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Gender Studies & Cultural Studies. Estudios de género & Estudios culturales. Études sur le genre & Études culturelles.
GRAAT On-Line - Book Reviews
Cathy Leeney, Irish
Women Playwrights 1900-1939: Gender and Violence on Stage (New York: Peter Lang, 2010). £57 (hardback), 265 pages,
ISBN 9781433103322 - Patrick Lonergan, Galway.
In
the Irish Dramatic Revival (c. 1897-1926), women characters tend to
dominate the stage. Chief among these is W.B. Yeats’s Kathleen
ni Houlihan who, in the 1902 play of the same name, is transformed
from an old crone into a young woman with the "walk of a queen"
by the blood sacrifice of young (male) Irish rebels. Also notable
is J.M. Synge’s 1903 In the Shadow of the Glen, which gave us
Nora, a woman who is as much real as Cathleen is idealised. Nora experiences
the ordinary human feelings of loneliness, desire, hope and despair
– and she was therefore greeted with fury by Irish nationalists
when Synge’s play premiered. The Sinn Fein leader Arthur Griffith
is thought to have been the author of a play called In A Real Wicklow
Glen, which set out to show that Irish women are far too virtuous
to abandon their marriages, especially in the company of a tramp,
as Synge’s Nora does at the end of his play.
Subsequent
Irish female characters tend to shift from the polar opposites of
Cathleen to Nora and back again. Most prominently, Sean O’Casey’s
1924 Juno and the Paycock would set out to re-imagine Cathleen as
Nora, showing that the idealised version of Ireland that Cathleen
represented would, in the reality of a war for independence, be superseded
by the quiet dignity of Juno and Mary’s determination to raise
Mary’s fatherless child by themselves. In short, in modern Irish
drama, women characters are often dignified and always thoughtful
– as well as being thoroughly fleshed out (in all sense of that
phrase). In contrast, the men are feckless, foolish, physically degraded
and one-dimensional. Yet women characters are also idealised, acting
as icons for male ideology rather than as representations of female
subjectivity.
It
is of course ironic that these powerful female figures were almost
always created by male authors. There were many Irish women dramatists
in the first half of the twentieth century: Lady Gregory most famously,
but also such figures as Alice Milligan, Winifred Letts, Gertrude
Robbins, Rose MacKenna, Dorothy Macardle, Elizabeth Harte, and many
others. Yet those writers tended to be taken less seriously than their
male counterparts. Their plays were staged for shorter runs than were
the works of male authors; they were also less likely to be published,
revived, toured, or become the subject of academic books or amateur
productions. Indeed, the clearest example of their marginal status
was that no-one knew until the 1990s that Kathleen ni Houlihan had
in fact been co-written by Lady Gregory.
Such
marginalisation has persisted into the present. Between a quarter
and a third of all of the Irish plays that are produced every year
are written by women. But within that cohort, we find that women authors
are considerably less likely to have their plays staged at Ireland’s
major venues. Male authors are more than twice as likely to have their
plays published as female authors. And on average a male author will
have three times as many scholarly articles and books written about
him than a female author.
There
have been some steps to redress this problem. Melissa Sihra’s
2007 collection of essays Women in Irish Drama includes an appendix
that lists every known play by an Irish woman: an extraordinary feat
of retrieval and organisation that is in some ways more valuable than
the essays in the book, since it shows the variety and breadth of
dramas that could potentially be studied and staged. Also important
is Susan Harris’s Gender and Modern Irish Drama (2002), a book
that – while focussing mainly on male authors – did much
to refocus our attention on how gender functions in the Irish theatre,
while also devising and deploying a fascinating methodology for the
location of Irish drama in its broader cultural contexts (finding
evidence to support its analysis of plays in unusual sources such
as cartoons, public health notifications, government policy documents,
political protests, and so on).
