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John Eberhart 23
April 2002 Maiden Voyages Since
women see the world differently than men in many ways, does the feminine view
affect how women writers write about exploration and travel?
In what ways do women write about their journeys that are gender-related?
Are they good differences, or do they produce a female self-consciousness
that interferes with the experience? In
this paper, remarks by others who have pondered this question have been combined
with an analysis of thirty-six readings by women travelers and explorers.
Based on this evidence, it can be concluded that women writers are not
predictably feminine in tone or content, although certain characteristics can be
spotted as coming from a woman’s pen. Chief
among those are the tendency toward colorful descriptions of landscapes and
locale, and also the “fear of a man’s footsteps” that tend to haunt the
solitary female in a male-dominated world.
A similar study by Frederick and McLeod also concludes that women writers
are more likely to mention clothing, rape, fear, and the challenge of the
“quest” (xv). Before
the 19th Century, women were essentially denied access to exploration
or travel off the beaten paths. “Denied
the freedom to roam outside of themselves, women turned inward, into their
emotions and their private relations” (Morris xv).
This inwardness helped develop keen powers of observation, a skill
demonstrated in many travel writings by women discussed below. Mary
Morris states, “Women…move through the world differently than men.
The constraints and perils, the perceptions and complex emotions women
journey with are different from those of men” (xvii).
Morris cites the fear of rape particularly, as well as other subtler
forms of harassment, and these factors rarely appear in narratives by men (T. E.
Lawrence excepted). Morris
concludes that most--not all--male travel writers are more externally-oriented,
while women are more introspective. There
is also a special sympathy between fellow women travelers, i.e., “women
confide in other women” (xviii). This
ability to communicate is a noticeable difference in women’s writings, i.e.,
“women have been able to talk to the women of other cultures where men were
forbidden to do so. They observe
more closely the rhythm of daily life--birth, marriage, child-rearing, death,
and household economy” (Tinling xxv). Another
insight is offered by Catharine R. Stimpson in Women and the Journey:
“…women often pay more attention to the process of the journey than men
do.” Why
do women leave home? The reasons
sound very similar to those of men, although the “old male reasons for
exploration-- conquest, acquisition of wealth, and imperialism--are out of
favor. [Today’s reasons include]
spreading Christianity or technology, studying plants or wildlife, or uncovering
the remains of ancient civilizations. [Some
want] to preserve a vanishing culture or protect the world’s environmental
balance, [or a few] want the thrill of discovery, or just the fun of being on
the open road, [while others want to] test their strength and ability to
survive. Some are motivated to show
that a woman can do anything a man can do, or they are simply attracted to the
color and excitement of a foreign land” (Tinling xxiii-xxiv).
In
spite of the success in exploration by women in the 1800s, women explorers were
denied admission to the authoritative explorer’s clubs, such as the Royal
Geographic Society in England and the Explorers Club in New York.
In the late 1800s, however, these barriers began to fall.
As
more and more women ventured out into the world and recorded their experiences,
women’s travel writing attracted interest and study from a gender perspective.
One recent collection of essays, reviewed by Patricia Cohen, examines
travel, western history, and gender themes, such as mobility, departure from
civilization, and the frontier. Cohen
finds in these essays that for women, travel is mostly a disruptive experience
that nevertheless may present positive opportunities to adjust gender
expectations. While the journeys
may involve the expected self-discovery and adventure, some are forced
migrations and captivity narratives. Most
of the essays express a sense of liberation, competency, and a new-found
strength and fearlessness. The
experience of women in strange places allows gender to be “decontextualized,”
and as such, open to negotiation. Given
unlimited time for research, a broad survey of women’s exploration and travel
literature could be surveyed, and a category analysis could be made to
characterize what makes these texts distinctly female.
In lieu of that, a smaller collection of women’s exploration and travel
narratives was reviewed. The text
was Maiden Voyages, which includes fifty-two 8-10 page excerpts from the
writings of women, edited by Mary Morris and Larry O’Connor.
Only the most recent thirty-four excerpts were reviewed in order to stay
within the 20th Century. The
writers ranged from Edith Wharton to Box Car Bertha; a list of the writers is in
the appendix. The writers ranged
from what would be called pure travel literature, to journeys into deserts and
jungles that involved real hardship and danger.
Throughout
the readings my bias was to resist categorizing an action or thought as strictly
that of a woman’s unless it was clearly something that a man wouldn’t do.
For example, if a woman says that she simply won’t start her journey
until she had her morning tea, that was classed as a statement that anyone could
say. After all, many men won’t do
anything until they’ve had their morning coffee, so a woman should be allowed
the same consideration. Given
this conscious attempt to be more than fair and objective, it was still possible
to notice across many of the readings some very clear gender-related themes.
