Women and Patriarchy: The Appalachian Way
The stereotypical view of Appalachian familial structures centers on male dominance and female deference to the undertakings of her husband, or father. As with most stereotypes, this view of the Appalachian family lacks the nuance to portray accurately the Appalachian family. River of Earth, as well as other works that we have encountered depict far more subtle familial relations concerning differing gender roles and the hierarchy of the family. In fact, the literature that we have studied has simultaneously deconstructed, as well as reinforced the stereotypical Appalachian family composition. The majority of the women portrayed have been anything but docile and submissive, yet in spite of their marked self-reliance, they often ultimately defer to the ambitions of their husbands. Thus, although Appalachian women demonstrate an uncanny stoicism and resilience, the Appalachian family remains decidedly patriarchal.
Perhaps the closest parallel to Alpha Baldridge lies in The Dollmaker’s Gertie Nevels. Much like Alpha she constantly demonstrates her fortitude in the face of shocking hardship. The first instance that displays her great strength occurs when she takes her youngest child, Amos, to the doctor after he has fallen deathly ill. Besides the obvious shock that a mother must feel at witnessing her baby choke to death, Gertie must drive her mule into oncoming traffic in order to get to the nearest doctor miles away. Her ability to act rationally in the face of a hysterical situation testifies to her willpower and love for her child. Amazingly, these initial hardships pale in comparison to the ordeal to come. Finally, after she overcomes the mule’s stubbornness, coaxing him, “you know you cain’t buck me off, not even if you was fresh,” she manages to stop an oncoming car with by throwing herself and her mule into its path (4). Gertie’s misfortunes continue, for the car carries a military officer who refuses to help Gertie. Gertie, undeterred, declares, “you can shoot me now er give me an this youngen a lift to th closest doctor” (5). Gertie calmly, yet unflinchingly refuses to let the car leave without taking her dying child to get the care he needs. While insisting that the soldier take her to the doctor, Gertie realizes that Amos needs immediate assistance. Disregarding the advice of the officer, she takes matters into her own hands as she fastens a tracheotomy for her baby out of a piece of wood she finds at the side of the road. Clearly, Gertie does not posses any of the docility and passive subversion that Appalachian women allegedly typify.
Gertie’s
explosion into action in the face of a seemingly insurmountable
crisis mirrors the action taken by Alpha when her leeching in-laws
threaten to starve her family. As mentioned in our thematic analysis
of River of Earth, her husband, Brack, becomes paralyzed by his
sense of familial obligation and consequently cannot turn away
his cousins, for “as long as [they’ve] got a crust, it’ll never
be said [Brack] turned my kinfolks from my door” (Still 5). This
adamancy, although admirable in theory, cause his wife and children
to suffer as the food supply dwindles. Alpha, realizing her husband’s
impotence, takes matters into her own hands by burning down her
own house, thus banishing her in-laws from their home. Alpha
appears “calm and triumphant” as she muses over her smoldering home,
for she knows that their new residence in the smoke house will
keep food in her children’s mouths (Still 11). These two
acts find commonality not only in their selfless heroism, but also
in the fact that the women have the ability to save the family
when the men cannot. When Gertie’s husband Clovis arrives
at the hospital and sees his son’s neck, he consoles his wife,
saying, “I hope you didn’t have to stand an watch that doctor cut
that hole” (Arnow 26). Clovis does not know that his wife
not only had to watch the hole cut, but rather had to do it herself. Clovis
shies away from the gruesomeness of the cut, where as Gertie had
the iron nerve to inflict the wound that saved her child.
However,
despite the decided courage and influence that Gertie displays,
she ultimately defers her own dreams for the wishes of her husband. Gerie
dreams of buying the Tipton Place and providing for her family
on their own land for their own sustenance. She wants to
own the Tipton place so that “she might live and be beholden to
no man, not even to Clovis…Never again would she have to wait to
break bread till Clovis brought home a sack of meal” (Arnow 122). Clearly,
she does not relish her dependency on the breadwinning of a man,
not even of her beloved husband. Yet, Gertie eventually
reconciles herself to this dependency as she agrees to move to
Detroit where Clovis can earn greater pay as a factory worker. Gertie’s
ultimate deference to her husband’s lifestyle attests to the patriarchal
structure of the Appalachian family. This parallels Alpha’s reluctant
acceptance of a coalmining lifestyle, despite her dream of a permanent
home of her own that will free her dependence on the coal industry. The
acceptance of their husband’s choice despite its incongruence to
their own desires, and in spite of the strength each woman demonstrates,
speaks to the dominance of the male in the familial structure.
Although this theme of female deference appears in a number of the stories that we have encountered, not all female characters support an ultimately pacifying Appalachian woman. Storming Heaven’s Carrie Bishop contradicts the gender roles that Appalachian society has prescribed for women. Initially, she assumes the role of the hunter of the family, despite her father’s insistence that she abstain from “male-oriented” activities. Carre notes of this barrier to hunting, “I longed to go hunting, but Daddy only laughed when I mentioned it,” saying, “Aint fitting for a girl” (Giardina 34). Carrie opts to deceive her father by continuing to hunt and she even assumes the hunting responsibilities that her brother seeks to avoid. Carrie continues this spirit of independence in the face of constricting gender roles as she pursues a career as a nurse. She rejects the advice of her male and female counterparts and seeks an education outside of her homeplace in favor of sacrificing her dreams to start a family. Carrie’s independence does not always find warm receipt, for her allegedly masculine attitudes make her the brunt of jokes and befuddlement amongst members of her reference group. When Carrie tells her father of her dreams, “he laughed” and she “knew it meant nothing to him” (Giardina 63). Carrie’s rejection of this patriarchal system continues in her dealings with her brother, Miles, as they work together at the same mining camp. He constantly worries about her safety and attempts to constrain her dealings in the camp, which she summarily dismisses. She goes so far as to mock his concern as she quips about her. When Miles proclaims, “A woman has got no business living by herself,” Carrie chides him, “Now you look here. I am a nurse. I seen more naked men than you got working in that mine." Just what do you think you’re protecting me from” (Giardina 90-1)? Thus, although the prescribed gender roles for women form constraints upon women’s freedoms in the mountains, these constraints are not insurmountable.