"I'm not a Feminist, but...

…I believe in equality” the student stated in her introduction, “Men and women are just different.”

It’s no secret that feminism’s relevance today is up for debate, especially on social media (number #1 rule – never try to argue with people on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram!). On one end of the spectrum there is the increasingly popular ‘Women Against Feminism’ fringe (this is the 3^rd most popular webpage to pop-up if you search the term ‘feminism’ in Google!), and on the other, well-spoken young people like Emma Watson calling for women and men to re-embrace feminism and the core ambition behind it – ending gender inequality. [Note: For Watson, feminism is the "belief that men and women should have equal rights and opportunities. It is the theory of the political, economic and social equality of the sexes.”]

While my thesis isn’t specifically about feminism per say, I don’t want to ignore the ways ‘feminist’ ideas and the negative (and occasionally positive) popular perceptions of the term ‘feminism’ have informed and shaped my own position in relation to ‘women’s leadership.’ I'd currently label myself as a 'middle-of-the-road' (as opposed to 'extremist' or 'radical') liberal feminist* who believes that women are entitled to full legal and social equality with men, and that given equal environments and opportunities, males and females will behave similarly (Crawford, 2012). I realise that my ideological position (because at the end of the day, feminism is still an ideology, a way of looking at the world, even an extremist position for some people) will directly influence how I frame my argument on women’s leadership in my thesis. Of course this is an overly simplistic definition of ‘feminism’ (what about LGBTQ issues, reproductive rights, culture and race, etc..? you may ask), however, I don’t think there is any need to become fixated on the details at this point (it is enough to know they exist!).

Unfortunately, in some (not all) of my social circles, there is more than a hint of resentment, scepticism, and perhaps even anger, when I bring up feminism in an everyday social context. Men and women alike seem to be equally suspicious of feminism’s relevance in today’s individualistic, self-absorbed society. Take the following comments I’ve personally encountered [I must admit that sometimes I intentionally provoke these responses by asking friends and family challenging (perhaps intentionally subversive, but no less valid) questions about feminism and male/female differences!]:

• “We’re born different. You can’t change nature.”
• “But we’re already equal! Feminism isn’t important or relevant anymore. I don’t need it.”
• “Don’t feminists all burn their bras or something? Are you wearing a bra?”
• “Oh, you’re not one of them are you? You’ll grow out of it by the time you get to my age.”
• “But I love men! Feminism is all about superiority, it de-masculinises men and undermines them.”
• “Ugh, don’t get all feminist on me.”
• “Women’s brains are so much different than our brains – you have all these connections happening all the time, it’s crazy in there. But us guys, we can compartmentalise, we have a ‘nothing box.’”
• “Women and men have distinct roles and gifts. We’re just naturally better at different things.”

Similarly, when it comes to women, leadership and gender inequality as a topic of discussion at university [based on the most recent sample of undergraduate essays I have read], many business students are quick to jump to the conclusion that since men are [perceived as] ‘masculine’ and women are [perceived as] ‘feminine,’ they must lead differently. While some concluded that women make better leaders (based on the belief that women are more ‘transformational’ and ‘relational’ than men), others railed against their manipulative, conniving female bosses.

*Liberal vs. Cultural Feminism 

Liberal Feminism: “From this perspective, a feminist is a person who believes that women are entitled to full legal and social equality with men and who favours changes in laws, customs, and values to achieve the goal of equality. It emphasises the similarities between males and females, maintaining that given equal environments and opportunities, males and females will behave similarly” (Crawford, 2012, p. 9). Cultural Feminism on the other hand “…emphasises differences between women and men. This perspective stresses that qualities characteristic of women have been devalued and should be honoured and respected in society. It views some gender differences in values and social behaviours as either an essential part of womanhood or so deeply socialised that they are virtually universal and unlikely to change” (Crawford, 2012, p. 10). 

Although the divide between liberal and cultural feminism seems almost impossible to bridge, I hope, like Crawford, that I can create value by harnessing both perspectives since "double visions are theoretically and politically richer and more flexible than visions based on a single tradition" (Crawford, 2012, p. 93). While I would shy away from celebrating women's exclusive feminine 'differences,' I definitely think there is a need to bring what have been termed 'feminine' or communal traits to the forefront of discussions on leadership. 

Fragments + Pieces

The most important takeaway for me from these examples is the identification of a default or subconscious assumption - that essential differences just are. These are biologically determined, divinely gifted, unchanging differences – Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus. End of story.

This is what sociologist Michael Kimmel [check out Kimmel's awesome TED Talk here] calls the “interplanetary theory of gender.” It is the popular and, in most cases, subconscious assumption that “the differences between women and men are far greater and more decisive than the differences that might be observed among men or among women” (Kimmel, 2013, p. 4). Whether we subscribe to the nature or nurture argument, we continue to see women and men as markedly different from each other – “truly, deeply, and irreversibly different” – rather than considering the human characteristics both biological sexes have in common (Kimmel, 2013, p. 4). And, unfortunately, it is these claims about fundamental sex differences, which can be framed as 'communal' (feminine) and 'agentic' (masculine), that have often been used (especially in the not too distant past) to justify keeping women in their place (Crawford, 2012).

I appreciate, having thought like this myself, that there is a certain comfort or sense of security in having established and clear parameters by which we know ourselves and others within a safe dichotomy of oppositions, as either male or female, leaders or followers, heroes or helpers. However, the problem with such binary oppositions is the tendency to automatically default to hierarchy and entitlement by privileging one term over the other. Boje (2001) points out that particular binaries have a propensity to exercise ‘power-over’ and dominate in many business and social contexts (in these examples, the left almost always dominates the right): “Central / Marginal, Male / Female, Organisation / Environment, Management / Labour, Capital / Labour, Faculty / Student, US (or the West) / Third World, Narrative / Story” (p. 25).

In terms of the male/female binary, Kimmel proposes what he terms a ‘radical’ idea: Gender difference is the product of gender inequality. Rather than male/female differences producing a natural hierarchical order, Kimmel claims that “in fact, gender difference is the chief outcome of gender inequality, because it is through the idea of difference that inequality is legitimated” (p. 4). Thus, gender differences are "the socially constructed product of a system that creates categories of difference and dominance” (Crawford, 2012, p. 120). Judith Butler, a feminist post-structuralist and author of Gender Trouble, asks a similar question: Is subjection not the process by which regulations produce gender?:

“Thus, a restrictive discourse on gender that insists on the binary of man and woman as the exclusive way to understand the gender field performs a regulatory operation of power that naturalises the hegemonic instance and forecloses the thinkability of its disruption” (Butler, 2004, p. 43).

