It’s
a long-standing paradox in the matter of man not being able to understand
women. Whether it is due in part to our
mysterious nature, wide range of emotions, or, in the case of The Monstrous
Feminine article, our reproductive capabilities, women have eternally held
a paradigm over men’s heads that leaves them incapable of understanding their
counterparts entirely (the same can be said vice versa, however that’s another
conversation). Roman Polanski’s film Rosemary’s Baby perfectly encapsulates
all these mysteries women hold in both its story line and characters. In a very blunt and assertive manner, the
film makes it clear that Rosemary is an object subject to the male gaze and the
curiosities towards women’s bodies that come along with it.
At
the beginning of the film, Rosemary is your typical subservient housewife;
raised Catholic, she is entirely devout to doting on her husband, eager to have
a baby, and forever playing into the perfect image of domesticity. In this light, she is easiest for the (white)
male audience at the time of the film’s release to recognize and therefore
interpret to the point of where is she is null and void of any potential
“danger”. Rosemary’s agency also lies in
the hands of her husband, Guy (how much more literal can you get?). The two first get involved with the Castevets
due to the fact that neither of them ever say what they are truly thinking to
each other, leading Guy to reluctantly agree to going to dinner with the old
couple. Roman uses method of persuasion
(mainly flattery and the promise of success) to coerce Guy into joining the
coven and handing over Rosemary, placing her body as an object that is simply
up for trade for the purpose of its reproductive capabilities.
In
her article, “The Monstrous Feminine:
Woman as Witch”, Barbara Creed notes that women are “…often associated with
the powers of magic…because of their mysterious ability to create new life”. In
this sense, the audience can practically place Rosemary as a witch by the time
of her impregnation, as she has both demonstrated the aforementioned mysterious
ability and furthermore copulated “…with the devil, causing male impotence…”
(Creed). At this point in the film,
Rosemary is a threat to the male gaze.
After she becomes pregnant with the devil’s child, due to a ceremony in
which Satan rapes her, Guy displays no interest for his wife in her
deteriorating state. He draws back at
her touch, and makes remarks towards her appearance (mainly her fresh new pixie
cut).
Rosemary is no longer identifiable to a male
audience, and therefore presents a threat.
It is interesting that the start of this transgression began at the
moment in the film where Rosemary admits to Minnie that it is the first day of
the former’s period, a mention that the latter happily (and almost immediately)
meets with the gift of the charm filled with tannis root, something that both
physically and symbolically links Rosemary to the coven. This sequence of events in the film gives
meaning to Creed’s mention in her article that, “In some horror film’s the
witch’s supernatural powers are linked to the female reproductive system –
particularly menstruation” (Creed). Rosemary’s
body in this way sets off the series of events that ultimately transpire to her
image becoming one that presents danger, speculation, and awe to the male gaze
while simultaneously speaking to castration anxiety (in part by Guy).
Communicated
through both Rosemary’s body, including her appearance and reproductive
capabilities, and the character dynamics and relations, Polanski practically
admits to Hollywood’s misunderstandings and fears that it holds towards
women. He goes so far to suggest that
these mysteries of the female body can turn one into a fearful creature, as the
audience witnesses Rosemary gobbling up raw meat. This transformation from the docile housewife
represents not only the disparities between men understanding women at the time
of the film’s release, but is also reflective of the fears and anxieties men
experienced as women broke free from their trope roles and actively sought to
be something other than an accessory to their husband.
Works Cited
Creed, Barbara. The Monstrous-Feminine. London: Routledge, 1993. Print.
Shannon, I like your application of Woman as Witch to Rosemary, especially your observation that the film views Rosemary as perfect and demure until she becomes pregnant. The audience is not supposed to like Guy (he's just not a very likeable character) but we're definitely supposed to see Rosemary the same way he does: as a vesicle that holds the spawn of Satan -- and she quickly becomes less desirable. I like your idea that when we can put Rosemary in a box, we can easily handle her, because she's not a threat. She becomes a threat when she becomes something mysterious and uncontrollable. I like how well-written, well-researched, and gif-filled this post is.
ReplyDeleteCierra