Corporalidad, Maternidades y Género en Literatura

Lucía Caminada Rossetti 
Profesora Catedrático, Universidad Nacional del Nordeste, Argentina

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La Conversación

LC: Estamos muy orgullosxs de poder contar con tu aporte para la revista y que puedan divulgarse tu trabajo y tus ideas de forma mundial. Quisiera saber ¿cómo surge tu interés por los estudios de la corporalidad y las maternidades en la literatura? ¿y cómo cruza el género esos discursos?

ND: Ese impulso inicial de elección del tema de la maternidad estaba ligada a pensarla en relación con la literatura: qué decisiones textuales de representación y enunciativos traía esa pregunta; qué presencias o ausencias determinaba en una literatura como la argentina. Eran los años noventa, predominaba dentro de los feminismos una posición contra los biologismos y la relación con el cuerpo, había que evitarla o pensar muy sutilmente como hacer ingresar al cuerpo teóricamente. Leía a Irigaray, Cixous y Kristeva con mucho interés y muy seducida por sus ideas y propuestas. Las tres eran calificadas por otros grupos feministas muy rápidamente como esencialistas. Yo, traté de entrar a sus discursos por tangentes. El cuerpo a cuerpo con la madre de Irigaray me permitía pensar la relación entre dos mujeres; el nacimiento como una hecatombe sobre la identidad de la mujer que estudia Kristeva en “Stabat Matter” me llevaba a ver el corte material y simbólico de la relación entre los cuerpos, los textos de Cixous me enfrentaban a un campo de metáforas del cuerpo de la madre que eran extraordinarias. Es decir, buscaba como vías indirectas para obviar el cuerpo. Tal vez esa tangente me hizo perder tiempo, no lo sé. En los años siguientes el cuerpo se convirtió en el centro de reflexiones antropológicas, filosóficas, políticas, activistas y pasó a ser el eje sobre el cual armar líneas, rastros, capas de sentidos Si uno lee textos que dan cuenta de la experiencia de la maternidad, una perspectiva muy extendida en escritoras actuales, el cuerpo y sus transformaciones  y zonas de contacto son centrales como objeto narrativo o el desarrollo sobre la teoría del tacto o sobre la voz –para dar solo dos ejemplos- rodean y ponen al cuerpo en primer plano. Pero en esa época, yo no leía solo a las escritoras y una de mis hipótesis primeras fue que la madre era la gran ausente de la literatura argentina.

LC: En los estudios de género centrados particularmente en la literatura, en Argentina eres una referente sobre el tema ¿quiénes han influido en tu trabajo e investigaciones ? ¿Cuales han sido tus preferencias de lectura y análisis a la hora de determinar criterios de construcción del genéro/genéros?

ND: Mi referente principal fue Josefina Ludmer.  Fue mi maestra de teoría literaria. Ella traía al grupo en el que estaba las primeras lecturas sobre crítica literaria feminista: Gilbert y Gubar,  Armstrong, Nancy Miller. Simultáneamente leí a las criticas latinoamericanas. El libro de Francine Masiello sobre las mujeres y la política en la literatura y el periodismo entre 1830 y 1930 fue un libro de una densidad crítica e histórica deslumbrante.  También en el cambio de siglo, Jean Franco y su libro sobre las conspiradoras que recorría la literatura mexicana no podía obviarse para encontrar allí modelos de análisis. Otra de mis favoritas fue Sylvia Molloy. Cada una de sus lecturas desde el género se convirtieron en fundamentales, en objeto de enseñanza; esos modos de diseccionar un procedimiento textual y convertirlo en político como hace con los cisnes ensangrentados de Delmira Agustini o el peluquero afeminado de uno de los Viajes de Sarmiento, tienen un espesor teórico necesaria para producir una lectura paradigmática sobre los géneros.  Actualmente o desde hace unos años  me interesa en particular el pensamiento de Nelly Richard, sus articulaciones de memoria, cuerpo, literatura y política.

LC: Estas dirigiendo una colección de tomos de Historia feminista de la literatura argentina ¿Cómo piensas y organizas cada tomo? ¿Cómo son tus ideas sobre el impacto de este proyecto?

ND: Lo primero que tengo que decir es que es un trabajo colectivo. El impulso de llevarlo adelante, el diseño del proyecto, sus temas, determinadas decisiones acerca de periodizaciones, elecciones de autores, fue en todos los casos resultados de profundas discusiones grupales. Fue muy estimulante el trabajo en sus diferentes etapas, también trabajoso porque lo hicimos prácticamente sin fondos. Salvo la decisión de la editorial EDUVIM de hacerse cargo de publicar cinco volúmenes de casi mil páginas cada uno. Un esfuerzo editorial, descomunal en etapas de  falta de presupuesto universitario.  Adoro a este proyecto y a todas las compañeras que lo hacemos. Recibimos muy buenas recepciones; es una apuesta políticamente jugada y novedosa. Creo que tal vez las lecturas más sustanciosas irán llegando en estos años que  vienen y espero que también los impactos sobre los modos de pensar la historia literaria.

