television. He hates going to church and he hates his neighbor. If Tarzan still evokes physical vigor, making echoes of a kind of ontophany10 and consequently of a singularity, Homer Simpson is the eternally displaced person, a hero built by the forgetfulness and the negation of male vigor and virility that serves as an alibi to the age of the digitalization of subjectivity and its transformation into simulacrum.

In contemporary societies, I understand the relationship between violence and the male representation as a fruit of the banalization11 that this representation is exposed to. Gradually, with the dilution of the symbolic parameter on which traditional societies were structured on, the male social representation loses visibility. The rates of male involvement in violent situations grow in a society that prescinds from physical strength, substituting it with technological strength; a society that gave way to sexual reproduction and came to reproduce outside the body (cloning and techniques of human reproduction); that changed the labor relations.

When I began this study I thought of violence as a result of the excess of aggressive acts that exposed the subject to death. I later realized men are exposed to a different kind of death, more complex than the physical death, but just as important. I am referring to the death relative to their social representation. With this focus I began my efforts to understand what other meanings could be associated to the intense involvement of men in violent situations. What should men do with their warrior and hero memories? In relation to traditional inheritance, what should be dispensed? Could there be a purpose in contemporary culture to keep men involved in violent situations? If so, what is it?

Chapter Eighteen

232

About The Simpsons12

The first season of The Simpsons began in 1989. This series was considered the most important event in television in the 1990’s. In the mid 1980’s, The Simpsons appear as characters in a vignette on Fox. Later, in 1987, they became a fixed sketch inside a North American talk show, gaining popularity from there on, leading up to the show’s first season.

The Simpsons, in media jargon, are one of the most important representations of the contemporary North American family, and its lifestyle. The scripts for the series are created with cinematographic narratives in mind, and the themes are variations around the issues present in that society. However, the connection of the cinematographic script gained distinction with the incorporation of rock. The cinematographic citations are the essence of the show. References, literal citations, speeches or sequences are modes of inserting cinematographic language into the scripts, which use sources as varied as nouvelle vague and Cape Fear, like in the episode “The Threat.”13

Nowadays, the cinematographic language tells a story or narrates a journey through routes that sometimes challenge human comprehension. In doing so, this type of language performs a role similar to the storyteller, a metaphor by which one might achieve the density and the mysteries of the subject’s life. With the example of the myth, which is a special kind of story, cinema links gods, creative forces, and the subject’s life. Certainly not all contemporary stories are myths or reached mythical proportions, nonetheless, the stories told in cinema have a lot in common with the ancient inspiration that animates myths, particularly in what refers to certain thought mechanisms through which ideas and feelings of some human quality are tested. The structural standards and the archetypal characters of the myths are a base for certain modern narratives in cinema that are then adopted on the television show. The show pays tribute to scripts that vary in style and technical treatment.

An example of this is the episode Dog of Death (1992), a recreation of Stanley Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange. In this episode one of Santa’s helpers is brainwashed, in a similar way to the ultraviolent patients in Kubrick’s film. In the episode Lisa’s Pony (1991), the first part was taken from 2001- A Space Odyssey, in which Homer is a lazy monkey resting on the film’s monolith. Other episodes also allude to Kubrick’s films.

Citizen Kane, The Last Emperor, and Thelma and Louise were all used as references in some of the episodes. Cinema is not, however, the television show’s only reference. In the beginning, the themes addressed were focused around family values, and were introduced on the show


using common situations that were easily communicated, and impacted the viewer. As the show evolved and had been approved, other themes started being included: racism, adultery, religious fanaticism, homosexuality, corruption and corporate conventionalism. The language adopted by Matt Groening, the show’s creator, does not display moralistic or partisan characteristics. He intends to show bored hicks, easily manipulated by the media, politicians and religious leaders. The show did not cause as much of an impact in Brazil as it did in the USA. The rhythm and wealth of references were not enough to keep the Brazilian public’s attention.14

Some of the Show’s Characters

Springfield is one of the most common city names in the USA, and it is the name of the city where the Simpsons live. There are probably at least three Springfields in each state. Some studies about the show suggest this Springfield is in Illinois.

Coincidence or not, the tragedy that shook North America, involving a boy that got a rifle and drove to school to kill his schoolmates after killing his parents, happened in a city with the same name. This incident, which repeated itself in various cities in the USA, suggests that the mixture of prosperity, the cult of violence, intolerance and religious fanaticism promotes a winner-loser system that Americans informally apply to their lives and leads them to arm themselves more and more. In this culture, children learn very early that being a “loser” is the same as being dead. It is interesting to observe that what happened in a real “Springfield” corresponds to the symbolic death of the male social representation portrayed in the show’s Springfield. Both reveal a portrait of America.

The man of the family is called Homer J. Simpson. He represents the typical American: white, protestant, ignorant, frustrated, heterosexual, obese, and at the same time, a dedicated father and an affectionate husband.15 Homer is the safety inspector at sector 7G in a nuclear plant. He drinks a lot of beer while he watches television, and has a half-brother, a result of his father’s extra-marital relationship.

The nuclear power plant’s owner is called Charles Montgomery Burns. He is 90 years old and is considered the personification of evil in the show. He has an incalculable fortune, he is selfish, greedy and a knave. He is dishonest and fragile at the same time and has a loyal gay assistant who loves him, and has made Mr. Burns his only meaning in life.

Homer is considered crude, ill-mannered, impolite, lacking any sense of civility, a lazy man that sleeps most of the time at work. He is also portrayed as being absent-minded and incompetent, to such an extent as to

Chapter Eighteen

234

forget his own children’s names. He is considered one of the funniest characters in television history.

Homer’s father is called Abraham Simpson, his wife, Homer’s mother, left him very early on, and he raised his son with hardship. He has a disorderly life and lives in a nursing home.

Homer’s best friend is Barney Gumble. Barney is considered the ultimate barfly, a Norwegian alcoholic whose only goal is to drink. He is portrayed as slow and visibly affected by his long term use of alcohol. Homer has another friend, Larry, who appears in the episodes featuring Moe’s bar and he is continuously drunk.

When it comes to the neighbors, Ned Flanders and Ruth Power stand out. Flanders is a religious fanatic that represents a large portion of the American population. Powers is a divorced, single woman.

Another important character is Krusty. His name is Herschel Krustofsky and he works as a clown on television. Krusty is Jewish and of Polish descent. He became a clown against his family’s will. He is a natural player, illiterate and scheming. He is always unhappy.

Bart Simpson, the oldest son, is ten years old and he is in fourth grade. The word bart (from the name Bartholomew) being an anagram of brat, Bart is always involved in all sorts of mischief. He does not like studying and does badly at school. Above all, he likes skateboarding, tagging walls, and prank calling. He is a fan of Krusty the Clown and was elected the most influential cartoon character by Times magazine in 1999, beating Mickey and his crew. In this same study he is quoted as one of the top twenty most important people in the last decade. Bart is a bad-boy, an eternal teenager, a man without access to adulthood.

The women in the show have a different status. Marjorie Bouvier Simpson (Marge) is Homer’s wife, she is 44 years old and is a dedicated housewife and does not like change. She is considered the family’s center of balance, she always has pacifying and politically correct opinions; she is considered the inverse of Homer. Some say that if Homer evolves one day, he would become a Marge. Her chores range from fixing the garage door to changing diapers, and she is responsible for keeping the family united. She worked at the Plant with Homer once, and accused her boss of sexual harassment, which financed Homer’s trip to India. Her sisters considered her a brilliant student, intelligent with a bright, promising future until she met Homer, who, according to them, ruined her life.

