The Swedish female playwrights Alfhild Agrell, Victoria Benedictsson, and Anne Charlotte Leffler were contemporaries of Henrik Ibsen and August Strindberg. They also wrote novels and short stories, and are considered representatives of the Scandinavian modern breakthrough in Swedish histories of literature. At Scandinavian theatres Benedictsson had great success with
The three playwrights’ successes did not last for very long, though; by the early twentieth century their plays were judged as low quality, recognized by historians of literature as simply constructed melodramatic pieces of indignation and frustration. However, it is precisely the melodramatic elements, at the core of this critique, that are vital components in a dramaturgy representing the emotions and ideas of the female protagonists in these women authors’ plays. In this respect, different variations of the central melodramatic figure of the Garden of Eden from which the heroine has been expelled interplay with representations of intimacy. Christine Gledhill points out that in melodrama this figure represents the conditions of mental and social well-being and happiness that could have been, in contrast to the actual situation of the protagonist (16–17, 25). Contrary to the melodramatic nostalgic view of the Garden as a harmonious space forever lost, the variations in Agrell’s, Benedictsson’s, and Leffler’s plays render a utopian emancipatory quality, depicting intimacy and its conditions beyond the prevailing social structures of the bourgeoisie (Johansson Lindh, Som en vildfågel 285, 296). Thus, the plays interfered in the social debate on marriage and female decency of the 1880s in Scandinavia.
Leaning on Jonathan Flatley’s idea of aesthetic practices as mechanisms “through which one is interested in the world”, my stance is that the melodramatic aesthetics of these women’s plays can be regarded as instruments to engage in “the world” by expressing the emotional and bodily reactions to it from the perspective of bourgeois women (Flatley 1). The melodramatic strategy of representation, particularly in Agrell’s and Leffler’s plays, is characterized by the contrasting of different places involving childhood homes and married life, the countryside and the city, Sweden and foreign countries representing Gardens of Eden and their opposites. The melodramatic figure of the Garden can be connected to Maria Di Battista’s and Deborah Epstein Nord’s elaboration on the notion of a home in English women’s literature. They find that women writers and their various historical and cultural avatars seldom feel at home at the place where they were born or that custom has allotted to them (Di Battista and Epstein Nord 5–6). In multinational writers’ fiction, migration expresses a yearning for a place where life is better and where people, especially women, are freer. Citing Nadine Gordimer and Mary McCarthy, Di Battista and Epstein Nord call this place “the exact location of a person” and
Since the spatial turn, space has become a rather rich term. Linda McDowell and Joanne P. Sharp state that space is an “increasingly ubiquitous term in critical thinking, where it is used in both material and metaphorical ways” (3). Domosh and Seager remind us of the simple fact that all of our actions take place in particular places and that the spatial organization and relations of those places are just not a backdrop but actually help to shape the actions (xxi). In this chapter I will move between the terms space and place, which will be used in different senses. Space refers to a discursive room inhabited by agents and structured by power relationships between them which are materialized and produced in concrete places. In the melodramatic spatial mimesis of the plays concrete places such as the protagonists’ childhood homes, rural idylls, and countries abroad are turned into spaces allowing a better and freer life and where the individual feels at ease – the protagonists’ visions of true homes.
The female protagonists look back to and struggle to create their Gardens of Eden anew. Their actual homes are often hostile spaces in which the female protagonists risk being broken down by suppressing their intellectual, physical, and emotional needs in order to meet the expected behaviour as wives and daughters. These very homes are perceived as places belonging to someone else, into which the protagonists are brought merely by misfortune or by their own mistakes. In this respect, in my chapter the tension between the bourgeois life of a Swedish city and places abroad is of particular interest. How are the Swedish city and places outside its borders, including the national borders, represented in the plays, and what discursive spaces do they represent? The aim of my chapter is to illuminate the function of these melodramatic places in the mediation of ideas of intimate relationships by using examples from Alfhild Agrell’s play Ensam [Alone; 1884], Victoria Benedictsson’s Final [Finale; 1885], and Anne Charlotte Leffler’s Elfvan [Elf; 1883]. In the concluding section of the chapter, I will elaborate on the ideas on nation, gender, intimacy, and freedom that the space of the Swedish city and its foreign alternatives accommodate.
