This morning, I was sent a link to a razor sharp blog post by Australian broadcaster, Helen Razer entitled 'We do not make change by asking for praise about our twats, mams or makeup-free faces'. Within it she complains about feminism's change in direction, or as she calls it feminism's 'mutant daughter'.
She bemoans feminist's increasing obsession with what I would call the Beyonce school of third wave feminism; concern with sexuality and the body at the expense of fighting for institutional reform and decreasing socio economic disparity. The blog inspired much heated debate and admiration, if you want to follow the comments below it.
All of these themes are ever present, of course within the Young Vic Theatre's recent transfer of Ibsen's A Doll's House. The story, if you are unfamiliar concerns Nora Helmer; a spirited middle class Norwegian housewife and her realisation that the life she is fighting so desperately to maintain is actually preventing from living. The fact that 'A Doll's House' was written in 1879 is astounding. Written before Caitlin Moran, Greer or Naomi Wolf were an egg in their grandmothers ovaries, 30 years before even Emily Pankhurst and her suffragettes fought for women to get the vote. Its themes of domestic oppression and redefining of gender roles are complex and inspiring and astonishingly modern. For me the fact that a man, Henrik Ibsen, wrote the play and another man, Simon Stephens adapted it is unimportant. In response to Godfrey Bloom comments concerning male feminists, if any man wants to support the cause of equality, especially as eloquently as Ibsen and Stephens then please get on board.
Praise must also go to Carrie Cracknell's pacy direction, Ian Macneill's transformative set and to Hattie Morahan whose contemporary version of Nora contains all of her requisite spirit and energy combined with a truly modern sense of humour and timing. She purveys the whirlwind of roles that Nora plays in a way that makes sense holistically; winsome wife, honest and desperate friend, proud saviour of the family and finally the enlightened woman. The moment, in the third act when Nora suddenly sees her life for what it is, is spine tingling, the transformation from her sing-song girl's voice to straight talking and rich had me silently saying 'Hallelujah!'. Simon Stephen's new translation serves Morahan and all the actors well. I particularly liked Nick Fletcher's nasal and entirely recognisable Krogstad and Dominic Rowan's drunken post party monologue in which Caroline Martin's Kristina responds appropriately to an incredibly patronising lesson in embroidery.
I have to thank the box office for recommending the bench seats up in the gallery. Unusually, they afforded the best view in the house, unlike many others who I observed changing seats around the Duke of York Theatre. From there I could watch the characters interact as the set revolved, watch the interplay between Nora, her husband and the female staff and witness Nora's face as she exits her home, her husband breaking down in the bedroom behind her. The set affords Cracknell's direction and the script multiple narrative angles, in such a manner that you can't imagine the play performed in any other way. The production also brought attention to sections I had not considered so important before. The scenes in which Nora interacts with her female waiting staff, or the scenes in which her nanny explains that she had to give up her own children in order to raise Nora, state clearly that feminism is not a gender, but a class issue and we cannot assume that Nora's female staff can afford the same emancipation as she chooses. When Nora leaves she explains that she has to free herself from her current institution in order to redefine herself, the two being intrinsically linked. The need to redefine culturally ascribed and assumptive roles is central to all debates, be they concerning gender, sexuality, race or class, which makes A Doll's House just as relevant as it ever was.
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