Yes, I'd like to cash in on this relationship, please.

   Dowry is a concept that both boggles my mind and makes perfect sense. From medieval times and even up to today in some cultures it was and is customary for one or both parties of a marriage to make some sort of material settlement to pay for the union of two people, in love or otherwise. Jimmy Zizmo stood to make a substantial amount of money for his marriage to Sourmelina and as we saw later in the text with lines like, "No dowry!...Why did you get married, then?..." and "If you don't get paid, don't get married,"it also seems to be the main selling point (pun intended) for him. Clearly he does not care very deeply for Sourmelina; in fact he does not really seem to care at all about her happiness. Because of this and his focus on the monetary gains of marrying a foreign girl he ends up treating his wife "more like a daughter than a wife... howling over the price and necklines of her outfits," generally being more concerned with the cost and behavior of his marriage than any other facet.
   We also see issues of inheritance in Silence, obviously, since it is, in fact, one of the key points of the story. Firstly, Queen Eufeme herself used as an object with which the Norwegian king uses to end the war with King Evan. Secondly, Silence is raised his whole life as a boy and is only told of the fact that he was born a girl when he became a preteen. This was, presumably, hard for Silence to understand at first but it becomes clear that he will in fact keep the secret for his own sake and that of his parents when he says "Don't worry the least little bit/ So help me God, I will do it/ I will conceal myself from everyone." It is an issue that continually arises in the story as Silence must work hard to conceal his secret, especially when Queen Eufeme begins to desire him sexually and the struggle becomes not only to conceal himself, but also to stay on the queen's good side so that she doesn't have him killed for being a heretic as the French seems to imply.
   The reason that these concepts seem somewhat logical to me comes about differently in each story. In the case of Middlesex the dowry paid by Sourmelina's family is to ensure that the man they are giving her to will keep her and at least minimally care for her. In the case of Silence, specifically that of Eufeme, the king of Norway must weigh which is more important; the marriage of his daughter, or the lives of his people.
   These circumstances are however, very objectifying for the women involved and a clear statement of the role of women beyond that of wife and caretaker in the far, and not so far past.

I'm What?

We as humans tend to get very uncomfortable unless we can identify a person by using a very broad label. Are you gay? Are you a lesbian? Are you bisexual? Pansexual? Transgender? By using these labels, you are giving expectations to a person who may not be able to live up to them. We can see this clearly in the Thirteenth Century French Romance Silence. Silence was born a girl in a time where being a girl meant you legally had no right to any property or money. She was not just any girl, but a girl of great beauty. She was so beautiful; the author describes Silence in a very sexual way. “And she makes the arms very straight, the hands small, the fingers long, the bosom well-turned, slender sides…” (1936-1938). The “she” being referred to in this quote is Nature. Nature acts as a kind of God-like figure who creates people in her own image. Because women have no rights, Silence parents thought it best for her to be raised as a boy. This puts Silence in another category that she or he would not understand why.

What makes Nature and Nurture interesting in this piece of literature, is their personification. She, Nature, created Silence as a beautiful girl. But being raised as a boy diminishes some of that beauty, which angers Nature. She believes that with all the beauty Silence possesses, he is wasting it by hunting, wrestling, and working outdoors. Nurture is enraged by this because she has raised him the way that would benefit him the most. Being a man gives him so many more rights than a woman would have.

Having this argument about what you “should be” or “should do,” can really scare and confuse a child. And confuse and scare it did. Silence is ashamed of what he is. He is afraid to undress and be discovered. Being discovered would not only put his life in jeopardy, but his parents as well. Silence is physically a girl, but does not know anything about “being a woman.” If we just get rid of all these silly gender standard, then maybe we would not have as many angry and sexually frustrated people!

These gender standards and expectations put a lot of pressure on young people today. I always here how a girl should act and be, and if I don’t comply, I am ostracized for being different. Being different is okay, and not complying to standards is okay. Everyone needs to just live their lives as their own, and let others do the same.

Gender St[what]ies?

As a student of gender studies, the academic readings assigned to me by professors and passed along to me by friends have been saturated by overcomplicated language and theories that would only make sense to a scholar of feminist thought. The inaccessibility of much of what I have read during my time in academia has made it difficult for me to describe in layman’s terms what the heck I have learned at Austin College, causing my family to be extremely confused as to what the connotations of being a gender studies major are. When I read Julia Serrano’s “Performance Piece” in Gender Outlaws, the statement she made, “…when we make judgments about other people’s genders, we’re typically basing it on our own assumptions…” (87) was all too real in connection with my family’s understanding of my identity based on my focus of study.

Last semester I took time off halfway through my senior year and moved to my native El Paso and spent, what was for the first time in my adult life, an extended amount of time with my grandparents who are both well into their nineties. Belonging to a generation predating the Baby Boomers, their gender identities have been shaped by and perpetuate separate sphere ideologies. Needless to say, my interests and the way I present myself are confusing to them; I remember being 19, sitting in a diner with my grandmother after I decided on a major and having her ask me pointedly if I were gay:

Three years and a couple of heterosexual relationships later, I am driving my grandfather to the doctor just days after the Orlando shooting when the car conversation turns to homosexuality. I mentally prepare myself for my grandfather to reveal some disappointing truths about himself, but he surprises me:

“You know, homosexuality is not for me—it makes me really sad, but I have

never thought that anyone chooses to be gay when they wake up in the morning.

