CHAPTER VII
The Housewife And Her Husband
The husband differs from the wife in this fundamental,—that essentially he is not a house man as she is a house woman. For the man the home is the place where he houses his family and where he rests at night. Here also he spends his leisure time in amount varying with his domesticity. Man writes songs and books about the home, but the woman lives there. Perhaps that is why women have not written sentimental verse about it.
Marriage is variously regarded. "It is a sacrament, a religious sanction, and not to be dissolved by anything but Death." So say a very large group of our people. "It is a contract, governed by law, entered into under certain conditions and to be dissolved only by law." This is the attitude of practically all the governments of the world and rapidly is becoming the dominant point of view. Though the religious combat this conception of marriage, no marriage is legal on religious sanction alone, and the increase of divorce among those claiming to be Catholics is an undisputed fact.
It is only in the last century that the contract side of marriage has been emphasized and become dominant. There has resulted a conflict between the sacramental, sacred point of view and the secular. This conflict, like all other social conflicts, is a part of the inner life of most of the men and women of this generation, influencing their attitude toward marriage, the home, the mate.
For when we say a thing is part of the "spirit of the times" we mean merely that arising as a development of, or a change from, old ideas in the minds of leaders, it has become propagated among the mass. It has become part of their thought, incentive to their action, source of their energies.
Thus sentiment and religion proclaim the sacredness of marriage, its eternal nature, its indissolubility. The law asserts it to be a civil relationship, to be made or unmade by law itself; experience teaches that if it is sacred, then sacredness includes folly, indiscretion, brutality, and crime. Therefore the marriage relationship has become a source of conflict for our times, with opposing champions shouting out their point of view, with books, the movies, the press, the stage, with daily experience adducing cases. The scene of conflict is in the moods and emotions of all of us.
This divided view is particularly the attitude of women and becomes part of the neurosis of the housewife.
After all a woman does not marry an institution; she marries a man with whom she lives, sharing his life. In the natural course of events she becomes the mother of the children to whom he is father. We may dismiss as nonimportant the occasional freak marriage where a man and woman live apart, have no children and meet occasionally,—for obvious purposes. Such a marriage is not only sterile biologically, not only empty of the virtues of marriage, but encounters none of its difficulties.
This intimate individual relationship makes marriage when complete and successful the happiest human experience. Soberly speaking, it is then the flower of existence, satisfying biologically and humanly, giving peace and satisfaction to body and mind. This is the ideal, the "happy ending" at which most romances, novels, plays, and all the daydreams of youth leave us. Warm, cozy, intense domesticity, where passion is legitimate and love and friendship eternal; where children play around the hearth fire; of which death only is the ending!
This ideal is not realized largely because no ideal is. How often is it closely approximated? Experience says seldom. That implies no reproach against marriage, for we are to judge marriage by the rest of life and not by an ideal. A world in which great wars occur frequently, in which economic conflict is constant, in which sickness and disaster are never absent; where education is occasional, where reason has yet to rule in the larger policies and where folly occupies the high places,—why expect marriage to be more nearly perfect than the life of which it is a part? To be reasonably comfortable and happy in marriage is all we may expect.
What are the difficulties confronting the partners which impede happiness and especially which bring the neurosis of the housewife? For after all we can only examine the field for our own purpose.
We may divide the difficulties as follows from the standpoint of the neurosis of the housewife:
1. Those that arise from the sex relationship itself.
2. Those that arise from conflicts of will, purpose, ideas.
3. Those that arise from the types of husbands.
4. Those that arise from the types of wives. (This has already been considered under the heading Types Predisposed to the Neurosis.)
Before we go on to the consideration of these various factors we must repeat what has been emphasized frequently in this book.
That the change in the status of woman implies difficulty in the marriage relationship. If only one will is expected to be dominant in the household, the man's, then there can arise no conflict. If the form of the household is unaltered, but if the woman demands its control or expects equality, then conflict arises. If a woman expects a man to beat her at his pleasure, as has everywhere been the case and still is in some places, if she considers it just, brutality exists only in extremes of violence. If she considers a blow, or even a rough word, an unendurable insult, then brutality arises with the commonest disagreement. In other words, it is comparatively easy to deal with a woman expecting an inferior position, whose individual tastes, wills, ideas, and ideals have never been developed,—the ancient woman; it is very much more difficult to deal with her modern sister.
Happily the day is passing when prudery governed the discussion of sex. Lewdness exists in concealment, suggestion is more provocatory than frankness. The morbidness of men who condemned themselves to celibacy has influenced the world; their fear of sex led to a misguided silence shrouding the wrecks of many a life.
The sex relationship is the basis of marriage. The famous couplet of Rosalind still holds good. The sex instinct (or rather instincts, for coupled with sex-desire is love of beauty, admiration, joy of possession, triumph, etc.) has the unique place of being more regulated by law and custom than any other basic instinct. The law holds that no marriage is consummated until the sex act has taken place, regardless of the words of preacher or State official. The happiness of the first year or years of married life is mostly in its voluptuous bonds, for companionship and comradeship have really not yet arisen. Complementary to this it may be said that much of married misery, especially for the woman, arises from the first marital embrace.
This last is because of the ignorance of men and women, an ignorance wholly due to prudery. The majority of women have been chaste before marriage; the majority of men have not. One would expect therefore knowledge of men, the knowledge of experience. But the experience has been gained with women of a certain type and has not equipped the man to deal with his wife. Though most women know in advance what is expected of them, some are even ignorant of the most elemental facts of sex, and even those who know are unprepared for reality.
Too frequently the man regards himself as a Grand Seigneur with a paramount "Jus Primis Noctis." True, the majority of men are abashed in the presence of innocence and deal gently with it,—but others follow in a repellent way their instinct of possession. Any neurologist of experience has cases where sexual frigidity and neurasthenia in a woman can be traced back to the shock of that all-important first night.
There are savage races in which preparation for marriage is an elementary part of education. We need not follow them into absurdity, but more than the last silly whispered words to bride and groom at the ceremony is necessary. A formal antenuptial enlightenment, frank and expert, is needed by our civilization.
The sex appetite varies as widely as any other human character. Generally speaking, it is believed that sexual passion in women is more episodic than in men, often relating to the menstrual period. In many cases it does not develop as a conscious factor in the woman's life until after marriage, and sometimes not until the first child is born. Certainly desire in the girl is a more generalized, less local, less conscious excitement than it is in the boy who cannot misunderstand his feelings. I think it may safely be said that allowing for the freedom of boys and men, there is native to the male a more urgent passion than to the female. This would be biologically necessary, since upon him devolves not only courtship but the fundamental activity in the sexual act. A passionless woman may have sexual relation, a passionless man cannot.
