The Joys of Motherhood by Jamie Mallette

The irony of the title The Joys of Motherhood grows more apparent with each passing chapter. It is clear that the title of the novel is meant to point out the inequality and harsh facts of life for women in Nigeria in the twentieth century.

Nnu Ego, the main female character, desires nothing more than to prove that she is a woman by becoming a mother. Through the various trials in her life, it is shown how the art of becoming a mother and having children to care for makes life all the more difficult. Nnu Ego tries to be a good wife and mother as her tribe mandates, but her every action is scrutinized. Throughout her marriages and life, Nnu Ego is vilified. However, nothing is more heart wrenching then the end of The Joys of Motherhood. Nnu Ego dies and becomes a demigod that her family prays to for success in fertility. She is deemed a cruel and selfish woman because she never blesses her progeny with children, “ Stories afterward, however, said that Nnu Ego was a wicked woman even in death…” (224). The key word in that phrase is even, showing that her tribe believed her to be a wicked woman in life despite her later prosperity in bearing copious amounts of children. In my opinion, Nnu Ego is being a responsible “mother” figure by never allowing the women in her family to go through the strife and turmoil that she experienced.

It was difficult the to read The Joys of Motherhood without judging the culture that forces women to become submissive and breed for the benefit and honor of their husband. However, I tried not to make such judgements as an outsider to the Nigerian ways of life. Towards the end of the novel, I began to sympathize for Nnu Ego and the difficulties she faced with little help from her husband and children. The responsibility thrust onto to Nnu Ego, mothers and women, in general, is enormous. As Nnu Ego ages and younger wives are integrated into her household, Nnu Ego’s duties to her husband and family grow. I found the ending of the novel to be an interesting juxtaposition. As Nnu Ego’s worries and responsibilities multiply with age, her tribe and Lagos society believe that her role as mother and wife should be shrinking in magnitude. After Nnaife’s trial, Nnu Ego asks Adaku if Nnaife still owns her and her family, a telling sign of her cultural background. Adaku replies, “I’m afraid even that has changed. Nnaife does not own anybody, not in Nigeria today.” (218) This denotes the changing of the society in Lagos and a movement away from the husband owning his wife and daughters, which Nnu Ego does not realize or accept.

The conclusion that I reached is that ironically “the joys of motherhood” are not so joyful.

The Complete Woman, By David Kane

“The Complete Woman”

~David Kane

(11/4/11)

At the beginning of Buchi Emecheta’s The Joys of Motherhood, I was expecting an optimistic romp; the story is set in post-colonial Africa, so while I didn’t think I would be reading a thoroughly happy story, I didn’t think it would make me think about how dire the situation was for characters like Nuu Ego and her mother, Ona. They face the challenge of attaining the mantle of “the complete woman.” It is a standard against which they are constantly judged.

For most of Chapter 2, the narration focuses on Nwokocha Agbadi’s haughty, indomitable mistress named Ona, “who managed to combine stubbornness with arrogance.” (pg. 11). At first, she appears to be whom the author sets up as “the complete woman,” an intellectual equal who “refused to be dazzled by his wealth, his name, or his handsomeness.” (pg. 11). Ona confounds not only Agbadi, but also his many wives, who could not understand how he could love “a woman who openly treated the man they all worshipped so badly.” (pg. 21).

Chief among these objectors is Agbadi’s senior wife, Agunwa, described by her husband as “a good woman. So unobtrusive, so quiet,” when she falls ill not long after Agbadi is injured. (pg. 22). Suddenly, all that Ona wasn’t becomes all that is to be praised and lauded. A fiery and tempestuous woman being presented a “complete woman” was a progressive juxtaposition against the African tribal setting, yet upon Agunwa’s death, it becomes clear that even the village of Oboli is subject to the same hierarchy that is so prevalent in stories penned by European authors. Agunwa was submissive and bore sons to Agbadi, while Ona was disobedient and bore a daughter.

Perhaps the idea of completeness is less black and white than we think. Agunwa dies with Agbadi’s reverence, where Ona dies with Agbadi’s respect. What, as a woman is more important?

The Inferior Sex by MELINDA MEDINA

Melinda Medina

English 37503 (Sec. D)

Professor Laura Hinton

The Inferior Sex

            In the novel, Joys of Motherhood, byBuchi Emecheta,females are perceived as inferior in the patriarchal system of African society.  Women are expected to bare children, specifically male children, to carry on their husband’s family name.  If a woman is infertile or barren, she seems to not be a woman at all.  Female inadequacy leads women to feel unable to fit feminine characteristics, such as baring children.Furthermore, men are defined by the ability to impregnate a woman and to have male children.  If a woman is unsuccessful at becoming impregnated, the fault falls solely on her, and never the man.  Hence, men are considered superior and never are they assumed to be inadequate due to their position in the hierarchy.   Furthermore, women and female children are secondary to males in the African society.