Lisa is the couple’s second child. She is eight years old and is a prodigious girl. She is in second grade and is seen as the most intelligent in the family; she is cultured and well informed. The show portrays her as having inherited all of her characteristics from her mother, including her


sense of justice and dignity. She is always engaged in the family’s and city’s problems, she is respected by the entire cast. Some doubt whether she is the family’s biological daughter. She is affectionate, a goody-goody, and loves horses and the saxophone. She is always willing to help Bart get out of trouble.

Marge has two sisters: Patty and Selma Bouvier, twins, both single. Both hate Homer and are hostile towards him. Marge’s mother is eternally disappointed with her daughter for marrying Homer.

American cultural diversity is exhibited through the show’s other characters, in various stereotypes of foreigners, like Willie the Scottish gardener. Other male characters are the daft, corrupt and authoritarian police chief, two incompetent policemen, a swindling lawyer and an unscrupulous Spanish speaking doctor. They all contribute to the characterization of a biting, sarcastic portrayal of a superficial America, made of women of action and failed men.

The Simpsons is one more narrative about gender, where Homer embodies the male social representation in contemporary societies. Homer is the banalization of that representation and takes on a new male status for contemporary societies. The daily use of this representation is increasingly frequent. In that respect, there is a character in recent American cinema that corroborates Homer’s characteristics. His name is Lester, from the film American Beauty (1999), by Sam Mendes. Lester is a 40-year-old man, despised by his wife, disdained by his daughter, and seeks another meaning to his life outside the role of the fool.

Homer and Lester are characters created from the same source: the banalization and decharacterization of the male social representation. In regards to male characters, Homer’s stupidity, as well as Lester’s mediocrity, are two constants in contemporary narrative. The male characters in The Simpsons are decadent and authoritarian, whilst the female characters can be politically correct, aligned with current social and political tendencies.

Homer and Lester have plenty in common. Lester, however, is murdered, and Homer is not. American Beauty is above all a story told by a dead man, including the day of his death in his narration. Lester is murdered for trying to leave the role taken by Homer; in this story, however, he could not leave it, because it is necessary for him to perform the role of the fool and not another role. It is worth observing Lester is confronted with two types of violence in his life: one is empirical, his murder, the other is symbolic, in being treated as a loser.

The male social representation in contemporary society has been restricted to the characterization of a failure, Homer being an example of

Chapter Eighteen

236

this. In my analyses I interpret this restriction as an expression of one of the forms of violence in this kind of society. The loser is a subject that has lost his personal form, and so is incapable of decoding, comprehending, and acting in complex contexts; he is an anti-hero without vigor, vitality or strength. He is an anti-hero because he is not a winner, and in this kind of culture’s standards he must be eliminated.

Violence, then, appears as a possibility of meaning in the subject’s life, in the sense that it is necessary to make oneself present in order to perform violence, summoning one’s personal history as a profession of faith and by those means restituting one’s strength and vigor.

Homer is an important reference in the show. It is through him that Lisa’s intelligence and Marge’s sense of justice are potentialized and made even more made evident. Homer’s stupidity is necessary in order to maintain this type of family, in the same way, according to Girard, the “expiatory victim” is necessary in order to support the “group” cohesion.16

Works Cited

Abrapia (Multifunctional Brazilian Association of Protection of Childhood and Adolescence). “Relatório SOS – Denúncia.” Rio de Janeiro: O Globo, 1994.

—. “Relatório sobre negligência, maus-tratos e violência física.” Rio de Janeiro: Abrapia, 1999.

Archer, J. Male Violence. New York: Routledge, 1994. Gilmore, D. Manhood in the Making: cultural concepts of masculinity.

New Haven: Yale University Press, 1990. Berger, M., Wallis, B. & Watson, S. Constructing masculinity. New York:

Routledge, 1995. Brandão, J. Mitologia Grega. Petrópolis: Vozes, 1986. Campbell, J.K. “ El honor y el Diablo.” In El concepto del honor en la

sociedad mediterrânea. Barcelona: Editorial Labor, 1968. Corneau. G. Pai Ausente, Filho Carente. São Paulo: Brasiliense, 1990. Eliade, M. Mefistófeles e o Andrógino. São Paulo: Martins Fontes, 1991. Foucault, M. Vigiar e Punir. Petrópolis: Vozes, 1984. Girard. R. A Violência e o Sagrado. São Paulo: Editora UNESP, 1990. Keleman, S. Myth & the Body. Berkeley: Center Press, 1999. Lacroix, J. Paternité et Democracie. Paris: Esprit, 1947. Mosse, G. The Image of Man. New York: Oxford University Press, 1996. Nolasco, S. O Mito da Masculinidade. Second edition. Rio de Janeiro:

Rocco, 1995. —. A Desconstrução do Masculino. Rio de Janeiro: Rocco, 1995.


—. De Tarzan a Homer Simpson: banalização e violência masculina em sociedades ocidentais. Rio de Janeiro: Rocco, 2000.

—. Identidade Masculina. Rio de Janeiro: PUC/RJ, 1988.

Notes

1 The men that participated in the activities were between 35 and 45 years old, they were mostly divorced parents, with higher education and middle class. The statements were collected at the meetings promoted by the masculinity Focus Groups, following Vancouver’ Groups manual/guide, elaborated by Gervase Bushe in 1992. 2 See statistical data Brazilian Institute of Geography and Statistics (IBGE). 3 Watt, Ian. 1997. Myths of Modern Individualism: Faust, Don Quixote, Don Juan, Robinson Crusoe. UK: Cambridge University Press. 4 Le Rider, Jaques. 2000. Modernité viennoise et crises de l' identité. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France. 5 See Baudrillard, Jean. 1981. Simulacres et Simulation. Paris: Éditions Galilée, and The Perfect Crime (1995). 6 Adorno, Theodor W. & Horkheimer, Max. 1947. Dialectic of Enlightenment. USA: Stanford University Press. 7 See Beauvoir, Simone de. 1949. Le Deuxième Sexe. Paris: Gallimard, and Wolf, Naomi. 1990. The Beauty Myth. New York : W. Morrow. 8 We see our present situation in this vigorous masculinity, in conversation with the cinematographer Tetê Moraes, with her argument for a film that deals with such issues, but through the lens of a Woody Allen type Tarzan. 9 A reference to the story of the children of Rhea Silvia and Mars that were abandoned by Amulius’ command, put in a basket and dropped in the river Tiber. They were found in the river, breastfed by a she-wolf and protected by a woodpecker. Later they were taken in by a shepherd and grew to be strong and brave. 10 Mircea Eliade uses many terms in and from several languages in his classic book, The Sacred and the Profane (Harvest/HBJ, 1959), which applied Rudolf Otto's theory of numinosity to a variety of religious phenomena. 11 In this text I use the word banalization to refer to a type of violence that reveals greater power than weapons, and promotes the symbolic death of the male social representation. 12 Some data about the series was taken from The Simpson Archive, created by Fox and made available on the Internet by Ezequiel Siqueira. The dates of when the episodes were aired refer to the American schedule. 13 Matt Groenig, who created the series, and members of his team were screenwriters for Hollywood for many years, giving the Simpsons cinematic characteristics. 14 In the series we do however, come across a reference to Xuxa, when the television presenter, Krusty, has a Christmas reunion on television with various mediocre television personalities, among whom is a South American attraction:

