The Subversive Stitch, Embroidery and the Making of the Feminine

By Rozsika Parker
I.B. Tauris & Co

In the world of contemporary art, using embroidery to express yourself is risky, and while I impart a subtle subversive message in those textile pieces, it is hard to overcome the initial impression that I am doing dainty women's work. In my attempt to understand that prejudice, I picked up the book The Subversive Stitch.

Written by Rozsika Parker who has published widely in both Art History and Psychotherapy, The Subversive Stitch delves into the history of embroidery to explore its associations with femininity. Parker defines femininity as "the behaviour expected and encouraged in women, though obviously related to the biological sex of the individual, is shaped by society." The key argument of this book is that the "changes in ideas about femininity that can be seen reflected in the history of embroidery are striking confirmation that femininity is a social and psychosocial product."

In the revised and updated edition, the book is broken down into eight chapters: The Creation of Femininity' Eternalising the Feminine; Fertility, Chastity and Power; The Domestication of Embroidery; The Inculcation of Femininity; From Milkmaids to Mothers; Femininity as Feeling; and A Naturally Revolutionary Art? This is a scholarly text, densely written with abundant quotations, endnotes, and black and white illustrations. Unfortunately, much of the richness and beauty of the photo illustrations is lost in their small size of presentation in dull gray tones. Nevertheless, the book is a thoughtful and thorough analysis of the history of embroidery and its association with femininity and women's work. Of particular interest to me was the last chapter in which Parker explores the revolutionary aspect of contemporary embroidery by such artists as Louise Bourgeois and Tracy Emin. However, this book is not for a casual reader and is more suited for research in art history, feminist issues, or embroidery.

From my reading of The Subversive Stitch, I came to understand the reasons the disparity in status between embroidery and painting. The division between women's work and men's work seems to be at the core of this deep seeded antipathy towards embroidery. This particular quote from the eighteenth century sums it up: "Sir, she's an Artist with her needle...Could anything be more laughable than a woman claiming artistic status for her sewing?." Luckily, today's definitions of art and femininity are somewhat more fluid, allowing me flexibility to chose the medium best suited for a particular message.

Review by Ingrid Mida

Cross-posted at Fashion is My Muse

Iron Butterflies: Women Transforming Themselves and the World

By Birute Regine
Prometheus Books

In the eternal question of nature versus nurture, author and developmental psychologist Birute Regine leans comfortably towards nature. She embraces “feminine” qualities and calls for women the world over to do the same. While the anecdotes and reflections she chooses to share are indeed compelling and inspirational, the book as a whole can be off-putting if you do not necessarily prescribe to the idea of gendered personality traits.

One major theme running throughout Iron Butterflies is the need to reject and reform what she calls “gladiator culture,” which is defined by its aggressive, macho, and violent nature. This, Regine writes, is the source of many societal ills. The book is then a call to action for women around the globe to effect change through compassion, empathy, and caring—the antidote to gladiator culture. By accepting and uncovering innately feminine qualities, women can improve their own quality of life while also creating social change in their communities and in the larger world.

Though gender biases, discrimination, and violence continue to exist in full force, further emphasis on the “inherent” differences between men and women feels uncomfortable and one-sided. Instead of gendering characteristics, a more inclusive approach would have been to look deeper into how these traits have come into existence and examine the larger society as a whole for ways that everyone can integrate compassion, for instance, into their daily behavioral repertoire.

Regine does recognize this point in a few isolated moments, but looking at a scale with nature on one side and nurture on the other, she falls much closer to nature. With chapters entitled, “Tears: Heal the Hidden Wound,” and “Chrysalis: Shedding Self-Imposed Limitations,” the general tone of the book is New Age-y self help, with the inclusion of various ethnic and cultural metaphors. The core message is one of positive change and growth, but the means of achieving them may not resonate with all readers.

Review by Shana Mattson

Healing Pandora: The Restoration of Hope and Abundance

By Gail Thomas
North Atlantic Books

The mythic Pandora has long been misunderstood as one who brought evil into the world. She was thought to be the first mortal woman created and sent to Earth by the gods. Her infamous box, once opened, leads to the escape of diseases and other ills, resulting in a lasting curse upon humankind.

But this is not Pandora’s original story; in fact, the modern retelling of this myth is vastly different from Pandora’s true nature. In Healing Pandora, author Gail Thomas explores the origins of the Pandora myth, how it evolved into the tale we accept today, and Pandora’s influence on our culture.

