Originally Written for American Women Writers at Emerson College, taught by Dr. Shannon Derby
To many scholars, Wendy Wasserstein is controversial. Both she and her plays, Uncommon Women and Others and The Heidi Chronicles, are placed in the feminist crossroads of the second wave: not-quite the specific political fight of the first wave, nor the misshapen societal movement of the third wave (Grady). Her commercial success, her typical realistic comedy format, her stereotyped characters, and her unwillingness to make direct political statements within her work, all provoke critics to question her feminist identity and the good her plays do (Dolan). Second-wave feminism’s goals were broad, but it was very much centered around the problems of white, middle class women—leaving marginalized groups to create their own “fringe” movements. So, white, Yale graduate, Wasserstein was seen to be the figurehead for this centralized feminism (Chirico 194). Furthermore, despite these middle class issues, the media coverage often reduced it to be the movement of reckless youths, interested in promiscuity-aka-birth-control, bra burning, and unshaven legs (all of which are referenced in Wasserstein’s plays). Wasserstein was criticized for these various mainstream flaws within her work—questioned about her validity as a feminist scholar—and yet, each of these “flaws” play integral parts in her importance, and the way in which she comments on second-wave feminism (Shih 213). With writing placed directly in this cultural confusion and academic critique, Wasserstein makes the purposeful, academic choice to raise the question of what it means to be a feminist: she uses the movement-within-the-text in relation to her format, her settings, and her characters to critique the inherent issues of real-life second-wave feminism, and provide a then-new option of options.
Wasserstein was the first woman playwright to reach broad commercial success. The Heidi Chronicles, which debuted on Broadway, won the Pulitzer Prize and a Tony. As Jill Dolan points out, Wasserstein, “had all the qualifications” to reach this success, and she knew what she could accomplish in this space. While, to academics “mainstream” actually just meant bad, Wasserstein used her platform to reach a breadth in viewership that indie, “real feminist” theatre couldn’t. In choosing a format that was accessible to “normal” women—in which she meant women like her (Shih)—she could offer them representation and feminist ideas that they might not have known, unlike the “real” plays which would have only been known by people already in that ideology and scene. So too, Wasserstein could take on both a satirical tone towards stereotypes of second-wave feminism, and an honest storyline of what it felt like to be a woman of this era. Through her commercial success, she mimicked the like of The Feminine Mystique; both were critiqued for their shallow and exlusionary look at feminism, but succeeded in spreading entry-level feminist ideas to the masses.
Although Wasserstein was accessible to those without a feminist literacy, she used her plays to reference real-life pieces of the feminist movement. This both signals her feminist ideology and participation, as well as providing a backdrop for seasoned feminists who could participate with and find deeper meaning. With scene settings and other direct allusions, she crafts a world in the plays in which feminism is the context to her characters’ lives. Wasserstein’s earliest play, Uncommon Women and Others, is set mostly at a college for women, where we meet her undergraduate characters. In a literal reading, this is very similar to the school Wasserstein attended for her bachelor’s degree, and she likely drew inspiration from it. However, this setting also provided a perfect backdrop in which she could portray her characters’ confusion and unease about their beliefs as they transition into the “real world.” So too, it gives audiences an opportunity to see the complex questions and anxieties that feminism raises in women who are experiencing the movement:
Betty Friedan discovers that to cast off the feminine mystique is difficult due to the temptation that it provides women with security and a stable identity. Compared with the women who need to create new identities by themselves after graduation, the identity through marriage is easily got. (Shih 215).
While the play is narrated mostly by “Man’s Voice” (intended to be the president or dean of the college), this women’s college creates an environment where the women are able to clearly realize when they’re being influenced by men (Shih 214). We see this through conversations the characters have with each other about things their male professors said (Wasserstein 24), through their song about “saving [them]selves for Yale” (Wasserstein 45), and through their conversations about or with offscreen love interests (Wasserstein 61-63, among others). By creating a setting in which the so-called male gaze, or male voice, is an obviously separate entity, Wasserstein has given her “uncommon women” the chance to interact with each other honestly. In scene 7 of the play, we are at the college, and the set directions are “Holly is filling a diaphragm with Orthocreme” (Wasserstein 32). This both sets up this exact type of honest conversation that is impossible to execute when men are around, and alludes to real-life feminsit debates. In March of 1972, the year this scene takes place, “Eisenstadt v. Baird overturned laws that restricted unmarried persons’ access to contraception” (Napikoski). By showing a young woman making use of this new freedom, portraying the character as responsible and educated, and showing the character’s friends in support of her, Wasserstein is making a direct attack on many of the arguments against contraception.
