Maybe there is a reason no man has ever gone there before . . .

Oh miserable man that I am! Why during this time of relaxation am I plagued with thoughts of feminism? I suppose it has something to do with my recent preoccupation with Star Trek (and all of its incarnations). Without boring everyone by enumerating the intricacies of plot and ample characterization that can be found in said series, movies, etc., it is irrefutably evident that the Star Trek franchise is, and has been, very much concerned with depicting strong female characters. This, of course, got me to thinking about strong female characters in literature, and since the last lit. course I took was medieval, I thought it appropriate to re-investigate some oldie-but-goodies and compose a bit of an analysis of their female characters. So, here you go . . . the first essay regarding feminism fueled by Star Trek and too much time.


Controversies over the implications of engendered societal constraints as they encroach on the freedoms and liberties of the female sex have remained a pivotal theme of pre-eminent authors through the ages of literary enlightenment. These themes, though superlative to the judicious treatment of females, have not reserved all that was intended by the elucidation of such differences. A time of great gender bias was the period colloquially known as the Dark Ages, or – with the intent of having a greater sensibility towards those who take offence to such superfluous trivialities – the Middle English period. A greater understanding of social roles available to women during, and the expectations thrust upon them, can be had by a close examination of texts having their genesis in or before these times. Formally, a subsequent discussion of such, and other, topics is to be aided by the analysis of such texts as: The Second Play of the Shepherds, The Wife of Bath’s Prologue, and Beowulf.
An un-shirking reality to women of such times, a reality which has not been entirely absolved even throughout the sequence of generations, is the social constraint of sexism, as is exercised through male domination and marital status. Geoffrey Chaucer, a prominent fourteenth century writer, among other things, adroitly addressed such marital follies in his revered tale, The Wife of Bath, namely, its prologue. Common age of consent for females to marry at the time, was twelve years old, an age which hardly left the decision of choosing a mate to the persons marrying, but rather to the parents or guardians. As one begins the reading of the prologue, it is quickly learned that the focal character, Dame Alison, was of that age when she first wed, “To speke of that is in marriage: for lordinges, sith I was twelf yeer was of age. . .” The assertion can then be made that marriage was done out of social strictures and possible economic possibility, and not out of genuine affection. This near futility of marriage, with the nature of demands, adjustments and responsibilities involved in marriage calling upon one to manifest maturity and balance, along with love, clearly provides evidence to the ineffectiveness of such marriages. Furthermore, Dame Alison’s slew of five husbands attests to the congenital flaws of said social and marital procedures, lending a great deal to the objective and marginalized treatment of women.
Ironically, at such times, the various religious sects, claiming to share biblical standards with common persons, through the bastardization of biblical text, only reinforced the social prejudices against women at the time. The common perception of authority was that husbands deserved control of the wife because he controls the state, a disgustingly simplified version of principals set in the book of Ephesians 5: 24, 25, where it states, “In fact, as the congregation is in subjection to the Christ, so let wives be to their husbands in everything. Husbands, continue loving your wives, just as the Christ also loved the congregation and delivered up himself for it.” As can be noted by a juxtaposition of the original text, and its lopsided interpretation by religious officials of the day, the original text was wrongly interpreted to make husbands authoritarians and rulers over their wives, instead of loving providers and family heads. It is worth noting that Chaucer was aware of such religious encroachments, and uses Dame Alison as mediator between author and religious beliefs, when she justifies her actions of marrying multiple men by looking toward the biblical example of King Solomon and his litany of wives, "wyves mo than oon.” Chaucer further uses Alison to turn religious perception on its ear, by making her the dominant one in the relationships, creating a severe tongue in cheek to all of its readers.
The issue of marital imperfection and its stranglehold on Middle English women is also poignantly if not subliminally discussed, in the anonymously authored The Second Play of the Shepherds. In stark contrast to Chaucer’s revolt against misogyny and gender limitations, through the depiction of Alison, the strong willed prurient, The Second Play of the Shepherds, an overtly religious piece, depicts the near “poster child” of Middle English women, that is to say, obedient and submissive. “In my cradle abide. Let me alone, and I shall lyg beside in childbed and groan.” This line, taken from a period of ascending tension between characters, is voiced by Uxor, the wife of Mak, a local thief who has stolen a lamb from a band of pastors. Upon near discovery, Uxor consents to help her husband deceive the pastors by pretending to be in the rigors of labor. This instance though superficially unremarkable, attests to the complete capitulation of the wife to her husband. Furthermore, this piece comments on the expectations of females to produce offspring; though not a direct depiction of the birthing process, Uxor nevertheless treats the situation with the utmost tact, displaying inherent nurturing qualities that a mother should embody. “I shall swaddle him right in my cradle.” Again, this quotation, if not the entire piece, comments strongly on the expectation of women to fill the role of mother and caregiver to her husband’s children, culminating in a literary character who is expectedly dull and lacking dimension. The implications of this text, being observed as a religious teaching tool to reach persons unable to attain books or regular publications, beautifully contrasts with the secular work of Chaucer by showing the stereotypical life of a common woman as is perceived through the lens of a religious writer, as opposed to the near fanciful indulgences of an upper class woman. Therefore, it can be noted that the more distinguished a person is socially and economically, the more license they have to live promiscuously.
As opposed to the previously discussed works, which in them can be found female prominent female characters, despite their depiction, the following work nearly eliminates the necessity of women entirely. Beowulf an anonymously written, anonymously compiled and anonymously published article of Saxon epic poetry focalizes on the hero Beowulf as he conquers various antagonists, written from the male perspective. The female character, known as Grendel’s mother, in fact is referred to many times as inhuman, the offspring of Cain, a monstrous entity, addressed only with the faintest of female humanity, “that swamp-thing from hell, the tarn hag.” The significance of the most prominent “female” symbol in the piece being depicted as such, resolutely displays the male dominated society in which the tale was written and is concentrated. The subsequent grappling of Beowulf and Grendel’s mother symbolically reinforces the prototypical patriarchal beliefs of male domination, and its begrudging acknowledgement of the possibility of feminine uprising; a thought that is antithetical to Chaucer’s sensitivity to feminine competency as is stated in The Wife of Bath’s Tale, “I putte me in youre wise governaunce: Cheseth youreself which may be most plesaunce and most honour to you and me also.” Contrarily to Beowulf, wherein feminine power is cut down mercilessly because of the character’s lack of traditional and appropriate feminine traits, Chaucer, in this tale, validates the competency of women and their ability to govern their lives with the sophistication and confidence which would classically only be characterized by masculinity.
Thusly, through the contrasting depictions of self actualized female symbols, religiously stereotypic pacifists and classification bending female incarnations, the definition of femininity is broadened, and the constraints and expectations of socially antiquated beliefs upon women become immaterial, as, yet again, the ceaseless evolution of both literature and society become enlightened.

Phew! I'm sure that was quite tedious for everyone - and not nearly as fun to read as one of Ryan's blogs - but I've come to accept such things. Maybe I can be as interesting when I get an Asian girlfriend.

Also, I know this is going to sound unbelievably nerdy, and I'm sure that if anyone comments, it will be Alli with a textual guffaw, but its okay. I am sending out a call for all Trekkie readers of A Few Lines Mag. to post their thoughts in regards to the literary merit of Star Trek. What about the franchise has lent to its indelible mark on people everywhere. If this can be narrowed down, would this "thing" be universally transferable to all forms of literature? Can there be a quantifiable nature to the success of art? Am I losing my mind? Your thoughts and more are welcome as comments on this blog!

Humanly, Eric W. Strege