Let
me begin this review by explaining what Daphne de Marneffe’s Maternal Desire: On Children Love, and the Inner Life is
not. It's not a highbrow attempt to discredit the motives, values
or emotional capacity of mothers who work outside the home. It is
not, primarily, about the importance of sensitive maternal attachment
to the healthy growth and development of infants and children. It
is not anti-feminist. Nor is it (mercifully) a literate retread
of romantic stereotypes of maternal devotion. At its best,
Maternal Desire is a deeply intelligent and thought-provoking
work on how the practice and process of mothering children can bring
us closer to an authentic sense of self.
De Marneffe describes
maternal desire as a profound need to have physical and emotional
contact with one’s children— an urgent, spontaneous
drive she compares to sexual desire. Mothers yearn not just to have
children, she argues; they want to care for them, too—
up close and personal. When we respect and respond to the felt need
to care for our children, de Marneffe suggests, we substantiate our innermost reality
and assert our potential to live as our fullest selves. This
kind of talk will sound like a no-brainer to women who connect with
the powerful emotional traction of maternal desire as a matter of
course. Those who’ve enjoyed more sporadic encounters with
what de Marneffe refers to as “maternal pleasure” might
be tempted to dismiss Maternal Desire as little more than
an educated elaboration of the idealization of motherhood as the
be-all and end-all of feminine self-expression.
But de Marneffe’s
purpose is to uncover the rarer stuff of maternal experience—
a landslide of complex and often conflicting feelings that bears
little resemblance to the popular ideal of motherly love. By attempting
to explain how motherhood transforms a woman’s understanding
of herself and her relationship to the world from the standpoint
of psychology rather than ideology, de Marneffe moves into fascinating
and largely unstudied territory.
As Jane Swigart writes
in The Myth of the Perfect Mother (1998), when “we
approach the intimate relationship between mother and child, our
attention tends to swerve away from ourselves to the child.”
If mothers often fail to appreciate the centrality of their own
subjectivity in the relational work of mothering, they are not alone.
Numerous clinical studies suggest that a certain quality of maternal
sensitivity and attachment enhances the emotional “security”
of infants and toddlers, but few are designed to elicit greater
insight into how the practice of mothering affects the emotional
growth and development of the mother herself. This undermines the
credibility of de Marneffe’s hypothesis to some extent, since—
inexcusably, but predictably — authoritative studies on motherhood as a psychological event simply don’t exist. This leaves Maternal
Desire insufficiently equipped to supply definitive answers about
how and why motherhood changes the lives of women who mother, but
de Marneffe’s most important contribution is giving us an idea of where to start looking.
While de Marneffe’s
theory of maternal desire clearly originates from a feminist perspective,
she devotes the first third of her book to critiquing feminism’s
valorization of paid employment as the one true path to women’s
freedom and happiness. She contends that by representing paid work
as a prerequisite for self-fulfillment, liberal feminists contributed to the devaluation
of care-giving and further obscured the role the psychological process of
mothering plays in the formation of the mother’s mature identity.
Assailing feminism for spawning the cultural contradictions of motherhood
is pretty much de rigueur for the new band of serious mother/writers,
and not without reason (however, let’s not forget that women’s
care work was socially and economically devalued long before second
wave feminists took a crack at it). De Marneffe’s assertion
that some feminists downplay the possibility that elements
of maternal experience may actually promote women’s self-actualization
carries a bit more weight -- although it must be noted that almost
all of the existing literature aimed at advancing our understanding
of the quality and meaning of maternal experience is the direct
product of feminist scholarship. Given how readily the general
culture has absorbed the proposition that motherhood puts an end
to the most cherished aspects of a woman’s distinctive personhood—
autonomy, spontaneity, sexual and intellectual curiosity, self-awareness,
personal and creative ambition— it’s easy to mistrust
the inner voice that tells us motherhood can also be the beginning
of something genuinely worth longing for. According to de Marneffe,
if we hope to get the most out of life, love and work, we need to
sit still and start listening.
As a clinical psychologist,
de Marneffe’s writing is most effective when she surveys familiar
ground— the evolving emotional dynamics of the relationship
between mother and child. The potential to experience deep and abiding
joy in mothering, she reasons, depends on a mother’s willingness
to confront and live mindfully with the emotional conflicts and
ambivalence that flow from the routine interactions of day-to-day
care-giving. Although de Marneffe’s book gives rather short
shrift to the influence of temperament and anxiety on women's satisfaction in the maternal role, she admits in an
interview with Salon.com that the most delectable moments of
maternal pleasure may be more accessible to mothers who have easy-going,
cooperative children. Apart from encouraging women to get in touch
with the gestalt of motherhood for their own good and for the sake
of their children, the core message of Maternal Desire is that mothering— in all its complexity— can be integral
to discovering a more complete sense of who we are and who we want
to become. In de Marneffe’s enlightened vision, motherhood
is not an oppressive trap that prevents us from inhabiting our truest
selves, but an unparalleled opportunity to experience the emotional
richness of our lives in connection to others whom we love and wish
to care for.
Maternal Desire is not unflawed. De Marneffe has a knack for generalizing her
own experience with a confidence that defies the standards of formal
scholarship, and some of her points of reference seem arcane and
tangential. The overall tone of the book is profoundly intellectual
and occasionally metaphysical, which may discourage casual readers
from continuing beyond the first few chapters— and that would
be a shame, because de Marneffe’s later chapters on the personal
meaning of infertility, fatherhood and abortion are exceptional.
And while de Marneffe cannot be faulted for the proclivities of
certain ideologues and backward journalists who delight in
twisting the realities of contemporary motherhood every which way,
there is the nasty little problem that the whole concept of maternal
desire invites willful misinterpretation as proof that feminism was a bad idea from the get-go— and mothers
might as well follow their hearts right out of the workforce, because
they can’t possibly do justice to a demanding job if they’re
aching to be at home with their kids.
But sometimes, we do
ache to be with our children. And sometimes, we long for
quiet, order, privacy and enough uninterrupted time to string
our thoughts and feelings together in a way that makes sense. We want all the satisfaction
of striving to reach our highest potential on our own terms, and
all the joys of sustained intimacy. We crave separateness, and fusion.
We want to care for others and to be cared for by others. And sometimes—
maybe most of the time— we feel all these things at once. The paradox is not that the lived experience of motherhood
gives rise to such a wild range of conflicting emotions; it's that we’ve been sandbagged into believing— by both
traditional and feminist ideology— that it could ever be any
other way.
The outing of maternal
desire is bound to resonate with millions of mothers who can verify
its existence with their own steady pulse of love and longing. Others
residing in the more ambivalent regions of motherhood will persist
in calling out false consciousness and the power of ideology
to mold our intuition about what is good and meaningful in human
relationships. And perhaps this is precisely the intersection of
thought and feeling where an earnest discourse on the complicated
nature of maternal psychology must begin.
Judith
Stadtman Tucker
April 2004 |