But this theory, like the entire doctrine of secondary sex characters,

stands upon a doubtful basis. It has grown up out of a comparison of

men and women in very unequal situations. The bodies of men and women

whose field of work and type of occupation differ widely have been

compared. The man attends to the extra-domestic activities, while the

woman is chiefly occupied at home. Bachofen writes: “If a man sits at a

spinning-wheel a weakening of body and of soul will inevitably follow.”

Charles de Coster in his “Wedding Journey” makes the significant

remark: “Work in the fields had given Liska hips like a robust man’s.”

Certain of the physical differences between men and women may therefore

be sociologically determined rather than due to inborn differences.

One may object that the division of labor between the sexes, in which

the woman takes the domestic and the man the extra-domestic sphere, is

itself determined by inborn sex differences. Even in Socrates’s time

it was believed that the nature of the sexes fixed their fields of

activity. Man was unquestionably intended for matters which must be

attended to outside the house, “while the weak and timid woman was by

divine order assigned to the inner work of the home.” After thorough

investigation it appears that this hoary theory, which still persists,

is false. The division of labor between man and woman corresponds not

to an innate difference but to their power-relation. If man dominates

he says that woman’s place is the home, and that work outside the home

is fit only for men. If woman is dominant then she has the opposite

opinion, takes care of business outside the home, and leaves the man to

take care of the family and the housekeeping. The ruling sex, whether

male or female, always puts the domestic duties on the subordinate

sex and takes to itself work outside the home. To-day man is dominant,

but there have been many peoples among whom woman was dominant and the

rôle of man and woman was the reverse of that common to-day. In ancient

Egypt there was a period when women ruled. Herodotus reports that they

unnaturally performed “masculine” activities, carried on commerce in

the market-place, while the men stayed at home, sewed, and attended to

domestic difficulties. To Herodotus, who came from a state where men

were dominant, the work of the Egyptian women naturally seemed “male.”

In the Talmud Herodotus’s report is confirmed. The children of Israel,

it tells us, were disturbed because their men were forced to do women’s

work and their women men’s work. In Sophocles’s “Œdipus Kolonos”

Œdipus says to his two daughters: “Ha, how they imitate the Egyptians

in the manner and meaning of life. There the men stay home and sit at

the spinning-wheel, and the women go out to meet the needs of life.”

Œdipus also mentions the fact reported also by Herodotus, that only

the daughters, not the sons, were compelled in Egypt to support their

parents. The sons could not fulfill that duty, Sophocles says, because,

like the Greek girls, they stayed at home and had no income from their

labor. Furthermore, they had only a limited right to own property.

One might cite many other peoples where the woman was dominant. Among

the Kamchadales the men, in the days of female dominance, were such

complete housewives that they cooked, sewed, washed, and were never

allowed to stay away from home for more than a day. Similarly among

the Lapps there was a period when the men did the housework while the

women fished and sailed the sea. Under such circumstances the men also

took care of the children. Strabo and Humboldt both report of the

Vasko-Iberian races that the women worked in the fields; after child

birth they turned the child over to the man and themselves resumed

their work in the fields. A similar arrangement prevailed in the days

when women ruled Lybia, which bordered upon Egypt.

When one sex is dominant there is always a division of labor.

This differentiation of occupation is one of the chief causes of

certain differences in physical form between men and women. It changes

the fundamental conditions of development--among others the course

of the inner secretions. Where man rules he does the active outside

work and is accordingly larger and stronger; where woman rules and

does the same “man’s work” her body assumes what are to-day regarded

as typically male proportions, whereas the man develops what we call

feminine characteristics. We have a few definite proofs of this from

states dominated by women.

When woman ruled among the Gauls, and worked outside the home, we are

told by Strabo that the female was the larger and stronger sex.

Among the Adombies on the Congo women were in power and did all the

hard work. According to Ellis they were stronger and better developed

than the men. The same was true of the Wateita in East Africa. Fritsch

and Hellwald report that the woman is larger than the man among the

Bushmen. Female and male pelvises show no differences, but are alike

“male” in our sense of the word.

The Spartan women in the days of their rule had a reputation for

enormous strength. Aristophanes says that a Spartan woman could

strangle an ox bare-handed. The Egyptian women at the height of their

power were called by their neighbors the “lionesses of the Nile,”

and they seemed to like the name. When Heracles visited the Lybians,

whose state bordered on Egypt and of whose rule by women we have many

witnesses, he had to work, like the other men of the country, with the

distaff. His wife Omphale, however, wandered about clad in a lionskin

and armed with a club, and won respect for her strength.

A very striking report comes from near New Guinea, where the woman

was stronger than the man. There it was a common sight to see a woman

spanking her husband with a paddle. Through the brute force of superior

strength she oppressed the man just as men oppress women where the

woman is weaker.

