Public
We talked on Tuesday about the public scenes in American art. People are often outdoors, outside....Why is this important?
Look at Yekl's "Housetop Idyll" and consider how Cahan uses setting to construct the scene--keep in mind, too, the effect of keeping this affair in a public place... why important?
Ending
Yekl would have been controversial for its time because it is a novel essentially about divorce. William Dean Howells, an American realist and champion of Cahan, had blazed that trail earlier with A Modern Instance. How does Cahan handle the divorce in ch. 9/10--what does he stress, what strikes you as interesting/strange/notable about his handling of this very modern theme?
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ReplyDelete*Response to Divorce Question*
ReplyDeleteAs a woman I was quite alarmed by the manner in which Gitl and Yekl's divorce was handled. At first it might seem like Gitl gets a pretty good deal. She is now rid of a husband who, to say the least, is not treating her very well. Also, she is awarded enough money to enable her new soon-to-be husband, Mr. Bernstein, to open a grocery store and support them both, as well as her child, Yosele (88). Still, one cannot help but notice that Gitl's divorce hearing does not exactly thrill her; in fact, it has quite the opposite effect. The narrator here clearly explains that the end of the hearing left her "crying as if her heart would break" (86). I have a couple ideas as to why Gitl is so torn up about the way her divorce was conducted. Given the blatant nature of this portion of text in regards to gender issues, I think Cahan wants other readers to pick up on these details as well. That said, allow me to elaborate.
Firstly, why is it that Gitl does not get to face Yekl and say something sassy like: "And by this divorce thou art separated from me and free for all other women!" After all, her husband is free to address her precisely this way in regards to men! It doesn't sound fair if you ask me. Much to the contrary of any notion of “fairness,” such a one-sided approach to the proceedings leaves Gitl being treated as though she should be punished, shamed and deemed an outcast. She is forced to “close her hands on the paper” legalizing her divorce as though she is receiving a sentence for some crime (86)! Moreover, all this is true even despite the fact that Yekl is the one who was unfaithful in the first place! Is it me or does it seem like Yekl is getting preferential treatment here? Shouldn’t the Rabbi in charge deliver some reprimand for his infidelity?
Secondly, Gitl is told by the Rabbi that she "dare not marry again before ninety-one days." At the same time, though, she learns her now ex-husband "may wed even today" (86). This also sounds very unfair, and quite frankly, it screams of religiously institutionalized sexism. I definitely think Cahan wants to call attention to this kind of gendered bias. Why else would he go to such great lengths to so clearly chronicle it? The author makes a direct effort to portray a stark difference when comparing the varying responses of both Yekl and Gitl to their divorce. While Yekl maintains an “ostentatious ease of manner” throughout the hearing, Gitl gives way to a “violent tremble” and sobs that “became still more violent” (86). One could argue that this difference in response is meant to show Gitl’s everlasting love for Yekl, but given the circumstances, I can’t help but think it has more to do with a superimposed sense of shame.
I am hoping that Cahan was a kind of proto-feminist and wants readers to sympathize with Gitl. It appears this way, and the author has succeeded in the sense that Gitl definitely has my heartfelt sympathy.
Sincerely,
Shaunie (Since my blog name is kind of cryptic).