MADNESS NARRATIVES AND THE REALITY OF MADNESS

Psychology of Women Quarterly, 27 (2003), 347–356. Blackwell Publishing. Printed in the USA.
C 2003 Division 35, American Psychological Association. 0361-6843/03
Copyright REVIEWS
MADNESS NARRATIVES AND THE REALITY
OF MADNESS
Questions of Power: The Politics of Women’s Madness Narratives. SUSAN J. HUBERT. Newark, DE: University
of Delaware Press, 2002. 192 pp., $39.50 (hardcover),
ISBN 0-97413-743-8.
Susan J. Hubert’s Questions of Power: The Politics of Women’s
Madness Narratives is a compelling and scholarly account of the
many witty, sane, deeply philosophical, sometimes daring, sometimes too dutiful, but always fascinating narratives. This should be
required reading not only for English and History majors but for
psychiatrists and mental health professionals. I was riveted, fascinated, horrified, entertained—and I already knew many, if not
most of Hubert’s narrators. Thus, I got a chance to visit with some
old friends, but I also saw some ghosts.
The very month that I received this book, a feminist colleague
sent me a manuscript about her years of involuntary psychiatric
hospitalization from 1975–2000. She does not deny that she has
had “breaks with reality.” Nevertheless, her self-perceived impairment made her involuntary commitment more—not less—
traumatic, as did the awful effects of psychiatric medication, and
other indignities of institutional life.
And, a lawyer asked me whether I would be willing to testify
for the second time on behalf of female psychiatric patients in the
state of Nebraska who have routinely been raped while in custody (by other patients and by staff), and who were first mocked,
then punished for “telling; ” the punishment included being straitjacketed, sedated, put into seclusion, and into four-point restraints.
They were also punitively diagnosed for exhibiting the symptoms
of Rape Trauma Syndrome. These rapes did not only happen
in the 1890s (similar “vicious rapes” were reported by Clarissa
Lathrop [1890] whose work Hubert discusses). They occurred in
the 1990s and in 2001.
There is an understandable feminist desire to restore dignity
and agency to suffering women. Melinda Givens Guttman, in The
Enigma of Anna O (2001), her wonderful biography of Bertha
Pappenheim (Freud’s Anna O) reminds us that it was Pappenheim, the Jewish feminist crusader, (who was seriously mentally
ill for more than a decade), not Breuer, and not Freud, who invented the “talking cure;” Penn State sociologist Karen Bettez
Halnon in her excellent unpublished dissertation on “Womens’
Agency in Hysteria and its Treatment” (1995) confirmed the extent to which many “hysterical” symptoms were forms of resistance
and rebellion, especially among poor and prostituted women.
Finally, it was Elizabeth Parsons Ware Packard—not Thomas
Szasz—who first compared institutional psychiatry to the Inquisition. This last point is not lost on Hubert. The Fathers of both
Psychiatry and Anti-Psychiatry, and of Psychoanalysis were of-
ten Mothers, women, patients, some of whom were sane, some
less so.
Hubert shows us that diary-keeping preserved the sanity and
hope of many women while in psychiatric custody, and later became the basis for their altruistic crusades against continued state
torture and against the “one man rule” of state and private asylums.
Hubert argues that many nineteenth century women wrote gloriously damning exposes of institutional abuses, but that many twentieth century women (there are many exceptions) confessed their
gender-based sins and sought absolution from their doctors—and
then wrote about it in fiction and nonfiction. Joanna Russ in What
Are We Fighting For? Sex, Race, Class and the Future of Feminism
(1998) made a similar point about how many twentieth-century
women willingly colluded in their own gender-biased diagnoses.
Hubert has written an admirable, but not necessarily an original, book. Her choice of original sources is superb. But, Hubert
is also naive. Hubert also hopes that “women’s madness narratives
can . . . [interrupt] psychiatric discourse,” and help us all “envision
new ways of beings” (p. 142). And yet, as Hubert herself points
out, many women who are psychiatrically incarcerated behave in
racist, sexist, classist, and homophobic ways as do their keepers,
both the sadists and the well-intentioned. Just because someone is
“mad” is no guarantee that they will be more heroic, or any more
“politically correct” than their jailors. Alas, ’tis true. I suspect that
Hubert might have gulped a bit—perhaps even taken to the hills—
were she to have encountered some of the twentieth-century narrators whom she most admires while they were actively hallucinating, physically abusive, menacing, growling, actively suicidal,
ringing her bell at 3:00 A.M., parking themselves on her couch,
refusing to leave, refusing to shower. Like Hubert, I admire their
candor, artfulness, canniness, philosophical and political points,
but I could not live with, or take responsibility for them, nor could
I work with them on many feminist issues because their ability to
do world-work was severely impaired.
I agree with Hubert that forced hospitalization, institutional
practices, and stigmatizing diagnoses are abominable, torturous,
and cannot “heal” women who are in rebellion, or who have been
broken by oppression. Like Hubert, I, too, prefer the valiant
nineteenth-century exposés and crusaders against asylum abuses
(Elizabeth Packard, Clarissa Lathrop, Ada Metcalf, Lydia Smith,
Anna Agnew) to the twentieth-century apologists (Lucy Freeman,
Joanne Greenberg, Barbara Benziger, Jane Hillyer, Sylvia Plath,
Marion King) for femininity and embracers of both the idea of a
benevolent helper-physician, and the individual solution.
I disagree with Thomas Szasz, R.D. Laing, and Hubert and I
said as much in Women and Madness (1972). Madness (manicdepression, schizophrenia, anxiety and obsessive-compulsive disorders) itself is terrifying and painful and should not be confused
with political or even aesthetic revolution. Analyzing a text or document is not exactly the same as analyzing a distressed human being who has turned to you for help. It is one thing for a literature
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REVIEWS
professor (Susan Gubar and Sandra Gilbert, Elaine Showalter,
Hubert) to decipher “texts; ” it is something else when a woman
who cannot sleep anymore and who has lost her will to live turns
to you for help. True, not everyone wants to be “helped” and often the so-called “help” is useless, or quite harmful. But, if you
loved someone, if they were important to you, would you, could
you merely comfort yourself with the view that it is their civil and
human right to walk naked into traffic, or to commit suicide—and
Do Nothing?
