Bluestocking Catalogue #28
Reflections on "Madness" and Cruella, Nonfiction you should preorder & a fiction book pairing
I went to see Cruella a few nights ago and I loved it. Emma Stone’s portrayal of Cruella’s early years in this prequel to the famous animated version is transporting and nuanced. Part way through the movie, I found myself questioning whether Cruella was truly crazy or whether she was just playing the role- a classic question literature often tackles.
I thought of Shakespeare’s Hamlet and Dystoevsky’s Crime and Punishment (in undergrad, I wrote a paper exploring the link between laughter and madness in C&P #nerd) and Jane Eyre’s mad woman in the attack. These stories often ask are people “mad” because of their innate nature, or because it drives a person “mad” to feel like the only one seeing how fucked up society is when everyone else is pretending Everything Is Fine? We can add Cruella to the list of stories exploring this question.
Consider this monologue from Cruella (it does have spoilers and I think the music is different than in the movie). Cruella confesses that she’s always been different: “born brilliant, born bad … and a little bit mad,” and laughs. Before she leaves, she turns back and says in a softer tone: “I do love you … always.” Stone’s performance juxtaposes tenderness and lament with the brazenness and anger of the Cruella character we know, and that juxtaposition is why I found her performance so compelling.
Compare Cruella’s monologue to Ophelia’s famous soliloquy (I like Helena Bonham Carter’s version best.) Bonham Carter’s performance of Ophelia subtly suggests that Ophelia lost her mind because of how others, especially Hamlet, treated her. Perhaps Ophelia is the only one who has a sense of what’s really going on in the story, and that knowledge overwhelms her. Taylor Swift’s “mad woman” lyrics come to mind:
“Every time you call me crazy, I get more crazy
What about that?
And when you say I seem angry, I get more angry
And there's nothing like a mad woman
What a shame she went mad
No one likes a mad woman
You made her like that
And you'll poke that bear 'til her claws come out
And you find something to wrap your noose around
And there's nothing like a mad woman” (italics mine)
In this song, Taylor Swift claims that society creates the mad woman: “you made her like that.” Like Taylor Swift, I tend to answer my previous question about the nature of madness as an impossible dichotomy that society creates for people, especially anyone who’s not a cis white man. After all, if the only choices available are a) to be quiet/calm/pretty/accommodating always or b) to be mad, I’d pick being mad. In other words, if the world is crazy and everyone’s acting like it’s normal (see: The Emperor’s New Clothes), it makes sense to be mad and unhinged.* And being too angry for too long is what gets you labelled a crazy bitch. So, society sets up impossible standards and then defines “madness” as when you don’t shrink yourself to fit in.
While Ophelia’s story ends in heartbreak and death -Ophelia’s choice to take her own life could be interpreted as the last real choice she had left- Cruella seems to have more choices, and (probably as a direct result of her increased choices) a happier ending. Cruella chooses to embrace her inner mad woman, which makes sense since trying to shrink herself to please society didn’t work for her anyway. I’m not currently planning to dye my hair black & white, but I found Cruella’s choice empowering.
I drove home from the theater in the summer twilight blasting the phenomenal Cruella soundtrack: “And I tried to be sweet, I tried to be kind/
But I feel much better now that I'm out of my mind.”
As an addendum, in case it’s not already clear, I am not trying to say anything about the real and tragic mental illnesses people face. That’s not my area of expertise. I am interested in the way society and literature construct the idea of “madness”; how that construction shows up in stories; and how we can apply a feminist lens to these stories and the pattern of folks being labeled “crazy” when they don’t conform.
Related / if you want to go deeper: this episode of the Feminist Survival Project explores the idea of the inner mad woman in a fascinating and helpful way.
*I recognize my pronouns are vague here and I apologize, but you can fill in these sentences whatever you’re currently upset about: patriarchy, white supremacy, classism, economic injustice, fatphobia, homophobia etc. etc. etc.
Nonfiction Worth Pre-Ordering: On the Spectrum
In undergrad, I was lucky enough to get to work with Dan Bowman as my faculty advisor on my poetry thesis. He’s a poet, professor and damn kind human. I have so much respect for him, and I pre-ordered his newest book a few months ago.