Chapter Eighteen

238

Xoxchetla. Krusty can hardly pronounce the name and reflects on the failure of trying to introduce Xuxa to the USA. In the episode Cartridge Family (1998), Pelé is mentioned. Those are the two Brazilian participants in the series. 15 Being a dedicated father and a caring husband are desired characteristic in the “new man.” This character indicates that these qualities emerge from a failed subject, a loser. 16 GIRARD, René, op. cit.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

HORNED, EMPEROR, POPE: FATHERS IN DIVINATION HANDBOOKS1

TOMASZ PIASECKI Mother and father are among the most common figures used in the symbolic matrix of the human communicative space (Bartmi ski 2006, 151; Smyk 2010, 131). Even marginal knowledge of cultural texts, originating from different civilizational backgrounds separated by time and space is enough to prove that parenthood is one of the key epistemological cliches and constructs used to create reality. High position and active axiologization of the mother and father figures is confirmed by their presence in the most important religious conceptualizations of reality. Mythologies of the most influential religious movements in the world use the metaphor of birth when they portray teo-, cosmo- and anthropogony. Within such a spectrum a concept of divine parents was developed. The concept of divine parents occupied a central position in the construction of pantheon and played a vital role in cultic practices. By looking at the old and contemporary mythologies one can find numerous examples of divine parents – Egyptian Isis and Ozyris, Greek Gaia and Zeus, or Christian Jahwwe and Mary. Similar examples can be found in contemporary neopagan religions which also use the abovementioned symbolism – Wiccan Triple Goddess and her companion the Horned God-father. Their high position in the axiological hierarchy is confirmed by a large number of phrasal verbs, idioms and sayings created by lexems mother and father2, which are highly represented in cultural symbolism3.

Subject and the primary objective of the article

The subject of the following article is the analysis of a linguistic image of the father4 contained in contemporary divination handbooks. The author focuses on Polish texts. Those texts concentrate on cultural analysis of the

Chapter Nineteen

240

family5 and comprise a part of the overall research devoted to fatherhood, which, in itself, is rather scarcely represented in the academic discourse. The primary objective of the analysis was the recognition of linguistic techniques used to describe father figures in mantic didactic texts and implied cultural content (with an emphasis on stereotypization and references to other cultures). The secondary objective of the analysis was to check whether the portrayal of father figures is homo- or heterogenic, as well as whether the peculiar mantic disciplines represent different models of father figure and fatherhood.

Social circumstances for the development of mantic discourse

In the contemporary world, divination is one of the most frequantly updated communication rituals (as popular as the prayer and other religious speech genres). Reading the future during mantic rituals is encountered in almost every culture in the world (Grzywa 2010, 99-108). The profession of a fortune teller became increasingly popular with the crisis of the two modes of narration – science and religion. Moreover, the astrologist and the divinator are legally registered professions6. Moving the activities of fortune tellers, astrologists and divination parlours to the Internet and television increased the availability of those services and the potential number of recipients (Grzywa 2010, 107).

Professional education of fortune tellers is in the process of formalization7, because of that most people who practice fortune-telling are self-taught. In order to help them, various publishing houses constantly release new handbooks on the market. These handbooks are self-study books and manuals whose purpose is to provide basic knowledge regarding the use of fortune telling tools. The most popular handbooks are tarot handbook and horoscope handbooks (they encompass 75% of the market)8. Publications regarding different methods of fortune telling, for example, reading future from runes, hiromancy, crystalomancy, celtic ogham signs, Lenormand cards, geomancy, numerology and classic cards, are more visible on the market in the recent years9, however, they can be still treated as niche titles.10

The aforementioned handbooks create separate and independent patterns of the world, they gather, solidify and reproduce a unique cultural matrix, which is used for the mantic practice by its recipients (Piasecki 2013: 172-3). Such matrix is relatively monolithic. The relativity of the matrix stems from the fact that, on the one hand, it is supported by the necessity of retaining coherency and compatibility between mantic signs in handbooks

Horned, Emperor, Pope: Fathers in Divination Handbooks 241

describing a particular fortune telling specialty (due to the need of decoding the text by the recipient it is assumed that handbooks of specific disciplines should represent similar interpretative perspective of foretelling signs) and, on the other hand, the relativity undergoes destabilization due to the possibility of personal opinions of authors appearing in the text, as well as predetermined cultural stereotypes connected with a specific mantic discipline or creative environment of the writer of the text.11 Questions thus arise, in what way and to what degree the differences in the representation of fathers and fatherhood appear in the aforementioned handbooks, since the extra-linguistic reality, which the mantic signs describe, does not change. Can thus the linguistic-cultural analysis show the motivation behind these differences?

Sample and basis of analysis

The research was based on 10 fortune telling handbooks representing the most popular specialist variants included in the publication catalogue and, what follows, the most meaningful element of the esoteric discourse in Polish communicative space, in terms of quantity. They were chosen mainly because of the role they have played on the esoteric book market (the highest number of editions and reissues) as well as due to the extensive narrative and the representative function compared with model fortune telling handbooks. Handbooks typical for the niche methods (Celtic ogham, classical cards) are included in the materials to make them more diverse (but also to compare them). It is also important to note that the presence of only one didactic title in the reading catalogue makes its influence on creating the linguistically-cultural dimension of this particular fortune telling method a crucial one, and should therefore be included in the source text corpus.

Analysed handbooks are mainly (7 titles) ethnically Polish. The materials are divided as follows: 5 tarotmancy handbooks (Tarot. 78 kart do wró b i przepowiedni Edyta G dek12, Interpretacja tarota Alla Alicja Chrzanowska13, Droga tarota14 and Klucze do tarota15 Hajo Banzhafa, Tarot Jonathan Dee16), 3 nordic runs fortune telling handbooks (Kompletny przewodnik runiczny Lisa Peschel17, Misterium Run Alla Alicja Chrzanowska18, Runy. Mistyczny dar Odyna Maria Piasecka19), 1 Celtic ogham fortune telling handbook (Wyrocznia celtycka Leszek Matela20) and 1 classical cards fortune telling handbook (Wró enie z kart klasycznych ze szczypt zdrowego rozs dku Maria Piasecka21).

The lack of balance existing among different themes of the analysed handbooks should be explained as, on the one hand, trying to represent the

Chapter Nineteen

242

quantitative aspect of the esoteric book catalogue in Poland, but on the other, as linked to the lack of publications related to fortune telling, other than runes and the Tarot (the case in point – Matela's book is one of the two books published in Poland devoted to the Organic oracle). All of the books analysed in the following paper were published in the years 1997-2014 by Polish publishing houses (in total 5 publishing houses). Texts which were originally published in English were not published earlier than 1980, whereas their translations appeared in a relatively short time (about 10 years). This allows to recognize the linguistic material procured from the above mentioned handbooks (in the research taking into account only the Polish translation of the books) as belonging to the contemporary variety of Polish (including the existence of lexis from the professional jargon).