Szasz, Laing, David Cooper, and others whose politically correct analyses Hubert shares—but also wrestles with—never sound
as if they feel personally connected to the female victims of incest,
rape, battery, who are drunk, addicted, who can no longer sleep
or eat, or those for whom a thousand indignities of second and
third-class citizenship have led, finally, to paranoia, depression.
Hubert, Showalter, and I all agree that the anti-psychiatry movement is also as recklessly sexist as the pro-psychiatry movement
has been.
While women and men should have the right not to be forced
into hospitals, medicated against their will, guarded by untrained,
underpaid, and overworked staff—it seems to me (and to many
others) that human beings should also have the right to quality,
affordable, and humane treatment (drugs, education, rehab, the
best analytic, liberatory attention, be it psychoanalytic and/or feminist). Families and loved ones cannot be expected to absorb the
demands and dangers of those on a “crazy trip.”
REFERENCES
Chesler, P. (1972). Women and madness. New York: Doubleday.
Guttman, M. G. (2001). The enigma of Anna O. Wickford, RI:
Moyer Bell.
Halnon, K. B. (1995). Women’s agency in hysteria and its treatment. Ann Arbor, MI: UMI Dissertation Services.
Lathrop, C. C. (1890). New York: A secret institution. New York:
Bryant Publishing Co.
Russ, J. (1998). What are we fighting for? Sex, race, class and the
future of feminism. New York: Saint Martin’s Press.
Phyllis Chesler is Emerita Professor of Psychology and Women’s Studies
and the author of eleven books including Women and Madness and most
recently Woman’s Inhumanity to Woman.
BREAKING THE SILENCE
Because I Love You: The Silent Shadow of Child Sexual
Abuse. JOYCE ALLAN. Charlottesville, VA: Virginia
Foundation for the Humanities Press, 2002. 319 pp.,
$19.00 (paperback), IBSN 0-9669010-4-5.
What sets this book apart from other memoirs on incest is its unstinting approach to breaking the silence surrounding the abuse by
understanding and exposing the perpetrator and those who inadvertently contribute to the continuance of abuse through silence
and inaction. Author Joyce Allan had the misfortune of having a
pedophile as her father—a man who perpetrated incestuous abuse
on his own children and grandchildren and molested numerous
other children. As the title, Because I Love You: The Silent Shadow
of Child Sexual Abuse implies, Allan had to struggle with the legacy
not only of the abuse but of what he told her when he abused her,
that he loved her. She had to struggle in order to gain perspective
on how he could simultaneously love and exploit her. Allan has
done an admirable job of understanding and communicating this
seeming contradiction. She also shows how, in the larger society,
what appear to be loving attempts to protect the perpetrator and
his/her victims and to deny the occurrence of abuse can instead
aid and abet its continuance.
With this book, Allan offers leadership in breaking the silence
and in speaking of the travesty that is child sexual abuse. Despite having had a mother who believed her and who immediately
moved her away from the perpetrator who was subsequently incarcerated, she suffered what we now know as the classic aftereffects
of incest/child sexual abuse. Yet, despite believing and protecting
her daughter, Allan’s mother was stymied by shame and unable
to talk to her about the abuse. Nor could she seek help for her.
Allan had to do what abused children do—fend for herself in the
silence and puzzle as the myriad effects and symptoms ebbed and
flowed in her life. She did not have an easy life and yet, like so
many other survivors, she managed to excel at a professional career, first as a nurse, then as a psychiatric nurse practitioner who
came to specialize in treating those who had been abused as children. Along the way, she had to face her own history, her father’s
abuse of her own children and others in the family, and the death
of her cherished brother (who she believes died of the long-term
consequences of a heart broken in childhood), while she struggled
to work on her own recovery.
This book obviously testifies to the success of that recovery.
A major strength is that it is written from the dual viewpoints
of victim-survivor and professional. Ms. Allan has not only lived
through the experience of abuse and its aftermath but she has studied it extensively, as an area of academic interest and in terms of
her clinical pursuits. What she has learned personally and professionally, she presents factually and even-handedly. She describes
what other people recoil from and try to hide. Through numerous interviews with family members, friends, and colleagues of
her father that she conducted over the course of many years, she
came to intimately understand her father and how his upbringing
contributed to his pedophilic behavior. Furthermore, she documents how she came to the realization that his perpetration was
allowed to continue when family and friends refused to truly see
his behavior for what it was or to intervene.
Because I Love You: The Silent Shadow of Child Sexual Abuse
is sobering and not an easy read. It forces the reader to ponder how
we are all responsible for the welfare of children and how mightily
we, as a society, have failed at this task. Published against the
backdrop of the priest abuse scandal and cover-ups that have come
to light recently, the book offers no easy answers about treating
perpetrators and stopping their predations. Yet it puts all of us on
notice that as long as we as a society, individual and collectively,
collude in denying the reality of abuse and in covering it up, abuse
will continue to the detriment of the involved children and of the
society as a whole.
Christine A. Courtois, Ph.D., is a psychologist in independent practice
in Washington, DC. She is Clinical and Training Director, The CENTER:
Posttraumatic Disorders Program of the Psychiatric Institute of Washington, Washington, DC and the author of Healing the Incest Wound: Adult
Survivors in Therapy and Recollections of Sexual Abuse: Treatment Principles and Guidelines.
Reviews
FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART
Speaking From the Heart: Gender and the Social Meaning of Emotion. STEPHANIE SHIELDS. New York:
Cambridge University Press, 2002. 214 pp., $28.00
(hardcover), ISBN:0521802970.
One doesn’t often come upon this type of scholarly book.
Stephanie Shields has succeeded in writing a book that is intellectually challenging, refreshing, and inspiring. As she argues, researchers have neglected the study of gender issues in emotion,
as well as emotion research in gender studies; thus, the relation
between gender and emotion remains an unexplored area of research. Stephanie Shields knows both fields very well, and has
clearly benefited from this cross-fertilization. She can be seen as
the pioneer in this area of research and she has contributed enormously to the development of this field, not only by publishing
important work, but also by discussing research of others in this
area. Speaking From the Heart is the crowning glory of her work.
Shields contends that emotional reactions of men and women
differ, because they are differently constructed and take place in
different social and cultural contexts. Anger experienced and expressed by a man differs from anger experienced and expressed
by a woman, for a variety of reasons, such as the legitimacy of one’s
anger, the way it is expressed, the entitlement of one’s anger, the
reactions and interpretations of others, and so on. The relation
between gender and emotion thus cannot be successfully tackled by asking whether men and women differ in emotion. Men
and women are presumed to differ; the question, rather, becomes
when and how and to what extent.
