Literature Essay on Post Modernism and
The Passion of Eve
A postmodernism
analysis of The Passion of New Eve, by Angela Carter
Is she for real? Is this novel for real? These are two questions
that present themselves when reading The Passion of New Eve;
Carter shows us a world both incredible but recognisable,
characters that are, in turn, submissive then dominant and
written in a style that breaks boundaries, yet follows a normative
literary discourse.
These polarities mirror other polarities
that will be discussed in this essay in that they are useful
in understanding Carter's work, but perhaps also hinder us
from what her real message, if any, was.
There is also an
inherent limitation in what seems like a 'slotting into postmodernism'
of her work. This will also be discussed; the 'fractured self'
of postmodernism, I suggest, is not new, rather it is the
utilisation of this self for particular social purposes, that
reflects Carter's talent.
This will inevitably bring us back
to what she does with language: is she effectively questioning
anything through form and style, or does she, in various ways,
undermine herself or, perhaps, a belief in any real social
change.
The first part of the novel interests itself in presenting
a world that is Rabelaisian in context, carnivalesque and
uninterested in humanity's hopes beyond sex and death. The
novel's protagonist Evelyn considers the America he has arrived
in,
'From these unnatural skies fell rains of gelatinous matter,
reeking of decay.'
From the multiplicity of voices in this environment come the
women that live there, 'the bared teeth in the female circle'
(12), who are presented as synonymous with 'the bright, rich
smell of shit' (17).
He revels in, is disgusted by, and fears the city he is living
in. This is a world of disorder, social flux mirrored in familiar
literary terms through sexual degeneration and lack of aesthetic
belief. What is different in this context is that, unlike
her predecessors, such as Rabelais and the modernists, Carter
does not seem to see this world as detrimental. It is in flux,
but it holds together in its flux. It revels in change. This
seems to be its demise, but there is no alternative or overall
society presented. This is the real world.
Jean-Francois Lyotard makes reference to the 'grand' or 'master'
narrative, one that serves to validate the mainstream society
by viewing a marginalised group as being significant of disorder.
Carter discards this theory, preferring in the disorder
to see coherence and she does so through the setting and also
through the character of Evelyn who is presented as a man
who does not understand or can perceive women in any other
way except the typical one of the time,
'Tristessa. Enigma. Illusion. Woman? Ah!' (6)
The image of woman, as presented in cinema and the rest of
the consumer culture, is what Carter is concerned about. Woman
is, from the start, in this culture, fragmented and not known
totally in the first part because she is seen through men's
eyes primarily, and then secondly, particularly in the period
Carter is writing about, through the idealised eyes of Hollywood.
One message that Carter presents through the reality of Tristessa,
is that women themselves cannot know themselves in this dangerous
technological culture and men certainly do not so this results
in violence.
This is presented in the way Evelyn treats Leilah.
Carter consciously presents this character through Evelyn,
thereby pointing out how image threatens woman's health and
welfare, as he idealises her, 'She was like a mermaid, an
isolated creature that lives in fulfillment of its own senses:
she lured me on, she was the lorelei of the gleaming river
of traffic…' (23) He becomes bored of her as she becomes
real and then becomes pregnant, 'She became only an irritation
of the flesh' (31). The imagery of fish, mermaids and other
mythical temptresses serve to highlight the danger of male
treatment of women, as misconceived and destructive.
The journey into the desert where Evelyn meets the Mother
'an incarnated deity' (49) apparently presents the solution
to the problem: a return to ancient womanhood in a matriarchal
but technological society. There is a graphic and scientific
edge to Carter's writing here, as she brings together mythological
imagery and scientific actions, resulting in the message that
femininity can only be realised properly through this recourse
to mythological symbols, 'I realised the warm, red place in
which I lay was a simulacrum of the womb.' (52) Yet, it is
exaggerated, grotesque and made unreal. The theorizing of
an alternative culture edge dangerously towards dystopia,
as when the Mother is described in detail, 'And she had made
herself! Yes, made herself! She was her own mythological artefact;
she had reconstructed her flesh painfully, with knives and
with needles, into a transcendental form as an emblem, and
flung a patchwork quilt stitched from her daughters' breasts
over the cathedral of her interior, the cave within the cave.'