Another point I want to touch on briefly is the way feminine and masculine traits are commonly framed as mutually exclusive. Again, people want to know themselves by what they are not – the more masculine (assertive, aggressive, competitive, etc…) you are, the less feminine (compassionate, emotional, nurturing) you will ‘naturally’ be, and vice versa. So we end up with ridiculous spectrums like this which, however ‘logical’ they might look, continue to reassert damaging traditional gender stereotypes:

(Really, why can't Barbie be a badass G.I. Joe on her day off? Similarly, is there no room for 'tough' men to care about fashion & presentation or housework & childcare?)

Nicola Walter, author of Living Dolls: The Return to Sexism (2010), sums this up nicely: “The way that masculinity and femininity are now so often seen as mutually exclusive, so that the more masculine you are the less feminine you are, operates against women who seek power. Because in the eyes of those influenced by traditional stereotypes, a man seeking power enhances his masculinity, but a woman seeking power reduces her femininity. And this can be extremely negative for a woman who goes into politics [or business], as it makes her seem not quite human, as though she has given up something essential about herself” (Walter, 2010, p. 211). Obviously this perception/assumption has profound implications for women in leadership, creating a double bind (as Eagly & Carli would say) which compels female leaders to walk a tightrope on the identity 'spectrum,' neither entirely losing their perceived inherent femininity (regardless of whether it is natural to an individual woman or not) nor being 'overly' emotional, feeling or nurturing (and thus, not assertive or strong enough to be taken seriously).

I realise this post is extremely fragmented, and I apologise for its ambiguous nature! This is a huge topic and difficult to dissemble and argue convincingly in one short blog post, but I felt that I had to lay out my current position and the ideas I’ve been struggling with and questioning before starting to fully flesh out a well-researched, theoretical argument. It’s refreshing to just play with different ideas and perspectives. And hey, you know what, my position might change as I learn more and consider different viewpoints, but I’m okay with that!
I think one of the most important things for me is to be careful not to frame everything negatively - yes, women face difficulties in the workplace, but it's not necessarily beneficial to constantly focus on the problems. I'd rather look upwards and outwards to what can be, opening up a discussion which is not only about women's disadvantage, but encourages 'new,' more inclusive ways of looking at, knowing, and practicing leadership.

And to clarify, unlike the confused student in the introduction - I am a Feminist, and I believe in gender equality!  Women and women are different. Men and men are different. Women and men are different. But we're all human, and as such we should all have access to the FULL range of human emotions and characteristics (both masculine and feminine) irregardless of biological sex.

New Books, More Books, Books EVERYWHERE!

More books ordered from Book Depository! I’m very excited about these ones as they are almost all new (published this year) and have fantastic reviews. The Gracekeepers is recommended by Ursula Le Guin herself. The Nightingale was voted Goodreads top historical novel of the year (over 57,000 votes). I know I’m slipping in one by a male author, but All the Light We Cannot See won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction 2015, and I want to keep on top of Pulitzer and Man Booker prize-winning novels whether or not they are appropriate for this project.

Reference List:

Boje, D. M. (2001). Narrative methods for organisational & communication research. London, UK: Sage Publications Ltd.

Butler, J. (2004). Undoing gender. Oxfordshire, UK: Routledge.

Crawford, M. (2012). Transformations: Women, gender, and psychology (2nd ed.). McGraw-Hill Education.

Kimmel, M. (2013). The gendered society (5^th ed.). New York, NY: Oxford University Press.

Walter, N. (2010). Living dolls: The return to sexism. London, UK: Virago Press.

Calling All Bookworms

I was in the middle of writing a post on feminism, difference and women's leadership, but suddenly it all felt just a tad too deep and controversial for a rainy Friday afternoon! Plus, I've had rehearsals for the dance show I'm organising, and it's my second to last week at my current job and I'm tying up a million loose ends, so I feel I have a legitimate excuse not to be quite so 'academic' today...or tomorrow.

However, I didn't want to stop writing, so instead I have compiled mini reviews of my latest reading endeavours. Somehow I still managed 2000 words!

So without further ado...

1. Year of Wonders: A Novel of the Plague (2001) by Geraldine Brooks

Applicability Rating: 7.5/10

Relevant Themes: Self-actualisation, gender roles, religion, courage in crisis

Key Thoughts: Pulitzer Prize-winning author Geraldine Brooks is a gripping storyteller, and even if I didn’t think Year of Wonders was applicable to my project, I would wholeheartedly recommend this novel. Her non-fiction book (which I read for a post-colonial literature), Nine Parts of Desire: The Hidden World of Islamic Women (1995), is equally fascinating, so add that to your reading list.

This particular novel is told through the eyes of Anna, a brave young women living in a plague village in 17^th century England. During the fateful year of 1666, she and her fellow villagers face the spread of this deadly disease and the burgeoning rise of superstition and witch hunts. Brooks doesn’t shy away from recounting every gory detail as she vividly explores Anna’s progression from a cautious, unremarkable wife and mother, to a strong, independent female character. As Anna struggles to survive, and one could even say ‘find herself and her place in the world,’ a year of tragedy becomes instead annus mirabilis, a "year of wonders."

Anna is not only engaging and likeable, but she also learns how to take action and, ultimately, determines her own fate, standing up for what is ‘right’ and making decisions despite the expectations and beliefs of those around her. She isn’t defined solely in relation to men and isn’t limited by them (whereas Le Guin’s Lavinia is largely complicit in her fate and, subsequently, never emerges as or becomes a person in her own right). In fact, a comparison/contrast between Anna and Lavinia could bring up some very interesting questions about gender roles, female leadership and self-actualisation. For example: As women in positions of marginal ‘power’ (Anna as a healer, Lavinia as a sage), what expectations are placed on Anna & Lavinia? What similarities exist? What differences, if any? What dangers do they face due to their ‘power’? (i.e. Anna fears being accused as a witch, Lavinia is afraid her son will be forcibly taken away from her). 

 

2. Day After Night (2009) by Anita Diamant

Applicability Rating: 6/10

Relevant Themes: Friendship & solidarity, crisis situation, women's experiences

Key Thoughts: I really wish Diamant would write another novel with the same level of depth, scope and imaginative appeal as The Red Tent. I’ve now read two more of her most recent books, Day After Night and The Boston Girl, which, although well written and interesting, neither have the same complexity or narrative insight as Diamant’s dramatic re-telling of Dinah’s story.

As I’ve noted previously, while the focus is on motherhood and the bonds between women as opposed to women's leadership, The Red Tent's ‘universal’ themes and linear narrative lends itself to discussion on the 'power of women' and the importance of female bonds. How do women interact with one another when there are clear power boundaries? How does age affect leadership among women? Dinah's grandmother Rebekah is an example of a strong, perhaps almost masculine leader (see pages 147 - 166) who has to make difficult decisions which are often criticised.

