Megan Verrill
In Bhattacharya’s article “Portrayal of Violence Against Women in Literary Fiction” she addresses an important question – should sexual violence be used as a literary device? Violence against women is a commonly relied on trope in fiction, but is there a responsible way to use it in order to add social commentary, or is the trope grossly abused? The difference often lies in which gender is portraying these themes. These observations are not absolute, but there does seem to be a common difference between how men and women handle this issue. Men use violence against women in fiction as a profitable literary device to fulfill their fantasies, while women use it in a way that reframes the narrative, contributes to a bigger theme, or reclaims their power.
When men write violence against women, it tends to be used as a cheap literary device to move the plot forward and to express male ownership of women. The use of this trope has existed for a long time and across many cultures, to the point it is universal. In Chikamatsu’s The Love Suicide at Amijima, the main character Jihei’s mistress Koharu is a prostitute, and he is a consistent customer so no other man will have her. Furthermore, Jihei insists that he and Koharu must kill themselves so they can always be together, “‘Not in this world can we wed each other, but remember, not only in the next world shall we be husband and wife, but also in the world beyond, in the world beyond that, and so further and ever further’” (Chikamatsu 35). Koharu is hesitant at first because Jihei has a wife and kids, and feels it is wrong to leave them behind. In the end, she goes along with his plan, and is brutally murdered by Jihei before he kills himself. Jihei kills Koharu in order to unite them in a sense, not taking a second to consider that Koharu might have other aspirations or purposes in life. He wants to own her as his wife so no other can have her. In the live play, her death is almost comical, because Jihei misses a few times. Not only is Jihei’s urge to kill her and himself a driving force of the plot, but they make a mockery of Koharu’s death. This trope is also seen in the play The Ghost Stories at Yotsuya on the Tòkaidò by Tsuruya Nanboku. The main character Iemon, similar to Jihei, is sort of mad and kills his wife Oiwa. While Iemon goes on to murder many more, Oiwa’s spirit is constantly haunting Iemon and driving him into further madness. Her death and vendetta is the entire foundation of the plot, and while she does get her revenge, it is as a result of domestic violence. The catalyst of the conflict is the murders of both their wives in order to move the plot forward, as if wives are disposable items. It is used as an example of men’s power over women and does not consider the value these women have apart from their husbands. It is seen through the eyes of their perpetrators, who often try to justify their actions within the narrative.
While these are fictional examples, the brutality portrayed by men seems to live out real life sexual fantasies and attitudes towards women. Men can live vicariously through violent fiction, and so it becomes a profitable literary device. In a literary analysis done by Miriam Shillingsburg regarding the way William Gilmore Simms portrays women, she claims, “This century-and-a-half-old account fits well the modern assessment that men batter and sometimes kill women today, and they continue to get away with it”. Even Chikamatsu and Nanboku’s plays fit the “modern assessment” that Shillingsburg mentions, emphasizing that this has been a long-term social issue. Men seem to get sexual gratification from watching or fantasizing about violence against women, which makes any media that graphically depicts this trope extremely profitable. Bhattacharya points out that one of the most popular TV show and book series globally, Game of Thrones, abuses this trope often. The series tries to depict Daenerys Targaryen as a woman reclaiming her power, but even she isn’t safe from this trope. In the first season, Daenerys is sold and raped but because she comes out successful, the violence is justified. Bhattacharya explains, “The storyline moves through a deluge of sexual violence, always from the perspective of a man” and that “the writers have left no space for survivors to have a voice”. In fact, Daenerys ends up falling in love with her rapist, further normalising the rape in the eyes of a male viewer. The writers must do this because women do not find brutal depictions of violence against women appealing, and often hits too close to home. Therefore, they do this to intentionally market to a male audience. It is also a reflection of the fantasies of the male writers of the show, because sexual assault in Game of Thrones occurs frequently. These works would not be so popular or profitable if men were as disturbed by gender-based violence as women are.
