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arthistamine 's review for:
Freedom
by Jonathan Franzen
Despite the rampant misogyny in Freedom, I can take solace in the notion that Jonathan Franzen seems to despise D.C. and its out of touch denizens as much as I do sometimes.
I mostly kid. This is my first Franzen novel, I was sucked in at the beginning and made it through the first half in the first day I picked it up. The second half I pushed through the rest in the past week, still enjoying the experience of reading Freedom but also feeling bogged down by its jam-packed dialogue and repetitive feelings. I’m left feeling impressed and even moved by the depth of relation and emotion in the marriage and familial ties in Freedom. I teared up at the reconciliation at the end, mainly for the way that the books main theme and title, comes to be the antithesis of independence and the concept that one person can have sovereignty over pain.
The hard part of this book is the incessant misogyny that rules the way that men and women relate to one another in the book. I think it’s more symptomatic and than a shortcoming so it shouldn’t keep the discerning reader away.
Misogyny operates on two levels. The first is superficial and a narrative device, found in the explicit references to how women and their desires are sidelined in order to advance the aims of men. Some characters are even presented as somewhat justified in their misogyny, Richard Katz being one of them. His indifference to the complexity of women is given traction is how every woman acts a little insane and neurotic around him. Walter’s seeming love and care for womankind is juxtaposed to the callousness of Richard Katz and the harshness of his father towards his meek mother. And it is seen as a weakness by Patty, Richard, and others exploited by women looking to get an edge over the other women in Walter’s life, like Carols flirting.
There’s a more pernicious level to the misogyny in Freedom can be found in the way that depression is approached in each of the characters. Depression (alongside “freedom”) is one of the other major themes and holds a lot of explanatory power. It’s hard to find one character in Freedom that is not dealing with some sort of debilitating depression. It could broadly be diagnosed as a kind of almost and new millennium disorder where the sins of the 20th century and the tragedies of the first decade of the 21st hit at every level. But Franzen also goes into the ways that depression affects the characters individually.
The thing is, when men have depression in Freedom, the causes are always explained by systematic and cultural factors. Richard Katz’s is epigenetic, Walter’s is the rejection of a kind of Scandinavian immigrant stoicism and later deep double-pronged grief. Their depression is a *rational* response to the backwards ways that humans have decided are okay for living.
As for women’s depression, it is ineffable, inexplicable, and unknowable. Patty, who is for all intents and purposes Freedom’s protagonist and gives the most shape to how depression might affect one’s actions and relationships, gives no insight into why her depression is given reign over her direction. Connie is described as almost automaton like in her devotion and attention towards Joey. Even Patty’s mother, a Jewish woman who abandoned her upbringing to try to make a political career, cops out when asked directly to explain why her experience with depression might have led to her emotional neglect of her most well-adjusted child, Patty. And when Joey’s depression is discussed it is seen as an inheritance from his mother and as such, irrational, sinful, and something to be shut away.
The problem with this dynamic is that depression doesn’t need to have a rationale and it doesn’t need to be explained. To give male characters a fighting chance at overcoming their depression because it can be tied to the world, Freedom leaves its women characters untethered from the march of progress, from making strides toward building a better future. Hell, Franzen even kills off the one female character that’s solely dedicated to making the world a better place.
I mostly kid. This is my first Franzen novel, I was sucked in at the beginning and made it through the first half in the first day I picked it up. The second half I pushed through the rest in the past week, still enjoying the experience of reading Freedom but also feeling bogged down by its jam-packed dialogue and repetitive feelings. I’m left feeling impressed and even moved by the depth of relation and emotion in the marriage and familial ties in Freedom. I teared up at the reconciliation at the end, mainly for the way that the books main theme and title, comes to be the antithesis of independence and the concept that one person can have sovereignty over pain.
The hard part of this book is the incessant misogyny that rules the way that men and women relate to one another in the book. I think it’s more symptomatic and than a shortcoming so it shouldn’t keep the discerning reader away.
Misogyny operates on two levels. The first is superficial and a narrative device, found in the explicit references to how women and their desires are sidelined in order to advance the aims of men. Some characters are even presented as somewhat justified in their misogyny, Richard Katz being one of them. His indifference to the complexity of women is given traction is how every woman acts a little insane and neurotic around him. Walter’s seeming love and care for womankind is juxtaposed to the callousness of Richard Katz and the harshness of his father towards his meek mother. And it is seen as a weakness by Patty, Richard, and others exploited by women looking to get an edge over the other women in Walter’s life, like Carols flirting.
There’s a more pernicious level to the misogyny in Freedom can be found in the way that depression is approached in each of the characters. Depression (alongside “freedom”) is one of the other major themes and holds a lot of explanatory power. It’s hard to find one character in Freedom that is not dealing with some sort of debilitating depression. It could broadly be diagnosed as a kind of almost and new millennium disorder where the sins of the 20th century and the tragedies of the first decade of the 21st hit at every level. But Franzen also goes into the ways that depression affects the characters individually.
The thing is, when men have depression in Freedom, the causes are always explained by systematic and cultural factors. Richard Katz’s is epigenetic, Walter’s is the rejection of a kind of Scandinavian immigrant stoicism and later deep double-pronged grief. Their depression is a *rational* response to the backwards ways that humans have decided are okay for living.
As for women’s depression, it is ineffable, inexplicable, and unknowable. Patty, who is for all intents and purposes Freedom’s protagonist and gives the most shape to how depression might affect one’s actions and relationships, gives no insight into why her depression is given reign over her direction. Connie is described as almost automaton like in her devotion and attention towards Joey. Even Patty’s mother, a Jewish woman who abandoned her upbringing to try to make a political career, cops out when asked directly to explain why her experience with depression might have led to her emotional neglect of her most well-adjusted child, Patty. And when Joey’s depression is discussed it is seen as an inheritance from his mother and as such, irrational, sinful, and something to be shut away.
The problem with this dynamic is that depression doesn’t need to have a rationale and it doesn’t need to be explained. To give male characters a fighting chance at overcoming their depression because it can be tied to the world, Freedom leaves its women characters untethered from the march of progress, from making strides toward building a better future. Hell, Franzen even kills off the one female character that’s solely dedicated to making the world a better place.