The fragments related to the notion of fathers and fatherhood, and more generally parenthood as such, have been selected from the collected texts (especially where it is impossible to unequivocally decide which sex the parent is)22. Next, the lexis connected with the reconstructed images has been extracted from the fragments and then analysed regarding the use of these elements which create a specific image of fatherhood.23 Not only has denomination of the first degree been taken into account (father, parent), but also formal-semantic derivatives (e.g. patriarchate). The lexical material has been assigned to the following meaning schemata (Bartmi ski 2006, 85-87): the physical qualities of the fathers, psychological qualities of the fathers, fathers' behaviour and the actions undertaken by them, different manifested behaviours, and the attitude of the others towards the fathers. Due to the limited scope of the analysed corpus, the nouns (describing the fathers) were isolated from the collected handbooks, the verbs and gerund forms (naming the activities performed by the fathers and directed towards them), adjectives and adverbs (indicating the qualities attributed to fathers and linked to the fathers in a wider context). The above mentioned formal division of the lexis is illustrated in the presented meaning schemata.

Father – polisemy and synonymy of the lexeme

In the collected research material the polisemy of the lexeme father is used. S ownik j zyka polskiego PWN provides 6 definitions of this entry:

1. "a man who has his own child or children" 2. "a male animal which has offspring" 3. "the one who created, invented, initiated something or was someone's

role model, inspiration, etc."


4. "familiarly about own husband, the father of children or an older man" 5. "in Christianity: God" 6. "a title used in some of the orders to talk about a monk"

The meaning number 2 has not been included in the paper. The

meaning number 6 has been referred to only twice, in a modified way (the father in question is not a monk but a priest). Fortune telling handbooks use the lexeme father mainly to talk about male parent (1), to name a male guardian deity (5 – modified), and a founder or an initiator of something (3). Once the meaning 4 of the lexeme father has been noticed. Mainly, lexeme father is used in its meaning of a biological parent or a person fulfilling that role, more rarely the role of the initiator or the founder (16%), naming a deity in that way is sporadic.24As the name of a priest, father appears only 2 times. The use of the lexeme in the meanings 5 and 6 can be explained by the influence of a Christian culture and a lexical-pragmatic loan translation from Latin, which has been transferred to the Polish communicative reality: Deus Pater – Bóg Ojciec, pater – ‘father,’ which continues to exist, however as a rather rare lexeme naming monks, which developed its semantic meaning and is polonized as father (ojciec duchowny) which can relate to any Christian priest (por. bia . ‘batiuszka’, ros. ‘otiec’).

A few words should be devoted to the synonymy of the lexeme father in the analysed material. Fortune telling handbooks mainly use the word ojciec. Rarely existing synonyms are parent (4 uses) and dad (1 use in the material). Father is a neutral lexeme, both stylistically and emotionally. A parent is a form used in official texts (rodzic or opiekun prawny), whereas dad – as a tender form – exists mostly in private communication. Quantitative domination of father is natural in functional didactic texts.

Mothers and fathers – qualitative-quantitative inequality

Fortune telling handbooks often relate in their narration to the motives of family and parenthood. This sphere of life plays an important role in the world created in mantic texts (most likely because of its clear cultural marking of the family in the extralinguistic reality). In the collected research material almost 600 (594) contexts have been observed, in which the parent motif has been used (the number does not include the coexistence of mother and father, or these cases in which the parents' sex is unclear). These are not only specific characters, existing in the extralinguistic reality of the recipient (try to remember your mother; that's exactly what our parents have been doing), but also the metaphorical representations (as a good mother taking care of her children). What is

Chapter Nineteen

244

interesting, the father figure is given very little attention in the analysed handbooks. Out of nearly 600 pictures parent and parenthood in the analysed material (direct and indirect), almost 500 (497) are related to motherhood and mother figures. Parenthood sensu largo,without any clear sex distinction (e.g.an overprotective parent) is present only a few times (6). Only from single and separate from one another linguistic representations of the father two exact, internally coherent models can be reconstructed, which are clearly and unequivocally contrasted. When it comes to human reproductiveness or family life, fortune telling handbooks decidedly more often concentrate on the female aspects of this sphere of life. In some of the handbooks (e.g. by Matela and Peschel) fathers were mentioned only once, which makes these contexts underdeveloped.25 This tendency is visible also in the terms connected with these metaphors mother and father. Women appearing in the Tarot or in classical cards are usually described by the authors not in terms of their family functions, whereas in the description of men their biological, procreational potential is left over. The use of a female figure in the text links her mainly to the emotional-family relationship (most often as a mother or a wife, rarely as a lover or partner), and male figures, in most cases – professional (employer, supervisor), educational (master, mentor) and partner relationship (lover, companion). The imagery of man as a father in the analysed material is much less frequent than in these social roles. The depictions of man as a parent do not position themselves in the centre of his linguistically-cultural imagery (which is in contrast to the tendency to present women as mothers). The prototypical fortune telling handbooks linked family life and procreation with females. The low number of appearances of the word father (especially in juxtaposition with the very frequent use of other male figures, e.g. rivals or teachers) proves the lack of link between the family roles and men26. The possibility of being a man positioned at the linguistic peripheries of the depiction of men.

Linguistic dominance of motherhood over fatherhood in terms of frequency points to the more important role of the former aspect of parenthood in the cultural concept of man. The quantitative comparison of the diversity of motherhood and fatherhood depictions in the analysed material is accompanied also by a qualitative dominance, which is visible in a higher number of possible linguistic contexts. The imagery of others relates to a bigger group of extralinguistic reality than the imagery of fathers. The mother figure is referred to e.g. in a biological relationship of the succeeding generations (mother – a person who gave birth to a human), the personification of a natural world and a metaphor of agrarian cults (Mother Nature, Mother-Earth), the stereotypical perception of traits


ascribed to women (mother care, motherly love), but also social relationships regulating human life (matriarchy). The linguistic evoking of the fatherhood concentrates on the biological role (father – chromosome X or Y donor), the metaphorical father as creator (Bóg Ojciec), and father as the person who ensures the beginning of something (father – founder) and fulfilling the role of the carer (fatherly care, step father). There are also a few references to the social life model (patriarchy)27.

Fathers as rulers

The majority of lexical materials come from the Tarot fortune telling handbooks. It is important to point out that the aforementioned qualitative dualism in the representation of the father figure (negative and positive profile) results from setting its linguistic image in the material coming from this group of analysed handbooks.

The structure of tarotmancy handbooks is rather fixed. Each title taken into account was organised according to the same composition (description of individual cards according to their iconic-idiographic qualities and their interpretation). Fathers appear in the tarotmancy handbooks mostly in chapters devoted to three cards: The Emperor, The Pope (Hierophant) and The Devil (in Anglo-Saxon decks often replaced with Horned God). The elements representing male strength and fertility are ascribed to the symbolic and iconographic layer of these mantic signs, which results in identifying these figures with fathers by the authors of the handbooks when it comes to their social roles and their situation in life. The following examples prove that claim – The Emperor is Father and Ruler (TZG); The Emperor takes you under his fatherly care (JD); [The Pope– supplemented TP] is the father of the church (TZG); the green father of the forest (KT). In the first two examples, the lexical choices activate the meaning of the word father as a biological parent, the genetic material donor and a person taking care of his offspring (father-parent and father-carer). These are the cases of the direct reference to the primary meaning of the normative lexeme father28. The remaining examples refer to the metaphorical meaning – father is a person who is at the beginnings, who took part in creating something (father-founder).

