For Eoywn

Feminism in Myth and Legend

Eph 5:32 This is a profound mystery—but I am talking about Christ and the church. 

In 1979, Genevieve Lloyd wrote an essay that became a standard in feminist philosophy. In “The Man of Reason” Lloyd demonstrates how “reason and objectivity” are “gendered male” in the history of philosophy. Such an argument is not difficult to make. Aristotle famously speaks of women as “deformed males”. Women historically have been associated with base “matter”, while men take the higher “form”. Women are body, men are soul- and so on. All of this essentializing grants men privileged access to the world of thought, with women participating little or not at all. At the extreme end, women are viewed as incapable of participating in rational activity; the more modest view would suggest that such participation is unfitting or unusual, though not improper. So we have Hegel, writing in 1820 that

women are capable of education, but they are not made for activities which demand a universal faculty such as the more advanced sciences, philosophy and certain forms of artistic production. ... Women regulate their actions not by the demands of universality, but by arbitrary inclinations and opinions.¹

Hegel’s statement here follows Lloyd’s history of philosophy quite well. In this view, women are by nature less acclimated to the life of the mind and more prone to whims and fancies. Their historical exclusion from the discipline of philosophy is, therefore, “natural”.

Lloyd’s concern was of course not to reinforce this view, but to point it out so that it might be corrected. If women are not less rational and have been prevented from entry into such spheres of influence because of false beliefs, than their exclusion is an injustice that could be corrected. If a new belief were to be introduced about women, as easy as a sleight of hand we could have parity in the workplace and gender equality in the broader world. Under this view, women have always been as rational as men- what has been needed is simply the social change to benefit their inclusion.

So goes one version of feminist thought that focuses primarily on aiding women’s participation in spheres that have been primarily male dominated. This view sees women’s uneven social participation and disparities in the workplace as 1) ideologically based and 2) fixable. This first view, which I’ll call the trailblazer approach, seeks to address disparate outcomes between men and women- lower pay scales, fewer women in “traditionally male” jobs and in executive positions- and advocates for changes that will increase women’s participation.

The second approach, which I’ll call the radical revisionist approach, insists that philosophy itself is broken. Identifying the “man of reason” as looming in the philosophical corpus demonstrates that the inclusion of women into the philosophical canon is not enough. What we need instead is a different canon, one that privileges women’s voices and is significantly different from the canon we have known. The canon itself is broken, and it may need to be rejected, almost wholesale, in order for women’s voices to be adequately heard.

Note that both of these approachesfocus on women’s function. In the first women have been excluded because women were thought to be insufficiently good at doing what needed to be done. In the second view, women did things differently, and so the task itself [in this case, philosophy] needed to be altered in order to reflect this difference. But both approaches focus on what women do, and how their doing might be better supported. Neither speak much, or at all, about what women are.

The tension in feminist philosophy between what is essential to being female and what is learned or taught and evidenced in what women do is a perennial one. Judith Butler in 1990 wrote of gender as performance, which hitched its wagons to an interest in performativity- that language “does things” in the world. Perfomance became the dominant way feminist philosophers spoke of gender, moving the discussion further away from essences to actions (though “performance”, it should be noted, is not merely action). Feminists have long been unable to answer “what is a woman” without a good bit of prolegomena. So feminists, of all people, should not be surprised when the culture is now asking and struggling to answer the same question.

“What is a woman” is indeed a worthwhile question that that only jumps the shark when it seeks to free the answer from any consideration of biology. To move from an identification of woman as only or coarsely matter, to taking no interest in matter when discussing what is woman is quite a far leap indeed. But so, too, is the feminist preoccupation to ask what women do and pretend that “doing” was the most interesting question to ask about women.

