Heav'n
has no rage, like love to hatred turned,
Nor
hell a fury, like a woman scorned.
For
millennia, the most feared beings in traditionally patriarchal
societies all over the world have been strong angry women. I take as
an example the character of Zara, the Moorish queen in the
Mourning Bride,
a tragedy play written by William Congreve in 1697, about whom the
lines of poetry above were written. We might be more familiar with
the shortened version, “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,”
a usual quip when talking about wives taking vengeful measures
against cheating husbands. Perhaps these famous lines were written at
the time as an homage to vengeful female characters in a plethora of
pieces of literature that preceded it -- mostly written by the
conventionally dominant half of the human population: men.
In
the mythology of the ancient Greeks, there was the vengeful consort
of Zeus, Hera, whom historians painted as a character whose life’s
sole mission was to exterminate the humans her husband hobnobbed
with. In the Hebrew Bible (Old Testament), there was Queen Jezebel,
who made it her life’s mission to propagate her religion among the
people of Israel. In the Christian Bible (New Testament), there was
Herodias, who conspired to behead John the Baptist for repeatedly
questioning the morality of her marriage to King Herod. In medieval
literature, there are those that fall under the wicked stepmother
archetype. Many of which are portrayed in classic Disney princess
films. For example: the Queen in Snow White who was consumed by her
aspirations to become the world’s most beautiful and Cinderella’s
stepmother who would stop at nothing to give her daughters an
opportunity at social advancement. Then, beginning in April 2019, we
will be seeing more of Game of Thrones’ Queen Cersei who only wants
the absolute best for her family.
Are
their actions justifiable? The way they were written, it certainly
doesn’t seem so. However, it is important to understand that,
perhaps with the exception of an illuminated few like George R.R.
Martin and the revisionist Gregory Maguire, most authors write with
absolute biases, including those who chronicled the texts upon which
the world’s most dominant religions are based. It is just sad to
note that when it comes to strong female characters, their vitriol is
more forceful than usual and the romanticism of evil is of a loftier
level than what is normally painted of a male antagonist. Either that
or the consequent social perception of female villains is just extra
hostile. Perhaps both? I suggest when you are introduced to a
relatively well-written antagonist character to look at their motives
and ask yourself whether or not you have the proclivity to take
similar measures if you were put in their position. If I weren’t a
pacifist Quaker and someone who purports to be the messenger of God
repeatedly came to my house to admonish me about the moral legitimacy
of my marriage -- to a King nonetheless -- I don’t know if I would
be adverse to the idea of decapitation.
Let
us now take a look at present realities and the heavily patriarchal
social construct that sadly still exists. Let us take some examples
of how, in the 21st century, the world still bears strong disdain for
women. The United States of America elected a foul-mouthed racist
with a track record of sexual misconduct over a person who sent a few
shady emails. Saudi Arabia jailed an advocate for the abolition of
the Kingdom’s law on male guardianship. Israel detained a child for
slapping a soldier who barged into her home unwelcome. The
Philippines jailed the most vocal critic of its president’s deadly
war on the poor. The views on the veracity of their claim to
righteousness are vastly divided, but one thing they share in common
is a vagina. And this world, as it is, seems to be deathly afraid of
that.
In
this article’s title are two Spanish loanwords very commonly used
in the colloquial form of the Cebuano language to refer to strong
women who refuse to be steered around by the whims of the
male-dominated society they live in. Maldita,
estricta.
Whether
they are homemakers, teachers, corporate workers, civil servants,
entrepreneurs, politicians, single, married or what-have-you, one
will more often than not hear a woman described as such if she
doesn’t fit the mold of demureness and subservience that society’s
box has set for her. It has been used countless times to refer to
women in my maternal family, which is dominated by strong women. Case
in point: my mother, Liza Migriño Quirog, a brilliant civil servant,
has been nicknamed “the Dragon” for her resolute firmness in
ensuring that things are done correctly under her watch. She is
unwavering and determined -- qualities that are normally seen as
admirable in men, even if they do not have amiable personalities. And
yet because my mother is of the opposite gender, she is called
maldita,
estricta.
Of
late, mama has come to embrace the dragon title, perhaps reinforced
by her admiration for Game of Thrones’ Daenerys Targaryen, and she
is no longer bothered by the idea that, behind her back, she is not
always positively spoken about. She puts a premium on doing things
right rather than people’s opinion of her, with the acknowledgement
that she has built a credible name for herself in her line of work.
She is a titanium wall to be reckoned with and she does not operate
at the mercy of those who do not know any better. She is lucky in
that sense, I suppose.
Others
are not as fortunate. While many women in public service have taken
it upon themselves to adjust to social expectations of agreeability
even if it pains them, I know a lot who, like my mother, simply
refuse to be fake. They have a strong passion to serve but they
refuse to develop a false facade of geniality and it has very sadly
proven to be a threat to their work. Pureza Veloso Chatto, a talented
public official, the mayor of the Municipality of Balilihan who has,
for the last three and a half years, served the town faithfully and
ably, has recently become the recipient of a myriad of attacks. Most
of them are false accusations on her abilities as a leader, but a
large chunk is an assault on her refusal to conform to the norm of
being perpetually smiley and nice. Again, a litany which can be
summarised as maldita,
estricta.
While the president of the country enjoys an enduringly forgiving
cult-like posse of people who laugh at his foul jokes, ignore his
tyranny, and turn a blind eye on his absolutely despicable public
behaviour and proven inability to keep his campaign promises, even as
the nation’s head of state, this simple and very able town mayor
draws flak simply for refusing to smile on a hot day. And yet people
say they admire Duterte for being real. What a tragic irony.
My
two cents’ worth: Being maldita,
estricta,
as long as it does not constitute violence, should be embraced if
they serve as effective step-ladders for women on their way to
carving names for themselves in a heavily patriarchal society. Forget
the critics. Kindness is important, but being nice against one’s
own will is self-destructive. As long as one operates with decency,
dignity and honesty, forced niceties are nothing but frills. You do
you, girls!
Happy
International Women’s Day to all the maldita,
estricta
women
all over the world who are doing the best to succeed in this unkind
and unforgiving world unfairly run by men. I salute you.
