Reckoning between the saintly and the monstrous
NATALIE CARNES
Virgin and Child with St Anne by Leonardo da Vinci. Public Domain. Via Wikimedia Commons.
In the last several years, there has been a surge in writing by women pondering the metamorphosis into mothers. Motherhood is a strange passage that leaves many women wondering how their new, maternal identity sits with their other identities—as lover, maker, reader, athlete, friend, and, especially, writer. Most women at least some of the time experience these roles in tension with one another, and writing mothers have been probing that tension, asking what part of it speaks to the social conditions of motherhood in our world today and what part taps into something deeper and more intractable about motherhood.
The mystery of the tension is one aspect of the strangeness of the passage to motherhood. Another is coming to inhabit such an outsized figure in the cultural imagination—and one outsized in ways that are not always positive. There is a moment in season 2 of that font of earthly wisdom, The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, when Kimmy finally realizes that the cause of her anger is her mother’s neglect, and Tina Fey’s therapist confirms her realization, saying, “It’s always the parents.” And most of the time, it’s the mother.
The insight is comical because it speaks a cultural truth. In pop psychology, the mother is the monster behind every malady, the villain lurking in our subconscious. Hers is the reproachful voice that we are not good enough, pretty enough, or thin enough. Insecure attachments to the mother explain the inability to form healthy relationships throughout one’s life. Her emotional comportment puts us at-risk for anxiety, depression, self-harm, and other-harm. It’s always the mother.
When I first watched that episode of Kimmy Schmidt, I thought, somewhat improbably, of a story a teacher told me years ago in a class on ancient Greek theologians. Two monks hiked through the mountains. The older, an abbot, trotted across the craggy precipices with the agility of a mountain goat as the young novice followed behind him. Taught to bring every troubling thought before the abbot, the novice confessed to his mentor, “Father, I have just had the thought that I should push you off this cliff.” The abbot continued spryly along as he replied, “Oh, pay no attention to that thought. That’s just the devil.”
And yet, besides babies, is there any group more sentimentalized than mothers? As Mother’s Day approaches, that sentimentality is on full commercial display.