On the Spectrum: Autism, Faith and Neurodiversity chronicles Bowman’s journey with a his autism diagnosis. From his website:
Rather than viewing autism as a deficiency, Bowman teaches readers—through stories of his heartbreaks and triumphs—authentic ways to love their neighbors as themselves, including their autistic neighbors who are fearfully and wonderfully, if differently, made.
This book has received endorsements from many acclaimed contemporary writers, like Sarah Bessey, Kaitlyn B. Curtis and Pádraig Ó Tuama. Here’s my Bookshop link, but his book is 40% off here - just $12. Pre-ordering books is one of the very best ways to support authors, and I’d love if you’d join me in supporting Dan’s much-needed work.
4th of July Prayer
If you’ve been around this space for a while, you probably could guess correctly that I have mixed feelings about the 4th of July as I’ve come to recognize that the “freedom” I celebrated as a kid was really just my white privilege. I resonated with Lisa Sharon Harper’s “A Prayer for America” this morning and commend it to you. Here’s a sneak peek:
“We, America, cover ourselves in whitewashed crinoline
That looks white to the world,
But underneath, our skirts are packed with the blood and bones of the dead.”
I saw the piece above last week at Newfields: it’s called “Don’t Matter How Raggly the Flag, It Sill Got to Tie Us Together” and was created by Thornton Dial. The exhibit asked people to respond with how this artwork made them feel.
Book Pairing: When the Stars Go Dark / Women Talking
TW: sexual assault, sexual abuse | I don’t always include a trigger warning, but both these books include some tricky stuff including sexual abuse. I didn’t include a more comprehensive trigger warning because I’m not a fan of spoilers, but if wanted to let you know to skip this section if you already know you’re out based on the trigger warning. Love you. 💙
When the Stars Go Dark by Paula McClain is a mystery/ psychological thriller about missing persons detective Anna Hart who returns to her hometown for unknown-to-us reasons. She gets drawn into a local missing persons case, and we realize as the book goes on just how personal her work is to her. The mystery element is solid, the suspense makes it un-put-downable, and the resolution is as satisfying as can be expected.
What really set this book apart to me was its lyrical descriptions of the Pacific Northwest and its psychological depth. Here’s a few quotes about place:
Firs and pines and Sitka spruce thicken around me, pushing in from all directions, black-tipped fairy-tale trees that knit shadows out of nothing, night out of day—as if they’ve stolen all the light and hidden it somewhere. God, but I’ve missed them.
For as long as I could remember, I’d had reasons to disappear. I was an expert at making myself invisible, but this was something else. I was part of things now, knitted into the landscape. And not overlooked at all, but cared about.
Our stars flickering on and on. Our souls and the shapes they make trying to find one another in the dark.
Do you see how McClain links identity and place in these quotes, not to mention those killer descriptions? “Black-tipped fairy-tale trees that knit shadows out of nothing” is so good, it makes me mad. (I’m going to have to pick up McClain’s poetry next, I think.)
McClain also explores the psychological complexity of these missing persons cases. In her afterword, she explains, “My troubled detective, Anna Hart, is obsessed with trauma and healing, with intimate violence and the complex hidden connection between victims and predators, because I’m obsessed with those things, and long have been.” The depth of insight about this topic McClain manages to capture while also illuminating Anna’s complexity is why this book stood out to me.
I immediately followed When the Stars Go Dark with Women Talking by Miriam Toewes, and they were an incredible pairing. Women Talking is set in a contemporary Mennonite community where the women meet secretly to decide what to do after a series of rapes within their community.
The book is short and profound as these women grapple with how faith has always been handed to them (submission etc.) and how they should respond collectively based on the horror they’ve faced. The characters felt so real to me, and although the conversation becomes theological and philosophical it was always grounded in humanity and reality,, in the decision they must make. I’m really glad I read this book, and think you might be too.
Blueberry Pound Cake
I don’t have a great new recipe for you, but I have a great old one! This is the perfect pound cake for summer, and I always get asked for the recipe when I take it someplace. Click here, then scroll down for the recipe.
Whew! We made it. If you like this newsletter, would you share it with someone else? I’d love to get to 100 subscribers by the end of summer.
Thank you for being here! Have a great long weekend.
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