For
all of the reasons above, Cathy Leeney’s Irish Women Playwrights
is a very important intervention into the field of Irish theatre studies
– one that should be widely read, debated, and emulated. Her
focus is on five Irish women playwrights, whose lives and works are
explored in a loose chronological arrangement: (Lady) Augusta Gregory
(1852-1932), Eva Gore-Booth (1870-1926), Dorothy Macardle (1889-1958),
Mary Manning (1906-1999) and Teresa Deevy (1894-1963). The book is
therefore framed by discussion of two relatively well known playwrights,
Gregory and Deevy – about whom there is still much to be written
and understood, it must be said. And it also draws to our attention
to the plays of three other figures who (as in the case of Gore-Booth)
may be better known in other contexts, but whose dramatic work is
shown here to be more than worthy of critical analysis.
Leeney’s
aim in exploring these writers is, she states early in the book, "to
assess the theatrical values at work in their plays, and to explore
how they create images on stage of violence in a gendered world"
[1]. This is an important clarification at the outset: her objective
is not (just) to explore these works as literature (though her attention
to textual details is rigorous and careful) but to see the plays in
their theatrical contexts: to explore them as plays written for bodies
and voices occupying a designed space, and as works that were intended
to be performed before an audience that might have a variety of opinions
on the matter of Ireland (and hence on the subject of the Irish woman).
Leeney also sets out to present "women’s contribution to
Irish theatre writing… [as] a counter-tradition that disrupts
the totalizing canon of male authors" [4].
That
objective has consequences not only for the gendered analysis of Irish
writing, but also for our understanding of the status of Ireland as
post-colonial. Leeney views the "placing of women as an icon
of national value and virtue" [5] as one of the key strategies
of Irish postcolonialism – a strategy that in turn effaced the
contributions of women to Irish republicanism as well as Irish theatre.
As she points out, women made a major impact on the achievement of
republican aims, albeit usually in a “supportive and cultural”
role [5] rather than through direct violence. This was especially
notable in the theatre, where Augusta Gregory’s contribution
to the Abbey’s development was indispensable – while the
group Inghinidhe na hEireann (daughters of Erin) did much to imagine
how performances (including recitals and tableaux) could perform Irishness
in more capacious as well as more liberated ways. The achievement
of Irish independence in 1922 led to a rewriting of history: women
were "represented as icons of this [national] cause, as subservient
to it… as exiles in their own country" [6]. The journey
that Leeney takes us on from 1900 to 1939 is therefore not one of
linear progress but rather of an "early explosion of imaginative
vision, followed by a gradual retreat into coded images of resistance,
self-censorship and punishment" [6].
This
approach to the study of Irish women’s writing will be familiar
to many readers, especially in the field of Irish poetry, but what
is notable about Leeney’s book is that this analysis has rarely
before been applied to a study of Irish theatre in such depth. Drawing
on scholars such as Margaret Ward and Elizabeth Fox-Genovese, Leeney
sets out to show that the writing of a history of Irish women dramatists
should not merely involve "substituting women for men" [11];
a gendered history can instead disrupt the coherent narrative of national
formation, making space for the understanding of how conflict and
ambiguity function within the theatre – and thus within the
wider society. Leeney sees violence as a gendered and ritualised activity
that has, in theatrical terms, been heavily explored by male authors.
Considering the use of violence in women’s writing thus allows
for a demonstration of the effectiveness of her thesis: that the discussion
of women’s writing is, as she claims, not just the creation
of a gendered history, but the rewriting of all previous histories.
The
studies of the five playwrights explore the theme of gender and violence
from various perspectives, drawing attention to points of similarity
as well as divergence. Lady Gregory, it is acknowledged, "chose
to work from within the patriarchal order" – yet although
she sometimes can be accused of reinforcing patriarchal values (as
with her co-authorship of Kathleen ni Houlihan, for example), she
also "resists a dramaturgy of synthesis", refusing to allow
audiences to believe that the "dialectical stress between the
powerful and the vulnerable" can be ignored [21]. In contrast,
Teresa Deevy’s work of the 1930s is ‘most thoroughly a
drama and a dramaturgy of alienation, of occluded realities, on the
margins of the canon of Irish theatrical history, dealing with issues
that were effectively side-lined in the social history of the nation
too’ [163]. In other words, one of the key arcs that the book
traces is the way in which these five authors chose to negotiate with
and against patriarchal norms and systems.