LC: En tu libro El revés del rostro. Figuras de la exterioridad en la cultura argentina (2021) trabajas cuestiones ligadas a femicidios y violencias no tanto centrado en el cuerpo sino particularmente en el rostro. ¿podrías contarnos el proceso del libro?

ND: La idea del rostro como objeto de análisis surgió de un relato de Silvina Ocampo. Coincidió con los últimos pasos que estaba dando sobre la maternidad y literatura. En este libro aparecen embrionariamente dos de las imágenes que desarrollé en El revés del rostro: la del rostro como objeto de invención literaria de una madre y la cara de su hijo y el rostro femenino como superficie de una crueldad patriarcal casi innombrable: el rostro atacado, deformado y destruido por el ácido en El desierto y su semilla de Jorge Barón Biza. Esos dos textos me deslumbraron cada uno con una fuerza literaria diferente que me despertaron el deseo de trabajar sus procedimientos textuales. Luego otros temas se fueron anudando y conformando como series de rostros: la belleza-no belleza femenina, el rostro reproducido de Eva Perón o la tensión de clase expresada en los rostros enfrentados de amas y criadas. Así, indirectamente, llegué a toparme con las diferentes violencias sobre los rostros de mujeres.

LC: Tu reconocida obra De donde vienen los niños. Maternidad y escritura en la cultura argentina, estudia cuestiones en relación con maternidades posibles tanto en la literatura como en discursos culturales. Recientemente hay un estallido del tópico de las maternidades en la literatura latinoamericana  ¿cómo lees esto?

ND: Todavía no tengo una respuesta concreta. Sigo asombrada por la irrupción del tema no solo en la literatura argentina sino latinoamericana y española e, incluso internacional. Seguro que el desarrollo y avance de los feminismos han dejado marcas en los temas que se han alcanzado a las escritoras, en el descubrimiento de un campo imaginario con muchas posibilidades narrativas. La presencia masiva de los feminismos cambió las subjetividades, alentó transformaciones sociales, políticas, personales y la literatura se nutrió y nutrió a esos cambios. Lo que es sin duda una constatación es la enorme cantidad de estos textos, su heterogeneidad narrativa y una calidad notable aunque desde ya no absoluta.

LC: ¿Cómo piensas las políticas feministas en contexto de extrema derecha? ¿cómo afecta el estudio y el avance de la ciencia?

ND: Estoy muy afectada por el avance y establecimiento de las derechas. Miro el presente y el panorama general y no salgo de mi asombro. Tenemos que tratar de encontrar lecturas que nos permitan entender, escuchar y mirar todo lo que se dice y se hace. Y aun no sé cómo vamos a reaccionar como feministas. Sin duda la salida es colectiva, de acciones y pensamiento colectivos. Un ámbito que habrá que analizar y cuidar es el del aula, la transmisión de nuestras ideas.

LC: Has trabajado con diversas  instituciones universitarias. ¿Cómo crees que se construyen las corporalidades y el género desde esos ámbitos?

ND: Creo que las instituciones universitarias en la Argentina han sido sede de una cantidad de cambios en la docencia, en los planes de estudio, en el dictado de seminarios temáticos, en la creación de centros o cátedras para regular y combatir las violencias. Han sido más o menos eficaces. Los centros de estudiantes han sido muy premeables a los cambios de la concientización de las políticas de género.  Dicté seminario sobre género desde 1991 y formé estudiantes que desde hace muchos años dan sus propios cursos. Las políticas de investigación también han sido permeables al desarrollo de estos temas.

LC: Nos gustaría si pudieras darnos algunos ejemplos de cómo realizas tu  trabajo de investigación, cómo seleccionas corpus, qué lleva a delinear líneas para pensar el gender en el presente¿

ND: Mis trabajos actuales difieren de los modos de proceder que desarrollé con mis libros donde buscaba cierta exhaustividad o un planteo novedoso del tema. Siempre pienso teóricamente. A veces es una novela que me despierta una pregunta analítica y a partir de ella establezco relaciones con otras o con un eje teórico. En mi último libro Traer el mundo al mundo. Panoramas,  publicado por la editorial Vera Cartonera volví al tema de la maternidad ya con la idea de cerrarlo pero la elección de las novelas fue decididamente porque las tres que elegí me gustaron mucho, aportaban a nuevas maneras de pensar lo materno a pesar de que alguno de los personajes no eran madres sino madres temporales y sustitutas como la de Mugre rosa de Fernanda Trías o una maternidad en la calle en un contexto poshumano con neonatos fuera del cuerpo como Sumar de Diamela Eltit. En este libro sí que trabajo los cuerpos. Leí mucho de lo que se había publicado pero finalmente me quedé con tres novelas que para mí planteaban modos novedosos sobre el imaginario de la maternidad. En este libro y con este tema estaba dentro del campo del gender. Nunca aplico ideas sino siempre trato de que sean las capas y sentidos de los textos los que me llevan a pensar y buscar material teórico para que dialogue con las novelas o cuentos.