While Wasserstein made impact with her choice of a women’s college as context in Uncommon Women and Others, as she developed her skill, she was able to use a breadth of settings to allude to feminist ideals within The Heidi Chronicles. The play opens on our title character, Heidi, a middle-aged professor, giving a lecture at Columbia University on women artists. This lecture-hall setting is repeated a few times throughout the play, and each time it portrays this character as what we expect a successful feminist to look like. Heidi is an acclaimed professor, teaching a seemingly-feminist version of art history, and she’s shaping the young minds of tomorrow. Yet, Wasserstein repeatedly uses these settings as contrast points to the ones placed directly after our images of Heidi-as-a-success/Heidi-as-a-feminist. The scene directly after our first look at Heidi in the prologue of act one is of her at a high school dance, and then we follow her through the ‘60’s and ‘70’s as she develops this ideology we first meet her with. In scene 3, Heidi is at a sort-of feminist support group, where the setting pushes us to compare our main character to those around her—those more and less “feminist” around her. So too, the scene provides commentary on the real-world, just as Uncommon Women did. In this meeting, “Respect” by Aretha Franklin is playing, which came out in 1967, and it closes with the characters singing along to the chorus. Of course, this is a popular song of the time, so it fits into the scene naturally. But by having characters only sing the chorus, it also seems to comment on how white/mainstream feminists of the time ignore the history and needs of black feminists, like Aretha Franklin—they only want to pay attention to the easy and catchy parts. Wasserstein was repeatedly criticized for having white-washed plays and casts, so this implication showcases her awareness of mainstream feminism’s limited world view.
Right after this scene, we see Heidi at a protest in front of the Chicago Art Institute, protesting to get more women artists into the museum. While this setting does give us insight to Heidi’s opinions, what’s more interesting is the allusion to the work of Guerrilla Girls that was popular at the time of production, but wasn’t yet founded when this scene takes place (1974, the group was founded in 1985). The Guerrilla Girls is an anonymous group of, “feminist activist artists…to expose gender and ethnic bias as well as corruption in politics, art, film, and pop culture” (Guerrilla). By creating this allusion within her play, and setting up a possibility where Heidi could have been a part of the group later in life, Wasserstein clearly shows the politics she followed and gives feminist audiences a sort-of inside joke to participate in. The same pattern repeats in act two: a prologue in a lecture hall and a following interview scene on a TV set in which Heidi is overshadowed by her male friends, directly pointing out the problem of men overshadowing women, speaking for women, or ignoring them completely (Wasserstein 216-219). While the setting in Uncommon Women is used to support and encourage the characters, the settings in The Heidi Chronicles are used to force readers to recognize that feminists aren’t just one single entity or end-point. The settings show us that, as much as Heidi is what we would define as a feminist at her lectures in 1989 (she doesn’t ever name herself that), she has important and progressive thoughts or opinions when she’s not the stereotyped or “end-goal” feminist. Wasserstein even makes a pointed comment on the importance of women’s camaraderie and support, by having many of her scenes end with the women walking off set, “with their arms around each other” (72). All these scene settings support the idea that Wasserstein wasn’t just a commercially successful playwright, she was also an active and aware participant of the feminist movement, who knew how to critique and shape opinion with her work to make a tangible difference.
Where format and setting provide context, shape storylines, and suggest Wasserstein’s politics, at the very center of her work are her characters (Shih). While some playwrights use characters as symbols or as a means to an end, Wasserstein uses these women to portray just what they are: women with different backgrounds, goals, and thoughts. Moreover, Wasserstein flips the script on the patriarchal canon and uses men (if present at all) as foils for her women, rather than the other way around. From her stereotypes like Rita and Samantha; to her not-quite-here, not-quite-there characters like Kate and Heidi, Wasserstein showcases how feminism interacts with the individual.