Day After Night, on the other hand, is specifically concerned with Jewish women’s trauma and displacement immediately following WWII. Held in Atlit, a camp for over 270 ‘illegal’ immigrants to Israel in 1945, four young women struggle to start-over in a new country without friends, family, or, seemingly, a future. Diamant is a compassionate storyteller, and manages to thoughtfully portray the psychological struggles the women face as they are gathered in this ‘waiting’ place. While not specifically concerned with leadership, one character, Shayndel, a Polish Zionist who fought the Germans with a band of partisans, does take up the ‘leader’ mantel during an escape from Atlit. I suppose the ‘escape’ could be analysed in terms of it being a leadership moment (clear context, purpose, leader, followers) but it would require reading the entire book to make any sense of it, and there just isn’t enough in terms of 'women’s leadership' for it to be very compelling or particularly relevant. 

3. The Ten-Year Nap (2008) by Meg Wolitzer

Applicability Rating: 5/10

Relevant Themes: Working mothers vs. stay-at-home mothers, female ambition, disillusionment, money, motherhood

Key Thoughts: I was hoping that Wolitzer would be the contemporary version of Marilyn French or Mary McCarthy, especially since her bestselling novels are predominantly concerned with third-wave feminist issues. But unfortunately she lacks the finesse, insight and literary acumen to be considered their successor. (I’m still waiting to find a modern female equivalent who writes like French or even, Byatt).

The Ten-Year Nap follows a group of highly educated mothers who have left the workforce for one reason or another (not entirely convincingly) to raise their children (or child) in modern-day New York City. There is so much potential within this broad topic – the double bind of careers and motherhood – but Wolitzer conducts only a superficial analysis of the 'un-triumphant female.' And while some characters are reasonably engaging, others are simply boring stereotypes. The ‘grand narratives’ of women’s work, motherhood, and stay-at-home-mums could have been deconstructed and resituated (and then celebrated) but, alas, this was not to be. All I was left with was a feeling of superficiality and an unresolved dilemma – what is Wolitzer’s point/message? What is she even trying to say about this topic? I'd hazard a guess that even she doesn't quite know.

Furthermore, her characters are too tidy – or too much of a type, and the narrative veers incongruously between differing perspectives and irrelevant ‘moments’ from the lives of women throughout history. Perhaps as a book of short stories, linked by location or theme, this might have worked, but in novel form it is just so ‘meh,’ for lack of a better word! As Jill observes near the end of the novel: “This is the ending. It’s just not satisfying, that’s all.” How apt. 

4. The Shadow of the Sun (1964) by A. S. Byatt

Applicability Rating: 5.5/10

Key Thoughts: Byatt is a marvellous writer! I can’t believe I’ve never read anything of hers in full before (summer reading list = Possession). It was a bit of a lucky dip selecting one of her books to read for this endeavour, but somehow I ended up with her very first novel, The Shadow of the Sun. Unconventional, beautifully composed, yet incredibly frustrating, are how I would describe this book in which Byatt tells the story of a troubled, (overly) sensitive seventeen-year-old. Anna Severell is the daughter of a renowned novelist, and it is her struggle to discover and develop her own personality and to be/come someone while under the shadow of her father (the metaphorical ‘sun’) which drives most of the action (or more accurately, it is Anna’s continued refusal to act which causes things happen).

With regards to ‘women’s leadership,’ the topic is not explored in any great depth or detail. However, Anna does make a few succinct observations on what it means to be a man or a woman searching for his/her ‘place in the sun’ in a world of binary opposites and socially constructed expectations and ideas. For example, in a confrontation between Anna and her Father, Byatt writes:

Anna studied him with a gentleness that was not his, but Caroline’s. A sceptical female gentleness. She saw that he had been carried away by a picture of her, having inherited his power, advancing further along his path, and she was touched by a faith in her which she had never hoped to see. But she had thought more about it than he had, and was more aware than he was of the difference there was between his power, and whatever she had inherited from him. She feared that she lacked his bodily strength, that she was not his size, that she could not be prodigal of power as he was, but must husband her resources or be easily exhausted, even when she had found out how to use them. This was partly because she was a woman; also because she was a woman she was constantly tempted as he would never have been, to give up, to rest on someone else’s endeavour, to expend her energy ‘usefully’ at the kitchen sink. And this, she thought, made it harder to go on looking for ways to go forward, when one had to fight against the temptation – socially approved – to stay where one was. She thought, he doesn’t really know, with a certain scorn (p. 200).

5. Top Girls (1982) by Caryl Churchill

Applicability Rating: 8/10

Relevant Themes: Women at work, masculinities, agentic leadership, capitalism

Key Thoughts: For reasons which make no sense to me now, I actually hated this play when I first read it. But after watching a screen version and re-reading the text, I've developed a new appreciation for Churchill’s witty, yet ultimately tragic insights into the modern (70s/80s) workplace.

The most striking feature of the play is that all the characters in it are women and no men appear on stage for its entire duration. Act I opens with Marlene, the newly appointed Managing Director of ‘Top Girls’ Employment Agency, formally celebrating her promotion with a group of 'friends.' But these aren’t just any friends, they are a curious mix of women from the past, both fictional and real. Marlene opens the evening cheerfully, saying: “We’ve all come a long way. To our courage and the way we changed our lives and our extraordinary achievements.” (They laugh and drink a toast). (p. 14). The interplay between all these diverse characters and personalities is both clever and entertaining, as each are given a chance (albeit while constantly being interrupted) to share their [his]story with the group.

However, their individual ‘successes’ are not necessarily worth celebrating. In describing the premise for the play, Churchill writes: “I wanted to set off, with all those historical women celebrating Marlene’s achievement, to look as if it were going to be celebration of women achieving things, and then to put other perspectives on it, it show that just to achieve the same things that men had achieved in capitalist society wouldn’t be a good object.” Churchill explores this contradiction as she moves into Act II set in the office of ‘Top Girls’ Employment Agency.

In his commentary on the play, Bill Naismith observes that “the office women have achieved relative success and independence within a system created essentially by men” (p. xxxv). Within this capitalist economy and blatantly hierarchical company, it is only the fittest who survive (seemingly irrespective of their gender). Marlene and her colleagues are largely dismissive of men (‘Men are awful bullshitters’ they contend), and they are certainly clever and capable, but they fail to challenge patriarchal authority and have themselves become agentic 'Queen Bees' (determined and ruthless) in order to succeed in a ‘man’s world.’ This is no more obvious than when Angie, Marlene’s ‘niece,’ shows up at her office and Marlene takes a recognizably 'masculine' (cold, distant) stance as she is unwilling to undermine her image or professionalism by giving Angie what she desperately needs - recognition, care, and a helping hand. However, Churchill is still sensitive to the intense difficulties and criticism women like Marlene face in entering top jobs in the workforce.

So yes, while we can celebrate instances the success and achievement of individual women in the workplace, Churchill asks, at what cost? If one still has to mould oneself to fit a patriarchal/masculine model to succeed, then we still desperately need to reform the system. 