It is worth having a closer look at the symbolic layer of these male figures in the context of fatherhood. All three are characterised by extraordinary abilities to influence the reality and are above humans in the hierarchy of beings. The Emperor, as the highest monarch, has a power on earth. The Devil, as a demon or a specific god figure, is a personification of the supernatural powers, has creative-destructive abilities which surpass

Chapter Nineteen

246

the humanity. Hierophant – as an intermediary between the real world and supernatural powers – in a way becomes a mediator and has the ability to interfere in the human world both on the physical and spiritual level. Linking these figures to fatherhood points to a very high cultural valorization. Moreover, in the context of hierarchical positions the figures of father and emperor are treated as equal. The explicit and direct nomination makes the relationship between the two an indissoluble one. The representation of father is realised by the out-of-the-ordinary individuals, who are given the abilities to have a strong influence on their surroundings, to reach their own resolutions and to decide about their own and others’ fate.

This image gives rise to one of the fundamental father attributes in fortune telling – power, the ability to control human life in its many aspects, which is visible in the handbooks in their description of patriarchy as a dominant social model. Also the duties undertaken by the fathers show their higher position in the family or in the entire society – they decide about the weddings, they speak in the name of the nation, they marry their daughters off (MR), they influence the choice of studies (IT), they force certain behaviours, e.g. trips (IT), they give direct orders (MR). There is, however, also a negative side to their roles: they are domestic tyrant and family despot (IT), they are in power because of the patriarchal order (IT), they can oppose to their children's independence (IT). The family can rebel (IT) against such a father.

Other handbooks of divination undertake the notion of fatherhood much less frequently, which results in a much poorer linguistic material that can be procured. They duplicate, however, the depiction of father as a ruler. Mostly, these are the direct depictions which present the father as the head of the family (e.g. to ask for the daughter's hand, i.e. to ask the father to marry his daughter, MR; the father can also speak in the name of the whole family KPR) or metaphorically, supported by the family relationships in the religious world. The motif of Odin as the father of gods (Magni, the son of great Odin, MR) is an interesting element which can be found in the descriptions of fortune telling from runs. The figure of the divine father appears a few times in the analysed material. It refers to, on the one hand, the already mentioned visualisation technique, which presents the relationship between the divine beings in their family relationships (Gierek 2013, 85-95), but on the other hand – to the Christian metaphor of God as father (see the first words of Modlitwa Pa ska Ojcze nasz…; emphasis T.P.). The pagan motives are restricted mainly to the runs handbooks, e.g. the already mentioned figure of Odin – the father of gods. His characterization is presented in an indirect way – he can control


his very powerful son (MR), which may lead to an interpretation that the father is much more powerful than the son. Also the gods’ great fertility is one of the aspects which are often mentioned, they are fathers of different, not only human elements of the world. The pagan god is the green father of the forest (KT). Divine fatherhood (KPR) is presented as something especially auspicious in human life and guarantees success. The references to Christian beliefs can be found in the sentence The God Father takes care of the world and the initial formula of the prayer In the name of Father, Son and Holy Spirit (MR). Indeed, in the world of fortune telling, next to fathers-people we can find fathers-gods, who are given no lesser power to influence the world than their physical precursors, and may cause positive and negative outcomes (the Odin's anger is great, MR).

Physical traits of the fathers

The catalogue of the physical traits which can be ascribed to fathers in the light of the collected materials is rather limited, though – despite that – internally diversified. Father does not have a specified age – he can be at the same time young (IT), and older (WC), and sometimes called simply old (RO). The most positive representation of fathers is found in their maturity (DT) and middle age (WK). There are more positive traits linked to them (e.g. responsibility and wisdom). Father at every age has a good contact with adult children (IT) and helps to choose the university. Father is also given the respect of the older person (WC). Fatherhood in other age than the middle age is viewed as negative. Fathers who are either too young or too old are presented in an unfavourable light, as individuals causing problems in the family (IT) and unable to reconcile with [their] children (DT). There is not much that can be said about the appearance of the father. It is known that the father should have bushy facial hair (it is an older bearded man MR). When it comes to physical disposition we only know that he is short (MR). He often smiles warmly (RO). One of the main physical traits of a fortune telling father is his strength. It can be noticed in the use of such epithets as strong, powerful, mighty, which are repeated in the descriptions of the figures (MR, MO, KT). Fathers’ clothes are described rarely. He usually wears black (MR).

The collected material shows that the fathers are not very healthy, and fathers’ illnesses are quite serious. The fortune telling handbooks pay a lot of attention to infertility (IT, RO, DT) and addiction to alcohol and drugs (IT). There are also serious illnesses (IT) and taking care of a diseased father (MR, IT). There are no contrasting descriptions of a healthy father29.

Chapter Nineteen

248

Psychological traits of the fathers

Fortune telling handbooks pay much more attention to characterizing psychological traits of the father figures than to their physicality. Lexical exponents of this meaning schemata are not dominating when it comes to quantity and qualitative diversity in the entire characteristic of the fathers. This meaning schemata is internally diversified in relation to psychological traits (intro- and extrovert traits), and the polarity of virtues and vices. There are two profiles which are noticeable (positive and negative), which are close in terms of their internal structure. There are also many traits which cannot be unequivocally defined due to their neutrality (e.g. an idealist, WK) or a repeated divergent representation of an individual (e.g. religiousness, which appears both as an element marked as rather positive, but also with a particle too which is clearly negative).

Positive profile

This image of a parent consists of the expressions approving of his character and personality. Father is mainly caring (IT, TZG, JD, MR, DT, KT, KPR). This trait is the most prototypical in terms of description. Most of the analysed sources are repeated. It certainly refers to the father-carer motif, of someone who takes care of his children. The second repetitive trait is wisdom – father is wise (IT, TZG, JD, MR, RO). Other epithets appeared much more rarely, up to 3 times in the material: honest, equal, intelligent, cheerful, helpful, reliable, merciful, nice, sympathetic, caring, full of understanding, responsible, trustworthy and friendly, nice and supportive. He is also a real professional (IT). As it can be seen, most of the above mentioned traits are linked to the relationship of the father with other people. The positive aspect of this figure is raised in social interactions, and its manifestation requires a presence of an observer (e.g. a subject towards which one can express understanding or support). The most frequent subjects who experience fathers positive traits are children. It can be assumed that fathers' attitudes towards the children create a prism through which the positive realisation of the fatherly figure can be observed. It is important to notice the intellectual possibilities of the male parent – he is wise and intelligent. He can easily fulfil himself in his job – he calls him directly a professional which links him to the already mentioned element of responsibility.


Negative profile

Fortune telling handbooks include also negative father figures. He is toxic (TZG, IT, KT, DT, RO, WC), the frequent appearance of this trait proves its intensity: immature, too strict, destructive, too demanding, unlikely to agree, despotic, abrasive, manipulating, cold, too caring, a domestic tyrant (all examples: IT). It is easily noticeable that the undesirable character traits, as in the previous example, are manifested mainly during interactions with other people. Such elements as strictness, too high expectations or despotism force a construction of his character based on a dialogue. Next to an individual assuming the stance and manifesting the trait, there must appear someone who can become a realisation of a particular trait. This then leads to the interpretation of the father’s behaviour towards others.

Behaviours and actions undertaken by fathers

A great majority of the linguistic material creating the meaning schemata is related to the negative depiction of fathers (though the positive aspect is also visible). Their activities are characterised by the following set of behaviours: has too high expectations, sets unrealistic goals, hinders professional development, manipulates his family, encodes complexes, forces trips, blocks child's independence, does not show feelings, does not teach children any rules, has a negative influence on children (all examples: IT). The possible reason for similar behaviours is broadening one of the primary characteristics of the father figure in the construction of the fortune telling world – describing the archetype of the Emperor. As can be seen, the aforementioned behaviours do not reflect father's personal weaknesses but rather his developed control of his surroundings.

