It is absolutely doubtless to me that Przybyszewska had a problem or two when creating and describing/explaining her heroines, problems, which do not seem to occur when men are concerned. I do think, however, that in The Danton Case (not to mention her prose) she managed to build female characters with distinct personalities, which is more than can be said of some other classics.
Going back to the way sexuality is being portrayed in The Danton Case, I honestly think that in order to be able to discuss it with good sense one needs to understand and respect asexuality. I am being somewhat in opposition to what Monika Świerkosz proposes in her article on the subject, I do not think that Przybyszewska's women "deny themselves any pleasure" when they choose ascetisim or politics, because one cannot deny themselves anything if one doesn't believe in the existence of such "pleasures". I feel that in this very personal aspect of a human life, Przybyszewska was drawing from her own experience more than on any other occasion: the pleasures of life was, to her understanding, ascetisim/celibacy and politics, and choosing them in no way indicates negating oneself. "It would appear then Przybyszewska realises that "a full lack of the element of desire" in regards to the world is a more radical violation of the norm than homosexuality or perverse sex; it is something for which there are no words". With this though, I agree in fullness. And so, all of Przybyszewska's heroines seem to share one quality, that is – they resemble ancient virginal goddesses of some sort, not exactly because there is an aura of divinity about them, but because they do not seem to be fully, wholly human. This "virginal" quality has little to do with their sex lives, and more with the desire for autonomy on all levels of being (physical and spiritual, not to mention – mental). I reserve for myself the singular right to my life was Przybyszewska's credo and arguably the strongest, firmest phrase she has ever coined. And this is the energy she breathed into all three women in The Danton Case (excluding, I must add, the few appearing in the very first scene; but most of the time no one reads it anyway); the level of intensity and the direction of this desire varies, but it is always present. I would like to present this in three parts, each relevant to one of the characters of the play.
Eleonore is evidently Przybyszewska's favourite, if only because she's devouted to Robespierre – but I think she is also modeled a lot after Przybyszewska herself, not just in terms of this undying devotion, but hers is the type that is later reproduced in many short stories (which, unlike the plays, are filled with women of different kinds to the brim), which makes it obvious she was armed with qualities the author found appealing. That's why it's so strange that Przybyszewska has essentially created two very different Eleonores: one in the play, and one in The Last Nights of Ventose. The first one is definitely meant to be depictured as elder, she has an ironic sense of humour and is very decisive and firm, despite making allowances for Maxime and his rigid rules. The second one is definitely younger, has a hard time grasping at irony, is timid at times and yields to Maxime rather than moves not to be crushed by his wishes. For a reader – probably any reader – the first one is definitely more appealing, more fun to read – more complex even, and given a will of her own, which makes her stand out among the majority of the play's characters (for example: the other members of Comsal have less distinctive personalities than her).
There is a weakness in her, though, or at least the way I see it: she does not feel natural. I'd give anything to have a strong, believable female character in that play, but Eleonore is... not it. Her sense of humor, her quips, her behaviour when she's constantly being met with disappointement don't read real in my eyes, it reads as something "too cool to be true" – therefore, it probably isn't. She has some occasional moments ("You viper!" comes to mind) when naturality shines through her words, but it isn't 100% of the time.
How does Eleonore express her femininity, does she do it at all? Well, yes and no. She seemingly willingly puts herself in a position, which is stereotypically feminine, that is to say: but an accomplice to the man of her life, putting herself second and him first, occupying herself with stereotypically feminine tasks of housekeeping and taking care of others (it is worth noting that these are all traits that have potentially negative quality about them, they can easily be distorted into degradation). In the same time, she assumes the air of equality when talking with Robespierre, is deeply interested in politics and holds her own when Maxime tries to dismantle her attempts at reaching out to him. She is also decidedly "virginal", if we are to reach out to the terminology from before, taking a firm stand against motherhood, even expressing a certain amount of contempt for the idea; this is, however, where the virginity of hers ends, because she is otherwise a very sexual person. To be honest, the way in which she is being presented to the audience – literally sliding down Robespierre's torso and kneeling to him, gripping tightly at his knees and very visibly trying to give him a blowjob first thing she sees him well after weeks of illness – is rather disgusting, not necessarily because sex is (a disclaimer, which could probably be put at the beggining of this post, since it's a bit relevant: OP is asexual and has nothing positive to say about sex), but because this is how she imprints in the audience's minds. No feigned irony of hers, no clever remark will be taken as just that, all will be tainted with the image of this otherwise sensible woman degrading herself for a scrap of attention from someone who says bluntly that she is indifferent to him (and as I always underline, in the universum of this play, Robespierre only ever speaks the truth, at least in the spiritual/mental matters, so we know he means it).
For the reasons listed above, I see her as both womanly and manly, if we could call it that. Monika Świerkosz, a Przybyszewska scholar, said that "[...] in Przbyszewska's prose works womanhood and manhood stand in a binary oppsosition to one another, and neither is an enclave of happiness of identity." – I don't think it's strictly accurate. To my understanding, the phenomenon relies on Przybyszewska not relying on any kind of deeply rooted gender stereotypes in creating her characters. It's not like she's taking a steretypically understood masculinity and simply sprinkles it over her heroines! She is operating in the fields of transsexuality, demisexuality and nonbinarity (not exactly in the convential meanings of these words, but there is something to it). I find it hard to put in words, perhaps the thing I want to say is mostly that her characters as a whole don't fit a clearly defined niche and live their own lives at the outskirts of customarily understood gender instead of being solely mouthpieces for the author.