6. Calling Invisible Women (2012) by Jeanne Ray

Applicability Rating: 6.5/10

Relevant Themes: Collective action, middle-aged women, perceptions

Key Thoughts: This is a light-hearted, clever little book, easily read in one sitting. The premise is simple, but enduringly(?) relevant. Women who, after a certain age, are no longer valued for their beauty or intelligence, and have little real ‘power’ left beyond the private sphere, inevitably start to feel invisible. But what happens, Ray asks, when they actually become invisible?

While there are moments of 'leadership', such as when the protagonist, Clover, starts a collective movement to help invisible women become recognised, appreciated and, ultimately, cured of their invisibility, I would shy away from using this book as, at times, it does come across as a bit silly. The metaphor itself is powerful, but I would have preferred to see it used as the premise for a short story. Especially since in some of the chapters it felt like Ray was struggling to make up her word count and many of the characters were frustratingly one-dimensional (such as Clover’s daughter). 

New on the Reading List:

Flow Down Like Silver	Ki Longfellow	2009	Historical Fiction
White Oleander	Janet Fitch	1999	Novel
Little Black Book of Stories	A S Byatt	2005	Short Stories
We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves	Karen Joy Fowler	2013	Novel
The Last Runaway	Tracy Chevalier	2013	Historical Fiction
Remarkable Creatures	Tracy Chevalier	2009	Novel
Wrong Place, Wrong Time	Tilia Klebenov	2013	Thriller

I feel that I finally have an adequate representation of novels, plays & short story collections, enough to provide a meaningful commentary on what could possibly work and what definitely won't. Almost large enough to begin ‘grouping’ into genres/themes/patterns. For example:

• Historical Literature – slavery, pre-1850, pre-1980
• Modern/Contemporary Fiction
• Feminist Fiction
• Short Stories
• Prize-winning Literature
• Dystopian + Science Fiction

I imagine that by the end of the Christmas break I'll have read (or skimmed in some cases) 40+ books (narrowed down from 100+ ). I do have some ideas on how I will utilise the myriad options in my thesis, but that's another post entirely! 

Storytelling as the ‘Other’ (Part 2)

Puzzles, Puzzling, Piecing. This is like slowly putting together a 5000-piece puzzle. Before the whole picture begins to materialise (is it a gorgeous scenic vista or a magical wonderland?), I have to build the edges. And in this lovely little analogy, the edges are the theory. And since I don’t quite know yet what the puzzle will end up looking like, I suppose it’s more like a Wasgij Puzzle!

In a previous entry, I included this quote: “The theory should illuminate a work, and a work should illuminate a theory” (Rapaport, 2011, p. 9). I would like to explore this claim further, investigating how it can be applied to women’s leadership development. What interpretative method/s could I apply to reading literature so as that the text will effectively illuminate issues surrounding women’s leadership? In this post I will take this question into the theoretical realm of post-structuralism and deconstruction, and consider the potential usefulness of these methods for my analysis.

But before answering this question, I want to take a step back and look at how Badaracco (my original inspiration for this project) has structured his analysis of literature in Questions of Character. As I’ve said before, I do find Badaracco's style to be a little too neat and idealistic, with the main problem being that he focuses on the primacy of the ‘leader;’ a ‘type’ of objective person who fits into a universal definition of ‘leadership.’ He writes: “The basic challenges of leaders appear so widely, perhaps even universally, because they reflect enduring aspects of leadership. One is the humanity of leaders – the hopes and fears, traits and instincts of the human nature we all share. The other is the unchanging agenda, in all times and places: developing a goal…and working with and through people to make it real” (p. 6, emphasis added).

The problem with this approach is that it collapses ‘leadership’, a collective process “which encompasses not only leaders but their followers and the context in which they come into contact, into ‘leaders’, into an individually-based unit of analysis” (Ladkin, 2010, p. 5). Subsequently, this ‘great person’ construct only serves to strengthen the widespread tendency in Western society to idealise leaders, implying that only a select few have the ‘right’ traits to exercise initiative (Gemmill & Oakley, 1992) [Excerpt from my Research Project].

However, I like the way he raises thought-provoking questions by making well-known novels and plays such as Death of a Salesman, Things Fall Apart and The Love of the Last Tycoon speak deeply about moral issues in a business context, substituting the carefully crafted, prosaic business case study with the multi-layered, messy reality of everyday life. 

I’ve chosen to look at Chapter 2: “How flexible is my moral code?” Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, as I’ve recently read this novel (which is excellent by the way! I even managed to get Mitchel to read it). The key question Badaracco poses in this chapter is: “Will my moral code help me make the right decisions for my organisation, even as business conditions change?”

The first thing that Badaracco does is problematize the notion of moral codes and the ‘moral compass,’ asking: Should leaders really be as moral as possible in all situations? To counter this popular supposition, he uses Okonkwo’s tragic story, which, in part, can be blamed on the African leader’s intransigent and uncompromising moral ideals. Badaracco points out that Okonkwo’s death raises a very difficult and uncomfortable question: “Should we abandon the familiar idea that good leaders have a moral compass? This is a disturbing question because we want leaders with moral clarity, who can guide and inspire organisations, especially in tough times. But Okonkwo’s moral compass is a liability when Umuofia is fighting for its survival” (p. 32).

Badaracco then goes on to discuss a contemporary case featuring a business leader who was uncompromising on his moral code, and rather than work to find alternative solutions, walked out at great cost to the firm and many of the employees. As an alternative to the popular moral compass trope, Badaracco claims that “leaders need moral codes that are as complex, varied, and subtle as the situations in which they often find themselves. This does not mean abandoning basic values or adopting moral relativism. It does mean…embracing a wider set of human values” (p. 33).

But how do you develop a sensitive, flexible moral compass? In answer to this question, Badaracco uses Okonkwo’s story as a lesson, drawing from it a series of questions which are intended for “honest reflection” on the reader’s behalf. I think what is so gripping about Badaracco’s approach here is that while there is an expectation that you have read the book/play/short story, he retells key moments from the story (and not in any particular linear order), making the narrative come alive and providing compelling and memorable examples. There is no 'obvious ending' or simplified moral lesson, such as those found in traditional business case studies (Boje, 2001). He also briefly considers the intertextuality of the book – the perspective and intentions of the author, the historical setting, the wider social issues the novel addresses, and the reader’s active role in producing and creating meaning from the text.

Badaracco spends the bulk of his discussion on five key reflective questions:

1. How deep are the emotional roots of my moral code?
2. What do my failures tell me?
3. How have I handled ethical surprises?
4. Do I have courage to reconsider?
5. Can I crystallise my convictions?