In contrast to this is the positive set of behaviours: takes care of the world (TZG), gives life (TZG), creates the world (RO), has a good relationship with his children (IT), provides for the family (IT), is the head of the family (MR), is a good role model for his children (WC), has a good relationship with his son (IT), teaches to respect the tradition (MR), supports children (WK), helps children (MR), keeps his word (MR).

The attitude and behaviour of others towards fathers

This meaning schemata is depicted in a very limited way, only a couple of exponents allow to see the father as an object influenced by external stimuli. He is certainly very respectful. He is the one who asks to marry

Chapter Nineteen

250

his daughter (MR). He has the right to speak in the name of other family members and makes decisions for them. Others submit themselves to his power (TZG). Children see in him an ideal partner and a strong authority (TZG, IT). Fathers should be bowed to (MR). As can be seen, the world surrounding the father plays a minor role, lets him control itself and the possibility to make decisions in its name. The situation changes when the father acts in a harmful way towards his children and is only a stepfather (IT).In this case, there are conflicts between father and children and rebellions against father (IT). However, these are rather incidental situations.

Conclusions

The collected material points to a clear crystallisation of the father figure in the contemporary mantic discourse. This individual is strong and powerful, is respected by children. He is allowed to make the most important decisions for them, e.g. about marriage. He is caring but also strict and demanding. Fatherhood is for him a joy, but father must show a certain amount of maturity, to be able to appreciate it. He has a big influence on his surroundings, as a representative of both secular and religious power. This is emphasised especially by the metaphorical usage of the word father – in relation to deities, priests, and monarchs. Metaphorically, the father is depicted as a superior figure in a family and social structure. It is not, however, a uniform and permanent depiction – the concentration of negative traits in the father figure makes others rebel against him.

Based on the above deliberations, the qualitative concession of fathers to mothers is surprising. Despite giving them the most important prerogatives, it is the motherhood that is commonly mentioned in the context of families and parenthood. The superior position of mothers signifies a cultural removal of father figure from everyday life. The appearance of male parents in the world of human decisions, is incomparably less frequent than contact with mothers, which leads to a schematic cultural perception of the family. Prototypical realization of the parenthood category does not contain the male figure. Male figures appear only in serious or utmost situations – in initiation rituals, changes of social state or decisions requiring a stern and cold support of an authority.


Works Cited

Primary sources

Banzhaf, Hajo. Droga Tarota. Trans. J. Tomkiel. Bia ystok: Ars-Scripti-2, 2004.

—. Klucze do Tarota. Trans. J. Tomkiel. Bia ystok: Ars-Scripti-2, 2006. Chrzanowska, Alla Alicja. Interpretacja tarota. Bia ystok: Ars-Scripti-2,

2011.Chrzanowska, Alla Alicja. Misterium Run. Bia ystok: Ars-Scripti-2, 2011.

Dee, Jonathan. Tarot. Trans. N. Dudek. O arów Mazowiecki: Wydawnictwo Olesiejuk, 2012.

G dek, Edyta. Tarot. 78 kart do wró b i medytacji. Kraków: Wydawnictwo Trefl, 1997.

Matela, Leszek. Wyrocznia celtycka. Bia ystok: Studio Astropsychologii, 2005.

Peschel, Lisa. Kompletny przewodnik runiczny. Trans. K. Knockenhauer. Bia ystok: Studio Astropsychologii, 2014.

Piasecka, Maria. Runy. Mistyczny dar Odyna. ód : Ravi, 2004. —. Wró enie z kart klasycznych ze szczypt zdrowego rozs dku. ód :

Ravi, 2006.

References

Bartmi ski, Jerzy. J zykowe podstawy obrazu wiata. Lublin: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Marii Curie-Sk odowskiej, 2006.

Bujak-Lechowicz, Jolanta, ed. Rodzina w j zyku i kulturze. Piotrków: Naukowe Wydawnictwo Piotrkowskie, 2010-Gierek, Bo ena. Religie Celtów. Olsztyn: WAM, 2013.Grzywa, Anna.Magiczna wizja wiata. Warszawa: ENETEIA, 2010.

Piasecki, Tomasz. “I stanie si tak… Wró ba jako tekst skondensowany.” In Kondensacja i kompresja w j zyku, tekstach i kulturze. Edited by W.

arski. 172-3. Wroc aw: Oficyna Wydawnicza ATUT, 2013. SJP PWN. S ownik j zyka polskiego PWN sjp.pwn.pl Accessed

November 2015. Smyk, Katarzyna. “Mój stary ojciec by z br zu, a matka z op atka i

miodu. Rodzice w wierszach Jana Pocka.” Annales Universitatis Mariae Curie-Sk odowska vol. XXVIII: 131-156, 2010.

Zinken, Jorg. “Linguistic pictures of the world or language in the world? Metaphors and methods in ethnolinguistic research.” Etnolingwistyka 20: 51-62, 2008.

Chapter Nineteen

252

Notes 1 The article was written as a summary of a research project titled Analysing communication behaviour in ritual contexts. Description of the cultural and language structure. Part III, Faculty of Letters, Wroc aw University, Wroc aw 2015. 2 According to Wielki s ownik frazeologiczny PWN z przys owiami (Warszawa: Wydawnictwo Naukowe PWN, 2009), mother creates 10 phrasal verbs with various degree of connectivity; father is a constitutive element of 4 phrasal verbs and 8 sayings. 3 For example in S ownik mitów i tradycji kultury by W. Kopali ski (Warszawa: Bellona, cop. 2003) the entry mother refers to 31 cultural meanings, father – 34. 4 Which is understood according to the so called research concept JOS developed as a part of the Lubelska school of ethnolinguistic. Cf: (Bartmi ski 2006; Zinken 2008). 5 For example Jolanta Bujak-Lechowicz, ed., Rodzina w j zyku i kulturze (Piotrków: Naukowe Wydawnictwo Piotrkowskie 2010). 6 In Poland classification of professions and specialties prepared by the Ministry of Work and Social Policy includes divinator (code 516102) and astrologian (516101), giving them the rank of separate and independent professions. ref.: Search engine for the descriptions regarding professions, accessed December 19, 2015, http://psz.praca.gov.pl/rynek-pracy/bazy-danych/klasyfikacja-zawodow-i-specjalnosci/wyszukiwarka-opisow-zawodow/-/klasyfikacja_zawodow/ 7 For example Studium Psychologii Psychotronicznej, ref. Divination and prognostic arts accessed December 19, 2015 http://www.studioastro.pl/studium/?art=kierunki 8 Based on the bibliometric observations of Polish and Croatian publishing production. 9 This phenomenon can be observed in Poland in particular after the year 1995. Regarding the Polish book market the number of titles devoted to divination at the beginning of the second decade of the 21st century exceeded the number of all publications on the topic published between years 1990-2010 (based on my own quantitative analysis of the publication catalogue). 10 For example one of the two Polish card fortune-telling handbooks published in the 2005 relates to 50 tarotmancy handbooks present in the catalogue of the publisher. Similarly there are a few Lenormand and angel card handbook (single titles, hard to come by, and quickly withdrawn from the market). 11 That is the reason why personalised handbooks are made and are dedicated to a single deck, e.g. The Llewellyn Tarot Companion. See Anna-Marie Ferguson, The Llewellyn Tarot Companion (Woodbury: Llewellyn Publications, 2007). 12 Further TZG. Edyta G dek, Tarot. 78 kart do wró b i medytacji (Kraków: Wydawnictwo Trefl, 1997). 13 Further IT. Alla Alicja Chrzanowska, Interpretacja tarota (Bia ystok: Ars-Scripti 2, 2011). 14 Further DT. Hajo Banzhaf, Droga Tarota, trans. Justyna Tomkiel (Bia ystok: Ars-Scripti-2, 2004).


