Women who hate men 
The glorification of nature
female implies the humiliation
anyone has it.
TW Adorno, "Minima Moralia"
There is a void in the pages of Jane Somers . A lack of which was born text, precisely in the sense of tissue. So a plot and a plot that comes from an absence and nevertheless produce a precise meaning, basic knots, junctions essential. Human relations, in short. There is, rather, the lack of a presence, an area low pressure that occurs here and there in the course of the narrative. This missing (not in a negative way, mind you) is the male element. The men, it is withdrawn by a decision from another painful and tender relationship between Janna and Maudie. The man is not even an accessory. The males are absent. If you are not present are useless. When they are not useless seriously harm the health of women. In less severe cases have many elements of stupidity. We want to sink the knife to split hairs? Well there is a positive male figure substantially. E 'Freddie, the husband of Janna. In fact, die at once. Indeed, it is already dead. Posthumous presence, however, significant.
Janna live, work, work, suffer in a world populated by women only. A large, bustling harem in which men are slightly more, slightly less than that frescoes on the walls. Bas timid and uncertain in the absence of light grazing. They are part of the background, ethereal presences cross dall'estenuazione memories. Simple two-dimensional allusions. It 's always, the male, selfish or violent or incapable. Often without disjunction. A book, therefore, written by a woman, for women, for women, women only, populated by women who speak with other women, who work among women. Why are women "... that hold things together" .
truth so sacrosanct as problematic. From this essential characteristic of the emerging world of JS anthropologically crucial role because centripetal, unifying of women whose consistency coagulates the social relationship within and outside the household, as opposed to inconsistency patrifocale centrifuge. So that the "freemasonry of women" is manifested in the conspiracy that "... overflows and spreads inside the bus ..." and in every fold of life.
Lessing - Somers is fierce as a woman. Verga lines fierce and corrosive acid similar molecular "Alien" , other text. Or rather, another context within which the feminine is entirely the agony not only dialectical. The inconsistency of the male figures is carved into the superficial of chat with the "... real gentleman, gallant and full of humor ...".
In Diary man can only make you laugh in the role of the modern cicisbeo "... that despises everything that does not taste of smoke, leather and shaving cream, and especially women. .. " ( TW Adorno," Minima Moralia "). The final definition of man is lethal: "Funny" . A fatal stroke. A gunshot to the head of the fathers and their arrogant deity. The truth of the male occurs only through the thin curtain of appearance. Which reveals more The key feature of ' Antropos sophos : does not understand. And if he understands he does not know what to do. Indeed, he does not know tout court. Knowledge is falling into the dark pit of life hoping only that, that there is an end. Understanding is floating in the warm ocean instinct. And 'the gesture of the infant preconscious Shaking hands trying to grab ( cap and king) now cut off to climb a rope to the peace of life prior lost forever. Figure of knowledge is the question that is a horizon. Measure of understanding is the exclamation that stiffens the wonderment of the vacuum. The root of all knowledge is Sophia.
Even when you fight, when one faces, when you have or you love, the action takes place among women. Often, very often, Jane is in contention with itself. Or with the "other Janna," Mrs. Fowler that is how they are all old: "lean, transparent, dusty."
So with uncertain decision, J . S. the challenge set by the case in a pharmacy. And 'the beginning. DL has the rare ability to quickly access but not hasty action, the heart of the text and history. L ' incipt is always difficult because it involves a pre-admission self-expression intentions and feelings. And lack: "... I never asked the question of how I actually ..." . Without question or estuary mouth: the reality that we do, with the inevitable self-reflection. That is, not coincidentally, the first pages of Diary constitute the realm of denial that he says. All those "no" , those "or" those "not". JS is revealed by the negativity of the expression, saying that is not to affirm what is not with unconscious involuntary paralessi. The self-analysis that you have as the foundation of the narrative process introduces no methodical attempt to dissolve the doubt "... how it really was."
Shortly after the question appears capital "... what good is that they are still alive?" plurality of singular verb: they are all of us. Janna began to understand. That is: what good is living? Life as incomprehensible to the tautology that, with vascorossiana, obstinacy, we try to give meaning, content, justification, actually. Exactly. E 'in this exact moment that the fragile, tiny, proud Mrs. Fowler, with a quiet metamorphosis, becomes Maudie forever.
Standard, Here, two births in the Socratic sense perfectly. Thanks to the feelings of the two maieutics women learn to recognize what they were, remember who they are and how they are. Slowly develops a topography of the feelings with which DL analyzes and describes perfect fit with the characteristics of the nascent relationship with the elderly most in terms of a marital relationship with his sudden, unexplained highs and lows which give the narration as sloshing a ' "... emotional swings."