            Women always have a duty to be loyal to a man and what that man desires.  Emecheta writes, “Because [Ona’s] father had no son, she had been dedicated to the gods to produce children in his name, not that of any husband...She had to be loyal to her father, as well as to her lover Agdabi” (18).  This statement is proof that once a woman is born, her loyalty is expected to be shown to her family, specifically her father.  The loyalty of a woman is transferred from one man to another.  For example, the loyalty is transferred from a woman’s father to her husband.  Therefore, a woman never has control over herself, her body, her sexuality, and what she desires to do.  A woman is expected to be content in following the men in her life, and the position they place her in.  Ona states to Agdabi, “You know my father would not have liked it...I refuse to be intimidated by your wealth and your position” (27).  This statement is proof that as a woman, Ona must keep her promise to her father because she feels a sense of obligation to him.

            Women are perceived in the African society as subhuman and as property.  For example, Emecheta writes, “[Ona] supposed she should regard herself as lucky for two men to want to own her” (25).  This statement implies that women are treated as property and objects, and men are their owners.  Emecheta goes on to write, “She is a woman so I don’t see why [she would not go back on her promise]” (26).  This statement is proof that the word of a woman means less than a man’s.  As a woman, one is not upheld to the same standards and expectations of honesty and righteousness as men.

            From a very early age, women and men are taught their place in African society.  For example, Emecheta writes, “My sons, you will all grow to be kings among men...My daughters, you will all grow to rock your children’s children” (29).  This statement is proof that men and women all have their place.  Men are referred to as “kings,” which displays their superior position in the hierarchy system between men and women.  Women are expected to be content in their positions as mothers, and grandmothers caring for the children they bare.  Furthermore, a woman’s sexuality is oppressed in African society.  Agdabi states, “My daughter has been found an unspoiled virgin” (31).  This is proof that a woman’s virginity is highly praised in African society.  A woman is expected to be a virgin up until the point of marriage.  If she is not found to be a virgin, she is disgraced and the shame falls upon her and her family.

            Women are expected to bare children, and if they do not do so, they are considered barren and infertile.  If this occurs they are subjugated by their society to being identified as subhuman.  Furthermore, women who are barren are perceived as unfeminine.  For example, Emecheta writes, “Nnu Ego was not surprised when Amatokwu told her casually one evening that she would have to move to a nearby hut kept for older wives, because his people have found him a new wife” (32).  This statement is proof that males are expected to take whatever steps necessary to impregnate a woman to carry on their name and inherit their land.  Therefore, women fall secondary to marriage and the sanctity of marriage is in question in terms of the Westernized ideal of it.  Men marry women to reproduce other males, and if a woman cannot bear children, she is outcasted.  Nnu Ego says, “O my chi, why do you have to bring me so low?” (32)  This statement is proof of a woman feeling less than a woman, because she cannot conceive.

            It is difficult for a man to consider himself as imperfect.  Emecheta writes, “It is difficult for him to accept the fact that anything that comes from him can be imperfect” (33). This statement is proof of a man being defined by a women’s inadequacy.  However, men believe themselves to be superior and therefore, it is difficult for a man to conceive that he has issues or has a child that has issues.  Hence, in men’s eyes, men are perfect.  Men want to control women.  Emecheta writes, “[Ibuza men] wanted women who could claim to be helpless without them” (36).  This statement is displays that a man desires a woman who is weak and unable to be independent. 

            African society has a lot of sexist ideology where women are considered inferior and expected to follow in the footsteps of the man in her life.  The male figure can be a woman’s husband or her father.  There are rules and expectations set that women are expected to follow.  In African society, men are the owners of women and whatever property that woman has, belongs to the man.  However, in pre-colonial versus post-colonial society, feminism and masculinity, and the roles of men and women start to be redefined.

Joys of Motherhood - Elizabeth Kelman

        Reading The Joys of Motherhood has been painful. Over the course of reading the first hundred and thirty pages, I had to physically put down and close the book dozens of times out of sheer emotional strain. Despite being mostly unfamiliar with the culture and environments described in this novel—any knowledge I do have came from reading Things Fall Apart in a postcolonial literature course in high school—I still felt a connection to the characters, especially the female ones, and was upset by all the travesties that befall them.

Perhaps more upsetting than the unfortunate events, however, are the social structures that I want to denounce but know that, as an outsider, I have no right to pass judgment on them. In particular, I repeatedly read that women are viewed as property in the societies described in The Joys of Motherhood. A woman is the property first of her father, and then of her husband. If her husband dies, her husband’s closest male relative inherits her and her children. Nnu Ego’s mother, Ona, belongsc to her father and was forbidden to marry. Nnu Ego belongs first to her father, then to her first husband (with whom she had no children), then to her father once more, and finally to her second husband, Nnaife. As her owners, these men could beat her, chastise her, and force her to do things against her will. She is expected to cook, clean, raise children and be respectful—even reverent—of her husband, father and male children. In return, she is provided with a home and access to food, clothing and other necessities.