Perhaps
because of that process of negotiation, it is unsurprising that many
of the plays explored in this book originally went unstaged or have
now been forgotten (or both). Lady Gregory’s Grania (published
in 1912) was never performed in her lifetime, yet as Leeney shows
it is a work that can do much to enhance her reputation as the writer
of the commercially useful comedies that would keep the Abbey afloat,
thus subsidising Yeats’s tragic and experimental plays. Similarly,
Eva Gore-Booth had only two plays produced during her lifetime: Unseen
Kings at the Abbey in 1912 and The Sorrowful Princess, which received
a school production in 1907. Gore-Booth is perhaps now best known
to scholars of Irish literature as a figure in Yeats’s poetry
(and as sister to Constance Markievicz); it is unsurprising that Yeats
was much more wiling to write about her than actually to stage any
of her works (though, to be fair, he did praise and promote her poetry).
Other
writers were aware of such marginalisation and sought to contest it.
Leeney writes about how Dorothy Macardle sought to reconcile her feminism
with her nationalism, by writing a letter to Eamon De Valera which
set out to challenge the notorious narrowing of the role of women
in the 1937 Irish constitution. As Leeney writes:
Admitting
the limits already placed on women through the Conditions of Employment
Act (1936) were a lost cause (parts of the Act excluded women from
work in a variety of ways, but abolition of these sections was for
Macardle “too much to hope for”) she suggest to de Valera
a compromise wording, retaining the clause on women’s place
being in the home, but qualifying it with a clause giving an assurance
that women would not suffer “unfair discrimination on the
sole ground of sex”. Despite her tone in the letter, which
was one of moderated reason, de Valera ignored her suggestion. [100]
It
is interesting that, faced with the unappealing reality of post-independence
Irish life, Macardle sometimes did her most interesting work by exploring
non-realistic forms of theatre. As has often been observed, to write
within a realist tradition risks reinforcing the view that oppressive
structures are normal and inevitable; fantasy thus offers the possibility
of re-imagining the real.
Another
person who struggled with realism was Mary Manning, a writer whose
career is in some ways split into the period before and after she
left Ireland for the United States in 1938. "Although her contribution
to Irish theatre has been intermittent," writes Leeney, "overall
it has been wide-ranging and significant, most especially in the 1930s,
when she wrote about the new Ireland" [130-1]. Illustrating that
point, Leeney dedicates extensive attention to Manning’s play
Youth’s the Season? which premiered at the Gate in 1931. Focussing
on "Dublin high life, it was a play that discreetly explored
issues of censorship and sexuality. Leeney reports Hogan’s remark
that "Dublin has never seen a play quite like [it]" [138],
and her detailed analysis explains how and why that assessment doesn’t
go nearly far enough in establishing Manning’s innovation.
What
emerges most coherently from this book is a sense of the radicalism
of these five authors, all of whom in different ways sought to use
theatrical form to both shape and challenge Ireland, both before and
after independence. But what emerges too is the variety of approaches,
identities, biographies, interests, and publication histories here
– showing the diversity of histories still to be retrieved and
understood. And finally what comes through most importantly is that
these writers have been neglected, forgotten and sometimes deliberately
suppressed – not because of aesthetic, literary or theatrical
value but rather because of politics and, put bluntly, patriarchy.
Leeney’s
book is an important step towards redressing this situation, and it
is poised to stimulate both new scholarship and new productions. It
may be a cliché to describe a book as ‘essential reading’,
but Irish Women Playwrights genuinely needs to be read by anyone with
an interest in Irish theatre, literature, and the society more broadly.
It will also make fascinating reading for anyone interested in the
overlaps between postcolonialism and gender. Fluently and fluidly
written, it is fascinating, stimulating, occasionally troubling, and
ultimately very rewarding.
© 2014 Patrick Lonergan & GRAAT On-Line