LC: Por último, quisiera agradecerte por tu valioso aporte y asimismo que nos cuentes un poco de tu investigación actual¿

Estoy tratando de escribir un capítulo para el último tomo que va a salir de la Historia feminista, el referido a las primeras décadas del siglo XX. Estoy tratando de pensar el concepto de personaje, en este caso femenino que no sea de una manera tradicional. En ese desafío estoy.

También estamos armando con otras dos compañeras un glosario conceptual que rastree los tomos y sus modos de pensarlos.

Lucía Caminada Rossetti es catedrática de Literatura Argentina II en la Universidad Nacional del Nordeste. Es directora del Proyecto y grupo de Investigación Manifestaciones y narrativas en Argentina: literaturas y culturas . Como profesora invitada dictó seminarios y cursos en India, Italia y España y realizó estancias de investigación en la Universidad de París 8 y Università di Padova y Perugia. Es autora de los libros La mirada dislocada. Literatura, imagen, territorios , Prometeo, Caba, 2020 y junto con Ricardo Peréz Martínez En la interzona . Ensayos de estudios culturales. UNAM, México, 2023 al igual que dos tomos de políticas y narrativas del cuerpo (2022, 2024, Ledizioni Milán).

In (M)other Words: Writings on Mothering and Motherhood, 2009-2024 by Andrea O’Reilly

Demeter Press, May 2024, pp. 533, ISBN: 978-1-77258-527-8.

Review and Interview by
Veronica Frigeni 
Visiting Scholar in Residence in Gender Studies, Central European University.

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The Review

Andrea O’Reilly’s anthology, In (M)other Words: Writings on Mothering and Motherhood, 2009-2024, stands as a landmark contribution to the field of maternal scholarship, offering a comprehensive examination that spans a quarter-century of thought and discourse. Comprising twenty-five meticulously selected essays, this anthology navigates the intricate terrain of maternal theory, praxis, identity and representation with nuanced sophistication. O’Reilly adeptly orchestrates a discourse that traverses a diverse spectrum of themes, from the theoretical underpinnings of motherhood studies, maternal theory, matricentric feminism and matricritics, to the lived experiences of mothering, including outlaw, queer, pandemic, ambivalent and joyful mothers. These themes emerge as the guiding leitmotifs in her anthology, capturing crucial moments in her dialectical articulation of the emergence of motherhood as a scholarly inquiry, where recuperation and revolution of motherhood intersect, illuminating the transformative potential of maternal agency amidst patriarchal hegemonies. Throughout the book, O’Reilly engages in dialogues with scholars and practitioners from around the world, offering insights gleaned from interviews and collaborative endeavours in the context of matrilineal and mothering solidarity.

Notably, the book begins and ends with two thought-provoking interviews, which serve to contextualise and frame the collection as part of a dynamic dialogue that encourages readers to engage with its content in a personal and interactive manner. The first interview, conducted by Zita Kārkla in Latvia, in 2024, offers insight into O’Reilly’s reflections on matricentric feminism, as well as on the trajectory of motherhood studies over the past decades. This introductory conversation sets the stage for the subsequent, rich and multifaceted exploration, providing valuable insights into the author’s motivations and perspectives. Furthermore, as the last piece to be composed, it gives a reflective bookend to the entire collection. This provides O’Reilly with a chance to revisit and expand upon key themes and insights, leaving readers with a renewed sense of purpose in their own explorations of motherhood and feminism. The concluding essay features a thought-provoking conversation with Sara Ruddick from 2009, prompting readers to reflect on maternal thinking and mothering as a verb, as a form of work, rather than as an identity. These dialogues serve to elucidate the nuances of key issues pertaining to motherhood and mothering, and their contemporary relevance to maternal and feminist thought and activism. Moreover, they reveal how articulating and examining mothering words is an embodied effort which directly speaks to one’s lived experiences and subject positionalities.

At the heart of O’Reilly’s theoretical framework lies the foundational feminist principle that “the personal is political,” which deeply influences the thematic fabric of the anthology. This principle underscores the idea that personal experiences are inherently intertwined with broader socio-political dynamics. In the context of motherhood, it sheds light on two key aspects. Firstly, it reveals how personal experiences of motherhood are often subjected to unequal power dynamics. Secondly, it emphasizes the importance of examining a diverse array of individual experiences, rather than essentializing them, in order to understand the social and political power wielded by mothers.

One of the book’s strengths lies in its intersectional approach, which acknowledges the diverse experiences of mothers across race, class, age, sexuality, and other social dimensions. O’Reilly’s exploration of African American mothering, for example, illuminates the resilience and resistance embedded within maternal practices in marginalised communities. Similarly, O’Reilly is cognisant of the gendered nature of motherhood and the ways in which societal norms and expectations shape maternal experiences. She navigates this complexity by employing a language that is both inclusive and sensitive to the gendered realities of mothering. This entails acknowledging the distinctive challenges confronted by women who mother as a marginalised group, while also acknowledging the diversity of experiences within motherhood, including those of non-binary and trans parents. By striking this balance, O’Reilly ensures that her anthology is accessible and relatable to a wide range of readers while also remaining attuned to the specific gendered dynamics at play within the realm of motherhood. This nuanced approach allows her to create a space where mothers feel seen, heard, and understood, while also inviting critical reflection on the ways in which gender shapes our understanding of maternal experiences.