The disparity in sex desire between a husband and wife may be slight or great. No statistics on the subject will ever be gathered, from the very nature of the facts, but it is safe to say that much more disparity exists than is suspected. And likewise it causes more trouble than is suspected. Where the virility of the mate is inadequate there breeds a subtle dissatisfaction that may corrode domestic happiness and bring about conflict on subjects quite remote from the real issue. Contrariwise, to have relations forced or coaxed on one where desire is lacking brings about disgust, nervous reactions, fatigue of marked nature.
A woman sexually well mated often clings beyond reason to an unworthy mate. Many an inexplicable marriage, many a fantastic loyalty of a good woman to a bad man has its origin where it is least expected, in the sex attachment. Demureness of appearance, refinement of manner, noble ideals are not at all inconsistent with powerful sex feeling. There is no reason why strong, well-controlled passion should be considered anything but a virtue, why the pleasure of the sexual field should, under the social restriction, be regarded as impure.
Too often the latter is the case. Fantastic puritanical ideas often govern both men and women. I have in mind several couples who desired to live continent until such time as children were desired. The biological reasons for the sexual relations seemed to them the only "pure" reasons. Needless to say the resolution broke down under the intimacy of one roof, but meanwhile a conflict was engendered that took some vigorous counsel to dissipate.
This purely occidental idea that sexual pleasure is somehow unworthy is responsible for a disparity of a further kind. There are parts of the physical side of love in which the majority of men need education, though in the well-adjusted married life the proper knowledge comes. Nature has not completely adjusted the sexes to one another; it is the part of the man to bring about that adjustment. This part of the adjustment need not here be detailed; the books of Havelock Ellis are explicit on the matter. Certainly no small share of the difficulties of our housewife result, for it is a law that excitement without gratification brings about nervous instability.
Whether or not the American domestic life is too intimate, too constant, is an important question. For the majority of people, after the first ecstasy of the bridal year, separate rooms might be better than a single chamber occupied together. There are people to whom one bed and one room is symbolic of their close unity, of their joined lives, who find comfort and companionship in the knowledge that their life partner sleeps beside them. Where sexual compatibility or adjustment exists, there is nothing but commendation for this arrangement. Where it does not exist, the separate chambers are better for obvious reasons.
A development of recent times is the rapidly increasing use of what are politely known as birth-control measures. This development is rapidly changing the number of births in the community to a figure below that necessary for the perpetuation of the race. We are not concerned here with the morality or immorality of these measures. Modern woman undoubtedly will continue to take the stand that childbearing should be voluntary, that involuntary motherhood is incompatible with her dignity and status as a person. In this, through the increasing cost of living as well as sympathy with her attitude, she will be backed by her husband. I predict without fear that Church and State will have to adjust themselves to this situation.
The fear of pregnancy has brought about this situation, that many a woman undergoes an agony of symptoms which is only relieved when her monthly function appears. This fear makes the sexual relationship a risk almost outweighing its pleasure. The notoriously "unsafe" character of the contraceptive measures has only diminished this fear, not completely allayed it.
Moreover the contraceptive measures, according to the law that every "solution" breeds new problems, have their place in causing nervousness. Rarely do these measures replace the natural act in satisfaction. Further, some are unable to conquer their repugnance and disgust and some are left excited and unsatisfied. Vasomotor disturbances, neurasthenic symptoms, obsessions, and hysterical phenomena occur in many women as well as in some men. One of the stock questions of the neurologists when examining a married man or woman complaining of neurasthenic symptoms relates to the contraceptive measures used. The channel of discharge of sexual excitement is race old. And this new development blocks that channel. For many persons this is sufficient to deënergize the organism.
At the present time there are two trends in the sex sphere, so far as women are concerned. There is the masculine trend, which is usually called feminism. Women tend to take up the work formerly exclusively belonging to men; they tend to dress more like men, with flat shoes, collars and ties, and tailor-made clothes. They take up the vices of men,—smoking, drinking,—are building up a club life, live in bachelor apartments, call each other by their last names, etc.
Whether with this goes a greater sexual license or not it is difficult to say. The observers best qualified to comment think there has been a decrease in female chastity,—that the entrance of women in industrial life, the growth of the cities, the increase in automobiles, the greater freedom of women, the dropping of restraint in manner and speech, have brought women's morals somewhat nearer to men's.
The other trend, not entirely separate except for externals, is marked by a hyper-sexuality, an emphasis of femaleness. This is by far the more common phenomenon and probably more widely spread through society. The dress of women in general is more daring, more designed for sex allurement than for a century past. Women paint and powder in a way that only the demimonde did a generation ago, reminding one of the ladies of the French Court in the eighteenth century. Further, the plays of the day would be called mere burlesque a generation back; the girl and music show has the center of the stage, and the drama in America has almost disappeared. There is an epidemic of magazines that flirt with the risqué; with titles that are sometimes much more clever than their contents.
Such eras have been with us before this, have come and gone. It is doubtful if they ever affected so large a number of people. The excitement of the daily life is increased in a sexual way, and this brings an unrest that reacts on the anchor of the home, the housewife. She too tugs at her moorings; life must be speeded up for her too as well as for the younger and unattached women. She becomes more dissatisfied and therefore more nervous.
Altogether the sexual relationship of modern marriage needs a candid examination. No drastic change is indicated, but education in sexual affairs for men and women is a need. Even the prudish admit the pleasure of the sex-life, and that seems to be their fundamental aversion to it. Most of the advice and injunctions in the past seem to have come from the sexually abnormal. It is time that this was changed; in fact, it is being changed. The danger lies in a swing to extremes, in leaving the fields to those who think reform lies in the abolition of restraint, in the disregard of all social supervision and obligation. Free love is more disastrous if possible than prudery.
CHAPTER VIII
The Housewife And Her Household Conflicts
The problems of life are not all sexual, and in fact even in the relations of men and women there are more important factors. After all, as Spencer pointed out in a marvelous chapter, love itself is a composite of many things, some, of the earth, earthy, and some of the finest stuff our human life holds. The aspirations, the ideals, the yearnings of the girl attach themselves to some man as their fulfillment; the chivalrous feelings, the desire to protect and cherish, the passion for beauty of the man lead to some girl as their goal. There are few for whom the glow and ardor of their young love bring no refinement of their passion; there are few who have not felt a pulsating unity with all that love and live, at least for some ecstatic moments. Something of what James has so beautifully designated as the "aura of infinity that hangs over a young girl" also lingers over the love of men and women.
All the cynics and epigram makers in the world agree that love ends with marriage, and this not only in modern times but even back into those days of the French Court of Love, when Margaret de Valois decided that the lover had more claims than the husband. Romance dies with marriage is the plaint of poet and novelists; the charm of woman disappears with her mystery, with possession. And the typical humorist speaks of the curl papers and kimono of the wife, the snores and unshaven beard of the husband. "Familiarity is the death of passion" is the theme of countless writers who bemoan its passing in the matrimonial state.