Why would anyone choose that for themselves? No, I think they were born that

way and it makes me sad but I can’t do anything about that at my age except

love them. That’s what they are in need of right now, more love. You know, if

you told me now you were a lesbian I wouldn’t do anything except love you

more. What do you think about that?”

Stunned by my grandfather’s admission of love, which in some ways shattered my assumptions about his generation’s bigoted thinking, all I could say was, “That’s really great Opa, but I have a boyfriend.” 

Serrano’s piece nailed it, assumptions make an ass out of everyone.

Is the “American Dream” only a dream?

Within Middlesex by Jeffery Eugenides, the idea of the “American Dream” is introduced early in the novel. Cal’s grandparents, Lefty and Desdemona Stephanides, are forcibly removed from their village in Greece. The Greek-Turk wars included a great fire of Smyrna devastated their village and forced the pair to seek refuge in the elusive United States. They wish to start a new life together, as husband and wife, and pursue the American Dream.

The “American Dream” is defined as a set of ideals of the US that promotes democracy, equality, and prosperity. Often, immigrants, looking for a better life, often looked to the US to get this better life. The American Dream has been a motif that is within various pieces of literature. Most noticeably, this is presented in F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. This novel portrays this ideal as an aspiration that has a terrible dark side. The American Dream seems to be only a dream to titular character Jay Gatsby, when in reality, the American Dream does not exists. Nick Carraway and Gatsby experience how unattainable and undesirable the underside of this ideal can be.

Unfortunately, Lefty and Desdemona experience the darker side of America. When they first arrive, they fear for any illness that may cause a denial of entrance into Ellis Island. A simple illness can exile them back to the chaos of Greece, which is contrary to the safe haven American is coined as. When Lefty is given a job at the Ford Motor Company, his associates try to Americanize him, as with the nightly English classes. This “melting pot“ of various ethnicities would be expected to be accepting of different nationalities. But Lefty is forced to learn English and assimilate into the American way of life.

Lefty also sees the corruption in America during this time through Lina’s husband, Jimmy Zizmo. When they arrive, Zizmo is relatively successful in his American life; he has a job, a place of residence, and a wife. To an extent, Lefty wishes to have a life similar to this. But it is later revealed that Zizmo is a bootlegger, as this is during Prohibition, and is involved with illegal activities. Lefty is soon drawn into this business and later inspires him to open up a speakeasy in his home. Lefty gives up this dream of a wonderful life in American and partakes in illegal activities just to survive with Desdemona and his two children.

For the Stephanides, the American Dream is not possible. The only way to come close to achieving this goal, is to participate in darker activities which do not align with the ideal of the American Dream. As shown with other novels, the American Dream seems to be only achievable within a dream.

                 

Why Would I Like a Book About a Hermaphrodite?

When I first picked up Middlesex, I was surprised to learn that it was a book about a hermaphrodite.  (The title of the book suddenly made a whole lot more sense.)  I thought, I probably won’t like this book because I won’t be able to relate.  I searched my brain to see what I knew about hermaphrodites.  In the back of my brain, I distantly remembered an article I read from the New York Times that discussed the controversial topic of intersex women in competitive international sports such as the Olympics.  (The article is called “The Humiliating Practice of Sex-Testing Female Athletes” by Ruth Padawer for those of you that are curious.)  It featured an Indian women named Dutee Chand that had come from a poor rural area, who had illiterate parents that were basket-weavers, and who had earned luxuries such as food by running, food that her family would normally not be able to afford.  When her gender was questioned, she was subjected to a series of tests to prove that she was a woman.  But, alas, she failed.  It was found that she had more androgens than the usual woman.  So then it was declared that she would be banned from participating in competitive sports.  This woman was shocked.  She was told during the series of tests she had to endure that it was standard procedure.  She was only thinking of a way to earn her family extra privileges by doing something she loved.  She asked, “Why should I change the way I look on the outside, if I was raised as a woman, identify as a woman, and have to compete with other women that may have other advantages such as coming from a privileged background?”

Dutee Chand

            It makes you wonder what she feels like, having her gender questioned when all she has known is that she is a girl.  Likewise, the narrator in Middlesex must have questioned what happened to her.  The narrator mentions that she is born a girl, but then born again as a boy.  In the first few pages, the narrator sounds matter-of-fact, like he (or she) has accepted who he is.  He hints at a budding relationship with Julie in the part we have read so far, and a possible previous relationship with a girl, and perhaps her brother.  Although I had some reservations about this book, I find myself eager to join the journey of the various events that lead up to the narrator’s birth and his life afterwards.  It makes me curious about how he is going to figure out that he is a hermaphrodite, how he deals with it, and how he is going to grow relationships as he gets older.