When women depict violence against women, it is depicted less brutally because it is not a fantasy for them, but a critical issue. Another famous play, Machinal by Sophie Treadwell, addresses gender-based violence and oppression against women in a much more tasteful manner. The whole narrative is about the main character, Helen, regaining agency and control in her life by killing her abusive husband. In Machinal, the violence (particularly that of a sexual nature) is much more subtle, and a reader might even miss it. In episode three, there are many uncomfortable instances between Helen and her husband, such as him insisting to see her undress or forcing her to sit on his lap. In a literary analysis done by Kai Bythesea, they address how, “[the husband] implies specific marital rights, and therefore, certain requests are deemed redundant within a marriage. As such, Helen’s multiple responses of ‘no’ are in vain since her husband will never ask permission for what he now sees as a right, namely conjugal rights to sexual relations”. The readers are not given a graphic, in-depth description of blatant sexual violence. As Bythesea puts it, the violence is implied in a way not probably as obvious to male viewers, but it is enough for female viewers to understand the bigger implications. It is not used as a critical literary device to move the plot along, but as a small detail to further cement Helen’s resolve without going out of the way to disturb or shock the viewers. The violence serves a larger purpose that is within the play’s themes. Treadwell was arguably writing for a female audience who could relate, and need no further explanation on what exactly was occurring between Helen and her husband. Machinal obviously would not be as appealing to a male audience, because their voices are not elevated and their fantasies are not played out. The opposite happens, because Helen exerts her power over her husband in the end, instead of the other way around. Except the readers do not see her commit the act, and it skips right to her trial in episode eight. The fact that we also don’t see the violence Helen commits also implies women do not need to fantasize or witness violence to be entertained. Helen ends up killing her husband to regain her own power and agency, further implying that her husband was infringing on her rights and consent.
Women addressing violence and oppression in fiction can often be a way to reclaim their power and reframe the narrative in a way that elevates the voices of survivors. Helen kills her husband in order to feel in control and have power over her situation, thereby reclaiming power despite the violence against her. A great example of a literary work that reclaims women’s power and reframes the narrative is the poem “The Return of Hyena Man” by Shanta Lee Gander. Throughout the poem, there is a hunter and hunted imagery as the female narrator attempts to escape the Hyena Man. The narrator resists and perseveres, but is still constantly hunted. This is a piece where the violence is not explicitly described, and is not shown through the eyes of the perpetrator. In fact, it is through the lens of the mother of the narrator who tells her, “You’ve tasted the honey of his words / it is too late / I can’t save you from this fate / you are headed to Jangare / Child be quiet, child be still / and bide your time” (Gander 71). While the mother knows she cannot necessarily save her daughter, she tries to advise her. This poem also just alludes to the violence, never describing it directly, “I’ll let you grow tall, / then cut you down / Grow so tall, you’d kiss the sun / I’d cut you down and sand you smooth” (Gander 70). It is clear there is violence, but it becomes more digestible to an audience who might resonate since it is not necessarily gory or graphic. Unlike in other works of fiction, the narrative is portrayed through the eyes of women and survivors and creates a space for their voice. The poem analyzes the power dynamic in a way that is sympathetic to women, rather than reaffirming or normalizing male dominance and ownership.
Should violence against women be used as a literary device, and can it be done in a tasteful manner? There is a difference between how men and women frame violence against women within the narrative, more often than not. Men are detached from the issue and commonly the perpetrators, so they perceive violence against women in fiction as a depiction of masculinity, or they get sexual gratification from it. Women are the victims and survivors of this social issue, and do not indulge in the brutality of it. Rather than being used as a cheap literary device for shock value, women seem to give the trope more depth and nuance for the characters and overarching story. However, there seems to be a shift in fiction that elevates the female view and experience. When the voices of survivors are uplifted and the violence serves a legitimate purpose, it can add depth to a story. By exploring this trope and its uses, writers and other artists can become more mindful in their own work of the way this tangible social issue is explored.
Works Cited
Bhattacharya, Deya. “Portrayal of Violence Against Women in Literary Fiction.” The Curious Reader, 23 Nov. 2018, https://www.thecuriousreader.in/features/violence-against-women/
Bythesea, Kai. “Machinal.” Why Read Plays, WordPress, 30 June 2023, whyreadplays.com/2021/01/10/machinal/.
Gander, Shanta L. “The Return of Hyena Man.” Nombono: Speculative Poetry by BIPOC poets, edited by Akua Lezli Hope, Sundress Publications, 2021, pp. 69-71.
James R. Brandon, and Samuel L. Leiter. Kabuki Plays On Stage. Volume 3 : Darkness and Desire, 1804-1864. University of Hawaii Press, 2002. EBSCOhost, search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=nlebk&AN=2113123&site=ehost-live.
Monzaemon, Chikamatsu. The Love Suicide at Amijima. Japanese Series. Translated by Asataro Miyamori, revised by Robert Nichols, In parentheses Publications, 2000.
Shillingsburg, Miriam J. “THE BATTERED WOMAN SYNDROME IN SIMMS’S FICTION.” Studies in the Novel, vol. 35, no. 2, 2003, pp. 219–30. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/29533568. Accessed 9 Dec. 2023.Treadwell, Sophie. Machinal. Nick Hern Books, 2003.
Sprockets and Springes 