And then there's the body. There are two bodies. The elegant, softly feminine enviable Janna. And the other, wrinkled, sagging, tired, poor hanger worn rags, be hard to know matter how troubled the indelible marks of time digging in and out of dark tunnels. The young (everything is relative) admires his own body, it takes painstaking care, cultivates refined elegance but soberly visible. Which lacks a soul. Because the purpose is only to "keep everything under control." For this the dawn of a feeling terrified. Why now feels unable to manage the reality itself, to take control. Especially their feelings. Those, Janna understand this intuitively since the death of the mother and her husband, can not be bent: we can only break.
Slowly, with great effort, Doris - Janna takes his troubled ascent. A true asceticism as integral to the new movement represented the other. There is a focal point, a watershed to mark the turning point. A veritable rite of passage from the soul, in which Janna lives for themselves, their career, to his own body, for the time of the ephemeral world of adulthood heart that leans to the outside . The scene, brilliantly painted the "bubble" Mrs. Fowler is the painful passing of a threshold for inner invisible. Washing the elderly, Jane lava itself. That's why, back home, his ablutions are made hasty and the woman is no longer "... in the pool hours ". The real cleaning is not that of the body. Not especially. Along with the look, feel, smell that meat angular, gaunt, that "... fragile rib cage, under a layer of yellow and wrinkled skin, clavicles and shoulder blades of a skeleton ..." the recalls "... the sick body of the mother." Maudie suddenly becomes a mother recovered. And, conversely, Janna became the daughter that never was. Find it the essential feature of a reality never tasted after decades of living in a desert called family. A collective noun here disengages the individual who survives in monadic form. There is no light in the nucleus. Only an unbearable neutron heaviness that pushes Jane to go insane because inappaganti trajectories.
There is an 'other family, that of Joyce, which to some extent also Jane is a part, for reasons not clear that it shatters and it is this same powdered entities to decide "... to remain united." A cohesion tired, produced by a weakness, not by force of an affect. Even if Joyce, who decides to follow her husband in America, the push comes from a state of mind (not a feeling!): Fear of loneliness. Pure utilitarianism. So the abstractness of the group determines the future of each member and irresponsibility, strives to fulfill the individual.
Janna
But now you know. Decide to know. Because, first, "... I did not want to know." The brilliant "career woman" warns darkly first, then with sudden clarity: It was a breath of knowledge to get lost. Open your eyes is a risk of death. E ', especially life-threatening. Still want to live and choose to be reborn. Although, with increasing clarity, he realizes that every question opens up the pain. However after him and find him. But asking questions is a perilous exercise because he exhibited at the risk of finding answers. And each answer belongs all'irrimediabile. So Jane, slowly, almost casually, he plunges in his own labyrinth karst and discovers the ontological possibility of pain. It 'an awakening, a rebirth. In fact a resurrection in the sense perfectly Tolstoy.
And then there's the time. Janna detects the existence of a sudden. A new time is born and grows inside her. It 's the slow time of old. But no different. Janna has become different, the first Janna is disappearing along with Maudie. This begins to count the years. He sees the world with eyes moist and finally wakes ... surrounded by oceans of time ". The storm you surf.
The roles are reversed. E 'Janna, now, to talk, to tell Maudie's life. While the now-ancient Mrs. Fowler of years approaching acrimony outcome immersed in a non-removable. The disease claims and very deformed body and mind. Jane, the real Jane would like to see the old "... came out from his sullen hostility and yellow ..." to "... communicate, if only for a few minutes, with the true Maudie." The problem is deciding what is true and what is not. What is the "true Maudie"? What is our true us? What we know and who we are or what we know and from whom we come? In the first case it is found that every hour brings with it at least 3600 "truth." In accordance with the "truth" is subject to the dominion of memory that changes with the variable geometry of mental processes, physical, limbic, neural, emotional complexity in a second the Dark of Ephesus, "... changes and changing resting rests." Only stay and / or change? And death, then? "An injustice? An injustice that they have to die? As we all? "
The injustice of death comes chrono-logically injustice of life. Maudie and Janna and we all suffer from this alone. It always happens in the end that the character is confused with the interpreter, the fiction transitions in reality, life ramps in death. Each distinction is pure hypothesis. Why ".. we can not absolutely know what is happening in reality." do not know really. Even Jane knows this and gets angry at the end: "As long as you know who you are angry." Blasphemers I know it always. That's why they pray.