Thomas asserts that long before Pandora’s myth became twisted, she inhabited the role of a goddess. Pandora was not just any goddess. She was the Earth Mother and maker of “all things, all gods, and all mortals.” But like many other female figures (historical or mythical), Pandora’s role as life giver transformed into one who bestows misfortune upon the world, and men in particular.

The first half of Healing Pandora takes a thorough look at the goddess and the vessel she carries, while in the second half, Thomas focuses on how people can apply Pandora’s lessons to modern culture. Thomas describes Pandora as “an archetypal image of culture, an image no longer in the consciousness of our world today.” She invites the reader to consider Western culture as a living entity and describe its appearance. The author bets the image would be one of “competition and scarcity.” By viewing culture through the Pandora myth, however, Thomas states that we will find “a bountiful feminine figure with outstretched arms and hands, waiting to provide everything we need.” The latter outlook seems most assuredly a rarity for Westerners.

Some solutions Thomas offers for transforming culture include women and men embracing their feminine side and also to become true stewards of the earth who recognize that spirit exists in all matter. She also suggests considering how different the world would appear to each of us if we imagined it as a bountiful place instead of one that is always deficient in some way or another.

Of course with a book titled Healing Pandora one would expect the author to spend some time analyzing myth. Thomas does this and takes liberty by discussing Pandora and many other mythic figures in great detail, so much that it’s difficult to keep track of the book’s main purpose. On the other hand, she does raise many valuable and thought-provoking insights toward culture today that are worth contemplating, and Thomas provides a much-needed background of Pandora before her myth became corrupted.

Review by Beverly Jenkins-Crockett

Kissing the Mask: Beauty, Understatement and Femininity in Japanese Noh Theater

By William T. Vollmann
Ecco

Full disclosure: I am an avid fan of William T. Vollmann's work and was excited to read this book. Vollmann often has strange and interesting things to say about women and gender relations, and his notorious interest in prostitutes (who feature prominently in both his fiction and non-fiction) may almost be labeled as an obsession. In his latest book, Kissing The Mask, Vollmann concentrates on the nature of femininity by viewing it primarily through the lens of the ancient, gorgeous masks of Japanese Noh theater. It is also a meditation on the idea of femininity as a staged performance.

Noh theater is far too complex to encapsulate in just a few sentences, and Vollmann himself often professes trouble in defining it thoroughly. At first glance, Noh seems a bizarre choice of medium through which to focus on femininity, as most Noh actors are male and men traditionally play the roles of women with the aid of costuming and masks. However, Vollmann directs his attention, and the readers', to the beautifully rendered Noh masks representing female characters. These become a metaphor for the “mask” of femininity that many women wear: makeup, jewelry, clothing, and other adornments that are more or less socially mandated.

Similarly, the elaborate and carefully orchestrated movements on the Noh stage are analogous to the “staged” femininity also involving complex, time-consuming, and money-burning ornamentation that often results in constricted and painful mobility. Vollmann is concerned with what “manifests” a woman as opposed to what a woman “is,” and in this endeavor he visits Japanese geishas and transvestites, both of whom could be said to wear the feminine mask. He digresses into history of what other cultures have traditionally considered “beautiful,” and manages to weave in thoughts about porn stars and artists' muses.

Vollmann readily admits that he perceives women as “the other,” and is fully aware of the fact that he is viewing women through the privilege of a male gaze. He waxes rhapsodic about female beauty throughout the text, basically elevating women on a very high and poetic pedestal, which made me slightly uncomfortable; when a person (or entire gender) is put up on a pedestal, it's a long way to fall. Vollmann appears to genuinely like and respect women, however, and my discomfort was minor and temporary. He also, as in his other nonfiction books, makes no pretense about being an objective observer; he is fully immersed as a character in his own true story.

Kissing The Mask is highly valuable as a look into the secretive, baroque, and intricate Japanese subcultures of Noh theater and geisha teahouses, with the author's personal study of staged femininity mostly as a bonus. Furthermore, it's enriched with William Vollmann's gorgeous and almost lyrical prose, plenty of photographs and drawings, several appendices with notes and chronologies, and a glossary for the many Japanese words and phrases liberally sprinkled through the material.

Review by Natalie Ballard