Revisiting the Literature of My Past

I have spent much of my summer perusing literature that is work related instead of what I normally read for pleasure. An escapist by nature, I gravitate toward Christian fiction in my free time probably because it differs from the literature I read and teach at work, which includes classics and critical analyses of them. This summer I have been revisiting many of the classic works I read twenty to twenty-five years ago (the majority of which has totally dissolved from my memory…), and I am noticing some things that never occurred to me as a younger reader. For example, while reading the introduction to Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein by Johanna M. Smith, I observed that Shelley had a rather dysfunctional home life and parents that often seemingly contradicted themselves in their messages and the way they chose to live out their lives. As a Christian mother of impressionable teens, I can see the import of this now; years ago, I would have simply skimmed the commentary and dismissed it as being written by someone with far too much time and imagination on his or her hands. Although Shelley’s mother, Wollstonecraft, died shortly after giving birth, her revolutionary writings about a woman’s role in society and in her home had a continuing impact on Shelley and her writing. Her father’s political leanings and writings also seemed to influence her greatly. Although Shelley was a gifted writer, as a result of the influence of her parents she seems to have been one rather messed up woman. Simplistically put, she, like her parents before her, struggled with consistency—living out what she preached or idealized.

I propose that we, as Christian women often do the same thing—we divorce what we want from life from the truth of our purpose here. The desire for reform is often a very positive thing, but in regard to the feminist movement, we have swallowed the lie that we can and should be equal in every aspect of our lives with all of the men of this world. We demand equality, yet we cannot abide living in the chaos that results when we get what we think we wanted. We demand authority and respect and autonomy at work, yet wonder why our marriages founder at home when we try to lead there as well. In reality God designed marriage to have one leader and one helpmate—and these two become one. We have lost sight of what marriage is—a representation of the mystery of Christ and His body, the Church (Eph. 5:31-33). What it boils down to ultimately is selfish indulgence. We want it all, but we don’t want to bear the burdens that come with getting everything we want, thus the inconsistency results. Like many of the feminist writers struggling against the unfairness and injustices of their world during the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries, we sometimes forget that we are not the creators of the story of the human race; rather, we are documenters of the struggles encountered. How we as Christian women deal with our struggles is the interesting part for me now, whereas twenty-five years ago, I was caught up in whatever criticism I studied. I know what I believe now, and I have the hard teaching of experience to back it up. Now, all that being said, I am going to risk rereading Frankenstein knowing that it can never be what it was the first time I read it. But that’s OK too because I am not who I was either.