15 Further KT. Hajo Banzhaf, Klucze do Tarota, trans. Justyna Tomkiel (Bia ystok: Ars-Scripti-2, 2006). 16 Further JD. Jonathan Dee, Tarot, trans. Natalia Dudek (O arów Mazowiecki: Wydawnictwo Olesiejuk, cop. 2012). 17 Further KPR. Lisa Peschel, Kompletny przewodnik runiczny, trans. Kamila Knockenhauer (Bia ystok: Studio Astropsychologii, 2014). 18 Further MR. Alla Alicja Chrzanowska, Misterium Run (Bia ystok: Ars-Scripti-2, 2011). 19 Further RO. Maria Piasecka, Runy. Mistyczny dar Odyna ( ód : Ravi, 2004). 20 Leszek Matela, Wyrocznia celtycka (Bia ystok: Studio Astropsychologii, 2005). 21 Maria Piasecka, Wró enie z kart klasycznych ze szczypt zdrowego rozs dku ( ód : Ravi, 2006). 22 S ownik j zyka polskiego PWN defines a parent as one of the parents, a mother or a father (SJP PWN). What is interesting, the second meaning in the same entry, has a time qualifier archaic and notes that a parent means a father. 23 Further in the text: JOS. 24 I do not take into account the repetition of one of the lexical actualizations. The repetition, e.g. the collocation Ojciec Ko cio a (father of the church) without any semantic modification of the context will be treated as the use of meaning 4. 25 At the same time, the interpretations of them become more transparent. 26 Such interpretations result in a rare depiction of women as active in other spheres of life than the ones linked to fulfilling their family roles. 27 It is important to notice, however, that these contexts have – with very few exceptions – negative emotional connotations. 28 See SJP PWN. 29 On the margin of these considerations it should be noticed that a father is rich (IT).

CONTRIBUTORS Katie Barnett is currently a lecturer at the University of Worcester, UK, where she teaches in the departments of Film Studies and Media & Culture. Her primary research interests focus on representations of masculinity and the family in modern American and European cinema. More specifically, her work seeks to examine representations of fatherhood in film, with a particular interest in Hollywood cinema. She received her PhD from the University of Birmingham and has previously published on postfeminism and the films of Robin Williams, and representations of young boys and death in American cinema. Zdenka er (1954) graduated in the Croatian language and literature (then: Croatian or Serbian language and Yugoslav literature) and Philosophy (1978) from the Faculty of Philosophy in Zadar, University of Split, got a master’s degree (1997; Topic: The Way from Personal to Scenic Identity) from the Faculty of Philosophy (or: Humanities and Social Sciences) in Zagreb, University of Zagreb, where she also received her PhD (2013; Topic: Croatian Puppet Play). In 2008, at the Faculty of Teacher Education she was elected to the title of art teaching position of senior lecturer. Since 1979 until 2000 she worked as a professional associate for theatrical amateurism of the City of Zagreb (Community Alliance of cultural associations, Cultural Centre Peš enica), and since 2000 she has been a Senior Associate at the Center for Culture and Information Maksimir in Zagreb. From 1989 to 1992 she taught Puppetry and Performing Culture at the Faculty of Philosophy – Pedagogical Sciences, Department of Preschool Educational Studies in Zagreb, and from 2007 she has been teaching the same courses at the Faculty of Teacher Education, University of Zagreb, Departments of Petrinja and

akovec. She is an external collaborator at Lexicographic Institute Miroslav Krleža for editions Croatian Biographical Lexicon, Croatian Literary Encyclopedia, Theatre Lexicon. She has actively participated in the work of professional and scientific meetings and conferences in

akovec, Šibenik, Opatija, Zagreb, Osijek, Vinkovci, Zadar – Gospi , Rijeka and Warsaw – Bialystok. She writes about the recent developments and events on the alternative theatre and puppet stage in Croatia for the daily (Vjesnik), weekly/bi-weekly (Hrvatsko slovo, Vijenac) press, and for

Fatherhood in Contemporary Discourse: Focus on Fathers 255

professional journals and publications. She runs, organises and edits a number of publications in the field of alternative and amateur theatrical creation. The author is also the head of the implementation of professional programmes (Summer / Winter school of puppetry, seminar: ABC of Puppetry) and interdisciplinary projects in the culture of the City of Zagreb: Daily Life with a Stage Puppet (1996-1997), By the Theatre to the Truth (2001; 2003-2004), Puppet Play – an Invitation to Dialogue (2005-2010) and With a Puppet I laugh (2014-2015). She is a member of the Croatian Association of Dramatic Artists (section: directors), the Matica hrvatska publishing institute – Department of Theatre and Film and Croatian Association of Researchers of Children’s Literature. Tomasz Gadzina is an assistant in the Institute of Slavonic Studies at Opole University, Poland, where he teaches Business English. He received his M.A. from Opole University and was offered a job as an academic teacher at the Holy Cross University in Kielce. In 2008 he was offered a position of a research-and-teaching assistant at Opole University. In addition to teaching, Tomasz Gadzina is a member of European Association for Studies of Australia and its regular conference attendee. His academic interests include postcolonial studies, Australian literature and culture. Recently he has been working on his Ph.D. dissertation on Australian literature and Tim Winton's fiction. Zbigniew G owala defended his PhD dissertation on the British postwar academic novel in 2014 at Maria Curie-Sk odowska University in Lublin. He has published articles on the campus novel and horror fiction which are his main research interests. He currently works at the Jagiellonian Language Centre of the Jagiellonian University in Kraków. Suvi Heikkinen, PhD, is a postdoctoral researcher in management and leadership at School of Business and Economics, University of Jyväskylä. She has been involved in research concerning work and family integration for managers, careers and gender, and is currently working with the topics of social sustainability of working life and ethical management in sport organizations. She has also interest on ethics and expatriation. She has published both internationally and nationally on topics related to work-family integration and careers in management. She has been mainly teaching topics related HRM, work well-being and careers.

Contributors

256

Taraneh Houshyar graduated in the field of English Language and Literature from Shiraz University, Iran, in February 2015. Ever since her MA dissertation, she has been interested in working with frameworks of psychological and cultural studies within the sociology of Literature. Regarding social and psychological aspects, she has tried to modify a diagram through which disempowered participants, specifically Autistic ones, would experience the process of Individual Empowerment within themselves (transcribing Elisheva Sadan) The motivation derived from such study has encouraged her to step further in the analysis of "norm" and basics – e.g. "death" – once they are represented and (trans)formed in novels. Currently, her domain of research contains psycho-philosophical logics of "perception" and "self" through the theories of Maurice Merleau-Ponty on major literary works of Iran and the West. Aleksandra Jacukowicz works in the Department of Health and Work Psychology in the Nofer Institute of Occupational Medicine in Lodz. In her research work, she focuses on the psychosocial determinants of well-being and health. Recently, she has led a research project on the impact of psychosocial risks at workplace, work stress and performance anxiety on the musculoskeletal, skin, and hearing problems in a group of musicians. In her studies, she also searches for the determinants of maintaining good health and efficient functioning, considering such variables as control at work, sense of achievement, flow or stress coping strategies. She also participates in research on work-life balance, with particular focus on working parents. She studies the issue of working parents’ needs, difficulties, or their attitude towards perfect childhood for their children. Agnieszka Jarosz is a doctoral student at the University of Wroc aw. She wrote her master’s thesis in 2010 on The Approaches to the History of the American Civil War in Margaret Mitchell’s Gone with the Wind and its Film Adaptation by Victor Fleming. In 2012 she obtained her B.A. in Spanish philology. Her fields of interest embrace children’s and young adult literature, history (history of nations and America), postmodern literature and foreign languages. She works as an English and Spanish language teacher, English A literature teacher and translator. At the moment she is working on her doctoral thesis on the censorship of American children’s literature.