It is my opinion that O’Reilly’s writing represents an intricate textual configuration, resonating with Walter Benjamin’s notion of constellations as a multitude of points collectively forming a discernible yet contingent and transient pattern. In The Origin of German Tragic Drama, Benjamin proposes that “ideas are to objects as constellations are to stars” (1985, p. 34), to imply that, in a manner analogous to the perception of constellations, they facilitate the comprehension of relationships between cultural objects and socio-political phenomena. This is a suggestion that I think O’Reilly’s anthology invites readers to engage with through its non-linear thematic organisation around motherhood as institution, practice, subjectivity and representation. This is why the reading of In (M)other Words is not a linear process; rather, it is a temporality of interruption, iteration, and backwards meditation, mingled with present activism and future desire. The text beckons readers to engage with it as a dynamic projectuality, where each encounter with a fragment opens up new pathways of understanding and interpretation.

In summation, In (M)other Words emerges as a seminal text within the field of motherhood studies, offering a sophisticated and thought-provoking exploration of maternal theory, praxis, and representation. Whether one is an academic scholar, activist, or lay reader, O’Reilly’s anthology constitutes an indispensable resource for engaging with the complexities and nuances of motherhood in the twenty-first century.

The Conversation with Andrea O’Reilly

In the book, a tension is present, although it does not paralyse ‒ it works to clear the ground and it turns into a call to action. As O’Reilly observes, “as I reflect on the triumphs and tribulations of feminist mothering, I question whether my research and that of feminist scholarship on motherhood more generally have truly and fully actualized Demeter’s maternal power and fury” (169). It is from this perspective that I initiate my dialogue with her.

1. What defines Demeter’s maternal power and fury, and how can scholars of motherhood further efforts to realize it?

I discovered the Goddess when I was a young woman. I’ve always had a fascination with Greek mythology long before I was a mother. And I was always awed and amazed by Demeter’s narrative. And then of course, when I became a motherhood scholar and, in 2006, founded a press dedicated to motherhood studies, I, of course, had to name it in her honour: Demeter Press.

I believe Adrienne Rich brought Demeter to the attention of motherhood scholars who may not have been familiar with Greek mythology. She became an icon, a symbol, a trope in motherhood studies. Rich talks about the power of Demeter. And it’s something that is so rare in patriarchal cultures, in life or literature, to have an image and a narrative of a mother woman who says, basically, “No, I’m not going to do that. I’m angry and I’m pissed off and you’re going to see my rage”. Women, as we know, are not allowed to be angry and act upon anger, and particularly not mothers.

That is one of the ultimate taboos of mothering, is to be an enraged mother. I really think it’s a power that is breathtaking as she actually stands up to the Head God and says, “No, I am not going to have the seasons come. I’m not going to have spring arrive and produce a harvest until you return my daughter to me”. And I think that resonates with so many women because we have so few resources as mothers to stand up, to talk back, to resist. And I think that’s why Adrienne Rich honored, celebrated and circulated that image of this enraged mother, to show how much rage can empower, how much rage can result in resistance. And yes, I know it is often more complicated than that.  But I think it’s a trope or a symbol. It’s very empowering, very energizing. Now, how do we enact this in real life? Well, many, many books have been written on that. But it is a trope that keeps circulating in motherhood studies decades after Rich’s book. When I share the story with my students it is often a revelation. In Canada, many students don’t know about Greek mythology. I’m not sure how they got a high school diploma without knowing that but I share that story to them. And they are really impressed to go, wow, like I didn’t know about. And then, there’s a lot more about Demeter’s mysteries and the secrecy of it and how she empowered women and mothers in particular. And of course, it honoured the mother and daughter connection, and it was the daughter that she stood up for.

It’s a very empowering narrative and image. Now, what we do with it on the ground in real life, I’m not sure. But I think we need those stories. I think we need those images to sustain us, and to motivate us, and to enrage us, and to maybe bring about real change our day-to-day life. To show how rage can be powerful, empowering, and also a tool for activism. And I think patriarchal culture knows that. And I think that’s why there’s such shame and guilt around maternal rage.

When I honour rage, I am obviously not advocating losing it on your children. That’s not what I’m talking about, but rather to channel maternal rage for social change. Adrienne Rich, in Of Woman Born, talks a lot about the possibilities and power of maternal range. In the Foreword the 2021 edition Eula Biss returns to Rich’s concept of maternal rage and links it, with Audre Lorde’s concept. Since female rage is often seen as a second wave concept, I think we’ve kind of essentialized and forgotten about its power, but I think we need to return to it.