Thus through legend and the records of travelers we have clear

testimony that man is not larger and stronger than woman because of

innate differences, as is generally supposed, but that physical

superiority is a characteristic of the dominant sex, regardless whether

that be male or female.

Similarly those secondary physical characteristics which are to-day

regarded as female are found among males when they occupy the

subordinate position in which woman lives to-day. Woman is inclined

to-day to full, rounded curves and even to stoutness. Among the Celts

the woman dominated, and according to Strabo the men of that people

were inclined to be fat and heavy-paunched. The same was true of

the Kamchadales in the days of woman rule. The men were strikingly

voluptuous and well rounded. The male Eskimos too were inclined

to fatness in the days when they did the housekeeping. The more

subordinate the fatter.

In this connection the Oriental women are typical; their exuberance

of figure is as well known as their absolute subordination and their

confinement to the home. They may be contrasted with the fat and

subordinate male Kamchadales, whose wives were slim and firm breasted

into old age.

Equal rights do away with this division of labor. There are no longer

male and female jobs; not sex but inclination and fitness now begin

to determine the individual’s occupation. In late Egypt, when the

domination of woman was merging into a period of equal rights, there

are many indications that both sexes did the same work without any

differentiation of occupation. In the marriage contract in the time of

Darius, the woman--who then made the contract alone--says, “All, which

you and I may together earn....” Victor Marx has studied the position

of woman in Babylon in the period 604-485 B.C., and finds a similar

situation. In an inheritance case of that period a woman recites that

“I and my husband carried on business with my dowry and together

bought a piece of land.” Such common businesses by man and woman are

frequently mentioned. Under such circumstances it was natural that

neither man nor woman bound themselves at marriage to live in the same

house, for both went to work outside the home.

To-day, when we are passing from male domination to equal rights it

is natural that the woman should be seeking more and more to get out

of the home. The greater her power the more she seeks to level the

lines between male and female work. This effort is strongest in the

subordinate sex--in this case the feminine--because it seeks naturally

to better its position. In this transition period, therefore, women

are pressing into male pursuits much faster than men into domestic

occupations. Yet even in Germany a beginning has been made. For

women the male professions seem higher and better, because they have

hitherto belonged to the dominant sex, while for the men feminine

occupations seem to have about them something degrading; but the more

women approach equality the less odium attaches to what has been their

sphere, and the more men tend to enter it.

The same phenomenon may be observed in periods of transition from

female to male domination. Among the Batta, for instance, both sexes

worked in the fields, but the man alone cared for the children. This

was obviously a step toward equal rights. The men already shared the

extra-domestic occupations of the women, but the women still refused to

share the work of the hitherto subordinate men.

When equal rights put an end to the differentiation of occupation

the physical differences between men and women also disappear. We are

to-day still far enough away from equality of the sexes, but there

have been people where equal rights prevailed, and among such people

the physical form of the two sexes was so like that they could hardly

be distinguished. In Tacitus’s day, when equality was probably general

among the Germans, men and women are reported to have had exactly the

same weight and strength. Albert Friedenthal says of the Cingalese

that a stranger could not distinguish the sexes. Men and women were so

alike among the Botocudos that one had to count their tresses to tell

them apart. Lallemant found among this people “a swarm of men-women and

women-men, not a single man or a single woman in the whole tribe.” This

good man came from a state where men dominated and did not suspect that

when the power-relation of the sexes changed their physical appearance

changed too. If a Botocudo had come to Europe in those days he would

presumably have judged by his own standards and noted with equal horror

the outer differences of European men and women.

Every age holds its own standards absolute. The domination of one sex

depends upon the artificial development of as many and as striking

bodily differences as possible, and therefore approves them and insists

upon emphasizing them. Equal rights tend to develop the natural

similarity of the sexes and considering that the norm, regards it as

ideal.

There is ample opportunity to observe to-day that equality of the sexes

coincides with a tendency slowly to do away with artificial physical

differences. The disappearance of the so-called feminine figure was

so striking in America, where the sexes are more nearly equal than in

Europe, that Sargent and Alexander prophesied in 1910 that soon men

and women could hardly be distinguished from one another. A comparison

with pictures of thirty or forty years ago makes it plain that even

in Europe male and female figures are coming closer to each other.

The narrow waists and full bosoms of the women and the full beards of

the men have disappeared. And, as a result of our investigation, we

may prophesy that the coming equality will still more completely iron

out those differences which hitherto have been regarded as genuine

secondary sex characters.

Whenever one sex is dominant there is a tendency to differentiate male

and female costume. The more completely one sex dominates the greater

will be the differences in clothes, and as the sexes become equal the

differences disappear. When the two sexes are really equal they will

wear the same clothing.