I am committed to speaking about the human person apart from tasks and outcomes. This is harder than you might think. It often cuts even against much of the traditional discussion of imago dei, which can speak of “imaging God” as if it were a task. It is especially hard when you are speaking about gender and difference. The cultural conversation about gender is now terribly broken, but it has long been broken in the Christian church. Witness how “gender roles” have become the chief point of discussion regarding the differences between men and women, and how “roles” are taken to stand in for difference itself. Witness how essences, what men and women are, are refused for a crass exchange of power (“of course women can preach!”). Witness how the good of difference for difference’s sake is lost when the conversation about men and women becomes about what each can do, what each can’t, and how this accounting should be balanced- as if gender were simply a balance sheet that in the life to come will be weighed and found not wanting. Paul himself tells us that the relationship between a husband and wife is “a profound mystery”- a mystery that utters not in “man” and “woman” but in “husband” and “wife”.

It is worth noting that Paul never talks about gender roles- or about gendered identity- separately from marriage. (The only exception to this might be 1 Timothy 2:15, but if you care to argue this you must also explain what this verse means). He does not talk about “what is a woman”, but about how a woman might in her femaleness image Christ. This comes largely through the exercise of sexuality, whether its use or abstention. So the exercise of “being woman” is related to a prior existence as woman that is oriented toward an end, but not understood apart from that end.

Christian theology teaches us not that you can be an exemplary woman, but that you can be made a saint- perfected, as through fire, by the particular calling that God calls you to perform in your bodily life. You can, as a man or a woman, be made an offering. The grammatical form here- “being offered”, or “be made an offering”- is intentional. We are used to speaking about women’s lives as containing sacrifices made by choice for the sake of a higher good. We almost never think of the vocation of being a creature as being made a sacrifice. Creaturliness is more like Isaac than Abraham for many of us. We are set a task or vocation that we did not choose, the shape of our life made into an offering. Offerings are, after all, never chosen. They are given out of a heart that is oriented to God. But no one gets to choose what they will have to offer up. This is granted to us.

Sacrifice has long come into the theological imaginary in the active sense. We make sacrifices of things in order to honor God; we sacrifice money, or time- largely goods that we value but that we could do with less of. We are less comfortable with the idea of “being sacrificed”. Christ was the human sacrificed for us, so the idea goes. Our sacrifices that follow are both less bodily and more chosen than his. But to be a creature is to be made an offering as we live lives of service to others- the old, the young, the infirm, the poor, the broken hearted. We do this because the nature of our creatureliness suggest to us that eternal things are not made, but only given. We do this because we believe that to be made like him is to be offered up, as he was, for a task he could not alone choose.

Women, especially, speak of the “sacrifices” that are chosen in becoming mothers. But we are often given such sacrifices against our wills. Who would choose a child with a traumatic birth injury, one with deep emotional turmoil, one with health needs that require around the clock care? We are given such sacrifices, and we either offer them up or reject them and ask that others bear them. But they are never chosen, not at all. They are offered, or borne, out of duty to a higher good.

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Eowyn puzzles me. Tolkien does nothing without deliberation. Eowyn is a finely drawn character, but an evaluation of her actions is not, by my reading, always tidy.

Eowyn’s role begins early in the Return of the King. Eowyn is a caretaker for the king, and it seems she has served in this role for quite awhile. She has tired of it. When Aragorn is headed on a deadly errand, Eowyn first begs him to turn back, but then she asks him to go along: “For I am weary of skulking in the hills, and wish to face peril and battle.” Note that such a wish is not out of line. Eowyn has been trained as a shieldmaiden, and so trained for war.

“Your duty is with your people”, Aragorn answers.

Tolkien here had the opportunity to offer a view of women’s vocation as household service- but Aragorn’s words do not mean that. Eowyn’s desire to accompany Aragorn appears to be twofold. First, she wants a duty that is less tedious. She is not asking for no duty- just a different one. She has been caring for the king whose health and cognition has declined as a result of Saruman’s spell. Her duty as his caregiver is fitting to her role as a woman, but the need for such caring is the result of a broken order- without Saruman’s spell, such duty would not be needed.

“Too often have I heard of duty,’ she cried. ‘But am I not of the House of Eorl, a shieldmaiden and not a dry-nurse? I have waited on faltering feet long enough. Since they falter no longer, it seems, my I not now spend my life as I will?

Eoywn also wants a duty that she has chosen. Eowyn has been cast into a caretaking role that is not what she trained for. She is ready not to move on and “spend my life as I will”. She strains against the need for such caregiving- she longs for the sea, as I put it in an earlier installment. Her desire seems to be fitting, because she has trained for a different task. Aragorn’s admonition seems to be time sensitive, also- now, for a time, you will be a kind of steward.