What does it mean to get really mad and to do something with that anger? And I think we saw that certainly, in Chile and Argentina with the disappeared, how the mothers took up public space and said “I’m not standing here and letting it happen. I’m going to talk back and whether anything comes of it, but I think it often does”. Certainly, in that case, there was change, there was response. What does it mean to be angry and to enact that anger? I think if women did that, mothers in particular, and collectively, I think we would see phenomenal social change. If we really got mad and went to the streets, right? But how can we do that in our busy, complicated lives, I’m not sure. We’re in a different context in 2025, but I think we’ve forgotten the power and the possibility of maternal rage at patriarchy and the institution in particular of motherhood.

2. You conclude the Introduction “calling for a new maternal narrative that acknowledges the joys of motherhood alongside its sorrows” (17). However, in contexts like Italy, where I am currently situated, this notion may be misconstrued and disregarded due to the prevailing narrative portraying motherhood as the ideal choice for women, particularly under the leadership of Giorgia Meloni, the country’s first-ever female-led government. What obstacles and opportunities exist in crafting a positive narrative of motherhood that isn’t overshadowed and patronised by conservative, illiberal politics and ideology?

That is such a good and hard question. First, as I write in the book, and drawing on Sara Ruddick’s work, I believe we finally have permission, and that took a long time, to talk about the tabooed topics of motherhood, whether that be regret or ambivalence or rage. We are having books published on that. A deluge of novels now coming out in North America, in particular, on the dark side of motherhood. We may consider that unsurprising, but it’s radical. Even 20 years ago, we weren’t seeing that. Certainly, when I had my children in the 80s there was little, if any, representation of maternal regret, ambivalence, and rage. So that is movement. We are opening up a space to speak the unspoken.

But I still agree with Ruddick that we can’t speak the pleasures of motherhood and I think we know why. It’s precisely what you just said. It is now okay to rant and say motherhood is oppressive. That’s kind of cool. But to speak about the love, and the joy, and the pleasures of mothering, it’s very dangerous because it can be so immediately co-opted. We see that certainly in Italy. We see that in the United States. How quickly that can be re-domesticated and co-opted. So, I don’t know. I think we have to go back to Demeter. We have to define it on our own terms. We have to say, yes, mothering can be empowering. Mothering can be emancipatory. Mothering can be absolutely joyous and beautiful.

But we have to be very careful when we make those statements and I appreciate your comment because particularly in your Italian context, how quickly the Right can say, see, told you all along, that the real meaning of life is motherhood and you’re unfulfilled, incomplete as a woman if you don’t have children. Told you all along, what’s wrong with you? So, I believe it this has a silencing effect, a self-censoring effect. I think mothers are very reluctant and nervous to speak about the joy of motherhood, the love of it, alongside the hard, because of it will be essentialized and sentimentalized.

I think we have to reclaim motherhood as feminist, as political. I’ll just share a story relative to our discussion here. At my university, they used to do a story for Mother’s Day and I was always interviewed. And I would always position my talk as political and talk about mothers’ rights, I wouldn’t talk about flowers and cards and breakfast. I’d say we need to claim the origins of Mother’s Days as a political day and it’s time to imagine feminist empowered mothering where we support mothers. However this year my university made a decision no longer to celebrate Mother’s Day with a media story because they worried that a story on motherhood could be seen as essentialist and conservatizing. And I wondered, have we reached a point where motherhood and Mother’s Day are no longer discussed or profiled at a university of 65,000 students due to fears it would be seen as essentialist or trans-exclusive? But I thought that’s not what we’re talking about. We have silenced a possibility when mothers can take a day, when we can demand our rights and draw attention to the issues. So, what I’m saying is that I think people are very apprehensive in today’s climate. They don’t want to say anything that possibly could be misread or misused or appropriated. There’s a lot of censorship, self-censorship going on, a lot of silencing. And that concerns me greatly.

I think we should have Mother’s Day, but not with cards and breakfast. I think we should have it as a radical day of action, right? So, I appreciate the concern. And I don’t have an answer per se, other than you put an asterisk after everything, and say when I use the word motherhood I do NOT mean the heteronormative, conservative view of motherhood. I’m talking about an empowered feminist mother-centered view of motherhood. So, I don’t have an answer other than we have to figure out a way to talk about motherhood honestly and authentically, without it being co-opted and used against us, particularly, as you say, in contexts like Italy. Because I do worry that my writing in the wrong hands could be completely misrepresented.

And I think you’re absolutely right, particularly with the plummeting birth rates in Italy. And we’ve joined you. Canada has one of the lowest birth rates in the world. I was just interviewed on this topic two weeks ago. So, yes, we are in a real pro-motherhood and pronatalist space. And we have to tread very carefully. We have to honour and celebrate and empower women who have chosen motherhood absolutely completely and unequivocally, AND also celebrate and honour the women who have chosen not to be mothers.

3. The text introduces a linguistic endeavour marked by the concept of “inclusion without exclusion” (67) through its reappropriation and reevaluation of terminology like “mother” and “mothering.” This prompts contemplation of linguistic performativity, echoing the scholarly discourse inspired, among others, by Judith Butler and Eve Sedgwick, and its ramifications for power dynamics and potential avenues of subversion. To what extent can (m)other words be construed as performative? If so, in what manner, and what implications does this hold?