The clothing of the dominant sex usually tends to be uniform and

tasteless, that of the subordinate to be varied and richly ornamented.

To-day man is still dominant, and his clothes are monotonous, dull,

and less subject to shifts of fashion. Especially in formal dress he

wears a sort of uniform. All men, of whatever age or position, wear

dress clothes of the same cut and color. A grandfather wears a dinner

coat exactly like that of his eighteen-year-old grandson. This seems

natural, but the situation is reversed with the subordinate sex, most

completely when the subordination is most complete. Only twenty or

thirty years ago it was a crime in Germany for a mother to dress as

“youthfully” as her unmarried daughter. A grandmother who dared to

dress like her eighteen-year-old granddaughter would have been laughed

to scorn. As woman’s power has grown, this has changed. Custom no

longer requires a grandmother to emphasize her age by her clothes.

Where woman dominates she tends to wear darker and plainer clothing and

the man dresses himself more richly and variously. Erman writes of the

old Egyptians:

While according to our conceptions it befits the woman to love finery

and ornament, the Egyptians of the old Empire seem to have had an

opposite opinion. Beside the elaborate costumes of the men the women’s

clothing seems very monotonous, for, from the fourth to the eighteenth

dynasty, all, from the king’s daughter to the peasant woman, wore the

same garb--a simple garment without folds.

Herodotus, indeed, reported that Egyptian men had two suits, women

only one. Erman naturally cannot explain the simplicity of the women’s

clothes and the eagerness of the men for color and ornament, because it

contradicted current theories of the character of the two sexes. To-day

the view is current which Runge expressed when he said that “Women’s

desire to please and love of ornament is dependent upon her sex life.”

This view, though still common, is fundamentally false. The inclination

to bright and ornamental clothing is dependent not upon sex but upon

the power-relation of the sexes. The subordinate sex, whether male or

female, seeks ornament. Strabo tells of the love of finery and cult of

the body among Lybian men. They curled their hair, even their beards,

wore gold ornaments, diligently brushed their teeth and polished their

finger-nails. “They arrange their hair so tenderly,” he writes, “that

when walking they never touch one another, in order not to disturb it.”

It is usual in states where women are dominant for the men to wear long

hair and pay particular attention to their barbering. The men of Tana,

in the Hebrides, wore their hair 18 to 20 inches long, divided into six

or seven hundred tiny locks, in the days when women ruled. Among the

Latuka the men wore their hair so elaborately that it took ten years to

arrange it. The Konds also wore very long hair, elaborately arranged.

The stronger tendency of the subordinate sex to ornamentation

apparently is closely related to the division of labor. The subordinate

sex, working at home, has more leisure and opportunity for ornament

than the dominant. Furthermore, leisure stimulates the erotic feelings.

Since the partner does not share the leisure the lonely erotic often

seeks a way out in self-ornamentation. At the same time the ornament is

intended for the partner, for the stimulated eroticism increases the

desire to please the other sex.

When the sexes are equal the clothes of the two sexes tend to be alike.

We have noted that the Cingalese were physically similar; their clothes

were exactly the same. The only difference was that the men wore a

mother-of-pearl comb in the hair, the women none. Among the Lepka the

sexes can be distinguished only by the fact that the men wear their

hair in two braids, the women in one. Tacitus reports that the old

Germans wore the same clothes and wore their hair alike.

We can observe the tendency to similarity of costume in this transition

period. Many such attempts fail the first time, but finally succeed.

More than a decade ago Paris attempted to establish a fashion of

knickerbockers and bobbed hair. The attempt failed, but to-day the

bobbed head has invaded every civilized country, almost in direct

proportion to the degree in which women have acquired equal rights.

It is reported from England that English women can already go to

their work in trousers, heavy shoes, and short hair without exciting

attention. The reader may judge of the accuracy of these reports. In

Germany the police forbid one sex to wear the clothes of the other, but

during the war when German women had to enter male trades they usually

wore men’s clothing.

Among men too the tendency to similarity is evident. Thirty years ago

the beard was a generally accepted sign of manhood; it has fallen out

of fashion. In the Youth Movement there is a tendency to leave the

shirt open at the neck and to adopt a hair-cut like a bobbed girl’s. A

note in Jean Paul’s “Levana,” which appeared in 1806, is interesting.

He writes: “A few years ago it was fashionable in Russia for the men to

fill out their clothing with high false bosoms.” That was in the days

following the French Revolution, when a short wave of freedom, even for

women, swept across the earth. It showed also in the women’s fashion

which Jean Paul mentions:

A fortunate accident for daughters is the Grecian costume of the

present Gymnosophists (naked female runners), which, it is true,

injures the mothers but hardens the daughters; for as age and custom

should avoid every fresh cold so youth exercises itself on it as on

every hardship until it can bear greater.... So, likewise, the present

naked manner of dressing is a cold bath into which the daughters are

dipped, who are exhilarated by it.