Going against the current of the majority of psychological emotion research, Shields emphasizes the gendered social world in
which men and women ‘do’ their emotions. By diving into history,
she shows how stereotypical beliefs about men’s and women’s emotions have influenced scientific thinking and research. Women’s
emotionality, for example, has always been associated with weakness and ineffectiveness, whereas men’s emotionality has been
associated with strong passions that serve effective social action.
She describes how these gendered beliefs about emotions pervade
all areas of social life, from childhood play to sports, to parents’
education, to professional behavior.
Men receive significant attention in this book. Researchers
need to analyze the fact that Western cultures have a dominant
stereotype of the inexpressive male, not blindly accept it as a truth.
As it seems, this stereotype tells us more about our beliefs about
the nature of emotions and how men should behave than about
men’s emotional reactions.
However, this book does not indict men, nor is it an expression
of moral outrage against all biased male researchers. Shields carefully and eloquently analyzes the gendered beliefs and shows how
they impact the way in which we think about emotional reactions
of men and women. She knows how to phrase complex concepts
in an understandable way, while never becoming simplistic or too
popular. Take, for example, her definition of emotion. After having cited a very elaborate multilayered definition of emotion, she
simply concludes “I would take this careful and comprehensive
definition and sum it up this way: Emotion is “taking it personally” (p. 6).
I found this book amusing as well, filled with funny stories,
cartoons, and film fragments in which men and women show dif-
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ferent emotional responses. These illustrations serve a very important function not only as an illustration to make the material
accessible, but to also force the reader to rethink the theoretical
assumption that the story illustrated. Stephanie Shields has written a fantastic book that I would like to recommend strongly to
anyone interested in emotion, in gender, or both.
Agneta Fischer is Professor in the Department of Psychology at the
University of Amsterdam. Her research interests are gender and cultural
differences in emotions, regulation of emotion, the social context of facial expressions, and gender and management issues. She is a member
of the Executive Committee of the International Society of Research on
Emotion, editor of the Emotion Researcher (quarterly of ISRE) and editor of Gender and Emotion: Social Psychological Perspectives (Cambridge
University Press, 2000.)
SONGS SUNG BLUE: TALES OF WOMEN
AND DEPRESSION
Situating Sadness: Women’s Depression in Social Context. JANET M. STOPPARD AND LINDA M.
MCMULLEN (Eds.). New York: New York University
Press, 2003. 248 pp., $55.00 (hardcover), ISBN: 0-81479800-4; $19.00 (paperback), ISBN: 0-8147-9801-2.
The American Psychological Association’s recent Summit on
Women and Depression concluded that women experience depression at more than twice the rate for men, that the social, physical, and economic consequences of depression are severe, and
that depression presents a greater burden for women than any
other disease (Mazure, Keita, & Blehar, 2002). Despite its significant impact on women, Situating Sadness editors Janet Stoppard
and Linda McMullen argue that researchers have been slow to
focus their efforts specifically on women’s depression. Further,
they contend that medical models of women’s symptoms dominate the empirical study of depression, while underlying social
experiences have been ignored. In this volume, by focusing on
qualitative research findings about the feelings, experiences, and
coping methods of women who have been depressed, they aim
to provide a broader perspective on women’s depression. As the
newest addition to the “Qualitative Studies in Psychology” series
published by New York University Press, this book also shares
the series’ goal of highlighting and encouraging the expansion of
qualitative research methods.
Situating Sadness comprises ten chapters: eight based on qualitative studies of depressed women, sandwiched by integrative
introductory and concluding chapters co-authored by the editors. The studies, originally published in a special issue of Canadian Psychology/Psychologie Canadienne (Stoppard & McMullen,
1999), are presented here in an accessible, descriptive format, with
primary focus on themes and conclusions identified by individual
researchers. The research questions touch on interesting and diverse aspects of depression that would not be easily pursued by
conventional positivist approaches. As examples, Linda McMullen
analyzed the metaphors that depressed women use when talking
to therapists about their feelings, Janet Stoppard and Deanna
Gammell explored the impact of being prescribed antidepressant medication on women’s understanding of their own depression, and Yvette Scattolon sought to understand how rural women
350
who do not seek professional help for depression cope with their
distress.
Though not an expressed goal, the book clearly emphasizes societal over biological causes of women’s depression. For example,
Natasha Mauthner’s explanation of postpartum depression centers
on women’s desire to be “perfect” mothers conflicting with their
perception that they are not measuring up. Mauthner suggests that
this standard of perfection has its roots in cultural proscriptions
about good (and bad) mothering, a standard so rigid that women
are reluctant to disclose negative feelings related to the experience
of mothering, which in turn may intensify their sense of hopelessness and isolation. Likewise, in the other chapter focused on postpartum depression, Paula Nicolson describes women’s accounts
of central losses they experienced in the transition to mothering,
such as decreased autonomy and time, diminished appearance and
sexuality, and weakened career identity. Rather than grieving such
losses and moving on in a healthy manner, Nicolson believes that
Western society’s strong taboo against admission of postpartum
unhappiness serves to silence women’s expression of mourning,
thereby heightening their discomfort.
Both the researchers and the research participants articulate
societal or situational origins of their distress. Scattolon’s rural
Canadian women tended to view their depression in terms of life
stresses such as financial problems or childcare responsibilities.
Women in Wales and Ghana, the focus of a study by Vivienne
Walters, Joyce Yaa Avotri, and Nickie Charles, also attributed their
distress to financial hardship, as well as to problems related to
the traditional nature of gender roles in both societies. Even in
Stoppard and Gammell’s interviews of women who had been diagnosed as depressed and prescribed antidepressant medication,
participants espoused stress-related explanations for their feelings
in addition to the “chemical imbalance” rationale given them by
their physicians.
The emphasis on economic, lifestyle, and social factors in
women’s depression is a major strength of this book, making it a
logical adjunct to Stoppard’s (2000) earlier book on the social constructionist perspective. Whereas the previous work thoroughly
reviewed and critiqued a wealth of literature on depression, arguing on theoretical grounds for the merits of a social constructionist
position, the present book provides the personal accounts needed
to support this viewpoint. Students especially will appreciate the
“real-world evidence” offered here. In essence, the first book provided the text and this one the illustrations.