Yes, this is about the limitations of language. I’ve been interviewed by scholars and activists who speak languages other than English, and even the term motherhood is contested. They don’t distinguish between mothering and motherhood. And in motherhood studies, that is the most important distinction, going back, of course, as we always do, to Adrienne Rich. We know that motherhood is the institution. We know there are rules and regulations that tell us how to be a mother, when to be a mother, with whom to be a mother, so on and so forth. That’s what’s oppressive, that’s what’s restrictive, that’s what’s wrong. But also, as Rich emphasizes, there is the possibility of mothering, which is mothering on our own terms, raising children as we wish, when we want, with whom we want. So how do we make those distinctions in languages that don’t distinguish between mothering and motherhood? So, I agree with you, there is a real limitation of language; we can only think in the language that we have. We can’t think outside of language.

We think in language, right? So how do we think in a language constrains and restrains; how do we imagine, how do we envision? I agree with you that mothering, of course, is performative, right? Everything is ultimately performative, and there’s nothing inherent, or inevitable, or intrinsic, or biological. Everything is culturally filtered and determined, or overdetermined.

But going back to language, it has been a constant struggle. When I first did my book on matricentric feminism, now eight years ago, though I certainly was thinking about it long before then, I used the word mothers. I refused to use the term parents, and I think the answer is obvious, particularly in the English language. A parent is not a mother, right? And my students get that right away. I ask: when we say parent, what comes to mind? And what comes to mind is not mothering in the sense of nurturing, being child-centered, caring for your children. I say just say, look it up both words in the dictionary, right? There are very two different meanings of parent and mother. So, we all agree we can’t use the term parent to talk about women’s oppression in the institution of motherhood. We understand that. The word parent is not going to cut it. And I don’t think many people argue against this.  So, then what are we left with? Female parent, male parent: that still doesn’t really capture what is mothering. Mothering is more than being a mother, as we know. Mothering is the verb: all the work, the mothers do in the first, second, and third shifts: all the work we have to do as caring for our children. I still don’t have an answer. So, what I did in this collection, and then in my longer version of it, my book, on Matricentric Feminism, I tried to think about how we can use the terms mothering and mothers, but always with that asterisk, to be very clear that we are talking about. Going back to Sara Ruddick who said anyone can be a mother. You do not have to be a cisgender biological parent of a child born to you. That means men can be mothers,  trans people can be mothers. Mothering is determined by anyone who puts the raising of children at the center of their life and sees this work as integral to who they are, and how they live in the world.

Now, in patriarchal cultures, of course, it’s women, and generally cisgendered women, who take up mothering and are then penalized for doing so. So I still struggle with it. But I think we can reclaim terms as I talk about in my book. We’re constantly reclaiming terms. And I don’t know how it works in Italian. But in the English language, for example, words like “queer” have been reclaimed by the community. Queer is now a positive term. The word “Breeder” has been reclaimed by a lot of young African American women, it was very much a disparaging comment, a breeder. The word “slut” has been reclaimed. I was very involved in the slut walk movement here in Canada.

I think it’s about reclaiming and repositioning words. And as someone with a PhD in English, I’m interested in language and words and where they come from. And what do they mean? And in what context? So, I think if we reclaim mothering, as a verb, as something that’s open to all, than I think we can use the word mother. But I think, we will always need that footnote. And every time I write, I have the asterisk, right? It is cumbersome, but necessary. But I don’t have another word. So, when I teach, I sometimes say to my students, what could be a word in English language we can use: nurturer, caregiver? That doesn’t cut it. Right? So, I appreciate that struggle. And I think having this conversation publicly and in academic spaces is what we need to do. We need to keep using the word mother. There is no institution of patriarchal fatherhood, for example. So, we have to honor and recognize that it is women who overwhelmingly do mother work, and who pay the price for doing so. And it’s disingenuous to use the term parent. Men are not oppressed by fatherhood as women are oppressed by motherhood. But until we get a better word in English language, we have to use the word mother to honor that, but not to essentialize it. It’s a fine line to walk.

4. Lastly, what do you anticipate readers will glean from their engagement with In (M)other Words?

It’s a conversation. And I wish now I had used as the title of my book “Conversations on Mothering and Motherhood” because I think the collection is a conversation. I think all writing is a conversation: you put something out into the world as a writer, and you hope somebody picks it up, thinks about it and brings it back into the world with their input. I think the fact that we are having this conversation is so radical and revolutionary, especially in the context of Italy. I don’t think we would have been having this conversation twenty years ago. When I started my work on motherhood in the early 90s you could count on one hand how many books you could read to resist normative motherhood. Of course, Adrienne Rich opened the way, but I don’t think it was until this century that motherhood studies made possible these conversations. And we are slowly but surely shifting the North-American bias. It is a legacy that we need to undo. And motherhood studies is not unique in this because all feminisms are trying to undo and trouble the USA-centric monolithic understanding of what feminism is, and of what motherhood means in relation to feminism. I hope readers read my book and say “Oh, this book is missing this … this book should have talked about this or should have done this”. This book, and my work more generally, is certainly not definitive or absolute. The collection is simply my thoughts on mothers, mothering, and motherhood over the past 15 years. I see the collection as a beginning. I hope people will read the collection as an invitation for further dialogue, reflection and research.