Modern Love and Modern Fiction

By J. W. Krutch

Joseph Wood Krutch

_has been Professor of English at the Brooklyn Polytechnic Institute,

and is now dramatic editor and regular critic of fiction of_ The Nation.

MODERN LOVE AND MODERN FICTION

BY J. W. KRUTCH

Seeing upon the jacket of a recent book the legend “Solves the Sex

Problem,” my first reaction was a fervent hope that it did nothing

of the sort, for I had no desire that fiction should be rendered

supererogatory or, what is the same thing, that life should be made a

less difficult art. Problems of housing, wages, taxation, militarism,

and the like may be solved, temporarily at least, but what a

contemporary writer has called “the irony of being two” is a sufficient

guaranty of one never-to-be-resolved complexity. Until each individual

of the human species becomes a complete biological entity, until, that

is to say, hermaphrodism is universal, there can be no fear lest we

should cease to live dangerously.

Were I speaking of happiness I should be compelled to argue that

the attitude of society and the individual toward sex is the most

important thing in the world, but speaking as I am of life as

material for art I must maintain, on the contrary, that it is much

less important. As long as they have an attitude and as long as that

attitude remains, as it has always remained, an inadequate one, those

unresolved discords which make living and reading interesting will

continue to arise. As a critic I “view with alarm” nothing except

the possibility that the problem should be solved to everybody’s

satisfaction, but that calamity does not seem at all likely to occur

since I have never heard of a saint in the desert or a debauché in a

brothel who was not sufficiently maladjusted to be a fruitful subject

for fiction.

After all, the things we do are both more significant and less changing

than our attitude toward our acts. We burn men at the stake to light

a Roman garden, to save the world from the horror of heresy, or to

protect the sanctity of female virtue and assure the supremacy of

the white race, but we burn them always; we fight because arms are

glorious, because the service of God demands the rescue of His holy

sepulcher from the infidel, or because we must make the world safe

for peace, but always we fight; and the most important thing is the

insistent lust of cruelty or the impulse to fight rather than the

rationalization of these motives. So, too, with love. Paphnutius is

harried out of apathy into a state in which he sees visions because of

the temptations of the devil, Milton because God gave Eve to Adam as a

comforter, Shelley because woman is the symbol of the unutterable, and

Shaw (presumably) because only by the process of reproduction can the

Life Force perform its perfectionist experiments; but the resultant

impulses are not so very different. Mr. F. W. Myers once referred to

the procreation of children in these lines:

Lo! When a man magnanimous and tender,

Lo! When a woman desperate and true,

Make the inevitable sweet surrender,

Show one another what the Lord can do,...

but I doubt if the states of mind which called forth these lines and,

say, Swinburne’s Dolores were as different as the verses would suggest

or as the authors imagined. Without going so far as to say that the two

poems are of equal literary merit, one can at least say that they are

almost equally interesting and delightful to the observer of life or

art and that as long as the mystical, the ascetic, the sentimental, and

the biological attitudes toward love continue to exist side by side or

to follow one another in succeeding epochs, the critic will not find

literature either dull or monotonous.

If at the end of a period of twenty-five years during which fiction

has frankly concerned itself to an unusual degree with sex the problem

seems more complicated than ever before, there is no cause for

surprise. Even the specious pretense that a solution has been found

can only be maintained when, as during the Victorian era, the mass of

men agree to assume that no difficulties exist which are not solvable

by that rule of thumb known as the social and moral code, and insist

that sexual battles shall be fought out behind closed doors in life and

between the chapters in books. By dragging them out into public view we

have been able, no doubt, to palliate some of the commoner tragedies

of stupidity. But chiefly we have been upon a voyage of discovery,

and it ought to be evident now, if it has never been evident before,

that we cannot possibly solve the problem because its most important

aspects are not social but human. They have their roots in man’s

ironic predicament between gorilla and angel, a predicament perfectly

typified by the fact that as he grows critical he realizes that love

is at once sublime and obscene and that only by walking a spiritual

tight-rope above the abysses can he be said to live at all in any true

sense. The very fact that the social aspects can to a certain extent

be worked out makes them less interesting and explains the fact that

those novels intended to prove, for example, that the mother of an

illegitimate child may still be within the human pale have come to seem

so unutterably dull. No doubt they “did good,” but like all forms of

useful literature their life was short. By far the most interesting

contemporary writers who deal chiefly with sex are largely concerned

with the individual problem.

Our Changing Morality: A Symposium · 第 6 / 9 段