An appreciation of Situating Sadness depends on readers’ comfort with qualitative research methodology. The studies presented
here offer rich and detailed accounts of participants’ experiences
that cannot be matched in quantitative investigations. For example, participant quotations incorporated by Dana Jack in her exploration of the relationship between anger and depression vividly
depict both positive and destructive forms of anger expression and
their relational consequences. Such links could not be established
via traditional methodology. On the other hand, critics of qualitative approaches will be frustrated by small sample sizes (four of
the eight studies are based on samples of ten or fewer women) as
well as limited detail about procedures such as sample recruitment
or interview questions. (Many of the studies footnote earlier publications for a full account of procedures, but research-oriented
readers are likely to find it disconcerting not to have this information readily available.) In addition, while the decision to present
studies in a more literary than empirical style enhances the book’s
accessibility, this format tends to neglect relevant background literature, which in turn makes the task of fitting findings into a
REVIEWS
larger scholarly context more challenging (for a discussion of value
and logic in qualitative research, see e.g., Marshall & Rossman,
1999).
Overall, this book has merit for a wide variety of audiences.
Quantitatively oriented researchers of depression will benefit from
hearing the voices of their subjects in context, and perhaps they
will consider new and different empirical questions as a result.
Students and scholars new to qualitative research will find this
work an excellent introduction, providing useful information about
both the process and product of this approach. Stoppard and
McMullen hope that the book will be useful to clinicians who
work with depressed women. Though few chapters offer specific
advice to helping professionals, it is certainly true that a broader
understanding of the situational context of depression would be
of benefit to clinicians. Too many psychology training programs
give short shrift to social and/or feminist explanations of women’s
depression.
The book was not intended to be a self-help resource and
should not be recommended as such. On the other hand, individuals struggling with depression may find comfort in reading
the perspective of those with similar concerns. Finally, individual
chapters would make excellent supplementary readings in undergraduate or graduate courses in women’s studies, the psychology
of women, or psychopathology.
REFERENCES
Marshall, C., & Rossman, G. B. (1999). Designing qualitative research (3rd ed.). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.
Mazure, C. M., Keita, G. P., & Blehar, M. C. (2002). Summit
on women and depression: Proceedings and recommendations. Washington, DC: American Psychological Association. (Available online at www.apa.org/pi/wpo/women&
depression.pdf).
Stoppard, J. M. (2000). Understanding depression: Feminist social
constructionist approaches. London: Routledge.
Stoppard, J. M., & McMullen, L. M. (Eds.). (1999). Women and
depression: Qualitative research approaches [Special issue].
Canadian Psychology/Psychologie canadienne, 40(2).
Melissa J. Himelein is Associate Professor of Psychology at the University
of North Carolina at Asheville and a licensed clinical psychologist. She
has written several articles and book chapters, and her research interests
include sexual victimization, body image, and polycystic ovary syndrome.
SHOULD TOPICS IN PSYCHOLOGY OF GENDER
BE GENDER NEUTRAL?
Gender: Crossing Boundaries. GRACE GALLIANO.
Belmont, CA: Wadsworth/Thompson Learning, 2003.
488 pp., $58.95 (paperback), ISBN: 053435582X.
Gender: Crossing Boundaries is a very well written text about gender from a multicultural perspective. More than any other psychology text I know, every topic includes comparisons and contrasts
from around the world. While this provides ample evidence that
gender has been constructed in various ways in different places
and times, the relative lack of familiar examples runs the risk of
White, middle-class students interpreting this gender diversity as
Reviews
an anthropology lesson rather than an issue that is directly relevant
to themselves.
The first section, Foundations for a Psychology of Gender, is
very strong. In it Galliano establishes her point of view, which
is multidisciplinary as well as multicultural, focuses on ethnicity
rather than race, and adopts the gender-in-context perspective.
These three chapters combine material that is covered in most
texts on women and gender in a different order. The reader learns
about what gender is, how it has been studied, critiques of logical positivist methodology in relation to the study of gender, and
psychological theories about gender before the biology of sex and
gender is introduced in the second section or media representations are analyzed in the last section. The organization works
well.
The second section begins with an outstanding chapter on
“Gender and the Body,” which includes discussion of brain differences, comparisons of cognitive abilities, and sex chromosome
and hormonal disorders, and intersexuality. The next chapter, “Life
Span Gender Development,” is among the weakest, trying to fit
womb to tomb lifespan development into roughly 30 pages, with
no discussion of menstruation or menopause. The developmental
picture does get filled in with the other two chapters in the section,
one about relationships and one on gender as social performance,
but I would prefer the developmental perspective to be carried
out more fully in the three-chapter sequence.
The last two sections are heavily sociological. The third section, The Gendered Life, includes chapters on sexuality, education, work, physical health, and mental health. Given this framework, I expected a chapter on the family as well, but I did not find
it. The fourth section, The Gendered Society, includes chapters
on media, power, and the future. While the reframing of the traditional “violence against women” chapter into a power analysis is
excellent, as is the historical perspective that is included in nearly
every chapter, I missed a more psychological balance. Although
feminism is mentioned frequently in the text, its absence in the
chapter on the future is unfortunate.
Grace Galliano presents her text on gender as an improvement
over texts that focus on women, because it focuses on gender similarities and differences rather than only differences. This is a
sham argument, as texts like Margaret Matlin’s (2002) Psychology
of Women also clearly emphasize gender similarity. Instead, I see
a text about the psychology of “gender” rather than “women” as an
acknowledgement that all psychology of women courses have in
fact become gender courses, even when the title has remained the
same. This reflects the success of women’s studies analyses, which
have become widely accepted and applied to the lives of men.
It also reflects the growing understanding of sex and gender that
has resulted from transsexual and intersexed individuals becoming
more visible and articulate, as Joanne Meyerowitz (2002) has documented well in her history of transsexuality. Still, psychology of
women courses typically explore more than gender similarity and
difference. They also present issues that are particular to women,
topics that male-dominated psychology overlooked. While many
gender texts continue this function, it is here that Galliano’s book
disappoints. Check the subject index and you will find menstruation, which is mentioned on one page yet never discussed, but
not pregnancy, childbirth, or menopause. If teaching about gender focuses only on topics relevant to both genders, it is not
progress.
This text covers some topics, especially multiculturalism, better
than other texts but neglects other topics. Galliano emphasizes
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the public world and gives limited attention to family issues. This
provides professors with a fuller choice of textbooks. What do you
wish to emphasize? What organization do you prefer? What do
you rely on a text to provide, and what do you like to bring to the
class yourself?