Olga Vlasova 
Ukrainian State University of Science and Technologies, Ukraine.

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Abstract

The article aims to conceptualize the architectonics of the feminist philosophy under the theoretical conditions of metamodernism. In this context, it emphasizes the importance of the multidisciplinary research methods. By adopting a gender-differentiated methodology we accentuate the stable relationship between women and the problem of subjectivity, which is still mainly based on the ideology narratives and discourses. As the concept of gender identity is becoming more and more multilateral, it is obvious that its problematizing is closely linked with the concept of identification, which is considered more valid under the conditions of metamodernity. Social identity is still one of the grand narratives in social, political, and philosophic sciences: in contrast to single-hypothesis theories, it is complex and dynamic – gender identification is by all means under the metamodern “umbrella,” too. In contrast to gender identification, feminist approaches are logically straight, being based on the dichotomy “male-female”. The metamodern “pendulum” has swung in the opposite direction to question the postmodern principles, yet the fundamentals of the postmodern philosophy and feminist studies stay remarkably stable. Concerning a certain misunderstanding of feminist philosophy in traditional academic circles, it should be emphasized that it seems an exaggeration to talk about completely different conceptions and meanings of feminist philosophy and gender studies: the main problem remains with the concept of the human nature of men and women.

Keywords: theoretical mutations, multidisciplinary research, gender identification, discursive practices.

Tetiana Vlasova 
Ukrainian State University of Science and Technologies, Ukraine.

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Abstract

Objective: To investigate the peculiarities of post-postmodern discourses of interpretation with the accent on their recent gender intersections. Theoretical basis: At the beginning of the XXI century, postmodernist theory, losing its importance and a certain `political correctness’, still leaves its key principles of interpretation and relativism unshakable. The appeal of the recent publications is determined by the fact that acts of interpretation permeate all post-postmodern narratives; allegedly, gender narratives are included per se. By interpreting, we bring our own meanings into everyday life, creating our own narratives, which are essentially gender “stories” with the representation of gender discourses. Interpretation is both “fixed” and “open,” but the narratives are not “open”: the process of constructing narratives is enriched by “natural interpretation,” usually with a focus on the cultural and gender constructs. Scientific novelty: With its tendency to change, interpretation is becoming a symbol of the post-postmodern “normalization of change”. The subjectivity of interpretation is not a transparent boundary between human beings and the world around them: the “better” the interpretation, the more objective our stories seem, and the stronger the constructs conditioned by society, gender, and ideology become. Conclusions: In a world where everything and everyone is seen as a text, interpretation becomes a crucial issue of theoretical problems. In the absence of a “perfect language,” the paradox is that the text simultaneously makes the reader believe in his or her own understanding of its meaning and, by virtue of interpretation, makes this understanding impossible. The influence of language on the being and the being on language is realized in various ways: feminist readings of texts, for example, have both had a huge impact on gender theory and are currently creating a new metamodern wave of the feminist movement. The “work” of interpretation is multivalent and often opaque, but it is the work that conditions the concepts and constructs of culture, society, and gender.

Keywords: biconditional, conditional, History of Women, mental models, possibilities.

Liliane Steiner, Ph.D  
Principal Research Assistant, The Arnold and Leona Finkler Institute of Holocaust Research, Bar- Ilan University, Israel. Hemdat College of Education..

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Abstract

The female experience of the Holocaust delineates loss, de-feminization, and desecration of the feminine Jewish body. Abject and silence impose their conceptual framework on female Holocaust memoirists, resulting in a fragmentary representation that allows a partial glimpse into the (inner) past-experience of these female survivors. In a feminist act, these survivors settle scores with their perpetrators and subtly recount the story of the perpetual assault inflicted upon the Jewish feminine body during the Holocaust and, in many cases, during the post-war period. This study aims to stress the poetics of this writing, that I call the poetics of catastrophe.

Keywords: silence, abject, settling of scores, poetics of catastrophe, feminine body.

Leyla Torres-Bravo^1* & Miguel López-Astorga^{2  
1,2}University of Talca, Chile, Avenida Lircay s/n.

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Abstract

From the theory of mental models, it has been proposed that the sentences with ‘if’ can refer to ten different interpretations. Those interpretations are related to the situations in which their clauses are possible. On the other hand, a study suggests that two of those interpretations seem to predominate in academic psychology texts: the conditional and biconditional interpretations, that is, those that logic links to ‘if’. Using sentences from two Women’s History papers, the present work shows a new study trying to move forward in this direction. It also addresses the importance of how historical inquiries relating to women in different contexts can reveal the possible clauses used in their drafting and interpretation. The results are not very different from the previous study. The consequences related to the predominant tendency to the use of ‘if’ as a conditional or biconditional in human and social sciences are discussed.

