Rating: The Secret Life of Bees

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Secret Bees

The Secret Life of Bees 

Sue Monk Kidd

Penguin Books, 2002

B-

A bit heavy-handed on the whole bee/queen/mother analysis. (Which I almost feel bad bringing up again, because I’m sure Kidd took a lot of time finding each of those quotes, but I stand by my issues.) This heavy-handedness can be applied in other various areas, but overall the writing is somewhat solid.

If this was a man’s world, a veil took the rough beard right off it. Everything appeared softer, nicer.

~The Secret Life of Bees, p. 92-3

 

The Empathy of Love

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Secret BeesTo start, I cried. A lot.

This really doesn’t mean much, I cry a lot when I’m reading. It’s kinda my thing. A thing I used to be really ashamed of, and was made fun of too. Even as late in life as today (and I’m almost 32).

But I think that’s one of the reasons I’m on this endeavour this year. Not because I cry, but because of why I am ashamed of my crying at books. Hang in here for a moment, and think about it:

We live in a predominantly male-centric world. And I was born in the early 80s before it became “cool” to gender bend and connect to our masculine and/or feminine natures. So to be sensible enough to cry because of a book was shameful. Society taught me that. And yet I still did. But I hid it. I would stay up late to finish a book so I wouldn’t cry during class (like with my fifth grade reading of Where the Red Fern Grows). But by 2010, when I was ashamed to cry at the end of Edith Wharton’s The House of Mirth I shouldn’t have been. I should have known better. And more over, my friends shouldn’t have made fun of my empathy towards Lily Bart and Lawrence Sheldon. Of course, they’d probably tell you it was because it was me crying, not because someone was crying at literature. But I don’t believe that.

But back to what I was saying. Crying is seen as weak and feminine within the masculine, and even if we are taught to be strong, independent women what becomes defined as that type of woman? Women who demonstrate similar “strong” traits of their male counter-parts. There’s a lot of theory on this, that I won’t go into here. But what is wrong with this image? Perhaps that crying doesn’t show weakness if we are crying because we empathize with another. Instead it is that strong connection that we can make with another — even a fictional other — that makes us strong and understanding individuals. Isn’t that what the world needs more of: connection with our fellow humans?

And perhaps that’s what this year is all about, to learn to embrace the parts of womanhood that I have grown to learn to hide. To realize that we need more woman (and people in general) like August, May, and June Boatwright and Lily Owens and the Daughters of Mary, who see the injustices of the world and do their own part to stay strong, understanding, and empathatic. But at the same time understanding that such a connection can only come through love. As August reminds Lily towards the end of Kidd’s novel:

Lily, that’s the only purpose grand enough for a human life. Not just to love — but to persist in love.

~The Secret Life of Bees, p. 289

This is a story of mothers, literally and figuratively. The mothers we are given, the mothers we find, the mothers we become, and the divine mothers that watch over us and help show us the empathy of love from before we are even born. And from that persisting love, if given purely, is the strongest of character.

Bee Symbolism

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Secret BeesI can remember having a discussion about the bee motif of Sue Monk Kidd’s novel, The Secret Life of Bees, with my mother years ago after watching the movie. My mother had read the book, I had not; we had both just finished the film for the first time. My mother was disappointed, I wasn’t. She was primarily disappointed in how the film incorporated the element of the bees, stating something to the effect that the bees were an intricate telling of the story in Kidd’s novel, but appeared as more of an afterthought in the film. Not having read the novel, I could not comment.

While not finished with the novel, I feel I can now comment:

It is obvious, from the opening lines, what Kidd is attempting to do with the bees: Provide a symbolic reinterpretation of Lily Owen’s life via a fact-like presentations of bees, that becomes a very thin veil for her actual discussion: the importance of matriarchy. Consider the opening:

The queen, for her part, is the unifying force of the community; if she is removed from her hive, the workers very quickly sense her absence. After a few hours, or even less, they show unmistakable signs of queenlessness. 

-Man and Insects

The Secret Life of Bees, ch. 1

Chapter one, with the guided map of bees, demonstrates Lily’s own sense of “queenlessness.” Within this chapter Kidd presents why Lily is queenless, and how the primary female character in her life, Rosaleen the black maid, cannot fill a sense of queendom for Lily. Furthermore, the quote implies that Lily, like the bee community, will attempt to find a queen.

I can easily see why my mother preferred this to the film, where the study of bees is a minor backdrop to the overall story. However, I am finding the discussion at the beginning of each chapter to be rather heavy handed. However, I have to question if this is heavy handed because of my literary background and education, or if it is just heavy handed. I suppose it’s a bit of both, but I am finding that it’s a bit of a turn-off to me, in that I don’t care for the mapping of chapters before I read them. And yet, I am distinctly aware of the need to incorporate the bees.