Each of these questions are explored using examples from Things Fall Apart and with the support of current leadership theory (although Badaracco doesn’t cite many, if any, of these ideas or theories). Badaracco is careful not to prescribe answers, but rather attempts to stimulate debate and self-analysis/reflexive thinking. It's a guide to a better ‘way of being’ in the world: “Okonkwo’s life shows the importance of a leader’s moral code and offers several basic ways for leaders to test the soundness of their own deep convictions. It also warns us against viewing moral codes as simple, mechanistic devices” (p. 51).

In summary then, Badaracco takes a popular business concept (in this case a leader's in-built ‘moral compass’), problematizes widespread ideas/norms surrounding individual morality, demonstrates why there are flaws in this way of thinking (using the story of Okonkwo’s downfall), and proposes possible solution/s in the form of self-improving reflexive questions. Essentially, he is providing aspiring leaders with ideas to help them become better, more ethical, moral leaders. It’s like bookclub on steroids basically, but for men.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I really do like Badaracco’s book – it’s practical, easy-to-read and insightful, and its depth, in terms of literary analysis, is something I really appreciate. However, the overall message is that we are all on a self-directed teleological journey towards an elusive future where you/me will have become the moral leader. If only me/myself/I work hard enough to develop emotional intelligence and authenticity, then there is no reason I won’t succeed as a leader in any environment and in any situation. As Ford, Harding and Learmonth (2008) explain: “Leadership discourses are very much concerned with changing the self so as to become this good leader. In being urged to develop self-awareness, the subject is required to analyse the self as if the self were an object that can be looked at, assessed and then worked on so as to change (p. 21).

At this point it’d be nice to say: ‘Well, this method and style works really well – it’s interesting,  engaging & Badaracco’s already proven it works, so let’s just substitute male narratives with female ones and discuss (using women's literary examples) how to become more collaborative, relational and authentic leaders.’ End of story. A beautifully written, practical thesis tested on a myriad of wonderful female leaders who found it vaguely ‘empowering.’

But unfortunately (or fortunately!) I can’t bring myself to write something so blatantly post-feminist; buying into the wider discourse of Western individualism and over-simplifying the pressing issues surrounding women’s leadership by relegating problems to the ‘I/me/you’. And so I would like to turn to feminist post-structuralism, deconstruction and critical reflexivity (scary names, huh?) as potential ‘methods’ or strategies for content analysis. 

Deconstructing Texts to Story ‘Others’

First off, what does deconstruction even mean? Although providing a set definition is, as Boje points out, rather contradictory to Derrida’s original intentions, deconstruction can be explained “as an analytic strategy that exposes in a systematic way multiple ways a text can be interpreted. Deconstruction is able to reveal ideological assumptions in a way that is particularly sensitive to the supressed interests of members of disempowered, marginalised groups” (Boje, 2001, p. 19).

According to Derrida, all Western thought is based on the idea of a centre – a Truth, Ideal Form, a Presence, etc… which guarantees all meaning (Powell, 1997, p. 21). So deconstruction can be employed as a method of reading/understanding that decentres and unmasks society’s ‘grand narratives’ or essentialist ‘Truths’ (i.e. the ‘great man’ theory of leadership or ‘heroic masculinity’), making room for less visible or marginalised voices and ideas (i.e. women’s perspectives, leadership as shared process, etc...). By enacting alternative narrative analysis that stories ‘Others’ and the author, new narratives in organisation studies that are “multi-voiced, rich with fragmentation and lacking linearity” can emerge and, ultimately, work to actively destabilise hegemonic masculinities and taken-for-granted assumptions and stereotypes (Boje, 2001, p. 9).

However, caution is still in order. As Boje points out: “If we just replace one centre with our own authoritative centre, we have fallen into our own trap. The point then is not to replace one centre with another, but to show how each centre is in a constant state of change and disintegration” (p. 19). Several of the novels/short stories/plays I’ve read do attempt to deconstruct central visions, essentialist concepts and transcendent principles. For example, Top Girls, ‘Sur,’ ‘The Matter of Seggri,’ Welcome to Thebes, etc… The play Welcome to Thebes and Le Guin’s ‘The Matter of Seggri’ are both particularly interesting in this regard as they explore a reversal of the binary opposition, overthrowing patriarchy with matriarchy. But rather than just replacing one hierarchy for another, both Le Guin and Buffini open up the analysis and encourage the reader to think differently about the adverse effects of socially-constructed, gendered societies.

How does Deconstruction Relate to Post-Structuralism?

Boje writes that “for me, deconstruction is a post-structuralist epistemology” (p. 19). But what is post-structuralism? In very brief terms:

In post-structuralist perspectives that build on the performative effect of language, there is no such thing as a passive reading of a text or looking at a film: the ‘gaze’ is actively engaged both in interpreting the text (and thus the reader becomes part of the text) and in the production of the self, or subjectivity, through the very act of looking. Thus reader and text are caught up in one another – the text confers subjectivity (Ford, Harding & Learmonth, 2008, p. 5).

By taking a post-structuralist stance, one can argue that reading, writing and talking are not innocent activities, but are actively productive (Ford, et al., 2008). For example, since popular leadership discourses are impregnated with images of the ‘hero’, visions informed by a battle between ‘the good hero’ and its binary opposite, the ‘dastardly villain’ (Ford, et al., 2008, p. 21), the performative effect is such that leader = leadership in the business world. Similarly, “where men have been regarded as logical, non-emotional, aggressive, occupiers of the public world” and women the opposite (nurturing, emotional, empathetic, unstable), “these descriptors not only create the genders they supposedly do no more than describe, but become norms by which we do not feel we are truly men or truly women if we do not live up to them” (Ford, et al., 2008, p. 132).

So the aim, in terms of leadership development, is not to provide people with ideas to help them think through how to be/come good leaders as Badaracco does (although this is still a legitimate and helpful exercise), but instead, as Ford, et al. (2008) recommend to look at “the demands that have been placed on them and the ways in which those demands may be influencing who they are, as individuals, as subjects, as people involved in the on-going process of constructing the persons who turn up at the workplace each morning" (p. 11).

This critical method of reflexivity, informed by deconstruction and post-structuralism, requires the reader/leader to go beyond the self and embrace wider social, moral and historical contexts, making what was hitherto invisible (stereotypes, expectations, prejudices, ‘centres’ and ‘grand narratives,' etc...) visible and open to critique and resituation (as Boje would say). I'd like to end with a quote by Ford, Harding & Learmonth (2008), the authors of Leadership as Identity: Constructions and Deconstructions, they write:

The encouragement of self-reflexivity and critical questioning of taken for granted aspects of the experience of managers [and leaders] may facilitate a determined critique among managers that can lead to resistance to organisational control. This may be possible through active interpretation of storied accounts of peoples’ experiences and reflexive dialogical critique in which many interpretations can be surfaced (p. 184).