Wasserstein can be, and has been, criticized for the way in which she writes characters that exist in her own world. She has said that she writes so people like herself can see themselves on the stage (Dolan). As such, when critics view her stereotyped characters, they often say it’s done out of laziness or inability to write diversely. However, each of her stereotypes are purposeful integrations to show the breadth in different versions of feminism there are. While there are multiple “radical” feminist characters throughout her plays, for our purposes we’ll talk about Rita. Rita is an eccentric college feminist that is constantly trying to fit into what she percieves feminism to mean. Throughout Uncommon Women, she tries her own menstrual blood (Wasserstein 37), breaks the silence about masturbation (Wasserstein 38), considers the phallic symbols in society (Wasserstein 34), talks about men the way men talk about women (Wasserstein 33), and goes on various other mini-rants about feminist ideology (Wasserstein 65). In each of these examples, the audience and readers laugh over the stereotype of this character, and yet, Rita is not characterized to be a villain, like many stereotyped feminists are. She is bubbly, likeable, and supports her friends; it’s obvious she’s a good person, and it’s obvious that she’s just trying to fit into (what has been portrayed as) what a feminist is supposed to look like. She’s figuring it out. One of her repeat lines is: “when we’re [thirty, thirty-five] forty, we’ll be incredible” (Wasserstein 12). Rita knows that she is a developing person, and as much as she is excited to create this identity, she expects that it’ll be strengthened and better-understood when she’s older. Just as Rita is the stereotyped feminist, Samantha is the stereotyped “good girl”: she’s from the midwest; by the end of her senior year at college, she’s to be married (Wasserstein 65)—a “stay at home wife”—and by the end of the play she announces a pregnancy (Wasserstein 74)—an implied perfect “mother-woman,” to reference Kate Chopin. Samantha’s the traditional ideal, and yet, she spends the play in support of her friends and their decisions. Just as Wasserstein refuses to make “radical” the villain, she doesn’t make “traditional” the condescending.
In Wasserstein’s decision to let these two seemingly-opposite stereotypes co-exist as friends at the same college, in the same group of “uncommon women,” she makes the point that both of these options are as valid as the other. So too, just as much as they’re written stereotypes, they still feel like real people. Audiences read them and know women like them, rather than being completely detail-less symbols or motifs. And with that realism she can obtain through her format, Wasserstein offers the idea that being stereotypical or mainstream doesn’t mean you’re bad (perhaps a foreshadowing comment on academic critique of mainstream work). Even today, marginalized individuals are often criticized for being too stereotypical—for promoting stereotypes—even if avoiding the stereotype would be dishonest to themselves. A gay man may be critiqued for being too feminine, a black woman for being too loud or angry. By making these stereotypes both realistic and welcomed, Wasserstein makes a direct statement that all of these women have equally valid identities and are equally worthy of being categorized as feminist.
Just as Wasserstein portrays the option of being steadfast in one’s beliefs, she showcases characters who are still developing or questioning their beliefs. In Uncommon Women, the best representation of this multitudinal unsteady-ness is found in Kate. She has had her career-woman life planned out—to be a successful lawyer—and she seems to be the perfect feminist example of women “making it” in the workplace. She engages in interesting feminist discussions, “penis envy” for example (Wasserstein 57). And yet, throughout the story, she shows her fears and anxieties surrounding her choice and meeting the expectations held of an “uncommon woman.” In a monologue to Carter, Kate says:
“I’m afraid that I’m so directed that I’ll grow up to be a cold efficient lady in a gray business suit. Suddenly, there I’ll be, an Uncommon Woman ready to meet the future with steadiness, gaiety, and a profession, and, what’s more, I’ll organize it all with time to blowdry my hair every morning… If I didn’t fulfill obligations or weren’t exemplary, then I really don’t know what I’d do” (Wasserstein 56).
She’s questioning three things here: the idea and possibility of “having it all,” the pressure put on women to attain “having it all” or else they won’t be feminists, and finally, as Shih points out, the double standard of being pushed into a career-woman identity, only to be faced with the stigma of that position (215). We as the audience wouldn’t expect someone like Kate to hold these fears and expectations (even though many of us have them ourselves), and by showing it, Wasserstein allows us to recognize ourselves in Kate’s fears and identity. Kate is portrayed to be a feminist, but Wasserstein doesn’t force her into a mold that doesn’t fit, like those which Rita takes on or Samantha finds comfort in.
