Stored with the Golf Clubs: Who Really Came out Swinging?
In the depths of modernist, and post-modernist literature, there is a clear moral divide in what is deemed acceptable behavior amongst the sexes. A form of binary opposition, women are presumed to be the ever faithful caregivers of their husbands. Always loyal, and always endearing. On the brink of such rampant stereotyping, the concept of fidelity comes to play a large role in this gender divide. Men are treated as extremely sexual beings, with far greater leeway than that of their female counter parts. Unfaithful women, however, are scorned and burnt at the metaphorical stake. An unfaithful man is assumed to be unhappy, and lacking something physically on the home front. An unfaithful woman, well, she is clearly a harlot.
Right?
Now, some of this may sound a tad sexist, maybe even cause a little stir. However, if you stand back and evaluate the way that infidelity is viewed in the modern day, it isn’t extremely far fetched. Let’s be honest, as women, we are a powerful force to be reckoned with. And from a biological stand point, not even chromosomes fully divide the masses these days. Nevertheless, for some peculiar reason, male infidelity appears to be prominently overlooked. After all, how many women have been cheated on, only to be told in response, “He’s a man.” On the flip side, a wandering woman is labeled as the equivalent of a red light district street walker.
In The Buddha of Suburbia, we are introduced to Margaret, our literary doormat of the day. She appears to be a little plain Jane, right? In fact, nothing appears to be particularly appealing about Margaret whatsoever. Subsequently, although we know that we should be completely appalled when we find out that her husband is having an incredibly open affair, the majority of us were not. Why, why were we not appalled? Now, let’s wind back only a few short months in time. When I myself first read the novel The Good Soldier, and discovered that the wife was the adulteress, I truly felt for the emotional well-being of the narrator. However, no one feels bad for Margaret. No one even acknowledges Margaret as a person, really. She was literally pushed in to a room with her brother in law’s dusty golf clubs, and left to “pull herself together.” We wanted to buy Dowell a beer, whereas Margaret, well, we just wanted to make her go away.
Yet in pure and utter irony, nether of these characters were ever truly victims of their wandering spouses. But let’s forget about Dowell, he was monstrous. I’m here to talk about Margaret, and her undercover victory. In retrospect, the majority of the characters in The Buddha of Suburbia never quite find a spiritual sense of belonging or acceptance. However, the greatest “victim” of all, Margaret, finally finds happiness in the initially unknown. She get’s a new lease on life, a new career, and a new beau. She even get’s a guilt free release from a down right miserable marriage. If this were an episode of Sex and the City, we would be saying “Way to go girlfriend!” Instead, somehow, this small victory goes completely unnoticed. Hilariously, in the end, her ex husband is even left second guessing his choices in life.
You dodged a bullet, Margaret.
In a primarily male dominated society, damaged women are expected to purely roll over and disappear. However, if The Buddha of Suburbia demonstrated anything, it was the fascinating realization that times are in fact changing. The social progression for women from modernism to post modernism alone is profound. Margaret’s victory may appear to be only a small step in the right direction. Nonetheless, it truly highlights what is actually delaying gender equality, and that is our outdated, Edwardian way of thinking. The post-modernism movement is breaking down these social barriers, and showing us where the problem truly lies, within us. Margaret, a woman, was the phoenix of this story. A patriarchal society may see a victim. However, I see a victorious woman, whom despite all odds, really came out swinging. And Eva, well, she can have him!