Following are brief mention of those themes, along with related comments
from other sources. ·
The first impression is that most of the narratives were not
obviously written by a woman. Observations
and descriptions given by the authors in most cases are quite gender-neutral;
they could as easily been written by a man, and were filled with vivid local
color and authoritative historical and artistic commentary.
Most of the writing is free from gender-related “noise.”
As Robyn Davidson says, “Plenty of women have written in the objective
mode, just as plenty of men have used the subjective” (Against 254). ·
Notwithstanding the first point, a sense of vulnerability is
frequently noticed in the woman writer, what can be summarized as a “fear of a
man’s footsteps.” The threat is
perceived as either sexual in nature, or like robbery, a function of the
female’s comparative lack of strength and aggressiveness.
Another often humorous form of vulnerability may be an abnormal fear of
snakes, insects, or small rodents. ·
In many cases, where the writer’s experience is more adventure
than travel, women find themselves at the mercy of stronger, more experienced
men to take care of them and show them the way.
Men are usually the knowledge brokers for survival, the prohibiters of
trespassing into areas assumed to be too dangerous for women.
One female desert missionary was convinced that men have higher natural
powers of orientation—-a fact not founded in science, but a comment that
definitely marks the writer as a woman. ·
Women tend to use more elaborately colorful and meticulous
descriptions of the landscape, its lakes, bushes, trees, flowers and scents; a
more artistic eye seems to be at work. For
example, a description of mountains: “on my left, brown and indigo and purple
and softly mauve, stretching into hyacinth-blue distances” (Morris 255).
(The “hyacinth-blue” may be overkill; this is definitely not
Hemingway.) For the most part, the
colorful descriptions are pleasing and effective in giving a richer sense of the
environment. Frederick and McLeod
add a race/class twist to this interest in non-human objects: “Many of the
white women who have gone to Africa…prefer the plants and animals to the
people who live there. Those who do
not despise the Africans just as often infantilize and patronize them (Isak
Denison is a notorious example)” (63). In
fairness, it must be recognized that these attitudes are not exclusively female. ·
Extended episodes in the narratives deal with what are obviously
women’s issues, like marriage, daughters, women’s roles and status,
housewifery, crying while watching a movie, jewelry, roses in the bathroom,
gardens, dinnerware, makeup, clothing, etc.
One writer simply longed for the pleasure of talking to another woman.
Would a man ever say anything similar about his gender?
Another writer couldn’t help trying to figure out how a Turkish
woman’s elaborate robes might hinder her when carrying a child.
And in a beautiful description of an artist sketching a totem pole in the
wilderness, the author concentrates solely on the motif of mother and child
images carved into the wood. ·
Women in the field tend to be self-conscious about being there.
Partially because it is strange for them to be there, but mostly because
everyone else (usually a man) treats them awkwardly.
One traveler started her journey in Turkey by imagining self-consciously
that everyone will see her as a nice foreign lady in a large sun hat.
Missionary women remark that they have become used to being the center of
notice in the desert-—they just look so out of place, and people always treat
them differently, at least at first. And
no one expects to see a woman on an elephant hunt.
In one episode involving a captured and suffering deer, a woman’s male
companions are very surprised to see that she doesn’t react in an overly
sentimental way; in other words, she gained notoriety by acting like a man.
As Frederick and McLeod add, “gender is isolated from its (normal)
context and thus becomes unusually visible to the traveler herself and others”
(1). ·
Women sometimes get special treatment because they are women.
An anthropologist who visited a dangerous renegade tribe of Indians in
Canada believed that it was because she was a woman (non-threatening) that she
was treated so well. A traveler in
the Rocky Mountains went out of her way to be feminine, as she believed it
caused others to treat her in a more gentlemanly and helpful way.
This could be seen as an exclusively female survival skill not available
to men. ·
To women writers there is almost always at least one
“disapproving male” lingering around to scowl and discourage the ambitious
explorer. Sometimes this is shown
only as good-humored banter between a man and a woman (the tenderfoot) during
the trip, but the adversarial context is clear: a woman really shouldn’t be
here--this is a man’s turf. Katherine
Mansfield says that a woman by herself attracts “an impertinent arrogant and
slightly amused attitude,” and that everyone seems to be waiting for the
inevitable disaster to befall her. Frederick
and McLeod also add that there are always “highly judgmental spectators along
the way” (1). ·
Women unfailingly notice and remark on prostitution.
Whether it’s Box Car Bertha documenting “sex for food” during the
American depression, or Maud Parrish describing how women got rich quick in
Alaska, selling it for money never gets overlooked. ·
Women are not at any disadvantage compared to men when it comes to
explaining fear, architecture, nature, ambition, culture, self-doubt, heroism,
injustice, etc. In other words,
being female does not make the author superficial or unsophisticated. Even
though the above observations are subjectively selected characteristics from a
limited number of readings, there is some value in at least attempting to make a
rough judgment as to what one might expect in women’s travel and exploration
writing. Of course there will be
exceptions, and this study could go on endlessly.