When I read Things Fall Apart, there was a fair amount of discussion about the difference between the European dowry system and the African bride price custom. Whereas in the dowry system a bride’s family must pay the groom to marry their daughter, a bride price means that the groom’s family must pay for the privilege of marrying the bride. In both systems the woman is objectified, but we agreed that the bride price system was better because it seemed to value the female more than the dowry system, in which she is seen as a burden.

While reading about marriage in The Joys of Motherhood, I came to doubt this assumption. Emecheta presents the bride price as the purchase of a woman from her family, which entitles him to the many benefits that come with having a wife. Even Nnu Ego’s name reflects the way women are perceived as objects within an economy, to be traded from father to husband when the time is right; her father said “That should be her name, because she is a beauty and she is mine, Yes, ‘Nnu Ego’: twenty bags of cowries” (26). A woman’s value is based on her family’s social status, the number of children she bears, especially male children, and her youth/beauty. Men, on the other hand, “are never ugly” (75); “A woman may grow ugly and old but a man is never ugly and never old. He matures with age and is dignified” (71). To express his daughter’s value and his own wealth (which are intertwined) upon her first marriage, Nnu Ego’s father sends her off with an array of animals, people and objects. The practice of having a bride price affects the husband’s perception of his wife’s role. As Nnaife says to Nnu Ego early in their marriage, “Did I not pay your bride price? Am I not your owner?” (48). I squirmed with discomfort upon reading such dialogue, as well as less direct descriptions of this inferior position of women. Though for the most part the female characters seem to have internalized their oppressed status, there are occasions in the story when a female character (mostly Nnu Ego) challenges this role, and these few moments give me hope that perhaps the system will change—if not within her lifetime then for her daughters. 

Sula 1st half by Narolyn Mendez

Narolyn Mendez

Sula

            Reading a novel by Toni Morrison is similar to being a detective in how you have to search for the meaning that is attached to a sentence or passage. Sometimes you’re forced to read a passage or sentence multiple times because of the complexity and significance her analogies and metaphors carry. They’re filled with so much meaning that so much is intended without blatantly saying so. Morrison uses adjectives to describe a scheme of feelings, situations, relationship and people in ways that are almost unimaginable. While reading Sula, Morrison’s unique style and one of a kind and uncommon descriptions by way of adjectives and analogies is very much evident and dominant from page to page.

At times she presents events that although the reader knows is loaded with meaning is not very clear until further explanation is given. An example of this is Eva’s killing of her son Plum. All the trouble of picking up her own weight and going down the stairs with one leg on crutches does not make any sense until she sets him on fire. Naturally the shocked feeling of how a mother could possible commit such a monstrous act leads way to many questions. A mother is the person that usually is responsible to give a person life and taking it away seems like the drastic opposite.

Plum’s drug addiction did not make him the ideal son that every mother wanted to have but it did not make him a necessarily bad person either. Many say that there are not many things that can compare to a mother’s love, because of how immensely deep and unconditional it is. Killing seems to exemplify the opposite of what love is, usually an act of hate that spews from deep dislike and threat. Although this is predominantly the negative connotation that is associated with killing, it might be an act of love also. Eva gives Hannah a very emotional explanation when she says, “ After all that carryin’ on, just getting’ him out and keepin’ him alive, he wanted to crawl back in my womb and well…I ain’t got the room no more even if he could do it.” (71). Eva obviously loved her son very much, the way any mother loves her son or maybe even more, and how she cared for him in the beginning of his life is evident of this. The passage speaks to how Eva loved Plum so much that she just could not bear to watch him grow dependent on her all over again because of his addiction to drugs.  His dependency made him a child all over again in her eyes and she had raised a man with dignity and respect. Plum’s actions demonstrated the opposite of this and so it was heart-breaking for her.

            Eva never stopped loving her son, but some things are not matters of the heart and love is not always blind. She states,“I had room in enough in my heart, but not in my womb, not no more.”, which is proof of this ( 71). It seems that she looked at her son and recognized all she had ever given him in love and life had gone to waste and since she had given him the beautiful gift of life, she also had the power to take it away. She had the power to take him out of his misery that she much less than he, had the ability to accept.

Although all of this might be Morrison’s intended meaning, it is one that is hard to agree with. It’s hard to say if killing out of an act of love is actually helpful for someone like Plum that was an addict. It would have been easier to recognize how much love was in the act if Eva would have tried to intervene with his problem or had tried different solutions to get him sober. Her insistence would have spoken clearly to the reader, but killing is such a drastic alternative that it is hard to see just how much love Eva, as a mother had for her son.