REFERENCES
Matlin, M. W. (2002). The psychology of women (4th ed.). Fort
Worth, TX: Harcourt Brace.
Meyerowitz, J. (2002). How sex changed: A history of transsexuality in the United States. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Michele Hoffnung is Professor of Psychology and Director of Women’s
Studies at Quinnipiac University. Her current research focuses on contemporary women’s career and family choices.
UNRAVELING THE DESTRUCTIVE MYTHS OF
ADOLESCENT SEXUALITY
Dilemmas of Desire: Teenage Girls Talk About Sexuality.
DEBORAH L. TOLMAN. Cambridge, MA: Harvard
University Press, 2002. 259 pp., $26.95 (hardcover),
ISBN: 0-674-00895-2.
Deborah Tolman defies social conventions and jumps wholeheartedly into an authentic discussion with adolescent girls about their
sexual desire including the taboo of sexual pleasure. What a refreshing approach! Directly refuting the social myth that adolescent girls are merely sexual objects devoid of sexual feelings,
Tolman shifts the focus away from sexual behavior per se and its
potential risks to the phenomenology of adolescent girls’ sexual
feelings. Dilemmas of Desire is an excellent book that addresses a
subject that has long needed exploration and validation.
Interviews about psychological and bodily experiences of sexual desire of 31 girls between the ages of 15–18 serve as the data
for this study. Using a feminist method that values the complexity
of voice, Tolman analyzed the narratives seeking commonalities
of experience. All of the girls had to face the dilemma of choosing either to embrace their sexuality and face potential physical,
social, and material consequences or to sacrifice authenticity for
safety. Fear of negative consequences resonated throughout the
narratives covering physical dangers (e.g., STDs and pregnancy),
social dangers (e.g., bad reputations, losing respect, and rejection),
and material dangers (e.g., losing educational opportunities). This
central dilemma was reiterated in various double binds about sexuality including: How can you avoid being labeled either a slut
or a prude? How do you cope with real feelings of desire when
social norms dictate asexuality and sexual passivity? How do you
reconcile what you feel with what society says you are supposed to
feel? How do you balance the costs of being an authentic person
against the costs of stunting your sexual development?
The exploration of the adolescent girls’ narratives about sexual
desire and double binds is nestled within a solid framework of
research and feminist theory throughout the seven chapters. For
instance, the interrelatedness of femininity, gender, and sexuality
and the role of the heterosexual romance script in controlling
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female desire are presented as a framework to understanding the
dilemma of desire. The first chapter sets the stage for the rest of
the book, providing a good introduction on critical issues including
the institution of heterosexuality, the social construction of gender
norms, sexual subjectivity versus sexual objectivity, and patriarchy.
Information about methodology and research design is laid out in
chapter two with more detailed information on the process of
interpreting the interviews provided in an appendix. Participant
demographics are presented in tabular form which allows for quick
assessment of the diversity of the group. The next several chapters
present the different ways the girls solved the dilemma of desire
and the potential consequences of each solution. These strategies
include complete dissociation from sexual feelings (Chapter 3),
manipulating life to avoid feeling sexual desire (Chapter 4), and
creating specific conditions where it is safe to experience desire
(Chapter 5). Chapter 6 presents comparisons between different
subgroups (i.e., urban and suburban; survivors of sexual abuse;
and lesbian and bisexual girls). The last chapter nicely summarizes
the main points of the book and provides individual and societal
solutions to address the issue.
Tolman presents a feminist analysis of adolescent girls’ sexuality in an enjoyable and easily digested format; it is appropriate
reading for a wide audience including undergraduate and graduate students. I found the quotes at the beginning of each chapter
thought-provoking and the personal stories of the adolescent girls
both riveting and revealing. Dilemmas of Desire would be particularly relevant to Psychology of Women, Adolescent Psychology,
and Human Sexuality courses. The entire book would be a worthwhile assignment; however, individual chapters can stand alone,
especially the last chapter.
The material in the book lends itself to spirited class discussion
and personal reflections. While reading it several questions beg
examination. For instance, how do you develop a sexual identity
that leaves sexuality out? Why is it boys are seen as having strong,
even uncontrollable, sexual desires whereas girls are not? And
why are girls, who have less power, supposed to control the sexual
desires of men and take responsibility for what happens? How
could the socially constructed “need” to have a boyfriend play a
role in pushing girls into having sex? Dilemmas of Desire raises as
many questions as it answers; I found myself thinking about the
book long after I finished reading it and wanting to discuss it with
others. To me this is the hallmark of a book well worth reading.
Susan Logsdon-Conradsen is a licensed clinical psychologist who is
an assistant professor at Berry College. She has written on various topics including gender equity in schools, sexism in television violence, and
mindfulness meditation. Her current research focuses on gender images
in the media.
THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOTHERHOOD MYSTIQUE
The Darkest Days of My Life: Stories of Postpartum Depression. NATASHA S. MAUTHNER. Cambridge, MA
and London, England: Harvard University Press, 2002.
260 pp, $35.00 (hardcover), ISBN: 0-674-00761-1.
Since the Andrea Yates verdict in 2002, postpartum depression
has been sensationalized in the media and provoked controversy
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among feminists, psychologists, and the general public. Yet there is
limited research on this subject, and what research exists appears
to focus on biological and hormonal causes. In The Darkest Days of
My Life, Natasha Mauthner offers a multifaceted understanding
of postpartum depression, based on the stories of 35 mothers in
Britain and the United States.
Mauthner sets the stage by describing the medical, hormonal,
and social science models of postpartum depression, identifying
the strengths and weaknesses of each. She then introduces the
reader to relational psychology and describes its usefulness in understanding women’s experiences with postpartum depression. In
keeping with the relational model, Mauthner used the “voicecentered relational method,” developed by the Harvard Project
on Women’s Psychology and Girls’ Development, to analyze the
content and themes of her interviews. This method involves four
levels of interpretation. First, Mauthner read the interview for
plot, while attending to her own emotional and intellectual reactions. Second, she listened for the first person “I,” in order to
better understand how each woman perceived herself. Third, she
listened for how the women spoke about their relationships. Last,
she attempted to place each woman’s story within the broader
social, political, cultural, and structural contexts of their lives.
This method allowed Mauthner to identify important issues that
had previously not been discussed in the literature on postpartum
depression.