How much harm the romantic tales have done to marriage and the sober-satisfying everyday life, no one can estimate, no one can overestimate. Romanticism, which extols sex as the prime and only thing of life, prudery which closes its eyes to it and makes sour faces, need special places in Dante's Inferno. Neither has dealt with reality,—reality, which is satisfying and pleasant unless examined with the prejudices instilled by the hypersexual romance writer and the perverted sexuality of the prude.
Nevertheless that two people brought up entirely differently, and having different attitudes towards love and life, should come into sharp conflict is to be expected. Further, that disillusionment follows after the excitement and heightened expectation of courtship is inevitable. Marriage at the best includes a settlement to routine; it carries with it an adjustment to reality, a getting down to earth that is painful and disappointing to minds fed to expect thrill and passion with each moment.
The idealization of the mate—the man or woman—gives way to a gradually increasing knowledge of imperfection and common clay. Common sense, earnestness of purpose, willingness to adjust, and a sense of humor save the situation and change the love of the engaged period into a more solid, robust affection which gains in durability and wearing quality what it loses in intensity.
Unfortunately, in many cases to a great extent and in all to some extent, there arises dissension natural wherever two human beings meet on anything like equal terms.
In times past (and in many countries at the present time), the patriarchal household prevailed. The Head of the House was the father, a sovereign either stern or indulgent according to his nature. Perhaps his wife ruled him through his love for her, as women have ruled from the beginning of things, but if she did it was not by right but by privilege.
America has changed all that, so say all native and foreign observers. Here the woman rules; here she drags her husband after her like a tail to a kite; here she is mistress and he obeys, though nominally still head of the household. All the humorists emphasize this, and the novelist depicts it as the common situation. The husband is represented as yoked to the wheel of his wife's whims, tyrannized over by the one he works for.
This is surely a gross exaggeration, though it furnishes excellent material for satire. The man still makes the main conditions of life for both; his name is taken, his work sustains the household, his purse supplies the means of existence, his industrial business situation determines the residence, his social standing is theirs. This does not prevent him from being "henpecked" in many cases, but on the whole it assures his superior status.
Nevertheless it is true that the American woman of whatever origin has a will of her own as no other woman has. Since the expression of will is one of the chief sources of human pleasures, one of the chief, most persistent activities, man and wife enter into a contest for supremacy in the household. It may be settled quietly and without even recognizing its existence, on the common plan that the woman shall have charge of the home and the man of his business; it may rage with violence over the fundamental as well as the trivial things of home. After all, it is not the importance of a thing that determines the size of the row it may raise; men have killed each other over a nickel because defeat over even this trifle was intolerable.
What are the chief sources of conflict? For to name them all would be simply to name every possible source of difference of opinion that exists. Let us take as an example Extravagance.
This is a new development. In the former days the bulk of purchases was made by the husband, in whose hands the purse strings were tightly clutched. With the growth of the cities and industry, the development of the department store and rise of shopping as an institution, the man gave place to his wife largely because industry would not let him off during the daytime. So the housewife disbursed most of the funds of her home,—and there arose one of the fiercest and most persistent of domestic conflicts.
Despite the fact that most American husbands turn over their purses to their wives, they still regard the money as their own. The desire to "get ahead" is an insistent one, returning with redoubled force after each expenditure. He finds his entire income gone each week or month, or finds less left than he expected. "Where does it all go?" is his cry; "Must we spend as much as we do?" "How do people get along who get less than we do?"
To this his wife has the answer, "We must have this, and we must have that. We must live as our neighbors do."
Here is the keynote to the situation. There has been a democratization of society of this nature; there has been a spread throughout the community of aristocratic tastes. The woman of even the poor and the middle classes must have her spring and autumn suits, her dresses for summer, her summer and winter hats. Her husband too must change his clothes with each shift of the season. For this the enterprise of the clothing trade, the splendid display of the department stores are responsible, awakening desire and dissatisfaction.
While the man accuses the woman of extravagance, he is as guilty as she. He too spends money freely,—on his cigars and cigarettes, on every edition of the newspapers, on the shine which he might easily apply himself, on a thousand and one nickels that become a muckle. The American is lavish, hates to stint, detests being a "piker", says, "Oh, what's the difference; it will all be the same in a hundred years," but kicks himself mentally afterwards.
Meanwhile he quarrels with his wife, who really is extravagant. In this battle the man wins, even if he loses, for he rarely broods over the defeat. But it brings about a sense of tension in his wife; it brings about a disunion in her heart, because she wants to please her husband, and at the same time she wants to "keep up" with her neighbors and friends. And who sets the pace for her, for all of her group; who establishes the standard of expenditure? Not the thrifty, saving woman, not the one who mends her clothes and makes her own hats, but the extravagant woman, the rich woman perhaps of recently acquired wealth who cares little for a dollar. Against her better judgment the woman of the house enters a race with no ending and becomes intensely dissatisfied, while her husband becomes desperate over the bills.
This disunion in her spirit does what all such disunions do,—it predisposes her to a breakdown. It makes the housework harder; it makes the relations with her husband more difficult. It takes away pleasure and leaves discontent and doubt,—the mother-stuff of nervousness.
While most American husbands are generous, there are enough stingy ones to set off their neighbors. To these men the goal of life is the accumulation of money, as indeed it is with the majority. But to them that goal is to be reached by saving every penny, by denying themselves and theirs all expenditures beyond the necessities.
The woman who marries such a man is humiliated to the quick by his attitude. That a man values a dollar more than he does her wish is an insult to the sensitive woman. There ensues either a never-ending battle with estrangement, or else a beaten woman (for the stingy are stubborn) accepts her lot with a broken spirit, sad and deënergized. Or perhaps, it should be added, a third result may come about; the woman accepts the man's ideal of life and joins with him in their scrimping campaign. With this agreement life goes on happily enough.
It is not of course meant that all or a great majority of American women have difficulties with their husbands over money. But I have in mind several patients who would be happy if this never-ending problem were settled. The struggle "gets on the nerves" of the partners; they say things they regret and act with an impatience that has its root in fatigue.
This difficulty over money and its spending gets worse in the late thirties and early forties, for it is then the man realizes with a startled spirit that he is getting into middle age, that sickness and death are taking their toll of his friends, and that he has not got on. The sense of failure irritates him, depresses him. He finds that he and his wife look at the money situation from a different angle.
"If you loved me," says she, "you would see things a little more my way."
"If you loved me," says he, "you would not act to worry me so."
Here in the year 1920, the high cost of living is becoming the strain of life. Capital and Labor are at each other's throats; men cry "profiteer" at those whom good fortune and callous conscience have allowed to take advantage of the world crisis. The air is filled with the whispers that a crash is coming, though the theaters are crowded, the automobile manufacturers are burdened with orders, and the shops brazenly display the most gorgeous and extravagant gowns. That the marital happiness of the country is threatened by this I do not see recorded in any of the discussions on the subject. Yet this phase of the high cost of living is perhaps its most important result.