And by ‘storied accounts,’ why not novels, short stories & plays which explore the complexity of women’s leadership from multi-dimensional, multi-voiced 'Other' perspectives?

References:

Badaracco, J. L. (2006). Questions of character: Illuminating the heart of leadership through literature. Boston, MA:  

Harvard Business School Publishing.

Boje, D. M. (2001). Narrative methods for organisational & communication research. London, UK: Sage Publications Ltd.

Ford, J., Harding, N., & Learmonth, M. (2008). Leadership as identity: Constructions and deconstructions. New York, NY: Palgrave Macmillan.

Gemmill, G., & Oakley, J. (1992). Leadership: An alienating social myth? Human Relations, 45(2), 113-129.

Ladkin, D. (2010). Rethinking leadership: A new look at old leadership questions. Cheltenham, UK: Edward Elgar 

Publishing Limited.

Thoughts from an Enthusiastic Reader (#goals)

Storytelling as the ‘Other’ (Part 2) is coming soon I promise! But I haven’t quite finished sorting through all the data yet to compose what I really want to say/explain/impart. So instead I thought I would give an update on my latest reading endeavours.

First and foremost on my mind has been a book called Modern Misogyny: Anti-Feminism in a Post-Feminist Era. This is a recent study on feminism (published Nov 2014) by Kristin J. Anderson, a Professor of Psychology at the University of Houston-Downtown in the US. I read this book over a cup or two of coffee in a single afternoon (it was honestly that good!). If you’re looking for a concise, well-researched, but easy-to-read summary of the state of Western feminism (or post-feminism) today, then this is a must-read.

While Anderson doesn’t discuss women’s leadership in any great detail, feminism is one of the key informing concepts I’ll be using in my research to justify the use of women’s literature and the value of women’s perspectives. Rather than being gender-neutral as many people would like to believe, leadership discourses are still informed, however implicitly, by hegemonic masculinity and “impregnated with concepts of the hero” (Ford, Harding & Learmonth, 2008, p. 116)

Anderson begins her analysis by discussing post-feminism, she writes that “…post-feminism is marked by the shift from feminism as a collective movement for women’s liberation to superficial empowerment of the individual and her choices” (p. 19). In this neoliberal, and increasingly narcissistic and self-focused culture, feminist goals, Anderson contends, have been depoliticised and collective action rendered largely irrelevant: “Post-feminism is about the individual woman – personal choice, individual expression, and individual career success – and no recognition of the need for a united and collective social movement to liberate all women and enact structural change” (p. 19).

Anderson then goes on to discuss a whole range of current feminist issues, including hyper sexualisation and pseudo ‘empowerment’ in Western culture, sexism as part of a wider system of inequality, the double bind faced by women in the workplace, popular understandings of the term ‘feminism’ (i.e. ‘man-hating’ feminism), and the ‘end of men’ and ‘boys crisis.’
The key point Anderson makes is that we still need feminism (and not post-feminism), and I think she does a fantastic job of explaining why.

I particularly like this salient quote: “Feminists tend to see women and men as not very different from each other, and this is threatening to the gender status quo. If, as feminism argues, women can do what previously only men were thought to be able to do, then you can see how some would perceive manhood as under assault and the perpetrator of the assault feminism. Manhood is exclusionary and, to the extent that men’s activities can be performed by women, it is no longer a special role, no longer male. If women can perform the men’s role, it must mean neither the qualities nor the role are so special after all” (p. 66).

As a result, a whole tribe of anti-feminist authors (for example, Kate O’Briene, Harvey Mansfield, Roy Baumeister, C. H. Sommers, to name a few) have emerged who are not interested in equality but rather “in keeping boys and men at the centre. But not any men, white men in particular” (p. 163). I really like how Anderson alludes to this idea of an identifiable “centre,” a centre that has the potential to be deconstructed and re-imagined. While replacing patriarchy with matriarchy, or male with female, is not my intention, there is definitely room to destabilise systems of inequality by exploring and emphasizing women’s narratives that disturb the centre.

We desperately need more self-labelled feminists in business who can see beyond the individualist rhetoric of post-feminism and recognise the need for structural change. As Anderson argues, feminists need to remain focused on raising women’s awareness of continued gender inequity in order to motivate young women to understand that work still needs to be done (p. 12).

Not convinced? Before you disagree with me, I challenge you to read Modern Misogyny (it’s at the public library so you have no excuse!).

Novels, Stories, Narratives…

I spent several hours last week trawling through all the women’s reading lists I could find and it turned up a few new exciting possibilities (Year of Wonders by Geraldine Brooks, Calling Invisible Women by Jeanne Ray, The Ten-Year Nap by Meg Wolitzer)! At this point I feel I'm abandoning the idea of using short stories…I have found one really excellent short story (‘Sur’ by Ursula Le Guin) but that’s it so far (note to self: Summer reading list = short story collections).

Latest reads/possibilities:

1. The Women’s Room by Marilyn French

Applicability Rating: 6.5/10

Relevant Themes: Expectations & perceptions, women’s work, feminism

Key Thoughts: Published in 1977 at the end of the ‘sexual revolution,’ The Women’s Room sparked outrage for its controversial and forward-thinking ideas on women’s rights and desires (addressing the ‘what women want’ question). Set in 1950s America, The Women’s Room follows the life of Mira Ward, a conventional and submissive young woman in a traditional marriage, and her gradual feminist awakening. Now considered a ‘classic’ piece of women’s literature (although I doubt many women my age would have even heard of it), French suggests in her opening introduction (written in 2006) that it is just as relevant for today’s audiences (think white, middleclass women) as it was 38 years ago. She notes that “despite many easements on female life in the west, the world’s ethos has moved in the opposite direction – toward more hostility between the sexes” (p. xvi). I’m not quite sure this is the case and whether or not The Women’s Room transcends time boundaries in quite the manner French intends (there is a fair amount of material which is concerned solely with issues addressed by second-wave feminism), however I did find this novel much more engaging and interesting than Mary McCarthy’s The Group (1963) which follows a similar coming-of-age, 'awakening' premise.

One of the best things about this novel are the lively discussions French crafts between Mira and her female friends at Harvard. These scenes make you wish you were part of their dynamic group! Underpinning all their debates is, as Val succinctly observes, the issue of equality between the sexes: “The simple truth – that men are only equal – can undermine a culture more devastatingly than any bomb.”

However, I am still a bit hesitant to use this book as part of the literary research section. First of all, it is very long (a mere 526 pages!) and rather than read huge chunks all at once, it’s more a book you want to read in snippets (it took me about 5 days rather than my normal 24-48 hours). Secondly, there is almost an insuperable amount of ideas discussed and contained within the text, from politics, to feminism, to marriage, to racism, to sex, etc...It moves between topics and themes with dizzying speed, leaving nothing sacred. It left me feeling unsettled, but at the same time revitalised. But I can imagine some women absolutely hating it! Nonetheless, French is a witty and observant storyteller who is entertaining and engaging even if she does spend pages and pages discussing women’s domestic work and the trials and tribulations of the middleclass housewife.