Few may “spend their life as they will” with honor, he answers her.

But as for you, lady: did you not accept the charge to govern the people until their lord’s return? If you had not been chosen, then some marshal or captain would have been set in the same place, and he could not ride away from his charge, were he weary of it or no.’

Shall I always be chosen? She said bitterly, ‘Shall I always be left behind when the Riders depart, to mind the house while they win renown, and find food and beds when they return?’

‘A time may come soon,’ said he, ‘when none will return. Then there will be need of valour without renown, for none shall remember the deeds that are done in the last defence of your homes. Yet the deeds will not be less valiant because they are unpraised.’

Eowyn is being chastened by Aragorn to honor her duty even though she may find it base and boring. But Eowyn resists such a correction- she is not any woman, but a shieldmaiden!

She answers,

“All your words are but to say: you are a woman, and your part is in the house. But when the men have died in battle and honor, you have leave to be burned in the house, for the men will need it no more. But I am of the House of Eorl and not a serving-woman. I can ride and wield blade, and I do not fear either pain or death’

‘What do you fear, lady?’ he asked.

‘A cage,’ she said. ‘To stay behind bars, until use and old age accept them, and all chance of doing great deeds is gone beyond recall or desire.’

Eowyn has given us what might be construed as a feminist accounting here- the cage she resists is the one of home and caretaking. She was born for greater things! She wants to exercise her skill and fight, with the men, as she is capable!

One way to read this accounting would be to see Tolkien offering a “feminist” view of Eowyn’s caretaking. Perhaps he is echoing the feminist concern, noted earlier, that women are often excluded from male tasks and that this creates a kind of “cage” for them in caretaking and the home.

The problem with this reading, in my opinion, is that Tolkien regularly takes what might be the “cages” or “constraints” of duty and grants them dignity. His language for the ruler of Gondor is not “king” but “steward”, with the connotations of temporary custody and not ownership. Indeed, duty is regulated by a commitment to the good not only of oneself but of two generations to follow. Frodo regularly puts his own life at risk in order to yield to such duty. So it would be quite out of character for Tolkien to consider Eowyn’s duty to the ailing king to be a “cage”.

The second puzzle arises at the Battle of Pelennor Fields. This is a major battle with new fighters sent by Sauron. The Nazgul rode atop the Fellbeasts and together made a terrifying enemy. Theoden has been mortally wounded. Just when Merry’s fate seems sealed, Dernhelm appears and slays the Fell Beast.

“No living man may hinder me!”, the beast cries.

“But no living man am I! You look upon a woman.”

Eowyn appearing right when hope was lost, dressed as a man, and slaying the beast that no man can slay would be the perfect feminist counter to Aragorn’s instruction that Eowyn should mind her duty. The problem, as I see it, is that all of this is a bit too on the nose for Tolkien, who writes in layered metaphor and carefully situates his moral imaginary. It also cuts against Tokien’s view of duty as the trait that is to be privileged over valor. In fact, valor is only understood in relation to duty- war for its own sake is not a good! Violence in Tolkien is only an accommodation to the times, never a good in itself. So Eowyn’s desire to fight for its own sake would not be a good, though her desire to come to the aid of the Fellowship could be. But I don’t believe Tolkien would consider valor in battle to be greater than valor in stewardship. Tom Bombadil, the great peaceable figure of the first volume, one who has never known war, would seem the correction to a desire to honor valor for its own sake.

What do you think? What does it mean that Eowyn is a woman, if anything?

There is not much more irritating to me than evangelical women seeking to revive a midcentury feminism that focused largely on roles, duties, and increasing women’s participation in traditionally male spaces. Perhaps women do not need institutions, because motherhood has allotted us a legacy that will long outlive our efforts. This fiat is the loudest word in the world, that in one moment one might be made an offering that will outlast any institution building, any church growth, any marketplace mastery. Doings and tasks may yell, but quiet offerings go about remaking the world.

1. https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/feminism-femhist/