Places are contrasted at the level of the fictive environment in which the action takes place, as in Anne Charlotte Leffler’s Elfvan. Here, in the first act, the protagonist’s home with her husband is contrasted with a castle in the woods in the second act, at which Elf escapes the seduction of a demonic baron. Furthermore, places are contrasted at the level of dialogue, for example, in retrospectives of the protagonists’ childhood lives, envisioning futures that are either open possibilities or have already proved to be impossible to reach.
True homes and false homes are represented in the realistic settings and dramatic worlds in which the protagonists move; simultaneously, the melodramatic contrasting of those spaces helps to express the female protagonists’ feelings and ideas provoked by the situation in which they find themselves. The melodramatic spatial mimesis thereby contributes to criticizing the gender norms of patriarchal bourgeois society. The three plays that provide the empirical material of this chapter are chosen to show different ways of representing the Swedish city and places outside its borders. To start with, in Benedictsson’s Final the representation of Europe is realistic, without the melodramatic contrasting of good and evil spaces as in Leffler’s and Agrell’s plays. Final is included in the analysis to show that the absence of such contrasting spaces has consequences for the idea of a true home and the possibility of intimacy.
Spatiality furthermore informs the level of theory, in Adriana Cavarero’s notion of a narratable self, which is exposed from birth within the interactive scene of the world. Cavarero’s phenomenology draws on the difference that Hannah Arendt illuminates between what a person is and who she is. What a person is – for example, a woman, wife, or daughter – can be defined in philosophical terms, while who she is escapes such definitions and can be captured only in a narration of her life story (Cavarero, Relating Narratives 35, 60). While the exposure to other human beings in interactive scenes is constitutive, it also puts the individual at risk of being hurt, in the event that her unique narratable self is ignored. The narratability of every person is, according to Cavarero, a pre-political condition. Relational scenarios in which narratable selves appear have the same revealing and expositive qualities that Hannah Arendt gives to politics (Kottman vii–xxxii, x, xix–xx). In history, Cavarero writes, there has been a general absence of shared political scenes in which women could show who they are to their peers. The scenarios in which women could appear as narratable selves were situated within the domestic sphere (Cavarero, Relating Narratives 58–59). In addition, women have often been reduced to what they are, while who they are has been neglected in hurtful ways (58, 61). Consequently, exposing the narratable selves of female characters and portraying them as unique beings in contrast to someone’s daughter, wife, mistress, and so forth has an emancipatory drive, which concerns both questions of identity and the status of being a full human being and worthy citizen.
The narratable self – “as the house of uniqueness” – is connected to the specific life story of an individual (33–36). Consequently, the who of a person is an experiencing being who activates emotions and bodily actions and reactions
1 At Home in Europe
Leffler’s play Elfvan depicts the first erotic experience of a young girl. The seventeen-year-old protagonist Elf is married to the mayor of a small Swedish town but finds it difficult to adapt to the demands of being a proper wife and the bourgeois social life of the small town. On one of her daily walks in the woods she meets a baron, who has a shady reputation among the bourgeois community. In the second act of the play, she sits as a model for one of his paintings at his castle far outside the limits of the small town. Elf almost succumbs to the baron’s attempt to seduce her but escapes his embrace and hurriedly leaves in a sleigh into the roaring snowstorm. After an adventurous ride she reaches her home and is reconciled with her husband. The play strongly opposes women’s marital confinement but also the convention of middle-aged men marrying young women who are not in any sense mature enough for marriage.