Mauthner presents the results of her interviews in a structured
yet readable narrative. Some of the key themes she identified include how women acknowledged and named their depression;
their images of the “perfect mother;” women’s relationships with
their own mothers, partners or spouses, and other women suffering from depression; and the process of recovery. Mauthner discusses each theme comprehensively, with no expectations or preconceived ideas, and successfully presents the contradictions and
differences among each woman’s individual experience. For example, some women felt relieved and validated after sharing their
stories with other mothers, yet others felt even worse afterwards;
they worried that they were being “bad mothers” or “doing things
wrong.” Interestingly, the one consistency that Mauthner cites was
the fact that many women seemed caught between two voices—
one voice that held onto an idealized image of motherhood and
another voice that recognized the reality of being a mother. That
harsh reality involved, at times, resentment about breastfeeding,
lack of connection with their newborns, anger toward their children and other family members, and, at times, fantasies of killing
or abandoning their children.
Mauthner does an excellent job of preserving the individuality of each woman’s narrative while simultaneously identifying
recurring themes and integrating existing research evidence into
these topics. Although she used the relational perspective as her
methodological framework, Mauthner remains remarkably openminded throughout her book. Her approach allowed her to see
the many differences among the women she interviewed, and to
recognize the fact that postpartum depression is a highly individualized issue. Yet perhaps the strongest aspect of Mauthner’s
study is her recognition of the common ground upon which each
woman stood—the fact that all of them held idealized cultural
constructions of motherhood that contrasted sharply with reality. With this, Mauthner gives us an important contribution to
our understanding of postpartum depression, going beyond the
biological and hormonal theories of depression that currently
abound.
Reviews
Ironically, the chapter that gave Mauthner an opportunity to
examine ideals of motherhood from another cultural perspective
was perhaps the weakest chapter in the book. In “Voices from a
Different Culture,” Mauthner contrasted the experiences of the
women she interviewed in Britain with a group of women she
studied in the United States. She identified a few key differences
between the British women and the U.S. women; for example,
she notes that the U.S. women were more likely to harbor aggressive fantasies about their children; they may have been under more
pressure to emulate the “Superwoman” role; and they were more
likely to explain their depression in terms of biological factors, such
as hormonal imbalances. However, many of these differences may
in fact be artifacts of the sample and research design. For example, although the women from Britain were diverse in terms of
social class and level of education attained, the U.S. women were
mainly White, middle-class, suburban, fairly well-educated, and
all attended the same postpartum depression support group. The
homogeneity of the U.S. group may have contributed to the perceived pressure to be “Superwoman.” Interestingly, the leader of
the support group to which the women belonged was markedly
pro-medication and believed strongly in the biological basis of
postpartum depression. Her power as the leader of the group may
have influenced the women strongly as they created their own explanations for their depression. Mauthner does acknowledge at the
outset the various limitations of her cross-cultural comparisons, yet
the methodological issues in this component of her research seem
to limit any generalizable interpretations we can make. “Voices
from a Different Culture” would have been strengthened considerably had Mauthner conducted a more extensive cross-cultural
analysis, and perhaps included a cultural group with ideals and
practices of motherhood that are distinctly different from those of
either Britain or the U.S.
In The Darkest Days of My Life, Natasha Mauthner does a
brilliant job of providing an alternative understanding of postpartum depression. This is a fairly high-level book, and would be most
appropriate for an advanced-level undergraduate women’s studies
class or for graduate-level psychology or women’s studies courses.
I would also recommend this book to individuals in the medical
profession, particularly in obstetrics and gynecology, as these professionals may have a unique opportunity to prevent, identify, and
intervene in this disorder. Overall, this book provides an extremely
in-depth and compelling understanding of postpartum depression.
Gayle E. Pitman, Ph.D., is Assistant Professor of Psychology at Sacramento City College. Her teaching responsibilities combine her interests
in clinical psychology and the psychology of women.
RAISING HER VOICE: THE LIFE OF LETA STETTER
HOLLINGWORTH
A Forgotten Voice: A Biography of Leta Stetter Hollingworth. ANN G. KLEIN. Scottsdale, AZ: Great Potential
Press, Inc., 2002. 280 pp., $22.00 (paperback), ISBN:
0-910707-53-7.
Leta Stetter Hollingworth (1886–1939) is, unsurprisingly, a complex figure in psychology’s history and a challenging subject for a
biography. Until Ann Klein’s volume, the only published biogra-
353
phy of Leta Hollingworth was an account written by her husband,
psychologist Harry Hollingworth (Hollingworth, 1943/1990), who
destroyed his wife’s personal papers and correspondence during
the preparation of his own autobiography. Thus, Ann Klein’s contribution comes as a welcome addition to the body of scholarship
on this important psychologist and feminist. Unfortunately for the
general scholar or historian, Klein, a specialist in gifted education, filters her account of Hollingworth’s life through the lens
of the psychology of giftedness. This leads to the relative neglect
of some aspects of Hollingworth’s career (e.g., her analysis of sex
differences), and a relative emphasis on others (e.g., her development of the Speyer School and programs in gifted education).
Some readers may find this useful, others may find it limiting.
Klein’s task as a biographer is made even more challenging by
the complex nature of the subject herself. As an accomplished
psychologist, Leta Hollingworth made important contributions in
a number of areas, including the psychology of women and sex
differences, educational psychology and giftedness, and clinical
psychology. As a feminist, she challenged the then-prevalent “variability hypothesis,” which held that “the great difference between
the sexes in intellectual achievement and eminence is due to the
inherently greater variability of the males” (Hollingworth, 1914,
p. 510)—a view held by none other than her professor and mentor, E. L. Thorndike. However, she maintained throughout her life
an essentially nativist and hereditarian position on mental ability,
viewing intelligence as essentially inherited and fixed at birth. Yet
despite her belief in immutability, she believed that children at all
levels of intelligence—from the gifted to the subnormal—should
be offered learning environments that maximized their potentials.
Combined with these views was her advocacy of eugenics—that
is, selective breeding of high ability men and women to produce
high ability offspring.
In her published work, Hollingworth also called attention to
the use of the maternal instinct concept as a method of social control to tie women to their childbearing function (Hollingworth,
1916). But, as Ann Klein points out, Hollingworth once defined
a perfect feminist as “a woman happily married and with children” (p. 112), although she herself appeared to prefer to remain
childless. Finally, although cognizant of a diagnosis of abdominal
cancer for the last ten years of her life, she chose not to disclose
her health status to even her closest confidantes—including her
husband—or to seek medical attention until within weeks of her
death.