Clara Boothby, 2nd Half of Sula

            Having so recently read Passing with the dichotomy of Irene Renfield and Clare Kendry, I was tempted to categorize Sula and Nel’s friendship as another pairing of opposites.   I could have simply pigeonholed Nel as the equivalent of Irene, the family-oriented, lady of bourgeois society, and Sula as Clare, the homewrecker with no emotional connection to family.  At the end of Sula’s life, even Nel sees herself as Sula’s polar opposite as she argues bitterly with Sula who is on her deathbed.  Nel insists that Sula wouldn’t be selfish if she was a mother (142) and she takes a shot at Sula for being unable to “keep a man” (143) in the same ways that Irene accused Clare of being selfish and laughed at her sham of a marriage. 

But if I had taken that perspective, this journal entry would have been a great deal shorter and more boring.  The strange thing about Sula is that it wouldn’t let me neatly categorize Nel and Sula as I’d been able to do with Irene and Clare.  Interestingly, the Sula gave Nel in response to her condemnation echo some things that Nel had thought herself earlier in life.  For example, Sula is proud of owning herself and says, “Girl, I got my mind. And everything that goes on in it. Which is to say, I got me” (143). Sula’s independence and embrace of self flies in the face of Medallions conventions as they are voiced by Nel.  The independent Sula does not keep a man, like the rest of the women of medallion, nor does she want to; the independent Sula is not lonely, even when she has no one but herself, because she finds her own mind to be a satisfying companion. 

 But as Nel was commenting that Sula must get lonely without any connections to husband or family, Nel forgets that as a young girl, she had been delighted by the idea that she only belonged to herself, “‘I’m me. I’m not their daughter. I’m not Nel, I’m me. Me.’ Each time she said the word me there was a gathering in her, like joy, like power, like fear” (28). Nel loved the freedom of being detached from her mother and grandmother, and was empowered by the knowledge that she was herself.  This old declaration of self from Nel’s childhood is sharply contrasts her condemnation of  Sula’a satisfaction with owning only her own mind.  If Nel’s childhood hides the same declaration of “Me-ness” that she scorns as an adult, I have to question if Nel was really meant to be cast as Sula’s opposite.  Although Nel’s words make her sound like another upright woman who follows Medallions’ conventions, her actions cast a subtly Sula-like attitude.  The way Nel’s children are barely mentioned in the narrative indicate that she is somewhat detached from them. After Jude commits adultery and leaves her, Nel is unable to cry for her husband, and later she finds that she never missed him to begin with.  It is Sula who Nel discovers she had missed the whole time.  Nel was more like Sula than she was ever like the family oriented woman she appeared to be.  Nel’s image as a good mother and wife was a façade that her upbringing had imposed on her, as Sula tells her, “But my lonely is mine. Now your lonely is someone else’s. Made by someone else and handed to you. Ain’t that something, a secondhand lonely” (143).

Sula is a book that challenges the reader’s belief that the world is divided into extremes, so there must be more behind Nel’s relationship with Sula than the shallow interpretation that Nel and Sula represent complete opposites.  Once Nel discovers that she was more like Sula than any other woman in Medallion, she muddles the seemingly distinct roles of the upright woman and the renegade.  

Sula Entry (first half) by Gisell Vasquez

After reading the first half of Sula, what impacted me the most was the realization Nel had that she is her own person. This passage, found on page 28, seemed to have been plucked out right from my own memory. I once had a very similar experience in which I realized that I was independent and not a part of my parent’s lives or the part of the lives of people around. I was very young, around 7, when the thought just seemed to plant itself in my head. I realized that I could make my own decisions and have my own opinions without looking to my parents for approval. I can recall the first decision I made was what clothes I would wear for the day. In retrospect, it was the most inconsequential of decisions, but at the time, it was life changing. Nel’s experience very much mirrors my own. She looks in the mirror and says to herself: “I’m me. I’m not their daughter. I’m not Nel. I’m me. Me.” Although those were not my exact words, it was the same thought I had.

            For me, this new found identity brought a freedom that I hadn’t felt previously. I feel like this is the same thing that is happening with Nel. She decides then and there that she wants to be accomplished. She prays to Jesus to make her wonderful. She decides she’s going to go places and see things. Nel wants to get out of Medallion and at this time, this is her ultimate goal.

            This point in Nel’s life is one that I believe all people can relate to. The point where you say to yourself “I am my own person and I will have accomplishments”. Although the passage had a more morose tone to it, I couldn’t help but smile while reading it because it reminded me of my childhood and all the plans I made for myself. Some I have achieved while others have fallen off my bucket list, but the feeling of wanting something badly and making it a point to recite it to myself while looking at my reflection in the mirror is something that is etched in my memory. While reading that one part in the book, I imagined it was me who was living in that moment.