Emilia Kangas, M.Sc., is a doctoral student in management and leadership at School of Business and Economics, University of Jyväskylä, Finland. Her in-the-making doctoral thesis concerns fatherhood and management. She has also been involved in research concerning gender in management and leadership. Her main research interests are gender in management, fatherhood, and work-family balance. She has published nationally on topics related to gender stereotypes and women’s leadership. Sally Karmi, PhD, has been teaching literature courses at the Department of English Language and Translation at The Applied Science University since 2009 in Amman, Jordan. She graduated from Exeter University –United Kingdom in 2009. Her research interests include areas about feminist theory, postcolonial theory, East-West Cultural Encounter, women writings, specifically contemporary Arab women writers. Anna-Maija Lämsä is Professor of Human Resource Management at Jyväskylä University School of Business and Economics, Finland. Her main research interests are in ethical approaches to management, leadership and organizations, gender in management and leadership, and women’s leadership development. She researches these topics in different socio-cultural contexts. Her work has appeared in journals like Journal of Business Ethics, International Journal of Human Resource Management, Scandinavian Journal of Management, Business Ethics: A European Review, Baltic Journal of Management, Gender in Management: An International Journal, Journal of Workplace Learning and Leadership & Organization Development Journal. She has published three textbooks in Finland and won the Edita award for her textbooks in 2005. Grzegorz Ma ecki is a graduate of the University of Wroclaw, Institute of Polish Philology, and currently a doctoral candidate at the Faculty of Philology, University of Wroclaw. He is preparing a doctoral thesis about the film creative activity of Ethan and Joel Coen. He would like to look at their work not only from a purely formal point of view, but – above all – refer to the philosophical, sociological and anthropological contexts of their work. His research work mainly focuses on contemporary European and American cinema, but also American literature and dangerous liaisons between cinema and literature.

Contributors

258

Socrates Nolasco is a psychologist in private practice, Doctor in Clinical Psychology at PUC (Pontifical Catholic University of Rio de Janeiro) (2000). Professor at the School of Communication at UFRJ (Federal University of Rio de Janeiro). Member of APA (American Psychological Association) (2014), and ad-hoc consultant for the APA 51 Division: Psychology of Men and Masculinity Journal at Artemis Journal, Society and Health Journal. Member of the International Association of Penal Law (2014). Founder and Coordinator of the program FATHER – 24hours (Orientation and Education Service directed at men who have children) established in 1996. Consultant of the Rio de Janeiro State Department of Penitentiary Security (1984). Published author of The Myth of Masculinity (1992), The Deconstruction of Masculinity (1994), From Tarzan to Homer Simpson: Masculine Violence and Decadence (2000), The First Sex (2010). Tomasz Piasecki holds degrees in Polish philology, library and information scence, Serbian philology, and religious studies. He is a PhD candidate in the Editing Department of Polish philology at the University of Wroclaw. His academic interests focus around the structure, typology, function, and social perception of mantic, divinatory, and prophetic texts, as well as linguistic formation of magic rituals. He is also interested in theolinguistics (especially the language of sacrofanum and the communication development of Neo-Paganism), ritual narration, and grammar of divination systems. Ma gorzata Pietras-Mrozicka is a PhD student at the Faculty of Economics and Sociology at the University of ód , Poland. Her current research interests focus on the sociology of health and family. She studies distinct aspects of experiencing illnesses within family environment. She applies an interdisciplinary approach in her research, in which she employs elements of psychology, anthropology, and gender studies. Desi Dwi Prianti is Lecturer in the Department of Communication at the University of Brawijaya, Indonesia. She is currently a PhD candidate in the Department of Media and Cultural Studies at the Utrecht University, The Netherlands with the grant from the Directorate General of Resources for Research, Technology and Higher education of Indonesia. Since 2012 she has been engaged in research on contemporary societal change in Indonesia, focusing on the effect of modernization, media portrayal, gender relations with specific emphasis on post-colonial experience. Her most recent research is looking at the changing of men and masculinity in contemporary Indonesia.


ukasz Salski is assistant professor at the Institute of English Studies, University of ód , Poland, where he teaches English composition and TEFL. His academic interests include intercultural aspects of second language writing as well as foreign language acquisition and learning theory. ukasz coordinates the Institute’s writing program and manages ERIC (English wRiting Improvement Center), which he started in 2011, probably as the first writing center in the country. Between 2012 and 2016

ukasz served on the board of the European Writing Centers Association. ukasz is the father of two sons and a member of the Polish Automobile

Association. Karina Sembe is a PhD Candidate and Researcher at Taras Shevchenko National University of Kyiv (Ukraine), Independent Researcher at The University of Vienna (Austria). Her research interests include Latin American Literature in a post-hegemony perspective, comparative literature, archetypal and myth criticism, cultural anthropology. Lina Šumskait is the Lecturer at the Faculty of Philosophy of Vilnius University since 2012. 2008-2013 she was employed at Gender Studies Centre of Vilnius University as Senior Specialist and Junior Researcher. In 2014 she obtained PhD degree in the field of Sociology. The field of her scientific interests are family policy, fatherhood, masculinity studies, LGBT studies. Mateusz wietlicki, PhD, works at the Faculty of Ukrainian Studies (Institute of Slavic Studies, the University of Wroc aw) and the Center for Young People's Literature and Culture (Institute of English Studies, the University of Wroc aw). In his doctoral project titled When Boys Become Men. Making Ukrainian Boys in Serhiy Zhadan's Prose he examined the process of growing up of Ukrainian boys in the late 1980s and early 1990s. His research interests include cultural studies, gender studies, sociology, Ukrainian picture books, and American YA fiction. Agata W yk is a psychologist and works as a junior researcher in the Department of Health and Work Psychology in the Nofer Institute of Occupational Medicine in Lodz (NIOM). After graduating from the Faculty of Psychology at the University of Lodz, she completed postgraduate studies in Labour Law. Currently she also studies English Philology at the University of Lodz, where she works on the thesis regarding cultural differences in the conceptualisation of emotions. At NIOM she is engaged in different national and international research

Contributors

260

projects regarding work and private life reconciliation, occupational stress and attendance dynamics at work. Her main interests include workers’ health, well-being, and productivity, as well as work-life balance, its determinants and consequences. Yumin Zhang is a PhD candidate in the department of English and American studies at Humboldt University of Berlin.

Fatherhood in Contemporary Discourse: Focus on Fathers

Documents

Transcript of Fatherhood in Contemporary Discourse: Focus on Fathers