Before ending up in the small town with the mayor, Elf has travelled Europe together with her musician father. In the first act she fails to entertain at a social get-together that her husband and mother-in-law have arranged for some women among the bourgeoisie of the town, because of the constant misunderstandings between her and the guests. Elf’s experiences are those of a European cosmopolitan who knows about the cultures of foreign countries, and they clash with the environment of the small Swedish town. When, for example, Elf says that the mayor’s house with its sealed windows in the autumns and winters feels like a prison, her mother-in-law immediately thinks that she is showing discontent with her and her son, and Elf has to explain that she is just complaining about the Swedish weather. She tries to entertain by singing an Italian song, but her audience asks for a Swedish one. The experiences that
The confinement of the Swedish town concerns matters of intimacy. Elf is clearly pictured as a young girl who is about to enter womanhood in the sense of discovering her own sexuality. She is unaware of what she is going through but has a strange worrying feeling “as if everything is coming to an end” (Leffler 66).1 Her process of maturing happens in the crossfire of a morally uptight environment and the baron’s seductive attempts, which allure and at the same time frighten her. Sexuality clearly is an area of conflict for the protagonist, as it was for most nineteenth-century young Swedish female readers or theatregoers, and thus a sensitive topic to handle for dramatists, in particular, for a woman playwright (Johansson Lindh, Som en vildfågel 21–22). In the article “Fri kärlek – för vem?” [Free love – for whom?] Sandra Grehn attends to the construction of the idea of free love in Frida Stéenhoff’s play Lejonets unge [The lion’s cub; 1896]. She shows that love detached from marriage is carried out via Saga, the main character, who is pictured as a young European woman and thereby distanced from the Swedish bourgeoisie. By making Saga’s position as “The Other” part of the construction of free love, bourgeois feminine respectability is not threatened, and at the same time the connection between marriage and love is questioned (35, 42, 53). By picturing Elf as an outsider to the bourgeois community of the small town, brought up at places in Europe by a bohemian father out of reach of proper Swedish bourgeois norms, Elf’s breach of the norms of decency can be explained and forgiven. Elf can be looked upon as a homeless child that has finally come home, by the fictive bourgeois community and likewise by the reader or theatregoer. In that way she is made compatible with the moral codes of a conservative bourgeoisie and appropriate on the stages of Scandinavian high-prestige theatres.
elf:Alas! If you just could see Italy!the doctor’s wife:Italy! I dare say! A country without religion and morals!malvina:Yes, there are so many bandits that you risk being shot in the middle of the day.elf:But what beautiful, handsome bandits! You could not help falling in love with them! (a stir among the ladies).2 (Leffler 30)
In this scene bourgeois decency is clearly connected to nation. What cannot be accommodated within the borders of the Swedish town is expelled to a Mediterranean country with a milder climate. Leffler makes use of ideas about Italy that were quite common in Swedish nineteenth-century literature and the dramatic arts. In romantic Gothic fiction Italy was represented as a dark and dangerous country inhabited by remorseless villains. In particular, the picture of Italy as a mysterious, terrifying place in Ann Radcliffe’s early nineteenth-century Gothic novels influenced many generations of Nordic readers, which is reflected in the lines of the Doctor’s wife and Malvina in the quotation above. Licentious passions in fictive Italian environments furthermore held an attraction for readers, and for authors they offered an opportunity to express what could not be explicitly spelled out in times when chastity and decency were celebrated (Lewan 18–19, 20–24). In Elfvan Italy is a fantasy space representing intimacy as an area squeezed between bourgeois norms of decency and the yearning for sensualism and passion. Elf’s account of Italy demonstrates that the young protagonist embraces sensuality but also her innocent unawareness of the strict demands of female chastity and decency, denying her,
In a scene of reconciliation at the end of the play, though, Elf’s husband has realized that Elf must mature into a grown-up woman before she can “enjoy the greatest happiness of life, that of belonging to the man she loves without any guilt and remorse” (Leffler 100).4 He entrusts Elf to the care of his mother, who at Elf’s request promises to treat her as her own child. Hence, the play ends with a promise that Elf’s childhood paradise can be reconstructed in a loving marriage in the future and that the mayor’s house will turn into her true home.
2 The Rural Idyll as the Space of a New Sociability
In Alfhild Agrell’s play Ensam the main character is Thora, who has given birth to a child out of wedlock. She lives on the outskirts of Stockholm in a nice neat little yellow house in a lovely garden, together with her daughter Yngva. Yngva has fallen in love with Allan, the adoptive son of Mr Eksköld, a wealthy aristocrat. When Eksköld finds out that Yngva is an illegitimate child, he says no to Allan’s request to marry her. The only way this can happen is for Thora to marry Eksköld’s cousin, the biological father of Yngva. Thora refuses. She pleads her rights as a human being over being a mother.5 The play questions the unfair judgements of men’s and women’s moral mistakes.