The housewife's money difficulties are not confined to the question of expenditure. For there is a factor not consciously put forward but evident upon a little probing.
If a woman remains poor, either actually or relatively, she always knows some man with whom she was familiar in her youth who became rich, or she has a woman friend whose husband has become successful. A subtle sort of regret for her marriage may and does arise in many a woman, a subtle disrespect for her husband because of his failure. The husband becomes aware of her decreased admiration, and he is hurt in his tenderest place, his pride. One of the worst cases of neurasthenia I have seen in a housewife arose in such a woman, who struggled between loyalty and contempt until exhausted. For she came of a successful family, she had married against their counsel and her husband, though good, was an entire failure financially. Measuring men by their success, she found her lowered position almost unendurable but was too proud to acknowledge her error. Out of this division in feelings came a complete deënergization.
Whether or not such a housewife deserves any sympathy in her trouble, it is certain she presents a problem to every one connected with her.
While money and expenditure afford a fertile field from which nervousness arises, there are others of importance.
Disagreement and disunion, conflict, arise over the training and care of the children. Here the different reactions of a man and woman—e.g. to a boy's pranks—causes a taking of sides that is disastrous to the peace of the family. Usually the American father believes his wife is too fussy about his son's manners and derelictions, secretly or otherwise he is quite pleased when his son develops into a "regular" boy,—tough, mischievous, and aggressive. But sometimes it is the overstern father who arouses the mother's concern for the child. If a frank quarrel results, no definite neurotic symptoms follow. It is when the woman fears to side against the husband and watches the discipline with vexation and inner agony that she lowers her energy in the way repeatedly described.
Next perhaps to actual disloyalty women feel most the cessation of the attentions, courtesies, and remembrances of their unmarried life. Women expect this to happen and usually they forgive it in the man who devotes himself to his family, struggles for a livelihood or better, and helps in the care of the children. It is the hyperæsthetic type of housewife spoken of previously who weighs against her husband's devotion a minor dereliction in courtesy.
For it is too common in women to let a momentary neglect or absent-minded discourtesy outweigh a lifetime of devotion. This is part of a feminine devotion to manner and form, of which men are, comparatively speaking, innocent.
Aside from this phase of woman's character there are men who either rapidly or gradually resume after marriage their bachelor freedom, to the neglect of their wives. Though for some time after marriage they give up their "freedom" to play consort and escort, sooner or later they sink back into finding their recreation with their male friends,—at club, lodge, saloon, pool room, etc. When night comes they are restless. At first one excuse or another takes them out, later they break boldly from the domestic ties and only occasionally and under protest do they stay at home or escort the housewife to church, visiting, or the theater.
(It needs be said at this point that in America married life often proceeds too far in the domestication of the man, in his complete separation from male companionship, in a never-broken companionship between man and wife. This is distinctly unhealthy for the man, for he requires in his recreation the sense of freedom from restraint that he can have only in masculine company; where the difficult attitude of chivalry can be discarded for an equality and a frankness impossible even with his wife.)
The housewife, thus left alone, though wounded, may adjust herself. She may build up a companionship for herself in church or amongst her neighbors; she may leave her husband and get a divorce; she may become unfaithful on the basis that turn about is fair play; she may devote herself with greater zeal to her home and children and build up a serene life against odds.
But often she does none of these things. Hurt in her pride, she struggles to gain back her husband. Tears and reproaches fail, sickness sometimes succeeds. If she is childless she becomes obsessed with the belief that a child would hold her husband home. If she is failing in the freshness of her beauty she makes a pathetic effort to hold her indifferent mate through cosmetics and beauty specialists. Without the courage and character to make or break the situation she falls into a feeling of inferiority from which originates her headaches, her feelings of unreality, her loss of enthusiasm, her depressed mind and body.
This type of woman, dependent upon the love and affection of her husband for her health and strength, mental and physical, is the type that woman's education and training, at least in the past, have tended to make. She has not been taught, she has not the power, to stand in life alone; she is the clinging vine to the man's oak, she is the traditional woman. She is happy and well with the right man, but Heaven help her if the marriage ceremony links her with a philanderer! For she has been taught to accept as true and right that mischievous couplet:
Love is of man's life a thing apart,
'Tis woman's whole existence.
We need for our womanhood a braver standpoint than that, one more firmly based, less apt to bring failure and disaster. For neither man nor woman should love be the whole existence. It should be a fundamental purpose interwoven with other purposes.
Fortunately one source of domestic difficulty will soon pass from America,—alcoholism. Politicians and theorizers may speak of the blow to individual liberty and satirically prophesy that soon coffee and tobacco will be legislated out also. They need to read Gilbert Chesterton and learn that though "a tree grows upward it stops growing and never reaches the sky." To see, as I do, the almost complete absence of delirium tremens from the emergency and city hospitals, where once every Sunday morning found a dozen or two of raving men; to witness the disappearance of alcoholic insanity from our asylums, where once it constituted fifteen per cent of the male admissions; to see cruelty to children drop to one tenth of its former incidence; to know that former drunkards are steadily at work to the joy of their wives and the good of their own souls,—this is to make one bitterly impatient with the chatter about the "joy and pleasure of life gone," etc. etc., that has become the stock-in-trade of the stage and the press. Though alcoholism did not cause all poverty, it stupefied men's minds so that they permitted much preventable poverty; though it did not cause all immorality, a few drinks often sent a good man to the brothel; and what is more, many of the brothel inmates endured their life largely because of the stupefying use of alcohol.
No one knows the evil of alcohol more than the poor housewife. Of course the woman brought up to believe that drunkenness was to be expected in a man—and who often drank with him—was a victim without severe mental anguish, though her whole life was ruined by drink. But for the refined woman who married a clean, clever young fellow only to have him come home some day reeking of liquor,—silly, obscene, helpless,—her contact with John Barleycorn took the joy and sweetness from her life. She often adjusted herself, but in many cases adjustment failed, and a chronic state of bruised and tingling nervousness resulted.
A future generation will not consider it possible that the people of a century that saw the use of wireless, the airship, radium, and the X-ray could think intoxication with its literal poisoning funny, could make a stock humorous situation out of it, and could regard the habit-forming drug that caused it a necessity.
After all is said and done, the fiercest domestic conflicts arise out of the inherent childishness of men and women. Pride and the unwillingness to concede personal error, overtender egoism, bossiness, and rebellion against it, petty jealousies and stubbornness,—these are the basic elements in discord. Children quarrel about trifles, children are unreasonably jealous, children fight for leadership and seek constantly to enlarge their ego as against their comrades. Any one who watches two five-year-olds for an hour will observe a dozen conflicts. So with many husbands and wives.
Unreason, petty jealousy, stubbornness over trifles, bossiness (not leadership), overready temper and overready tears,—these cause more domestic difficulty than alcohol and unfaithfulness put together. The education of American women is certainly not tending to eradicate these defects, which are not necessarily feminine, from her character. In the domestic struggle the man has the major faults as his burden; the woman has a host of minor ones. She claims equality for her virtues yet demands a tender consideration for her weaknesses.