One
could apply this background to the reading of a popular modern travel novel,
such as, Tracks by Robyn Davidson. In
this narration, our heroine is vividly aware that she is a woman in an
aggressive masculine town. Davidson
overtly and clearly remarks on the great fear of women: “It is such a female
syndrome, so much the weakness of animals who have always been prey” (30).
The stereotypical male knowledge-broker is there in Kurt, the mean and
arrogant camel trainer who berates her. Many
more of the characteristics above can be found in Davidson. Of
even more interest than Davidson’s similarity to other women writers is how
she is different. Her writing is
highly charged with racial sympathies and white guilt.
She is a great animal lover, interested in nurturing her camels, and not
at all interested in killing for sport (although she loved expeditions to hunt
rabbits and “crick” their necks). Davidson
is also tremendously self-absorbed, melodramatic, sentimental, condescending to
fellow travelers (the tourists), and doggedly seeking the status of humorist.
These traits are missing altogether from the surveyed writers, in fact,
Davidson is strikingly unlike any of these women.
So, while Davidson deals in some of the categories listed above, she also
offers ample room for difference and easily escapes stereotyping. Conclusion In
the case of characterizing women’s literature of travel and exploration, a
little knowledge is sufficient. Although
several themes or styles of writing can be attributed almost exclusively to
women writers, much of it-—probably the best parts--is indistinguishable from
a man’s writing. Certainly a
greater focus on women’s issues stands out as a difference worth looking for
and preserving. Uninhibited
artistic expression often found in women’s writing is also a good difference.
In the end, the ability to recognize a piece of writing as a traditional
expression of a woman’s point of view adds to the enjoyment of reading new and
diverse women writers. Noticing,
comparing, and integrating fresh changes in the tradition would be impossible
without some awareness of what the traditions are. Appendix A listing of women writers reviewed in Maiden Voyages:
Writings of Women Travelers, Ed. Mary Morris and Larry O’Connor. Kate Marsden, On Sledge and Horseback to Outcast
Siberian Lepers Edith Wharton, In Morocco Willa Cather, Willa Cather in Europe Vita Sackvill-West, Passenger to Teheran Alaxandra David-Neel, My Journey to Lhasa Isak Dinesen, Out of Africa Box-Car Bertha, Sister of the Road Kat O’Brien, Farewell to Spain Maud Parrish, Nine Pounds of Luggage Vivienne De Watteville, Speak to the Earth Freya Stark, Winter in Arabia Rebecca West, Black Lamb and Grey Falcon Emily Carr, Klee Wyck Mildred Cable, The Gobi Desert Beryl Markham, West with the Night Ella Maillart, The Cruel Way Rose Macaulay, The Fabled Shore Mary McCarthy, Stones of Florence Margaret Mead, A Way of Seeing Emily Hahn, Times and Places M. F. K. Fisher, Long Ago in France Eleanor Clark, Tamrart: Thirteen Days in the Sahara Dervla Murphy, Muddling Through in Madagascar Barbara Grizzuti Harrison, Italian Days Mary Lee Settle, Turkish Reflections Joan Didion, The White Album Sarah Hobson, Through Persia in Disguise Mary Morris, Wall-to-Wall Christina Dodwell, Travels with Fortune: An African
Adventure Andrea Lee, Russian Journal Robin Morgan, The Demon Lover Helen Winternitz, Season of Stones Gwendolyn MacEwen, Noman’s Land Annie Dillard, Teaching a Stone to Talk Leila Philip, The Road Through Miyama Isabella Bird, A Lady’s Life in the Rocky Mountains Works Cited Cohen,
Patricia Cline. “Women and the
Journey: The Female Travel Experience.” Western
Historical Quarterly Vol. XXVI,
No. 3 (Autumn 1995): 384-385. Davidson,
Robyn. Tracks.
New York: Vintage, 1995. ---.
“Against Travel Writing.” Granta
72 (Winter 2000): 247-54. Frederick,
Bonnie, and Susan H. McLeod. Prologue.
Women and the Journey: The Female Travel Experience.
Ed. Bonnie Frederick and Susan H. McLeod.
Pullman, WA: Washington State UP, 1993.
x. Mansfield,
Katherine. Introduction.
Women and the Journey: The Female Travel Experience.
Ed. Bonnie Frederick and Susan H. McLeod.
Pullman, WA: Washington State UP, 1993.
xxii. Stimpson,
Catherine R. Forward.
Women and the Journey: The Female Travel Experience.
Ed. Bonnie Frederick and Susan H. McLeod.
Pullman, WA: Washington State UP, 1993.
x. Morris,
Mary and Larry O’Connor. Maiden
Voyages: Writings of Women Travelers. New
York: Vintage, 1993. Tinling,
Marion. Women into the Unknown:
A Sourcebook on Women Explorers and Travelers.
New York: Greenwood Press, 1989.
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