Bees, as Kidd continually draws, are a matriarchal society. At the beginning of chapter four, the chapter that Lily and Rosaleen find the Boatwright home and are given refuge, informs readers to the female-centric aspect of bee colonies. The opening of the chapter quotes from Bees of the World, and discusses the gendered grouping and mating aspects of bees:

Each colony is a family unit, comprising a single, egg-laying female or queen and her many sterile daughters called workers. […] Males are reared only at the times of year when their presence is required.

~The Secret Life of Bees, ch. 4

In blatant alignment to the bees, Lily has stumbled upon a strictly matriarchal home. This is not to say there are no men, only that men are only present in moments when their presence is required. And the men that are present are so in a fleeting nature that is determined by the Boatwright women.

Moreover, Kidd makes the connection within her story almost flawlessly, making the chapter introductions seem novice and overkill. Consider one of the times August takes Lily out to the beehives after the major honey push. As the bees begin to swarm them, Lily feels unusually close to the bees who have surrounded her. In an out of body experience she feels as if she is one with the bees, swirling and moving with them. But just as quickly she is reminded of her past, her outsider position amongst the bees, and the Boatwrights:

[…] I felt the hallow, spooned-out space between my navel and breastbone begin to ache. The motherless place. […] But here, non, surrounded by stinging bees on all sides and the motherless place throbbing away […] It felt like the queen’s attendants were out here in a frenzy of love, caressing me in a thousand places. Look who’s here, it’s Lily. She is so weary and lost. Come on, bee sisters. I was the stamen in the middle of a twirling flower. The center of all their comforting.

~The Secret Life of Bees, p. 150-1

Even without the heavy handed chapter introduction, in this case explaining how a bee without her sisters will soon die, the importance of Lily finding and connecting to other women through the symbolism of the bees is apparent. I would even go as far to say well constructed. Lily has discovered during her time at the Boatwrights’ house the importance of sisterhood. Or more directly, the distinct and all encompassing role women have within their own community that cannot be duplicated outside of the realm of woman.

I like this notion. It’s one of the primarily reasons I chose Kidd’s novel as my first. What is it like to have women in charge? Does it change the feel of the novel? Of the themes presented? I think it works well — not the bees, but the demonstration of the matriarchy. Lily, who knows nothing of bees — or women, since the bees are representative of women — must learn, alongside readers, what matriarchy means. However, I wish it could have been done without the cover of bees.

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Secret BeesI opened my mouth. I wanted something. Something, I didn’t know what. Mother, forgive. That’s all I could feel. That old longing spread under me like a great lap, holding me tight.

The Secret Life of Bees, p. 55

And so I begin…

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The weight of choosing my first book in this endeavour has left me feeling a bit traumatized. So much seems to rest on what type of book should be the first. Even more on which book I actually choose. It is, after all, the precedent from which the entire year will unfold. But which book?

I’ve asked lots of people to list out the books they think I should consider reading: facebook friends, old college buddies, the other adjuncts in my office, professors, colleagues, family, even my current students. The list is still growing, and everyone (save one) has been very supportive in helping the list grow. And yet looking at the list is daunting. Picking the one to start with sickening.

So I started to write a list of the books I have already read by women with female protagonists. This has helped. First, there are more on the list than I had originally thought.  Second, I don’t feel quite as lost as I had when I original thought of this project. Finally, after reading over the list and remembering what I enjoyed about each of the books I listed, I found that I had a better idea of what type of book I wanted to start with, and where I saw the project going in the immediate future.

I decided that I wanted to start with some fiction. I’m most comfortable with fiction writing for a plethora of reasons. I also determined that I want a text that really personifies how I see this project. A book that demonstrates a feeling of alienation that is overcome through a sisterhood (a term I am currently uncomfortable with, and hope to redefine, or even find a new term completely by the end of all this) that brings with it a sense of identity and belonging. But which book?

After hours and hours of thinking it over, I finally just went to the bookstore and just started looking. Obviously this isn’t the easiest of ways to go about it: it’s not like the bookstore rearranges and divides books by the gender of the author. But I had the list from my supporters. I pulled almost every book they suggested, read the blurb, read the first page, and slowly eliminated the stack, to one text:

The Secret Life of Bees

by

Sue Monk Kidd

To be honest, I saw the movie years ago. So I already had a sense of what it is about, but it was the back cover that sold me:

This is a remarkable novel about divine female power, a story that women will share and pass on to their daughters for years to come.

The divine female power. Isn’t that what I am hoping to find as I read these novels, autobiographies, poems, and collections? And so I begin…

Where I’ve Been…

Aside

A background of the books by women with female protagonists that I’ve already read. This list is in no way extensive, or in any particular order. But I want a sense of where I’m coming from in starting this endeavour. And what better what then to determine where I have been in order to seek out where I might go? I’ll be adding to this as I think of different books, however, I won’t be adding the books I read for the project here — they’ll have their own place.