Ann Klein does an excellent job of presenting, if not analyzing,
these complexities and inconsistencies in Leta Stetter Hollingworth’s character, and has done a thorough job of consulting primary and archival sources and interviewing family members in
the preparation of this biography. Klein does her best to fill in the
gaps that the loss of Hollingworth’s personal papers has created.
However, without the richness and context that this body of material would have provided, Klein occasionally relies too heavily on
direct quotes and verbatim reports from interviewees to relay a
sense of Hollingworth’s character. While presenting the complexities of her subject’s personality, she does not go far in analyzing
them, and falls back too frequently on an overly simplistic analysis in terms of giftedness (e.g., “Like so many gifted individuals,
Leta Hollingworth was impatient with mediocrity” p. 179, and “A
profoundly gifted person can often have difficulty making close
friends” p. 97).
A few minor editorial flaws should be noted. Klein occasionally
references correspondence without indicating in which archival
354
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collection it can be found. In her “Notes on Sources” she at one
point mistakenly lists the Archives of the American Psychological
Association in Akron, Ohio instead of the Archives of the History
of American Psychology in Akron. This error is unfortunately reproduced on the back flyleaf of the book. (The Archives of the
American Psychological Association are located in Washington,
DC, and contain no information on Leta Stetter Hollingworth.)
But these flaws are not fatal, and Klein has both written an
engaging biography and contributed significantly to scholarship on
the history of women in psychology. Especially interesting is the
collection of photographs reproduced in the book, which include
a number of wonderful photographs of Leta and her sisters as
young children. Although not the definitive biography of Leta
Stetter Hollingworth (which has yet to be written), Ann Klein’s
A Forgotten Voice is certainly a valuable work that adds another
voice to the life and work of this important woman, psychologist,
and feminist.
REFERENCES
Hollingworth, L. S. (1990). Leta Stetter Hollingworth: A biography. Bolton, MA: Anker Publishing Company. Originally
published in 1943 by the University of Nebraska Press.
Hollingworth, L. S. (1914). Variability as related to sex differences
in achievement: A critique. American Journal of Sociology,
19, 510–530.
Hollingworth, L. S. (1916). Social devices for impelling women to
bear and rear children. American Journal of Sociology, 22,
19–29.
Alexandra Rutherford, Ph.D., C. Psych., is Assistant Editor of the
Journal of the History of the Behavioral Sciences and Assistant Professor in
the Department of Psychology, York University, Toronto, Ontario, Canada.
A PANORAMIC VIEW OF BODY IMAGES
Body Image: A Handbook of Theory, Research, and Clinical Practice, THOMAS F. CASH AND THOMAS
PRUZINSKY (eds.). New York: The Guilford Press,
2002. 530 pp., $60.00 (hardcover), ISBN: 1-57230777-3.
Inquiries into eating disorders and obesity have contributed immeasurably to the progress of body image research; conversely,
an inexplicable association among these concepts would constrain
the field of body image scholarship. Cash and Pruzinsky provide
keys to unlock these golden handcuffs by presenting to its readership a volume containing 57 chapters surveying the rich diversity
of topics within this interdisciplinary field. This book is remarkable in its scope, including information difficult to find elsewhere,
and nowhere singly. The editors deftly organized the numerous
chapters on variegated issues into nine cohesive sections focusing on conceptual issues; developmental, individual, and cultural
factors; body image assessment and dysfunctions; body image and
medical issues; and psychosocial and physical interventions. Recognized experts in their fields review current scientific literature
and present it in succinct chapters of consistently high quality.
Body Image begins with a section focusing on the conceptual
foundations of the field; in which chapters explore its historical development, as well as the Sociocultural, Neuropsychological, Psychodynamic, Cognitive-Behavioral, Information-Processing, and
Feminist perspectives of body image. Overall, these chapters address sophisticated concepts and present them in a highly readable manner. Nita Mary McKinley’s chapter on Feminist Perspectives and Objectified Body Consciousness (OBC) examines how
women objectify their bodies; she concisely articulates her theory
and describes select research regarding OBC and its psychological sequelae. The second section contains chapters exploring body
image throughout the lifespan, as well as those articulating certain
familial, interpersonal, and mass media influences on its development. Patricia Fallon and Diann Ackard author a thorough yet
succinct chapter elucidating the body image disturbances consequent to sexual abuse and outlining select cognitive and experiential interventions to ameliorate them. The third section, regarding
the assessment of body image, is notable for its depth as well as its
breadth. Issues explored in the six chapters composing this section
include the measurement of both perceptual distortions regarding the body and body image attitudes in children, adolescents
and adults; projective measurement of body image; the assessment of body image states; and assessing quality of life and body
image in medical settings. J. Kevin Thompson and Patricia van
den Berg’s chapter on “Measuring Body Image Attitudes among
Adolescents and Adults” is written with a precision that allows it
to provide comprehensive coverage in few pages; the chapter contains a highly inclusive and descriptive chart outlining the various
instruments available for these purposes. Also notable within this
section is Thomas Pruzinsky and Thomas Cash’s chapter addressing the need to better incorporate body image into health-related
quality of life assessments of individuals with varying medical
conditions.
The fourth section not only explores, but truly celebrates, the
individual and cultural differences in the experience of body image. These chapters address body image issues unique to women
and men; heterosexuals, gay males, and lesbians; individuals of
varying ethnicities and racial identifications (i.e., African American, Asian, and Hispanic); athletes; and persons with obesity
and congenital deformities. Roberto Olivardia offers us an eminently readable chapter regarding body image and muscularity in
men, briefly discussing the current ideal muscular male physique,
threatened masculinity theory, research findings regarding gay
men and muscularity, issues surrounding anabolic steroid use,
and muscle dysmorphia. Esther Rothblum’s chapter brims with
explications of the available quantitative and qualitative research
regarding sexual orientation and publicly perceived attractiveness,
weight, and body image. The chapters on African American body
images, Asian American body images, and Hispanic body images are wonderful, thought-provoking individual contributions;
in combination, they invite comparison, debate and, I hope, future
investigation.
