I remember very clearly when I first came across the term 'The Woman Question'. It was some time in 2018, and I had only been in Sixth Form for a couple of months. So, naturally, I had a lot of time on my hands to complete rigorous wider reading for my English Literature course. Back then, before the true weight of A-Levels was placed on my shoulders, I actually enjoyed wider reading - I'm afraid this has changed a little bit since then. There were only about ten minutes left of my free period; most people, by this point, had started easing into break-time conversations, packing their books away and gathering with their friends like swarms of bees. I, on the other hand, tried to squeeze as much productivity as I could out of those ten minutes - that thin sliver of time - wading through books and finding the chapters that I deemed most interesting. On this particular day, I happened to stumble across a book containing several in-depth chapters on Victorian Literature, one of which focused on the plight of women.
And there it was: 'The Woman Question'. The words stuck out to me like a lighthouse in a storm, piquing my curiosity. The term certainly intrigued me, even if my first thought was that it could bag me a few extra marks in my English Literature essays. All jokes aside, something more pressing became clear to me with every new word I read: 'The Woman Question', posed and debated by women in the 19th century, had still not been answered.
The emergence of 'The Woman Question' in the Victorian era found its origins in intellectual debates that had taken place centuries before; writers and critics gradually became more interested in the precise role of women in society - as if such a role had to be reduced down to a plain list of do's and don'ts to comply with. The idea that women were actually capable of carving out a life for themselves was, at this precise moment in history, ludicrous. Victorian women hung onto this concept and believed that, in reigniting the debate, they could spark revolutionary change. Women's suffrage was being denied time and again, their legal rights in marriage were akin to some kind of oppressive chain that tied them to their husbands' evident superiority. White, middle-class men were publishing critical works rapidly, reinforcing the domestic and subjugated role assigned to women, in an attempt to match the brisk pace at which women were trying to counteract these very assertions. Henry Maudsley, a 19th century British psychiatrist, argued that women should be denied the right to an education, because it used up mental and bodily energy deemed vital for reproduction. William Acton's 1857 publication 'The Functions and Disorders of the Reproductive System' denied women pleasure in sex through the apparently acceptable and logical claim that it was antithetical to healthy procreation.
It would be wrong for me to maintain a pessimistic outlook and claim that things did not change. They did. 1857 saw recognition of marital violence as a reason for divorce, and female authors, such as Elizabeth Barrett-Browning, were challenging literary norms through writing in what has often been described as a 'masculine style'. By 1918, female suffrage had been achieved, and this is very often where the story ends, at least within the walls of the classroom. The idea is presented to us that women refused to accept their position in society, subsequently resisting the patriarchy through a series of triumphant acts and protests, which eventually led to a parity-loving nation that enabled female suffrage. 'The Woman Question' had finally been answered, right?
Not at all. More than one hundred years on from this period, we still find ourselves grappling with 'The Woman Question' and the answer that it has failed to deliver us. This has left behind a path of destruction. Our identities are determined by oppressive feminine ideals, which simply originate from a social construct. More is now expected of women than never before. The high-earning CEO of her own business is also expected to raise the children, cook the dinners, organise the play dates and maintain a desirable physique for her hard-working partner. And, despite all these achievements, an article written by Donna Ferguson from The Guardian has revealed that mothers are typically providing at least 50% more childcare during the coronavirus pandemic, as well as spending around 10% to 30% more time than fathers home schooling their children (figures analysed by the Observer).
So, whilst the modern woman is facing different challenges compared to the Victorian woman, they are still challenges. Sure, the issues they are facing have somewhat changed as society itself has developed; for example, perhaps William Acton's publication would best be represented through a misogynistic tweet nowadays, and I am certain that Henry Maudsley would be bitterly opposed to organisations, such as WISE and the Association for Women in Science, which attempt to engage female school pupils in STEM subjects. Yet, one thing remains blatantly clear: we are not equal.
I would love more than anything to publish this post with a neat and tidy check list of things that we can all do to achieve gender equality. But nothing is every really that simple, is it? I will also admit that I am not the most knowledgeable when it comes to this topic. Yes, I have my own opinions and I definitely know where I stand. I may not know all the facts and statistics, I may not know many of the fancy feminist terms that are thrown around in newspapers and televised debates, and perhaps I am not always the most confident in my arguments, leaving that task to others whilst I simply sit and nod. Yet, as a woman, I know who I am, what I deserve and how I should be treated. Fact.
This continuous struggle for women has become so central to my thoughts in the last few years, primarily because... well... I'm a woman! I am no longer the young, naive child that I used to be, and, unfortunately, I have grown up in a society in which attention must be drawn towards gender disparity, in which young girls must be warned of the gross appetite of dissatisfied men. Having studied texts, such as Ibsen's 'A Doll's House' and Shakespeare's 'Hamlet', it's incredibly hard not to identify similarities between, let's say, Nora's denied dream of entering the public sphere and gender discrimination in the workplace today. Yet, what is even more heartbreaking is the realisation of how frequently these issues define my generation's experiences. To hear of friends who have suffered at the hands of mistreatment and abuse, to hear of young people, my own age and walking the same school corridors as I do, who are still ardently denying the existence of the patriarchy. It makes this world in which I live feel hyper-real. It makes me feel like I'm living in the 19th century.
So, it now feels appropriate to come to some sort of conclusion, if that is even possible. It is very easy to get lost in thoughts such as these, untangling one consideration after the next and trying to make sense of something that is, ultimately, inconceivable. As I said, I don't have any answers, but I believe that they can be found in compassion, kindness and solidarity. I believe that this answer can be found in the politicians, the protestors, the writers and the normal civilians, who speak up about their experiences with absolute bravery and courage. Even just by focusing on these incredible women, we should feel uplifted, hopeful and, most importantly, proud to be part of a kick-ass generation of amazing women.
I have hopes and dreams and a vision of a society in which I would like to live, in which I would like future generations to live. And, thus, our only duty is to remain true to ourselves and what we believe in. Perhaps, then, change will really begin to occur. Perhaps, when we all stay true to ourselves and hold our values high above our heads, we will finally find the all-so-glorious answer to the question that generations have been debating for centuries. The answer of how we can stop living in the past.