Dealing with petty annoyances, disagreeing over petty matters, with her mind engrossed in her disillusions and grievances, many a woman finds her disagreeables a burden too much for her "nerves." That a philosophy of life would save her is of course obvious, but this is a matter which we shall deal with later.
CHAPTER IX
The Symptoms As Weapons Against The Husband
Throughout life, two great trends may be picked out of the intricacy of human motives and conduct. The one is (or may be called) the Will to Power, the other the Will to Fellowship. The will to power is the desire to conquer the environment, to lead one's fellows, to accumulate wealth (power), to write a great book (influence or power), to become a religious leader (power), to be successful in any department of human effort. In every group, from a few tots playing in the grass to gray-headed statesmen deciding a world's destinies, there is a struggle of these wills to power. In the children's group this takes the trivial (to us) form as to who shall be "policeman" or "teacher", in the statesmen it takes the "weighty" form as to which river shall form a boundary line and which group of capitalists shall exploit this or that benighted country. The will to power includes all trends which inflate the ego,—love of admiration, pride, reluctance to admit error, desire for beauty, lust for possession, cruelty, even philanthropy, which in many cases is the good man's desire for power over the lives of his fellows.
Side by side with this group of instincts and purposes, interplaying and interweaving with it, modifying it and being modified by it, is the group we call the will to fellowship. This is the social sense, the need of other's good will, the desire to help, sympathy, love, friendly feeling, self-sacrifice, sense of fair play, all the impulses that are essentially maternal and paternal, devotion to the interests of others. This will to fellowship permeates all groups, little and big, old and young, and is the cement stuff of life, holding society together.
There are those who find no difference between the egoism of the will to power and the altruism of the will to fellowship. They assert that if egoism is given a wider range, so that the ego includes others, you have altruism, which therefore is only an egoism of a larger ego. However true this may be logically, for all practical purposes we may separate these two trends in human nature.
In each individual there goes on from cradle to grave a struggle between the will to power and the will to fellowship. The teaching of morality is largely the government, the subordination of the will to power; the teaching of success and achievement is largely the discovery of means by which it is to be gained. However we may disguise it to ourselves, power is what we mainly seek, though we may call our goal knowledge, science, benevolence, invention, government, money.
Without the will to fellowship the will to power is tyranny, harshness, cruelty, autocracy, and men hate the possessor of such a character. Without the will to power, the will to fellowship is sterile, futile, and the owner becomes lost in a world of striving people who brush him aside. The two must mingle. And a curious thing becomes evident in the life of men, which in itself is simple enough to understand. When men who have been ruthless, concentrated on success, specialists in the will to power, reach their goal, they often turn to the thwarted will to fellowship for real satisfaction in life, become philanthropists, world benefactors, etc. On the other hand those who start out with ideals of altruism and service, specialists in the will to fellowship, generally lose enthusiasm for this and turn slowly, half reluctantly, to the will for power. In life's cycle it is common to see the egotist turn philanthropist, and the altruist, the idealist, lose faith and become an egotist.
How does this apply to the nervous housewife? Simply this, that there are various ways of seeking power, of gaining one's ends.
There is first the method of force, directly applied. The strong man disdains subtlety, persuasion, sweeps opposition aside. "Might is right" is his motto; he beats down opposition by fist, by sword, by thundering voice, or look. Men who use this method are little troubled by codes; they follow the primitive line of direct attack.
There is second the method of strategy, the disguise of purpose, the disguise of means. The effort is to shift the attention of the opponent to another place and then to walk off with the prize. "Possession is nine points of the law" say these folk. And a straight line is not the shortest way for strategy. Or exchange with your opponent, give what seems valuable for what is valuable and then fall back on the adage, "A fair exchange is no robbery."
Third, there is persuasion. Here, by stirring your opponent into friendliness, he talks matters over, he aligns his interest with yours. Compromise is the keynote, coöperation the watchword. "'Tis folly to fight, we both lose by battle; whose is the gain?"
Fourth is the method of the weak, to gain an end through weakness, through arousing sympathy, by parading grief, by awakening the discomfort of unpleasant emotion in an opponent who is of course not an implacable enemy. This has been woman's weapon from time immemorial; tears and sobs are her sword and gun. Unable to cope with man on an equal plane, through his superior physical strength, his intrenched social and legal position, she took advantage of her beauty and desirability, of his love; if that failed, she fell back on her grief and sorrow by which to plague him into submission, into yielding. Children use this weapon constantly; they cry for a thing and develop symptoms in the face of some disagreeable event, such as a threatened punishment. In their day-dreams the idea of dying to punish their cruel parents is a favorite one.
This appeal to the conscience of the stronger through a demonstration of weakness may be called "Will to Power through Weakness." It has long been known to women that a man is usually helpless in the presence of woman's tears, if it is apparent that something he has done has brought about the deluge. And in the case of some housewives, certain similarities between tears and the symptoms appear that show that in these cases, at least, the symptoms of nervousness appear as a substitute for tears in the marital conflict.
Not that this is a deliberate and fully conscious process, nor that it causes the symptoms. On the contrary, it is a use for them!
Such a conclusion of course is not to be reached in those cases where the symptoms arise out of sickness of some kind, or where they follow long and arduous household tasks. But every one knows that the woman who gets sick, has a nervous headache, weakness, a loss of appetite, or becomes blue as soon as she loses in some domestic argument, or when her will is crossed; these symptoms persist until the exasperated but helpless husband yields the point at issue. Then recovery takes place almost at once.
In some of the severer cases of neurasthenia in women such a mechanism can be traced. There is a definite relation between the onset of the attacks and some domestic difficulty, and though the recovery does not take place at once, an adjustment in favor of the wife causes the condition to turn soon for the better.
I do not claim that the above is an original discovery. True, the medical men have not formulated it in their textbooks, but every experienced practitioner knows it to occur. And the humorists and the satirists of the daily press use the theme every day. The favorite point is that the brutal husband is forced to his knees through the disabilities of his wife, and that cure takes place when—he gets her the bonnet or dress she wants, when the trip to Florida is ordered, etc. etc.
Discreditable to women? Discreditable to those women who use it? Men would do the same in the face of superior force. In the battle of wills that goes on in life the weak must use different weapons than the strong. Doubtless the women of another day, trained otherwise than our present-day women and having a different relationship to men, will abandon, at least in larger part, the weapons of weakness. Wherever women work with men on a plane of equality they ask no favors and resort to no tears. They play the game as men do, as "good sports." But where the relationship is the one-sided affair of matrimony, a certain type uses her tears, her aches and pains, her moods, and her failings to gain her point.
