"At Home in the World" would be a must read for English major students or anyone who has been following women's writing. It was an academic study on the works of female authors from the 19th century to the present, where Maria Dibattista & Deborah Epstein Nord challenged the myth that female authors preferred the comfort of the home. Jane Austen must not be blamed for it, even though her witty tales on love, the state of affair of young Englishwomen, and the social mores of British society reinforced that so-called myth.
"The errant Eve of Eden, not the stay-at-home Penelope, is the model and pattern for their creative ambition."
Readers would be assured about female empowerment back then, as both Dibattista and Epstein cited Virginia Woolf as a good example of a female author who debunked the domestic setting that women's writers created for their readers. Then again, there was nothing wrong about a story mostly confined in the living room. No one wanted a misty, cold day, even if there would be a guarantee of warm clothing (and a carriage). The Internet was nonexistent, so social media was unheard of. And there was no such thing as female backpackers. Both authors would give an impression that domestic life was inferior to the public realm. Austen could give them a cold stare.
A critique of the domestic life may be a cause for a celebration, but it doesn't make the likes of Lizzie Bennet less worthy than Orlando. In Austen's case, she couldn't describe British society better than her shrewd observations during a party. It should be interesting to note that the Brontë sisters used the iconic English countryside as a metaphor for the passionate, if not conflicting, feelings of their characters. The moors, for instance, wouldn't deserve a second look until the sky turned gray and the almost-barren landscape became soggy and glistening with moist. Emily Brontë could have a change of mind, if not having second thoughts about her impression about this part of England. She won't be able to describe such feelings if she had been staring at her bed (or reading room) for hours.
Dibattista and Epstein excluded writers like Patricia Highsmith, whose works intrigued European readers. The myth hardly changed despite the feminist movement during the 1970s. Gillian Flynn wanted complex female characters, and "Gone Girl" would be a case of the possible effects of a financial crisis on a blissful domestic life. It would be unfair to cite "The Grapes of Wrath" as a probable reference, yet Amy Dunne had similarities with Becky Sharp. And both authors were citing a universal case. (Amy Tan's tale of Chinese immigrants in California would come to mind.) They did a thorough research, if not an amazing job. (Many English majors would be unfamiliar with the works of Mary McCarthy, Joan Didion, and Nadine Gordimer.) At the end of the day, these women must not be ashamed about their home. It would be anyone's favorite place.