Keywords: biconditional, conditional, History of Women, mental models, possibilities.

María José Gómez Arrieta 
Becaria de doctorado, Universidad de Osmania (becaria del ICCR), Hyderabad, India.
País de origen: Venezuela

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Resumen

Abordar los temas relacionados con el feminismo implica afrontar una multicomplejidad de factores que influencia la discusión sobre el rol de la mujer tanto en el escenario global como en cada región del mundo, cuyo imperativo de lucha es integrador, continuo y movilizador en favor de re – empoderar (nos) y dignificar (nos) – a la mujer- dentro de una sociedad altamente cambiante y violenta. El presente artículo corresponde a una sistematización introductoria para comprender los rasgos distintivos del feminismo en la India, cuyo debate actual entre tradicionalismo – modernidad, confronta a un país que busca un equilibrio entre su vertiginoso ascenso como potencia emergente, frente a la necesidad de superar las contradicciones sociales que persisten en su interior que afectan directamente a las mujeres. En este sentido, desde las miradas del sur global, el rol de la mujer en India debe superar las narrativas impregnadas de estereotipos sociales, entendiendo que existe una realidad común que une a las mujeres para alcanzar la justicia social y la configuración de democracias más inclusivas en el ámbito del Sur Global.

Palabras clave: Feminismo, India, Sur Global, desarrollo, pensamiento postcolonial.

Anushka Mitra
Independent researcher, Kolkata

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Abstract

This paper analyzes the character of Dopdi Mejhen from Mahasweta Devi’s short story “Draupadi” to explore the territory of women’s subjective identity as opposed to the social definition of ‘woman’. This research work includes feminist and existentialist arguments to draw attention to women’s existence as ‘series’ in reference to their separate settings. Additionally, it studies the close relation between gender-based violence and female identity through critical feminist discourse analysis and trauma studies. Incorporating a great deal of literary text analysis and interpretation for contextualization, this paper is a critical analysis of women’s individual identity formation outside the repressive social norms.

Keywords: Mahasweta Devi, Draupadi, Gender identity, Women, Feminism, Gender-based violence, Iris Marion Young, Simone De Beauvoir, Chandra Talpade Mohanty, Gender normativity, Female identity, Feminist discourse, Trauma.

Tasmia Islam Aurin 
Northern University Bangladesh

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Abstract

This research item delivers a feminist interpretation of Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay’s novel Pather Dabi (The Right of Way), examining the subtle but powerful forms of resistance embodied by its female characters within the context of colonial Bengal. This article aims to analyze characters like Bharati and Sumitra’s journey in colonial India through their silent strength and subversive acts. The research shows that these women move forward to complex social and political landscapes, contributing significantly to revolutionary movements. Bharati’s intellectual prowess and strategic silences, juxtaposed with Sumitra’s behind-the-scenes activism, exemplify diverse modes of female empowerment and defiance. This paper explores the evolution of feminist ideas in Colonial India, illustrating traditional Indian society and Western ideologies converging to redefine women’s roles.  This study contributes to the growing body of literature on gender dynamics in early 20th-century Indian fiction, arguing that Chattopadhyay’s sophisticated portrayal of women rises above conventional narratives of victimhood. By putting forward these often-overlooked aspects of Pather Dabi (The Right of Way), we propose a new framework for understanding female influence in colonial-era Bengali literature, one that recognizes the power of quiet rebellion and the lasting impact of women’s contributions to social change.

Keywords: Gender, autonomy, patriarchal, rebellion, revolutionary movement, subversive, Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay, Pather Dabi (The Right of Way).

Lisa A Costello 
Professor, Dept of English and Director of Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies, Statesboro Campus, Georgia Southern University, USA

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Abstract

The original version of the film Shoah had an enormous impact on the revival of Holocaust memory. However, women appeared only a few times over the course of those nine long hours. Even though Lanzmann’s film achieved complexity in its representation of places, it failed to equally represent the experiences of both women and men, which is a disservice to all survivors. In 2016, the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum (USHMM) released over 220 hours of additional outtake footage from Shoah, never seen by the public. The outtakes reveal longer interviews with women, and these missing voices shed light on women’s experiences during the Holocaust in more detail.

I argue that the “outtakes” of this film can be used by audiences to deconstruct gender “neutralities” around testimony to reimagine public memory narratives and spaces about the Holocaust as highly gendered. In the “rhetorical process of gendering” in public memory, so-called “neutral” public memory narratives can be challenged by newly discovered artifacts like the outtakes. Though Shoah had elements of ambiguity, there was no way to challenge its strict binary in gender representation— until now. This active audience engagement with Holocaust artifacts, what I call performative memorialization, marks a kairotic force in Holocaust memorialization; the past collapses into the present to elicit a dialogic of active audience participation.

Keywords: Gender, performative, public memory, Shoah, kairos, Claude Lanzmnann.