Analysis of "Ah, The Power of Women"

     My first reaction to "Ah, The Power of Women" (The College Writer, 267-269), Aleah Stenberg's essay on Louise Erdrich's Love Medicine, was that she had taken the position of extreme feminist with the sole intent of glorifying that which a morally conscious person such as myself finds reprehensible (degradation, obscene procreativity) while simultaneously reaching to find justification for her convoluted ideologies, which she has no problem cramming down the collective throats of the reader. She states in paragraph one, "The matriarchal Native American culture depicted by Erdrich provides a setting in which these women can roar." Is this indeed fact? Has Ms. Erdrich provided such a setting, or has Ms. Stenberg just chosen to read into the stories something that does not exist?
     In order to better educate myself that I may more fully answer these questions, I visited books.google.com where I found an abridged version of Love Medicine, and also collections.mnhs.org where I found an article written by Priscilla K. Buffalohead titled "Farmers, Warriors, Traders: A Fresh Look At Ojibway Women." I found nothing in Ms. Buffalohead's article to suggest Chippewa woman "lord it over their male counterparts," as Ms. Stenberg and Ms. Erdrich would have us believe, which leads me to the conclusion that--based solely on Ms. Stenberg's essay and Ms. Erdrich's offering--Ms. Erdrich has romanticized the culture and history of these proud Chippewa women, from whom she is descended.
     I found Ms. Buffalohead's article very informative in that it showcases a reality most of us have only entertained--and to no great extent at that--of the life of a Native American woman on a reservation. Yes, she was in charge of all things domestic, even to the point of deciding how many children she would bear (238), but she never used what "sexual" power might be at her disposal to take "...command of the relationship" (268), or even, as Ms. Stenberg ignorantly points out, to indulge in promiscuity: "Like the arms race of the Cold War, Marie and Lulu also engaged in a race to have the most children. Lulu has many children, all by many fathers." (268-269), and, "Each of (Lulu's) boys and daughter is symbolic of conquering another man," (268).
     While the abridged version of Love Medicine offers no real proof that Ms. Erdrich intentionally set out to emasculate neither the males within the pages of her book nor its male readers, I feel she has relegated men to the position of lap dog and nothing more. Sure, there are times when a man's skills are respected, even revered ("Only real old-time Indians know deer good enough to snare," Gordie said to us. "Your Uncle Eli's a real old-timer." [30], and, "You're the greatest (fisherman) then." [33]), but these compliments come from male characters and are about male characters, and center only around their abilities as hunters, which I find stereotypical to the point of being offensive as the theme this book continually seems to push in regard to men is they are good for two things only, that being sperm donors and providers, and not so much that Chippewa women need the latter.
     I believe any person who bears the absolute burden of domestic affairs deserves to be respected and lauded for their efforts; in all honesty, it should be a joint effort in any cohabitation scenario. The fact that women had been relegated to this with little if any praise in every culture that has ever existed on this planet may have been what inspired Ms. Erdrich to pen her novel as she had, but Ms. Stenberg graciously points out, "...(Erdrich) is able to create powerful characters with dissonant relationships," which in turn graciously drives home the point that this is fiction, and nothing more, and if Ms. Stenberg chooses to base her extreme feminist views on a work of fiction then that says a lot about her mindset.
     As I reach the end of this analysis I must return to the beginning of the essay, the very first line written by Ms. Stenberg: "While most American literature portrays a negative view of women..." (267). American Literature is chock-full of heroines, and it has proven no difficult task in finding them. The Quilter's Apprentice by Jennifer Chiaverini offers us Sarah McClure while Sue Grafton gives us Kinsey Millhouse in J is for Judgement. Anna Pigeon is Nevada Barr's contribution to the strong, positive female role model from her novel Deep South while Patricia Cornwell offers Kay Scarpetta in Unnatural Exposure. Then there are Male writers such as Tim LaHaye and Jerry B. Jenkins who gave us Chloe Steele and Hattie Durham in their Left Behind series, as well as James Patterson, Stephen King, and even me, who ensure our books are filled with strong leading ethnic and female characterizations. With this in mind, I believe it is abundantly clear that how Ms. Stenberg chooses to define "positive view of woman" is based not on their compatability with their male counterparts but their dominance over them.