The fifth section focuses on body image dysfunctions and disorders, with chapters exploring “negative body image,” body image
and social relations, and the relation between body image and
Anorexia Nervosa, Bulimia Nervosa, Body Dysmorphic Disorder,
and Psychotic Disorders. Michael Wiederman’s contribution to
this section is an engaging piece devoted to the under-explored
relationship between body image and sexual experience and functioning. The sixth section distinguishes itself even in a volume
of such high quality; these writings review the research, albeit
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distressingly minimal, regarding the association between body image and medical and physical conditions and disorders. Here we
learn the body image issues relevant to those with HIV/AIDS or
cancer or acquired disabilities, dermatologic, dental, obstetric, gynecologic, urologic, or endocrinologic disorders.
Two sections span an array of interventions. The seventh section focuses on physical transformations through weight loss, exercise, or surgery, and their effects on body image. Notable in
this section is Andrea Allen and Eric Hollander’s chapter regarding “Psychopharmacological Treatments for Body Image Disturbances.” These authors impart to their readers the cutting-edge
research regarding pharmacological treatments for Body Dysmorphic Disorder, Anorexia Nervosa, and Bulimia Nervosa, in a writing style so clear, lean and lively that one wishes it exceeded its
mere nine pages. The eighth section contains chapters addressing
the prevention of, and psychodynamic, experiential, and cognitivebehavioral interventions for, body image disturbances. The volume
concludes with a satisfying chapter by the editors that includes
their perspectives on the field’s contents and their hopes for future research directions.
This volume provides a panoramic view of contemporary body
image scholarship. Like its predecessor, Cash & Pruzinsky (1990),
this book makes an outstanding contribution to the field, ably
achieving its editors’ goals of providing a survey of the field, synopses of the current literature regarding the topics covered, and
a framework and impetus for future research. These authors have
skillfully taken complex concepts and rendered them accessible;
thus, this volume is a sourcebook equally appropriate for the sophisticated layperson, undergraduate and graduate students of the
mental health professions, as well as practitioners and researchers
of the medical and behavioral sciences.
REFERENCES
Cash, T. F., & Pruzinsky, T. (Eds.) (1990). Body images: development, deviance, and change. New York: The Guilford Press.
Lisa Salvato, Ph.D., is a behavior therapist in private practice in New
York, NY. She was Executive Director of the National Association of
Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders of Kings County for over a
decade, which allowed her to explore her interests in eating disorders and
body image disturbances.
PATRIARCHY, PRIVILEGE, AND POWER STILL REIGN
Balancing Family and Work: Special Considerations in
Feminist Therapy. TONI SCHINDLER ZIMMERMAN (Ed.). New York: Haworth Press. 2002. 199 pp.,
$24.95 (paperback), ISBN: 0-7890-1735-0; $44.95
(hardcover), ISBN: 0-7890-1734-2.
On the theory that one has to imagine something in order to make
it happen, Zimmerman’s stated intention is to offer such a vision.
Bent on countering the prevailing notion of the impossibility of
work and family consonance, she sets out to let people know that
there is the “possibility” for women to live harmoniously with work
and family. This collection indeed offers morsels of hope in many
of its well-researched articles. If you have a client population of
White, middle class, heterosexual, dual-income families, this book
is for you. If not, you will find it rather lacking in relevance.
The problem begins with the title. The functional definition
of “balance,” “family,” and “work” is so narrow as to limit usefulness or provide meaning. Using herself as an example of this
possibility Zimmerman pronounces, “my prioritization of fun and
recreation, my complete love and affection for my children with
whom I adore spending time; my intimate partnership and deep
friendship with my wonderful husband who equally shares in all of
life’s responsibilities and gifts; the meaning and pleasure I derive
from my work; my supportive and flexible work environment with
an on-site preschool; . . . and [I] am surrounded by structures and
relationships that support balance” (p. 2).
Now that doesn’t sound like a typical family to me and certainly
not representative of the women I see in therapy. Those privileged
with careers, not merely jobs, may be able to find meaning and
pleasure in their work, but few have such ideal work environments.
Fewer still have the good fortune to be able to prioritize fun and
recreation when their major focus must be on earning enough
money to feed, clothe, and educate their children. Additionally,
all the research reported in this book would question the accuracy
of her assertion that her husband truly shares equally in family
responsibility. All indications, anecdotally and statistically, show
that women still carry a disproportionately large burden in caring
for and managing families.
Parker and Almeida, in their chapter, “Balance as Fairness to
Whom,” describe the need to expand the “balance” discussion to
broader familial and social arrangements in order to bring about
justice in family life as it currently exists. They express the need
for the discussion to be extended, for example, to working women
partnered with unemployed persons; single unemployed women
striving to balance caretaking in families with accountability to
public institutions (e.g., welfare, housing, medical, etc.); lesbians
and gay males partnered or not, where lifestyle and personal openness may put them at risk; undocumented citizens balancing the
need for secrecy with the need to work, school their children,
and have relationships; and parents of disabled children, among
others.
The work of Parker and Almeida may be reason enough to
buy this book. They present the most politically astute, comprehensive, feminist analysis I have seen in psychological writing.
Feminist analysis, almost by definition, addresses the patriarchal
nature of the family and society and often addresses heterosexism.
More recently racial considerations are being included. Parker and
Almeida present an analysis that encompasses the above variables
and extends the discussion to consider class, age, and the multitude of variables that comprise the reality of our complex society.
They clearly describe the intersection of privilege, power and oppression and insist that for research to provide a launch for the
liberation of all people, it must be inclusive.
MacDermid, Leslie, and Bissonnette also challenge the idea
of balance in their chapter. They contend that pitting one role
against another is a setup for failure. They prefer the concept of
“navigation” because it emphasizes constant movement toward a
destination. Using the metaphor of a ship at sea they state “successful navigation is marked not by constantly smooth weather and
seas but by staying one’s course despite obstacles” (p. 23). When
the goal is navigation, they suggest, success is more likely than
pursuit of a goal of perfect balance.
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Although the use of this book is limited for clinicians except those who work with dual-income, middle-class, heterosexual
clients, the book is useful for family studies courses because of the
extensive quantitative research information provided throughout
and for the many suggestions of future research needed on this
important topic.
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Kayla M. Weiner, Ph.D., is in private practice in Seattle, WA. In addition to her clinical work where she employs the principles of feminist
therapy, she writes and teaches on a variety of topics related to the psychology of women. She is currently editing a book on the therapeutic and
legal considerations for therapists who survive the suicide of a client. As a
feminist political activist she is currently working against war and for the
preservation of civil liberties in the U.S.