In Ensam there is no lost Garden of Eden for Thora to look back to, as she has matured and looks back to her love of Yngva’s father as a mistake of youth. She has created such a space for herself and her daughter, though, in their little house and garden, which is represented as a rural idyll of love and care on the outskirts of the adjacent city. Yngva wants to revenge herself on the city people who shame her because of her status as an illegitimate child, by getting “rich
In Agrell’s play, the European city outside the Scandinavian borders is pictured as the refuge for Swedes who have been forced to leave their country to escape the law and the judgement of their bourgeois social circles at home. Yngva’s father, the unscrupulous married man who made promises to Thora when she was young, has been exiled in Berlin “for many years, yes, since long before he was widowed” (Agrell 95).9 He had an “unpleasant experience” at his regiment, gambled “a bit too wildly” and was finally forced to resign to protect
In Judith Butler’s terminology, Yngva serves as an abject, which helps maintain the prevailing social order of the city. The shaming of her is part of an exclusionary matrix that maintains the limit of the discourse and forces social subjects to stay within those limits (Butler 39–41). Thora, on the other hand, turned her back on society when she was excluded. According to Lynda Nead, nineteenth-century society differentiated between two kinds of non-respectable women, the prostitute and the fallen woman. The latter came from the respectable middle class but had lost control of her chastity by being seduced. Nead points out that, to a certain extent, the fallen woman could restore her damaged position by presenting herself as the innocent, powerless victim (Nead 95–96, 101). Thora has refused to do so. Instead, she has made her house of exile the space of alternative norms of female decency and conscience. Decency is depicted as a matter between herself and God, and she restores herself by her good acts and decent living. Consequently, she refuses to be a victim of shaming and refuses to take part in maintaining the limits of the patriarchal bourgeois space of the city. Her yellow house is the dwelling of resistance. Within its space, female decency is moved from bodily chastity, which is passive to the mind, to active deeds in relation to other human beings. Thus, Thora’s home accommodates new norms of femininity which can serve as the foundation for a sociability of relational subjects.
3
In Victoria Benedictsson’s play Final, the protagonist is Betty Bruhn, a beautiful woman who is no longer young, who is married to a wealthy and successful man. She is ill and depressed and cannot play the role as his entertaining beauty at their social gatherings any more. She finds her life empty and stops masquerading as the ingénue type that her husband wants her to be. Mr Bruhn is appalled and asks her to get her act together. The situation changes radically and suddenly in a melodramatic manner when Mr Bruhn’s embezzlement to finance their extravagant living is revealed. Betty tries to convince her husband to leave Sweden together with young Saima to escape the law, as she believes that they love each other. But in the end, Saima lets Mr Bruhn down. Betty stays by her husband when the police enter their home to arrest him. Betty proves to be loving, strong, and loyal, which her husband finally appreciates. Stripped of their social costumes and exposed to each other as vulnerable human beings, genuine love between the spouses has a chance to grow.
In Benedictsson’s play, there is no place that represents a true home for the protagonist. Certainly, the drawing rooms in which Betty and her husband have their parties and Betty’s private room are contrasted with each other, but the drawing rooms are where Betty plays her role as ingénue, and in her private room her depression and tiredness are revealed. The drawing rooms constitute a space ruled by the unnatural demands of bourgeois social life, and Betty’s private rooms the space of revelation of their damaging effects. They are two sides of the same coin. When the conditions of genuine mutual love between husband and wife finally have been reached, it is too late. Betty is ill and her husband is going to prison. Neither do Europe and a life in exile outside of the Swedish border offer any hope as the space for freedom and love.
In Final two kinds of love are contrasted with each other. Betty wants her husband to appreciate who she is under the mask she wears as his young beauty. She makes herself vulnerable by revealing her ageing, illness, and depressive state to him. When her husband’s crime is disclosed, she never blames him. Instead, she supports him. She exposes her frailty and looks at her husband’s vulnerability with a caring eye, instead of evaluating his qualities. In Cavarero’s terminology, for Betty such mutual exposure and acceptance of two unique narratable selves are the foundation of love. Who she and her husband are to each other, rather than what they are or what they have is what matters (Cavarero, Relating Narratives 35, 60). Saima represents a different idea of love. She describes it as the sensation of dizziness in anticipation of a storm and an
You would be arrested and I would be left alone in a foreign country, without money and forever expelled from the world to which I belong. Stigmatized and put to shame, I would have to hide wherever I could. I would be remembered with pitying ridicule and be talked about with virtuous mockery. No, Hugo – I have already gone further than what is wise to do.13
benedictsson 123
If Mr Bruhn falls, Saima will helplessly go down with him, as she would be dependent on his money and reputation. A life in Europe would not give Saima the freedom that it affords to Mr Bruhn. It would give her a risky dependence on one person only, as Mr Bruhn has the exclusive agency to establish their new life abroad. Europe does not provide a space in which Saima’s passionate love can be fully expressed, because she does not have the financial and social space of movement. Status as an independent individual and citizen with full legal and economic rights appears as the structural and material condition for the freedom to experience Saima’s kind of love. With a point of departure in the social position of a bourgeois woman, the concept of freedom conceived of as individual autonomy proves to be false. The freedom that a life in Europe can offer requires relations and dependence on other people even for a man,
In Final there is neither place nor space for the intimate love between two narratable selves that Betty Bruhn yearns for, nor for Saima to experience the passionate language of the body. In the sense of a home being a space for the individual to express her true self and to have her yearnings fulfilled, both Betty Bruhn and Saima stand out as two homeless women.