Would I use The Women’s Room then? I think it definitely has a lot of potential as a text which can work to deconstruct patriarchal/male-dominated grand narratives, but I can’t imagine women sitting down to read the full novel in as short a timeframe as they would, say, The Lifeboat or The Invention of Wings. With this consideration in mind, I may use it as a reference text (there are some excellent discussions in there!) or as a suggestion for further reading.

2. Lavinia by Ursula K. Le Guin

Applicability Rating: 5/10 (or, perhaps 8/10)

Relevant Themes: Gender roles, maternal leadership, crisis situations

Key Thoughts: I love Le Guin so I was very excited when I found she’d recently (in 2008) written a historical novel featuring, and even named for, an ‘historical’ female character. The novel relates the life of Lavinia, princess of Laurentum, a very minor character from Virgil’s epic poem the Aeneid. Sounds like a great premise, right? Unfortunately, Lavinia never emerges as the strong, decisive female character you want her to. Instead I found her underdeveloped and rather wooden, as well as unlikeable. She vacillates, cries, makes odd decisions, and is, ultimately, painfully complicit in her 'fate' (in other words, the decisions of men).

There were, of course, a lot of interesting, well-researched details in the story and I can see what Le Guin was trying to achieve by 'completing' or fleshing out one of Virgil's female characters – giving her a 'voice' as Queen of Latium (filling Le Guin’s “immense white area”). But somehow the whole story fell flat, for me at least, due to the fatalistic tendencies of its heroine (although I’m not sure I can even call her a heroine – she didn’t really do anything). In terms of women’s leadership, Lavinia does exhibit a form of maternal leadership for her ‘people,’ but readily abandons her ‘power’ in favour of her son. Everything she does is vis-à-vis men, even though she has so much potential to break out of their confines and rules. Perhaps this is a good discussion point (e.g. why are women often so complicit in their own oppression?), however, I think Le Guin’s ‘Sur’ makes a better contender for my research project. Although perhaps there is room for simultaneously analysing multiple Le Guin stories? I have her non-fiction book, Dancing at the Edge of the World: Thoughts on Words, Women, Places (1989) so I will test the potential of this idea further as I read her critical essays.

I’ve just finished reading The Boston Girl (2014) by Anita Diamant (author of The Red Tent) and I’ve also skimmed Top Girls (1982) by Caryl Churchill for the third time. They are both possibilities as well but I’ll leave my reviews of them for the next entry.

Sometimes it seems that I am reading a lot of women’s literature which won’t be applicable or useful for my study. However, as Jane Smiley (the Pulitzer Prize winning author of A Thousand Acres) points out: “Sometimes the reader has to read novels that don’t work for her and think about why they don’t work – representative lists, unlike “my favourite” lists, have to include uncongenial works” (quote found in Thirteen Ways of Looking at the Novel, 2005, p. 271). I admire Smiley’s approach to literature – she read 100 ‘great’ novels over the course of 3 years and then proceeded to write about her experience and the effect/s the different books had on her as a reader (reflective thinking at its best!). 

What else I’ve read…which won’t work:    

              

• Property by Valerie Martin (2003)

This short novel won the Orange Prize for women’s fiction in 2003 and I can understand why! It’s a very gripping tale set in New Orleans in 1828 against the backdrop of civil unrest and slave uprisings. Property tells the story of Manon Gaudet, the unhappy wife of a plantation owner, and Sarah, Manon’s house slave whom she brought into the marriage. The drama is centred on the fact that Sarah is not only Manon’s slave, but also her husband’s unwilling mistress, causing resentment on both Manon and Sarah’s sides. There is no happy ending to this haunting tale, in fact it is quite grim and heart-breaking in the way it explores humanity's predilection for cruelty. However, it doesn’t say anything about the ‘women question’ or leadership in particularly. Its strength lie is in its historical analysis and narrative power rather than in topical relevancy.

• House Girl by Tara Conklin (2013)

Conklin’s debut novel is a reasonably well-written & mildly interesting story, but overall it lacked finesse and depth. The narrative switched between the late-1800s, where it followed the unhappy tale of a young slave woman, and the 2000s where it focuses on the story of a young, outgoing, annoyingly ‘perfect’ female lawyer who is trying to 'survive' in a male-dominated law firm. While Lina, the litigation lawyer, makes some pertinent (although rather cliché) remarks on male and female dynamics in the workplace, there is nothing in particular that makes this story stand out. It's more a journey of uninspiring self-discovery for the not very likeable lawyer and a tragically (though predictable) ending for the fictitious slave girl. Ultimately it fails to engage the reader and, I feel, trivialises the horrors of slavery in the way it flits between meaningless details about Lina’s contemporary existence and the slave girl's sad story. It's a piece I wouldn't be quick to recommend.

• How to Be Both by Ali Smith (2014)

Now, I was very excited about this book when I first got my hands on it. Shortlisted for the Man Booker prize in 2014, and the winner of the Baileys Women’s Prize for Fiction, How to Be Both promised to explore gender boundaries and perceptions in a new and exciting way. Unfortunately I didn’t make it even half way through before I became extremely frustrated with Smith's disjointed, overly complicated narrative style. Yes, it is a clever post-modern ‘work of art’, but I just didn’t like it. [Note: I actually went back and reread this book several months later and garnered a lot more from it the second time round, in fact, I might dare to say I even enjoyed it!]

• A Thousand Acres by Jane Smiley (1991)

On the other hand, I did love A Thousand Acres, the 1992 Pulitzer prize-winning novel by Jane Smiley. Following the basic plotline of Shakespeare’s King Lear, Smiley tells the story of an aging farmer (a patriarchal and misogynistic white man) who offers his prosperous Iowa farm to his three daughters. Tragic (although not quite as tragic as Shakespeare’s classic), dark and unpredictable (well, unless you’re familiar with King Lear), the novel explores family power relations and the transformation of Ginny (the oldest daughter and narrator) from a naive and weak pawn in her family’s power struggle, to an independent and strong woman. Why won’t it work for my analysis? Ultimately, I think the novel says a lot more about trauma and family relationships than leadership, so to reduce it to a ‘lesson’ on leadership would distort its more salient themes. But I highly recommend this book if you haven’t read it already!

I am more than halfway through reading and note-taking for my section on Women and Leadership. A couple more texts to go through and 8-10 journals. The plan is to finish the research by midweek and then work on a comprehensive outline. It may be a little bit ambitious to try and have the whole section written by the end of October, but I least want to have half of it done by then! #goals 

References:

Anderson, K. J. (2015). Modern misogyny: Anti-feminism in a post-feminist era. New York, NY: Oxford University Press.