  • Little Women * Louisa May Alcott
  • Jane Eyre * Charlotte Brontë
  • Jane Austen (all of them)
  • Woman Warrior * Maxine Hong Kingston
  • Comfort Woman * Nora Ojka Keller
  • Speak * Laurie Halse Anderson
  • Persepolis * Marjane Satrapi
  • To Kill a Mockingbird * Harper Lee
  • The Bell Jar * Sylvia Plath
  • A Room of One’s Own * Virginia Woolf
  • Mrs. Dalloway * Virginia Woolf
  • Sula *Toni Morrison
  • The House of Mirth * Edith Wharton
  • Play It As It Lays * Joan Didion
  • Delta Wedding * Eudora Welty
  • Bastard Out of Carolina * Dorothy Alison
  • Wide Sargasso Sea * Jean Rhys
  • The Awakening * Kate Chopin
  • The Feminine Mystique * Betty Friedan
  • The Lovely Bones * Alice Sebold
  • A Wrinkle in Time * Madeleine L’Engle
  • The Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankwieler * E. L. Konigsburg
  • The Handmaid’s Tale * Margaret Atwood
  • The Hunger Games trilogy * Suzanne Collins
  • The Second Sex * Simone de Beauvoir
  • Madwoman in the Attic * Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar
  • The Mill on the Floss * George Eliot (Maryann Evans)
  • A Little Princess * Frances Hodgson Burnett
  • The Secret Garden * Frances Hodgson Burnett
  • White Oleander * Janet Fitch
  • Brown Girl, Brownstones * Paule Marshall
  • Affinity * Sara Waters

A Running List…

Aside

Not in any particular order, here are the books that have been suggested to me to read. I’ll add more as the year goes on. (Note: I’m not including anything I’ve already read). Feel free to add to the list via comments, just remember the rules: Must be written by a woman with a woman as the primary protagonist!

Girl, Interrupted * Susan Kaysen
Go Ask Alice * Anonymous
The Help * Kathryn Stockett
The Secret Life of Bees * Sue Monk Kid
The Poisonwood Bible * Barbara Kingsolver
Gone with the Wind * Margaret Mitchell
The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight * Jennifer E. Smith
Ahab’s Wife * Sena Jeter Naslund
How the Garcia Girls Lost their Accents * Julia Alvarez
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings * Maya Angelou
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn *  Betty Smith
The Pilot’s Wife * Anita Shreve
The Tiger’s Wife * Téa Obreht
Ophelia * Lisa M. Klein
Cheerful Weather for the Wedding * Julia Strachey
Island Beneath the Sea * Isabel Allende
How to Build a Girl * Caitlin Moran
Their Eyes were Watching God * Zora Neal Hurston
The Elegance of the Hedgehog * Mureil Barbery
The Bay of Angels * Anita Brookner
The Opposite of Loneliness * Marina Keegan
A Girl Named Zippy * Haven Kimmel
Someday, Someday, Maybe * Lauren Graham
All Over the Map * Laura Fraser
My Salinger Year * Joanna Rakoff
The Ice Cream Queen of Orchard Street * Susan Jane Gilman
Stern Men * Elizabeth Gilbert
The Signature of All Things * Elizabeth Gilbert
Brown Girl in the Ring * Nalo Hopkinson
Sunishine * Robin McKinley
Storykiller * Kelly Thompson
The Girl Who Would be King * Kelly Thompson
We Have Always Lived in the Castle * Shirley Jackson
The Daughters of Danaus * Mona Caird
The Hero and the Crown * Robin McKinley
Boy, Snow, Bird * Helen Oyeyemi
Lumberjanes * Noelle Stevenson
Travel Light * Naomi Mitchison
Everything Leads to You * Nina LaCour
The Diviners * Libba Bray
You’re Never Weird on the Internet * Felicia Day
Wild * Chryl Strayed
Mama Day * Gloria Naylor
The Inheritance of Loss * Kiran Desai
Fun Home * Alison Bechdel
Dietland * Sarai Walker

How It All Began

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A couple of weeks ago I read this article. And it made me think some. First off I started thinking about all of my favorite books. As I ticked them off in my head, I realized that of my top ten only one was written by a woman and about a woman. One.

I thought about that fact and reread Perkins‘ article. I had never thought of limiting what I read — well outside of the college classroom, where reading is often limited to a specific type of writing. And what I determined was Perkins hadn’t limited herself enough. If the object of a year of women’s writing was to understand womanhood through the constructions of women, then shouldn’t those constructs be limited to the constructed female mindset?

Why should I try to understand the female condition if I’m reading constructions of men written by women? That would give me no better understanding of being female that the female constructs men have written — constructions I often love, but realized once I began thinking about the whole thing always left me a little wanting….I’m looking at you Thomas Hardy!

I’m not suggesting that we cannot learn about what it means to be “woman” through the eyes of men or the construct of the “male” mind by women, only that there might be something to gain from eliminating those constructions. Something that is wholly woman. Something as indefinite and perplexing as my own concept of myself. Just something more.

With this in mind, for the next year — or so — I’m going to only read texts by women about women. I’m not sure what I expect to gain from this, if anything. But I’m going to chronicle it here. Book by book, for love or for hate, each step. I hope that when the year is up I can look back and see, or at least sense, a progression of change.