4 The Bourgeois Competition of the City and Its Utopian Alternatives
Criticism of the conservative bourgeoisie is the backbone of Elfvan, Ensam, and Final, as in most of the plays of the Scandinavian modern breakthrough. In the three plays by Agrell, Leffler, and Benedictsson, the representation of the Swedish town or city and places outside its borders contributes to constructing this criticism through the spatial construction. The city is represented as the space of superficial competition over money and social positions in which the female body is commodified, as is clearly expressed in Final. The drawing rooms of the house are decorated with items from Betty’s husband’s collection of art, and at the beginning of the play Betty is represented as one of his showpieces. Mona Domosh and Joni Seager, who mainly refer to American and British cities, state that the parlours of the homes were upper- and middle-class women’s principal spaces in the city in the late nineteenth century (88). In Elvan and Final the drawing rooms are spaces in-between the public life of the city and the private rooms of the domestic areas. They are semi-public spaces that are coded as male, in which the superficial competition over money and social positions of city life is played out. Hence, the traditional binary opposition of the domestic space as the domain of women and the public space of the city as male is deconstructed in these two plays and city life affords no space in which the female protagonists can feel at home (4).
Also, in Ensam the city is a space of destructive conquering. Furthermore, it is a domain in which female sexuality is regulated by shaming. Thora’s illegitimate daughter Yngva is the proof of female premarital sex, and the shaming of her is presented as a mechanism to keep this disturbing element out of the system. In Elfvan the violations of female decency by the naïve young protagonist’s openheartedness and her mobility outside of the city limits are disturbing elements. The plays thus show that the city is a space in which female decency requires a young wife to embody controlled behaviour, immobility,
In particular, Benedictsson’s Final demonstrates that it is a commercial discourse combined with the bourgeois system of norms of the Swedish city that results in the immobilization and commodification of the female body. Jon Stratton states that the cultural fetishism of the female body was intensified during the last decades of the nineteenth century due to men’s experience of the state’s extended exercise of power and to changed patterns of consumption (Stratton 16, 25, 49). Final and also Agrell’s Ensam show that loyal inhabitants of the space of the Swedish city take part in the consumerist culture by asking what a person is, or rather what s/he has to put into the competition for wealth and social positions in which women’s decency provides a marketable currency. The plays highlight that this order contaminates human relationships and prevents honest, genuine, and profound intimate connections; in particular, it affects love in heteronormative relationships. Precisely this is what makes the female protagonists of the plays homeless in the sense of lacking space and freedom to fully express their intimate capacities and needs as unique narratable selves (Cavarero, Relating Narratives 35, 60).
Representations of places outside of the Swedish city help construct alternatives to the Swedish bourgeois system of norms. Europe outside of the Scandinavian borders is depicted as the space of behaviour that cannot be tolerated within the national borders. Europe is a gendered space. In Ensam Europe is the domain of deportation of men who threaten the bourgeois conceptions of male honour by financial irresponsibility, but it also offers men the possibility to start anew, far away from the judging eyes of the bourgeois circles of the Swedish city. Berlin as the exile for male immorality is contrasted with the melodramatic cliché of a rural haven of female neatness, industriousness, love, and care. The ethical decency of Thora’s idyll is situated within the Swedish borders, actually on the city limits of the Swedish capital city. No matter how decency is defined, in accordance with the patriarchal bourgeois norms or with Thora’s domain of relational subjectivity, it stays within the Swedish borders. In contrast, Elfvan represents Europe as a female space and as the true home of the protagonist. Italy, in particular, represents the beauty,
In Elfvan, Italy is exotically represented through the eyes of a young girl via intertextual references to Gothic literature and romances. The protagonist’s lost childhood paradise expresses the kind of love that she longs for, but is not yet ready for and which is denied by the hostile bourgeois environment. Quite differently, in Final Europe is represented as a realistic realm for sensual love and sexual attraction, although not an attainable option for a woman. Anne McClintock states that as a representative of continuity woman is a bearer of nation but lacks national agency. Her political relation to the nation is submerged in a social relation to a man through marriage (411, 412). Final shows that this affects women’s opportunities outside the borders of the nation as well. The unmarried Saima in Final lacks the political, economic, and legal agency of a full citizen of the state and is therefore also without agency to start anew abroad on her own. As a symbolic bearer she is the captive of a national space that does not truly belong to her. In McClintock’s words, her situation demonstrates that “women are subsumed symbolically into the national body politic as its boundary and metaphoric limit” (410).