Ford, J., Harding, N., & Learmonth, M. (2008). Leadership as identity: Constructions and deconstructions. New York, NY: Palgrave Macmillan.

Storytelling as the 'Other' (Part 1)

I often like to start essays with a quote or short anecdote. I see it as an act of centering oneself; a moment of mindfulness in the swirling mass of thoughts and possibilities:

One of the questions I still haven’t fully resolved in terms of my thesis outline is: How am I going to read the literature? What am I really hoping to achieve and demonstrate in my analysis of the literary texts? And I think what’s really important about this section, is that I write what I want to write. Essentially, everything I write should be authentic for and meaningful to me as well as the reader.

When I was desperately trying to finish my research project last semester (and yes, surprisingly for me, it was rather last minute!), one of the parts that frustrated me and I struggled with the most was applying the leadership theory to the short story. As I was writing that section I knew deep down that it wasn’t what I wanted to write. It didn’t really have any meaning for me, as both author and reader, and subsequently, it felt rather contrived (which showed!). One of my other key concerns was that by reading a cultural work in this way, especially since 'leadership' was a secondary concern to racial issues in the short story, I was reducing it to fit a neat model that was too reductive and subsequently, overly simplistic. 

I’ve noticed that when I am writing merely to achieve a grade, no matter how technically good the piece is, it will never be excellent. In these cases, there is always a feeling of stiltedness. 

Disconnection. Disengagement...No moment/s of epiphany. The ‘so what’ remains frustratingly elusive.

So I feel that more than anything, I want what I write about for, say, The Lifeboat or The Invention of Wings, to be engaging, persuasive, provocative and authentic/genuine/true for me as well as others. I think I’ve been getting too caught up in the idea that I have to completely divorce literary analysis from my subjective ‘interpretative’ readings of the texts. That my analysis has to be strikingly precise and wholly relevant to business leaders – raising questions which will instantly encourage reflective practice and, ultimately, ‘change' people for the better. And this isn’t a bad goal. In fact, this is what I believe good literature has the power to do. But is it the right or only objective for this thesis, at this particular point in time?

I’ve been looking back at some of my favourite English literature essays, particularly the ones concerned with thematic analysis and sociological criticism, trying to decipher what exactly made them so compelling (and why I loved writing them!!).

For example, in my essay “‘Voicing’ and ‘Identifying’ Sexual Violence in the Congo and Iraq” the problem/issue presented is political: “In patriarchal societies and cultures, the battle for domination and nation-wide control is played out on the powerless and faceless female body.”

But women’s literature has the power to speak about this issue in a different, more inclusive and expressive way than purely factual reports or non-fiction ever can. And it is through the medium of theatre that two female authors, Heather Raffo & Lynn Nottage, are able to give the previously ‘faceless female bodies’ powerful “new ‘voices’ and identities, freeing them to tell their own stories and become more than just another rape statistic.”

Similarly, in another essay titled “The Struggle for Author/ity: Interrogating the Colonising Acts of Writing and Reading in J.M. Coetzee’s Foe,” I investigated the novel’s overarching concerns with the colonising activity of writing and reading and subsequently, the ensuing power struggle for authorship and identity. The main thrust of the essay was to consider how Foe engaged with the ‘reader’ and involved him/her in the reading and writing process.

Rather than separating ideas/theory from close textual analysis, I considered the methods Coetzee used to convey his message and the affect this has on the reader. By writing in metatextual form, using opposing binaries and changing narrative patterns throughout the novel, Coetzee places the reader in a unique position, spurring him/her on to question the very nature of language and the ideologies which inform his/her own beliefs on patriarchy, colonialism, feminism and race.

I think this form of theoretical + textual analysis leads on naturally to deeper reflective practice and discussion, for example:

In the end then, Coetzee challenges the reader to demystify the writer’s art, to find within Foe traces of other sounds or voices, and to interrogate any attempt at authority (Maher 40). This small journey of discovery leads to greater questions about the struggle for authority and power in colonised nations, as well as the ideological assumptions that encode a reader’s own stories and beliefs. Like Susan, “I” must ask, “Who is speaking me? To what order do I belong? And you: who are you?” (133).

So what does this mean for me? How can I potentially harness this ‘method’ of analysis in my thesis?

In The Literary Theory Toolkit (2011), Herman Rapaport explains that in the application of a critical approach to literary analysis, ‘examples’ or selected texts/narratives should work in such a way that they help explain and develop a theory that to many people makes no sense without a ‘key’: “The theory should illuminate a work, and a work should illuminate a theory” (p. 9). Rapaport goes on to describe “art’s purpose,” noting that ‘art’ has the potential to “revolutionise our perception in such a way that we won’t see the world as we ordinarily do. In this sense, it is as if literary language itself were a sort of revolutionary hero that reforms the fallen (automatic, habitual) thinking” (p. 15).

In some ways this is very similar to what Badaracco attempts to achieve in Questions of Character, particularly with regards to what it means and requires to be/come a more ethical and moral leader in the twenty-first century. However, his analysis of classic literature tends to lack depth in terms of leadership theory, as well as focusing more on ‘great man’ constructs of leader = leadership. This is most likely because the book is geared towards mainstream audiences who want a ‘practical’ step-by-step guide as opposed to an academically rigorous approach.

However, by thoughtfully incorporating theory on women’s leadership with storytelling (or re-telling?) and textual/rhetorical analysis, I believe the novels/plays/short stories I select will be able to 'voice' something important about contemporary women’s leadership and followership. Especially since good literature can articulate alternatives to dominant worldviews by making thought as felt and feeling as thought (Williams, 1977).

Rather than being purely reflective (as I tried to do in my research project), my role (as I tread the fine line between leadership specialist/management facilitator and literary analyst) should be to eloquently summarise, illuminate, analyse, and provide questions which give female leaders and aspiring leaders a ‘key’ which will help them both understand leadership from a different perspective (the voice of the ‘Other’) and encourage meaningful reflective practice. Creating ‘space’ for the reader to engage in new ways with women’s leadership issues and “working to relate the extraordinariness of imaginative literature to the ordinariness of cultural processes” (Filmer, 2003, p. 199).

I will leave it at that for now (along with another inspiring quote, this time by Ursula K. Le Guin!) as I have a whole lot more reading to do on storytelling and narrative methods…Part 2 will follow as soon as I have completed the next stage of research! 

References:

Filmer, P. (2003). “Structures of feeling and socio-cultural formations: The significance of literature and experience to Raymond Williams's sociology of culture.” The British Journal of Sociology, 54, 199-219.

Rapaport, H. (2011). The literary theory toolkit: A compendium of concepts and methods. Chichester, UK. John Wiley & Sons Limited.

Williams, R. (1977). “Structures of Feeling.” Marxism and Literature. Oxford, UK: Oxford UP.