(60) It is as if symbols cannot be used effectively anymore;
that they are almost as detrimental to a woman's well being
as the symbolism at the beginning of the novel; the female
body cannot be redefined, it can only be constructed through
perverted traditional symbols, such as the womb, the cave,
the quilt or needles.
So the language and style of the novel strive
towards new literary boundaries by using unusual events and
an unusual character. In postmodern terms, Carter not only
questions the order of the literary world, but the order of
words, the very fabric of the text. In the juxtapositions
of settings and symbolism and authorial voice undermining
one another, tensions of un-belief are achieved. But by the
fact that there is a definite sense of journey and that Evelyn
is learning about being a woman, there is a certainty that
the tensions are meaningful and ultimately harmonious. There
is a trying and a testing in the different stages of the journey
that are Dantean in imagery: I think this device achieves
a sense of spiritual if not specifically religious journey.
The tensions of this image, however, is presented as the cave
is described as 'of a tough, synthetic integument with an
unnatural sheen upon it that troubled me to see, it was so
slick, so lifeless.' (49) This seems to mirror the situation
that Evelyn is in. He does not understand or can be comfortable
in his own now female skin. The direct role reversal here
is effective as it is used for a post-modern concern: the
construction of femininity, in a male-controlled world. This
is most closely seen in the scenes with Zero. When he rapes
her the experience is closely seen through her eyes, 'I was
in no way prepared for the pain; his body was an anonymous
instrument of torture, mine my own rack. (86) The sense of
detachment experienced during the second rape is also realistic,
'I registered in my mind only the poignant fact of my second
rape in two hours. 'Poor Eve! She's being screwed again!''
(90) This achievement of making the protagonist perceive through
different flesh is an experience that the reader also goes
through, creating the usually marginalised voice of the woman
the main narrative.
The role reversal interestingly questions the role of women
in this postmodern society as constructed images, specifically
in a technological age. In the scenes with Tristessa and Eve,
death, sexlessness and sexuality are all offered up, at times
grotesquely and then tenderly, 'He and I, she and he, are
the sole oasis in this desert.' (148) It is here, when Eve
falls in love with Tristessa, that the style changes and the
view of how love can construct is being is first presented.
On the one hand it can change a woman, and seem to fulfill
her ultimate role, 'I'd played such a trick on Mother, had
fallen in love.' (151) Then it seems to entail a sense of
loss of self. What is apparent is that there seems to be not
ultimate fulfillment to be found in each other. The novel
is bleak in its post-modern outlook. Its ending, the descent
into a cave then onto the ocean, is heavily and traditionally
symbolic, and therefore not entirely convincing if a reader
were to read the novel in the traditionally chronological
and cathartic way. Instead, what is perhaps more helpful,
is to view the novel in its parts, as not having an ultimate
climax. There is no grand narrative here as there is no grand
narrative for women in reality, Carter seems to be saying.
It is a very postmodern novel in this sense, and the undermining
and use of traditional symbolism conveys this idea: ultimately,
Carter does not end as ends suggest death, the typical male
literary concern.
What seems to happen in this novel instead are suggestions
in a playing around with language, that do not push towards
fulfillment in ultimates as this would suggest a lie: a utopian
fantasy. Carter achieves, through the fracturing of real and
unreal narratives, a questioning of truth and urge for social
change. Her undecided style mirrors the undecided society,
importantly suggesting the truth the novel conveys could one
day be achieved in reality. But just like the mirrors in Tristessa's
house, it is only when we become sufficiently ware of them
that any change will take place.
Please note: The above essays and dissertations were written by students and then submitted to us to display and help others. Thanks to all the students who have submitted their work to us.
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