Final, with its destructive city life and the impossibility of exile in Europe, lacks the melodramatic contrast to a Garden of Eden. Consequently, it lacks a promise that the female characters Betty and Saima ever will experience true homes. Benedictsson has confined herself to pointing out the conditions for such homes, namely, in Betty’s case, a changed relationship between husband and wife, freed of the social conventions of the city bourgeoisie, and for Saima, the rights of economic, legal, and social independence. Elfvan ends with the promise that Elf’s childhood paradise will be created anew in her marriage as her husband recognizes Elf’s right to love on her own conditions. In Ensam the melodramatic contrast of spaces makes clear that such a utopian home demands a new ethical sociability of the kind that Adriana Cavarero refers to as one of relational subjects. The liberating direction of Benedictsson’s play is freedom from a destructive system, while in Leffler’s and Agrell’s plays it is a freedom to create a better system.
Through the melodramatic mimesis, Agrell and Leffler can dramatize what Benedictsson cannot with the sceptical realism of Final, namely, the foundational laws of an alternative space to the one shaped by bourgeois norms of decency and marriage of convenience. Toril Moi has found that the transition from the good everyday to the bad everyday is the great difference between Henrik Ibsen’s early modern-breakthrough plays and his late plays. In his last five plays he investigates the various ways in which human life can become frozen, static, immobile, and meaningless. Emptiness and immobility are
“som om det vore slut med allting.” All translations of quotations in this chapter are mine.
Doktorinnan:Italien Jag får verkligen säga! Ett land utan religion och moral!.malvina:Ja, där finns ju så mycket banditer, att man riskerar att bli skjuten midt på dagen.elfvan:Men du kan inte tro hvilka vackra, ståtliga banditer! Ja, du skulle inte kunna låta bli att förälska dig i dem! (Uppståndelse bland damerna)”.
“kolibri i en hönsgård.”
“njuta lifvets högsta lycka – att få tillhöra den man, hon älskar med rent samvete och utan bittra minnen”.
Ensam is a paraphrase of Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter (1850). Thora has refused to be ashamed of her situation and has made her daughter her scarlet letter to the world.
“rik och förnäm, att få herska och se ned på dem som de sett ned på mig!”
“som värmande och skyddande”.
“verlden”.
“sedan flera år, ja, långt innan han blef enkling,”.
“litet obehag”, “litet för vildt”.
“spelat bort sin hustrus förmögenhet, pinat henne till döds med sina utsväfvningar, nödgats lemna sitt regemente.”
“något öfverväldigande skönt”.
“Dig skulle man anhålla, och jag skulle stå ensam i främmande land, utan medel, och för alltid utstött ur den värld, där jag är hemma. Brännmärkt och utskämd, skulle jag få gömma mig hvar jag kunde. Man skulle minnas mig med ett medlidsamt löje och tala om mig med dygdesamt hån. Nej Hugo – jag har redan gått längre än vad som var klokt.”
Toril Moi draws the line between Ibsen’s early modernist plays and his late ones between The Lady from the Sea (1888) and Hedda Gabler (1890).
Works Cited
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McClintock, Anne. “No Longer in a Future Heaven: Gender, Race and Nationalism”. Space, Gender, Knowledge: Feminist Readings. Ed. Linda McDowell and Joanne P. Sharp. Edward Arnold, 1997, 409–425.
McDowell, Linda, and Joanne P. Sharp (eds). Space, Gender, Knowledge: Feminist Readings. Edward Arnold, 1997.
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