CHAPTER X
Histories Of Some Severe Cases
The cases that follow represent mainly the severe types of nervousness in the housewife. To every case that comes to the neurologist there are a hundred that explain their symptoms as "stomach trouble", "backache", etc., who remain well enough to carry on, and who think their pains and aches inevitably wrapped with the lot of woman.
It will be seen, upon reading these cases, that a rather pessimistic attitude is taken toward some of them. It would be nice to present a series of cases all of which recovered, and it would be easy to do that by picking the cases. Such a series would be optimistic in its trend; it would however have the small demerit of being false to life. Though the majority of women suffering from nervousness may be relieved or cured, a number cannot be essentially benefited. Some of them have temperaments utterly incompatible with matrimony, others have husbands of the incorrigible type, others have life situations to change which would make it necessary to change society. Therefore in these cases all a doctor can do is to relieve symptoms, relieve some of the distress and rest content with that.
I am essentially neither pessimist nor optimist in the presentation of these cases, nor do I seek to present the man or woman's case with prejudice. In life a realistic attitude is the best, for if we were to remove much of the sentimental self-deception at present so prevalent, huge reforms would occur almost overnight. Sentimentality decorates and disguises all kinds of horridness and makes us feel kindly toward evil. Strip it away, and we would immediately break down the evil.
There is always this danger in presenting "cases" to a lay public, that symptoms are suggested to a great many people. How deeply suggestible the mass of people can be is only appreciated when one sees the result of public health lectures and books. Many persons tend to develop all the symptoms they hear of, from pains and aches to mental failure. Even in the medical schools this is so, and every medical teacher is consulted each year by students who feel sure they have the diseases he has described.
So in presenting the following cases symptoms will be largely omitted. What will be presented is history and to a certain extent treatment. That part of treatment which is strictly medical can only be indicated.
It may be said that in obtaining the intimate history of a woman a difficulty is met with in the natural reluctance to telling what often seems to the patient painful and unnecessary details. To some people it seems inconceivable that fears, pains and aches, sleeplessness, etc., can arise out of difficulties like the monotony of housework, temperament, or troubles with the husband. Furthermore, though some women understand well enough the source of their conflicts, they are ashamed to tell and rest mainly on the surface of their symptoms. To obtain the truth it is necessary to see the patient over and over again, to get somewhat closer to her. This is especially easy to do after the physician has to a certain extent relieved the patient. In other words, except in the cases where the woman is quite prepared to tell of her intimate difficulties, it is best to go slowly from the medical to the social-psychological point of view.
Case I. The overworked, under-rested type of housewife.
Mrs. A.J., thirty years old, is a woman of American birth and ancestry. Her parents were poor, her father being a mechanic in a factory town of Massachusetts. She had several brothers and sisters, all of whom reached maturity and most of whom married.
Before marriage she was a salesgirl in a department store, worked fairly hard for rather small pay, but was strong, jolly, liked dancing and amusements, liked men and had her girl friends.
At the age of twenty-two she married a mechanic of twenty-four, a good, sober, steady man, devoted to her and very domestic. Unfortunately he was not very well for some time following a pneumonia in the third year of their marriage. They drew upon all their savings and fell seriously in debt. This meant borrowing and scrimping for several years,—a fact which had great bearing on the wife's illness later.
They had three children, born the twelfth month, the third year, and the fourth year after marriage. After the first child the mother was very well, nursed the baby successfully, and the little family flourished. Then came the unfortunate illness of the husband, which threw him out of work for six months, during which time they lived on an allowance from his union, his savings, and finally ran into debt. This greatly grieved the man and depressed the woman, but both bore up well under it until the birth of the second child, when their circumstances forced them to move to a poorer apartment. The wife was delivered by a dispensary physician, who did his duty well but allowed the woman, who protested she felt well, to get up and care for her husband and baby much earlier than she should have done.
The nursing of this baby was more difficult. The mother's breasts did not seem to be nearly as active as in the previous case. The baby cried a great deal and needed attention a good part of the night. The husband was unable to help as he had previously done and the fatigue of the care of child and man brought a condition where the woman was tired all the time. Still she bore up well, though when the summer came she greatly missed the little two weeks' vacation that she and her husband had yearly taken together from the days of their courtship.
The husband recovered, but his strength came back very slowly. He went to work as soon as possible but worked only part time for six months. At night he came home utterly exhausted and could not help his wife at all.
During the next year both children were sick, first with scarlet fever and then with whooping cough. The mother did most of the nursing, though by this time the father was able to help and did. The necessary expenses so depleted the family treasury that when the summer came neither could afford to go away.
Both noticed that the mother was getting more irritable than was natural to her. She went out very seldom and her youthful good looks had largely been replaced by a sharp-featured anxiety. Though she carried on faithfully she had to rest frequently and at night tossed restlessly, though greatly fatigued.
She became pregnant again, much to her dismay and to the great regret of her husband. At times she thought of abortion, but only in a desperate way. The last few months of her term were in the very hot months of the year and she was very uncomfortable. However, she was delivered safely, got up in a week to help in the care of her other two children and to get the house into shape again. Her milk was fairly plentiful, despite her fatigue and "jumpy nerves." Unfortunately at this time, when they had accumulated a little surplus and she was looking forward to better clothes for her family and more comforts, the plant at which her husband was employed suspended operations because of some "high finance" mix-up. Coming at this time, the news struck terror into her heart; she broke down, became "hysterical" i.e. had an emotional outburst. This passed away, but now she was sleepless, had no appetite, complained of headache and great fatigue.
Though she was assured that the plant would reopen soon (in fact it soon did), she made little progress. That she was suffering from a psychoneurosis was evident; what remained was to bring about treatment.
This was done by enlisting a development of recent days,—the Social Service agencies. Out of the old-time charity has come a fine successor, social service; out of the amateurish, self-consciously gracious and sweet Lady Bountiful has come the social worker. Unfortunately social service has not yet dropped the name "Charity", perhaps has not been able to do so, largely because the well-to-do from whom the money must come like to think of themselves as charitable, rather than as the beneficiaries of the social system giving to the unfortunates of that system.
Let me say one more word about social service and the social worker, though I feel that a volume of praise would be more fitting. The social worker has become an indispensable part of the hospital organization, an investigator to bring in facts, a social adjuster to bring about cure. For a hospital to be without a social service department is to confess itself behind the times and inefficient.
Briefly, this is what was done for this family.
Their prejudices against social aid were removed by emphasizing that they were not recipients of charity. The husband was allowed to pay, or arrange to pay, for a six weeks' stay in the country for the mother and the new baby. The home for this purpose was found by the agency and was that of a kindly elderly couple who took the woman into their hearts as well as over their threshold. The social worker arranged with a nursing organization to send a worker to the man's house each day to clean up the home while the children stayed in a nursery. One way or another the husband and children were made comfortable, and the wife came back from her stay, made over, eager to get back to her work.