As Kate questions her place as a career-woman, Wasserstein gives us Heidi, in The Heidi Chronicles, who questions her identity as a feminist. Heidi repeatedly interacts with feminist thought, and yet, she often removes herself from the so-called wave, even contradicting our feminist-stereotype character, Fran, and calling herself a “humanist” (Wasserstein 180). Heidi is placed in this play as being the sort-of “rational” feminist, and she becomes both a critique on the irrationality of some second-wave thought (“Either you shave your legs or you don’t” [Wasserstein 180]), and on the idea of looking down on other feminists for portraying it differently. Throughout the play, Heidi becomes more enthralled in the feminist identity and more accepting of other versions of it (including the flawed versions of her male counterparts, Scoop and Peter, and the radicalized versions like that which Fran holds). On the very next page, she recognizes that her “Humanist” comment had been diminutive. She says: “I hope our daughters never feel like us. I hope all our daughters feel so fucking worthwhile. Do you promise that we can accomplish that much, Fran?” (Wasserstein 182). Heidi ends the play fulfilling this promise, as she adopts a daughter to raise with her ideals. As mentioned earlier, we first meet Heidi as a successful professor, and it would have been infinitely easier for Wasserstein to have her be a perfect and developed feminist throughout the entire play. And yet, Wasserstein chose to show us Heidi’s progression into her own thoughts, opinions, and values, all of which are unique to her and don’t conform to those around her, while still not diminishing them for their choices. By showing these two uncertain women to us, Wasserstein gives her audience permission to question their own decisions and the world around them. These women, just as her stereotyped women did, and just as Wasserstein herself did, show us that there’s no one way to be a feminist, no matter what yes-or-no checkboxes second-wave feminism was portraying then.
In Wasserstein’s format, settings, and characters, she shows us both that participation in feminism is not a duality and that she deserves the title of feminist scholar. At the time, Wasserstein was often excluded from the feminist movement because of her success, so she created worlds where uncommon women were allowed to participate. Wasserstein may have created plays that weren’t as inclusive as they “should” have been; she might have portrayed stereotypes. But the act of doing so—of creating successful plays about women—was important in and of itself, and she hoped that, eventually, she wouldn’t have to carry the judgement of representing all women (Shih). While one of second-wave feminism’s main goals was the idea of freedom of choice, the thought that there are many ways to partake in and interact with feminism didn’t arrive until the intersectional ideal of the third-wave. One single feminism isn’t good enough, and Wendy Wasserstein taught that to her audiences before it was mainstream.
Works Cited
Chirico, Miriam. “Reading the Plays of Wendy Wasserstein.” Theatre History Studies, 2012, p. 194. EBSCOhost, search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=edsglr&AN=edsgcl.306241395&site=eds-live.
Dolan, Jill. “Feminist Performance Criticism and the Popular: Reviewing Wendy Wasserstein.” Theatre Journal, vol. 60 no. 3, 2008, pp. 433-457. Project MUSE, doi:10.1353/tj.0.0059
Grady, Constance. “The Waves of Feminism, and Why People Keep Fighting over Them, Explained.” Vox, Vox, 20 July 2018, www.vox.com/2018/3/20/16955588/feminism-waves-explained-first-second-third-fourth.
“Guerrilla Girls.” Guerrilla Girls, www.guerrillagirls.com/.
Napikoski, Linda. “Highlights of the Women’s Rights Movement of the 1970s.” ThoughtCo, ThoughtCo, 8 Aug. 2019, www.thoughtco.com/1970s-feminism-timeline-3528911.
Shih, Yi-Chin. “Uncommon Women’s Dilemmas in Wendy Wasserstein’s Quasi-Trilogy.” International Journal of Applied Linguistics and English Literature, vol. 7, no. 4, 2018, p. 213., doi:10.7575/aiac.ijalel.v.7n.4p.213.
Wasserstein, Wendy. The Heidi Chronicles and Other Plays. Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1990.