Feminist Criticism This House by Maryanne Moll

Feminist Criticism   This House by Maryanne Moll

Roland Raymond Roldan LIT230 Prado Ateneo de Naga University

The short story “This House” by Maryanne Moll seeks to ponder on a woman’s patriarchal oppression, its economic, political, social, and psychological effects wherein the woman is kept in her place. Gender issues play a part in every aspect of human production and experience, including this narrative, whether one is consciously aware of these issues or not, and here it is shown that the behavior of accepting or rejecting how one behaves “like a woman”  not because it is natural to do, so but because one was taught to do so.

This oppression is most apparent in the course of the narration, repeatedly favoring paternal qualities in her choice of words as well as use of metaphors. The narrator’s choice of the pronoun “you” when referring to herself is symbolic to a dogma where the woman is other: she is objectified and marginalized, defined only by her difference from male norms and values, defined by what she allegedly lacks and that men allegedly have.

As one continues to read, one begins to accept this point of view as one’s own. The story continues with the narrator describing an old house as if it had shrunk and following up with description of the walls and floor, chairs and vinyl records. She ends the second paragraph with “What have you done to have grown so much, anyway? It’s not you; it’s the house.” This leads one to assume that she does not like becoming big and growing up and would rather stay small. She also describes the house by saying that “everything is in place” in a seemingly favorable tone. This may mean that, individuals, men and women have their place and they should stay there just as she stayed in her own favorite chair – a wicker chair.

The story continues with the description of the wicker chair. It is seen as a special object; in the past, it was sturdy, secure and “large enough to create a universe of calm.” Here, “chair” a clear metaphor for patriarchy as seen in certain positions of power used in common words like “chairman;” and just like how the author uses the word “chair” to signify the power of the chair over the narrator, giving her security and stability, traits that are found to be favorable.

The once big chair used to nestle her in comfort and wonder; now shrunk, it limits her space and causes discomfort. Instead of recognizing her own person—being more stable and larger than the chair—the narrator blames the chair for shrinking and losing its seeming security and stability. One can clearly see the narrator’s need to feel small and enveloped by something large and powerful. She also seems to say that being small treats one to more space and more wonder—things she’d rather have.

A stark contrast to the memories of the fatherly chair would be to the table and kitchen: words that connote womanly duties such as cooking and cleaning are described negatively. The table is described as round and stained, as she remembers spills of endless drinks, sauces and dishes in her childhood. When she describes the table, the narrator’s seeming obsession with big things and her need to feel small becomes apparent once again: memories of small clumsy hands held by steady large hands.

As she sees scribbles on other furniture, she remembers hiding under the table with her younger sister, a blighted attempt at sisterhood against the “sea of grownups.” Consequently, she praises the resilience of small children by saying “You smile at the memory. Truly children have a way of coping.” She seems to say being small in order to hide from seemingly large powerful things is a favorable way to cope with life.

Again, in contrast to the wicker chair which is full of fond memories, the kitchen is remembered as mysterious and full of strange smells. Now, it is grimy with pans cold, quiet, and indifferent. Comparing women to kitchenware, she then asks “if this is what will also become of women who have forgone their own stoves and hearths in pursuit of less tedious work?” In this question, we see the narrator’s ideological conflict as she holds on to patriarchy; while trying to understand her own identity as a woman. She questions whether or not she is a cold and indifferent person just because she chose not labor in the kitchen.

The cook seems to be a crucial feminine figure in the narrator’s childhood when she questions whether this character served as a reverse-model for her: “Did she set the example of what you did not want to achieve?”  Life choices may have been made just because she did not want to be the fat woman in the grimy kitchen; she rejects traditional gender assignments, and decides to be her father’s equal.

The cook, in the narrative, is described as “a fat woman who constantly smelled of onions and who never talked about anything except food and her son.” This woman’s function in the world seem to revolve around only two things: preparing food and raising a son. It is unclear whether this character is the narrator’s own mother or a hired cook.

The pervasiveness of patriarchal ideology raises some important questions in the story. Indeed, patriarchal ideology influences identity and experience so powerfully in ones very modes of thinking and our emotions, can we ever think or speak in a way separate from it? 

The narrator trips on the small steps of the stairs as she goes up the stairs, leading to a room with the walking doll that used to be bigger than her. This doll, with blue eyes and blond curly hair, symbolized how a beautiful girl should look like. She does not mention the doll’s beauty at all; instead she remembers being afraid because it was bigger than her.

She also remembers being upset when trying to command the doll to walk but couldn’t. She cried until someone soothed her and told her that “some things need other things to move them.” This trail of thought continues as she adds, “Make them move on, even if they were already big things,” a reference to her own state.  

Toys in the story are also used to symbolize phallogocentric thinking: the unpainted popsicle house with cutout paper people and the battery-operated remote controlled toys with lights and moving parts. The popsicle house is something easily destroyed and thrown away, good enough for a little girl;   the toys that the mother buys to her son become the measure of her value: “It is his squeals of delight at the new toys…that make you feel that you are a good mother.”

Another room is described as containing a bed whose head is a cabinet used to keep her pets such as chicks, puppies, kittens, gerbils and a white rat, small pets easily overpowered and trapped. Although she provided them with “beds, pillows and blankets,” they all died one after the other.  The chain of losing and replacing, as the larger provident patriarchal hand controls the smaller and less powerful “pets,” easily replacing them with “new, perky, and healthy” companions, had begun.

The memory of long black snake at the landing of the stairs seems vaguely erotic, as it vividly recounts her father’s large, dark arms picking her up and getting her to safety, holding and rocking her to comfort her, his big voice calling others to get rid of the snake.  A similar memory—that of her being chased by a dog, and her father picking her up once again to safety—emphasizes the point more: “Always this memory …of being saved …you wait and cry in your father’s arms.”

This need of being saved by men now haunts the narrator as she says, “You now judge men by how effective they are at saving you…by how large they loom in your mind and in the physical world.” She continues, “…small, inconsequential men…are fools and you have no need of them.” While the statement seem resolute in pursuing feminist agenda, the statement is privy to accepting her need for the provident, large strong man.

In the story’s conclusion, the oppression is manifest and once again complete, as the narrator succumbs to the clutches of patriarchy, deeming her father as her ultimate savior: “You see him before you, as large and perfect as the as the days you spent running…on and on and on…knowing that you will never fall.”