It is obvious that in such a case as this the physician is largely diagnostician and director, the actual treatment consisting in getting a selfish and inert social system to help out one of its victims. That a sick man should be left to sink or swim, though he has previously been industrious and a good member of society, is injustice and social inefficiency. That a woman, under such circumstances, should be left with the entire burden on her hands is part of the stupidity and cruelty of society.
How avert such a thing? For one thing do away with the name "Charity" in relief work,—and find some system by which industry will adequately care for its victims. What system will do that? I fear it may be called socialistic to suggest that some of the fifteen billions spent last year on luxuries might better be shifted to social amelioration. The record in automobile production would be more pleasing if it did not mean a shift from real social wealth to individual luxury.
Case II. The over-rich, purposeless woman.
This type is of course the direct opposite of the woman in Case I and represents the kind of woman usually held up as most commonly afflicted with "nervousness." "If she really had something to do," say the critics, "she would not be nervous."
This is fundamentally true of her, though not true of the majority of women whom we have discussed. It seems difficult to believe that hard work and worry may bring the same results as idleness and dissatisfaction, but it is true that both deënergize the organism, the body and mind, and so are kindred evils. What's the matter with the poor is their poverty, while the matter with the rich is their wealth.
Mrs. A. De L. is of middle-class people whose parents lived beyond their means and educated their only daughter to do the same. Here is one of the anomalies of life: bitterly aware of their folly, the extravagant and struggling deliberately push their children into the same road. Mrs. De L. learned early that the chief objects of life in general were to keep up appearances and kill time; that as a means to success a woman must get a rich husband and keep beautiful. Being an intelligent girl and pretty she managed to get the rich husband,—and settled down to the rich housewife's neurosis.
Her husband was old-fashioned despite his rather new wealth, and they had two children,—a large modern American family. Though he allowed her to have servants he insisted that she manage their household, which she did with rebellion for a short time, and then rather quickly broke away from it by turning over the household to a housekeeper. This brought about the silent disapproval of her husband, who let her "have her own way", as he said, "because it's the fashion nowadays."
She became a seeker of pleasure and sensation, drifting from one type of amusement to the other in an intricately mixed coöperation and rivalry with members of her set. She followed every fad that infests staid old Boston, from the esoteric to the erotic. She became an accomplished dancer, ran her own car, followed the races, went to art exhibitions, subscribed to courses of lectures of which she would attend the first, dabbled in new religions, became enthusiastic: about social work for a month or two,—and became a professional at bridge. Summers she rested by chasing pleasure and flirting with male habitués of fashionable summer resorts; part of the winter she recuperated at Palm Beach, where she vied for the leadership of her set with her dearest enemy.
Her husband financed all her ventures with a disillusioned shrug of his shoulders. As she entered the thirties she became intensely dissatisfied with herself and her life, tried to get back to active supervision of her home but found herself in the way, though her children were greatly pleased and her husband sceptical. The need of excitement and change persisted; gradually an intense boredom came over her. Her interest in life was dulled and she began a mad search for some sensation that would take away the distressing self-reproach and dissatisfaction. Shortly after this she lost the power to sleep and had a host of symptoms which need not be detailed here.
The medical treatment was first to restore sleep. I may say that this is a first step of great importance, no matter how the sleeplessness originates. For even if an idea or a disturbing emotion is its cause, the sleeplessness may become a habit and needs energetic attention.
With this done, attention was paid to the social situation, the life habits. It was pointed out that all the philosophies of life were based on simple living and work, and that all the wise men from the beginning of the written word to our own times have shown the futility of seeking pleasure. It was shown that to be a sensation seeker was to court boredom and apathy, and that these had deënergized her.
For interest in the world is the great source of energy and the great marshaler of energy. From the child bored by lack of playmates, who brightens up at the sight of a woolly little dog, to the old and vigorous man who makes the mistake of resigning from work, this function of interest can be shown.
She was advised to get a fundamental, nonegoistic purpose, one that would rally both her emotions and her intelligence into service. Finally she was told bluntly that on these steps depended her health and that from now on any breakdown would be merely a confession of failure in reasonableness and purpose.
That she improved greatly and came back to her normal health I know. Whether she continued to remain well and how far she followed the advice given I cannot say. From the earliest time to this, necessity has been the main spur to purpose, and probably the lure of social competition drew the lady back to her old life. Experience, though the best teacher, seems to have the same need of repetition that all teaching does.
Case III. The physically sick woman who displays nervousness.
Though this is one of the most important of the types of nervous housewife the subject is essentially medical. We shall therefore not detail any case, but it is wise to reemphasize some facts.
There are bodily diseases of which the early and predominant symptoms are classed as "nervousness." Hyperthyroidism, or Graves' Disease, a condition in which there is overactivity of the thyroid gland and which is particularly prevalent among young women, is one of those diseases. In this condition excitability, irritability, emotional outbursts, fatigue, restlessness, digestive disorders, vasomotor disorders, appear before the characteristic symptoms do.
Neuro-syphilis is another such disease. This is an involvement of the nervous system by syphilis. One of the tragedies that distresses even hardened doctors is to find some fine woman who has acquired neuro-syphilis through her husband, though he himself may remain well. In the early stages this disease not only has neurasthenic symptoms but is very responsive to treatment, and thus the early diagnosis is of great importance.
What is known as reflex nervousness arises as a result of minor local conditions, such as astigmatism and other eye conditions, trouble with the nose and throat and trouble with the organs of generation. The latter is especially important in any consideration of nervousness in the housewife, particularly in the woman who has borne children. Frequently too the existence of hemorrhoids, resulting from constipation, acts to increase the irritability of a woman who is perhaps too modest to consult a physician regarding such trouble. Where such modesty exists (and it is found in the very women one would be apt to think were the very last to be swayed by it), then a competent woman physician should be consulted. With good women physicians and surgeons in every large community there is no reason for reluctance to be examined on the part of any woman.
Further details are not necessary. Enough has been said to emphasize the fact that the nervousness of the housewife is first a medical problem and then a social-psychological one.
Case IV. A case presenting bad hygiene as the essential factor.
Bad hygiene is something more than exposure to bad air, poor food, contaminated water, etc. It includes habits and times of eating, attention to the bowels, outdoor exercise, sleep, and in the marital state it includes the sexual indulgence.
The housewife under consideration, Mrs. T.F., aged twenty-eight, married five years, two children, complained mainly of headache, occasional dizziness, great irritability, and fatigue, so that quarrels with her husband were very common, though there seemed nothing to quarrel about. The family was not rich, but lived in a comfortable apartment; there were no serious financial burdens, the children were reasonably healthy and good, and the closest questioning revealed the husband as a kindly man who never took the initiative in quarrels but who was never able to keep silent under provocation. The couple was still in love and there seemed to be no essential incompatibility.
Questioned as to her habits, Mrs. F. said she did all her own housework except the washing and ironing and scrubbing. She had a little girl three times a week to take the baby out. Before marriage she had been a stenographer, but never earned high pay and had no love for her work. In fact she gave it up with relief and found housework with its disagreeable features much more to her taste than business. She had been of a placid, pleasant temperament and could not understand the change in her.
