|
Just in time for Mother's Day, I have given birth to the most beautiful baby girl. I am
ecstatic, exhausted and overwhelmed at some point each day but I embrace the newness of my
endeavor and the warm and happy addition to our family. However, with this holiday hanging
overhead, I have to ask the literary question: How many women writers had children? And
how did it affect their careers?
Let's look at the women who never gave birth --- Emily Dickinson, George Eliot, Lillian
Hellman, Zora Neale Hurston, Carson McCullers (for whom my daughter is partially named),
Marianne Moore, Harper Lee, Joyce Carol Oates (as prolific as she is, when would she find
the time to change a diaper?), Dorothy Parker, Beatrix Potter, Amy Tan, Eudora Welty and
Virginia Woolf. Okay, some of these women had emotional problems that may have put them in
positions whereby having children would not be a good thing (although we know, from her
diaries, that Woolf intensely wanted a family of her own). And all of these women once had
or now have a long career filled with success and accolades. If they had decided to have
children, would their output have changed, would their talent have gone unrecognized?
In the "with child" category, you can find the following writers: Joan Didion
(1), Toni Morrisson (2), Edna O'Brien (2), Sylvia Plath (2), Alison Lurie (3), Doris
Lessing (3), Madeleine L'Engle (3), Jane Smiley (3), Mary Shelley (3), Alice Walker (1),
Susan Sontag (1), Diane Johnson (4), Shirley Jackson (4), Ursula K. LeGuin (3), and
Margaret Drabble (3). Again, none too shabby a list, right? And, although some of these
writers were faced with mental or physical difficulties, they managed to raise families
while pursuing their art. Sometimes, though, in the case of Plath and Jackson, they were
unable to continue either path and put an end to their lives fairly early on. As we have
learned from Plath's recently published diaries, her children brought her a great degree
of satisfaction and a sense of accomplishment but they did get in the way of the time it
took her to cultivate a literary life of the mind --- and she resented not having that
time and energy available to her, particularly when her lout of a husband, poet Ted
Hughes, was off making a name for himself and having extracurricular affairs. But I
digress . . .
There seem to be equal numbers of women who chose the writing life and became moms and
women who chose to channel all their energies into their work exclusively. Which group was
happier? Which group had greater success? Which group had more members who are regarded as
having added something to their favorite genres of literature? All of these women have
contributed to the culture. So what's the big deal about having or not having kids?
Many writers talk about their work as their "children", their
"offspring". I think it is fair to say that women writers, as much as female
anythings anywhere, fall prey to the dilemma most women who work face --- is it okay, it
is possible even, to enjoy the wonders of motherhood while following one's vocation? It's
an age old question that can be answered several ways.
As my daughter falls asleep on my shoulder, I type with one hand and realize that her
being here gives me more reason to pursue my vocation than I've ever had before: I want
her to know that women can balance their lives in any way they choose and that, although
no one option makes life truly easy, it does make the case that each of us is in charge of
our own destinies. Writing is work, having kids is work, doing both is my choice. I hope
my choice makes me a great role model for my baby, as these writers have often been role
models for the rest of us.
Happy Mother's Day to all the brave women who made the choice to nurture other human
beings, whether on paper or out in the world. What a divine sisterhood to belong to,
indeed!
--- by Jana Siciliano
(c)
Copyright 2001, Bookreporter.com. All rights reserved.
|