Since all this did not explain her symptoms, closer inquiry was made into her habits. She arose with her husband at seven-thirty, prepared his breakfast, sent the oldest child off to kindergarten and then had her own breakfast, which usually consisted of toast and coffee. At noon she had a very small piece of meat or an egg and a few potatoes with tea. At night she ate sparingly of the dinner, which usually was meat, potatoes, another vegetable, and a dessert. Her husband here stated that she ate at this meal less than the boy of four and a half.
Comparing her buxom figure with the diet a discrepancy was at once apparent. She then confessed with shame that she was a constant nibbler, eating a bit of this or that every half hour or so, and consequently never had an appetite. The food thus nibbled usually was either spicy or sweet, and she consumed quite a bit of candy. Her bowels moved infrequently and she always needed laxatives. In her spare time she felt rather "logy", rarely went out, except now and then at night with her husband, and spent her leisure hours on the couch reading or nibbling.
This in itself would have quite explained much of her trouble. It has been pointed out that body and mind are not separable; that mental functions are based on the bodily functions, and that mood may rest on no more exalted cause then the condition of the bowels. But a more intimate questioning revealed sexual habits which are easily drifted into by people of an amorous turn of character and who are really fond of one another. These both husband and wife frankly said they had not meant to speak of, but with their disclosure it was evident that a good deal of importance was to be attached to them.
The correction of the life habits was of course the fundamental need. The young woman was instructed in detail as to diet, the care of the bowels and outdoor exercise. Since she was in perfect condition except for stoutness she could easily look for recovery, and as an added incentive the restoration of youthful good looks was held out as certain.
The sexual life was frankly discussed, and necessary restrictions were imposed. Both the husband and wife agreed willingly to the changes ordered and promised faithfully to carry out instructions.
The patient made a splendid recovery and very rapidly. Here was a deënergization dependent solely upon the sedentary life of the housewife and upon ignorance of sex hygiene. Here were quarreling and impending marital disaster removed by attention to details in living. Here was a complete proof that not only does a sound mind need a sound body, but that a sound marriage needs one as well.
Case V. The hyperæsthetic woman.
Mrs. J.F. is twenty-seven years of age. She was born in the United States, of middling well-to-do people. Her father was a gruff, hearty man, not in the least bit finicky, who really despised manners and the like, though he was conventional enough in his own way. Her mother was an old-fashioned housewife, fond of her home and family, in fact perhaps more attached to the former than the latter. She hated servants and got along without them (except for a day woman) until she became rather too old to do the work.
J.'s sister and two brothers were duplicates of the parents,—hearty, stolid, and remarkably plain looking. J., the younger sister, though not the youngest in the family, was as different from her family as if she had sprung from another stock. She was slender, very pretty, with a quick, alert mind which jumped at conclusions, because labored analysis fatigued it. Above all, from the very start of life she was sensitive to a degree that perplexed her family, who were however intensely sympathetic because they adored her. This adoration arose from the fact that J. was brighter and prettier than most of her friends, and that her cleverness in many directions—music, writing, talking, handiwork—was the talk of their little group.
This sensitiveness arose from two main factors. First, an egoism fostered by the worship of her friends and the leadership of her group,—an egoism which led her to regard as a sort of insult anything disagreeable. Accustomed to praise, the least criticism implied or outspoken cut like a knife; accustomed to being waited upon, she resented physical discomfort of the slightest kind. Second, there must also have been an actual physical sensitiveness to sights, sounds, smells, tastes, etc. that made her perceive what others failed to notice. This led to an artistry manifested by her nice work in music and decoration and also by an excessive displeasure at the inartistic.
With this training, experience, and natural temperament she should have married a rich collector of art products, who would have added her to his collection and cherished her as his most fragile possession. Instead, through the working of that strange law of contraries by which Nature strikes averages between extremes, she fell in love with a hulk of a man whose ideas on art were limited to calling a picture "pretty", who loved sports and the pleasures of the table, and whose business motto was "Beat the other guy to it." A successful man, troubled with few subtleties either of approach or conscience, he viewed the marriage relationship in the old-fashioned way and the new American indulgence. A man's wife was to be given all the clothes she wanted, servants to help run the home, ought to bear two or three children, and love her indulgent husband. As for any real intimacy, he knew nothing of it. Kindly, self-indulgent, wife-indulgent, child-indulgent, ruthless in business, he may stand as something America has produced without any effort.
From the very first night J.'s world was shattered. We need not enter into details in this matter, but a woman of this type needs finesse in the initiation into marriage more than at any other time. Cave-man style outraged her every fiber, and the man was dumbfounded at her reaction. Though he tried to make amends his very effort and lack of understanding complicated matters.
Aside from this matter, which in the course of time became adjusted, so that though she rebelled desire arose in her, she found herself at odds with her husband's tastes and conduct in little things. Though his table manners were good enough, the gusto of his eating annoyed her and took away her own appetite. When they went to a play together the coarse jokes and the plainly sensuous aroused his enthusiasm. He lacked subtlety and could not understand the "finer" things of life. As he grew settled in matrimony, which he enjoyed in spite of her nerves (which he took for granted as like a woman), he grew stouter and this irritated and jarred her.
She finally realized she no longer loved him. It is doubtful if she realized this before the birth of her first and only child. She lacked maternal feeling and rebelled with a bitter rebellion against the distortion of her figure that came with the pregnancy. The nursing ordered by the doctor and expected by all around her nearly drove her "wild", she said, for she felt like a "cow", a "female." Indeed she reacted bitterly against the femaleness that marriage forced on her and hated the essential maleness of her husband. Her emotional reaction against nursing took away her milk, and finally the disgusted family doctor ordered the baby weaned and he was turned over to a servant.
She went back to her own life, determined to become a housewife, to see if she could not love her husband and her home. But everything he did irritated her, and everything in the house made her feel as in a "luxurious cage." Yet she was by no means a feminist; she detested "noisy suffragettes", thought women doctors and lawyers ridiculous, and had been brought up to regard marriage as indissoluble.
Gradually out of the conflict, the chilling fear that she had made a mistake which could not be rectified, the constant irritation and annoyances, the revolt against her own sex feeling and her life situation, arose the neurosis. It took the form mainly of sudden unaccountable fears with faint dizzy feelings. The family physician on the aside told me that it was "just a case of a damn fool woman with everybody too good to her."
What constitutes a "damn fool" will include every person in the world, according to some one else. It seemed obvious to me that J. was not meant by nature to be a housewife or any kind of wife. Matrimonially she was a misfit, unless she met some man of a type like herself, though I doubt if any man could have pleased her. I doubt if her over-exacting taste would not rebel against the animal in life itself. For though the animal of life is essentially as fine as the human, certain types find it impossible to acknowledge it in themselves.