Going back to the concept of virginity, which is especially relevant in Eleonore's case (and especially the one from TLNoV), when it comes to the woman who is always in Robespierre's orbit, it is being contrasted with his own attitude and thoughts on the topic. She's the one begging him to reconsider his stance on the subject, she's the one trying to sneak up on him and shutter his defenses (which is, again, explored and explained in a more detailed way in the novel). It is worth mentioning, though, that while she is constructed as a somewhat sensual person, she is still babyfied about it, there are narrator's remarks about her naivete and innocence in this regard, despite some – very limited – sexual experience. For this reason I'm on the fence in deciding how exactly is this trait used in Eleonore's case. Is she meant to be seen as more mature because she's had experience, knows what she wants, and she's willing to do a lot to obtain it? Or is she meant to be seen as more silly and childlike, not understanding her own desires to the fullest? Are we to admire her or pity her?
Willingly or not, Eleonore becomes an embodiment of a very important characteristic which Przybyszewska uses extensively in her short prose works. If she, for whatever reason, cannot achieve the fullfilment of what she's striving towards, she then personifies ascetisim. And ascetisim is the clou of all of Przybyszewska's life. At the heart of matters, she doesn't care for either virginity or motherhood (in this making equal two things treated usually as polar opposites) as long as ascetisim remains in the world. It is for Przybyszewska a synonym of both "autonomy" and "agency", two ideals powering her life (though, might I add, there is a bit of falsity in this, for her own autonomy relied on being dependent on the financial help received from others and she gave up an almost full autonomy – which could be found in providing for herself – in exchange for the absolutely full autonomy in just one aspect of her life: writing).
I have mentioned before that Eleonore doesn't seem to be entirely natural in her behaviour. Przybyszewska was to a very large extent fascinated by futurism (for her the Revolution, as well as any potential revolution, was worth taking notice of because it brough in the new), and a big part of european futurism was its own fascination by machines. While I, personally, disagree with the notion that machines and robots become a synecdoche of a man, perhaps it really were so for the futurists. A machine ceased to be something completely external and foreign to the humans, it begun to be more of an external part of a perosn's body, a complement of sorts. I think this is why "female" robots, or in general any mesh-up of robots and women may seem more natural to us: they usually already have this one additional organ, and through it, they can produce more humans. And this is what ties back to the idea of Przybyszewska's female characters being sort of divinities, but in a cold, rigid (ascetic!) sense of the world.
For none of them is exactly warm. Moving from Eleonore onto Louise,we can see she's even colder, and not without a reason, there is a cause for why she is the way she is – standing as a contrast to the fleshy, "humane" Danton she couldn't be anything else. What I like particularly well about this portrayal is that it's never shown in a negative way (and not even because Danton is... I think Przybyszewska's own sad experience with sexual abuse played a part in that). For the reasons of the sexual abuse she underwent, Louise is also portrayed in a decidedly virignal light: the things that have happened to her do not define her. She is so in a very different way than Eleonore, she weaponizes this part of her life which is seen as stereotypically connected to womanhood, while being detached from sensuality: motherhood. Her pregnancy is the first respite from Danton she has and she clings onto it, not even in a desperate way, it's cold, calm and calculated. Her young age also serves the same purpose, it detaches her from the customarily understood femininity, it makes her less "womanly" and more "girlish". I don' think I speak only for myself when I say the audience would have a hard time imagining Louise actually becoming a mother; for her this is only a weapon, a means to an end and that is because she is not yet fully formed woman, in a sense.
There is a thing about her and her appearance in the novel and how it presents to us that begs a moment of distraction. In his movie, Wajda took care of presenting both Eleonore and Lucille in a visually masculine way, but he did nothing of the sort with Louise (he barely included her at all, but even so, she was over the top feminine in visual aspects). I don't think this was a good move on his part, in all honesty, it creates a division between her and the other two heroines, while there should be no such thing. I think all three serve a much more unanimous role than what he'd have us believe and this text is partially meant as an explanation why.
So Louise, for obvious reasons, is rather disgusted by all matters pertaining to sex (and that is seen not only in her interactions with Danton, but also with Legendre, that's why we can safely assume so at large). She is shown as strong, strong-willed and intelligent, which is another thing pointing us in the direction of her mentality of an "ancient virign" (I use some terms liberally, but I hope I convey the meaning behind them well enough). She was stripped of all of this in the movie, and this time it was sadly yet another rung on the ladder meant to elevate Danton. In order to powder his face to make him presentable, Wajda had to exclude Louise from the movie and make her a prop rather than a person. I dare say he, as a man, saw Louise as a "anti-woman" because of her attitude and his artistic choice was the nearest antidote; but he was wrong. Przybyszewska's heroines aren't fully human, yes, and aren't fully womanly – but they aren't "antiwomen", they are "superwomen" (in the same sense of the word as "superlunary", for example). They are beyond femininity in many aspects and the only reason why we are even discussin them in any terms pertaining to gender and womanhood is becuase a. I have no other language to do it and b. these things exist in the same reality, I need to underline the fact these heroines are "superwomen" only because they, too, have an idea of what "a woman" should be and exist as a some kind of response to it. Louise, for example, has no need for it, because the root of her problems lies in the lense of femininity through which Danton sees her and if it weren't for his demise, he would continue to threaten her in a sexually abusive way, tied closely to her "role as a woman" (one of the last things he says to her is an accusation of sexual nature regarding her).
Lucille's response seems to be a lot less firm (if not: less aggressive) because her environement didn't condition her to be so fully womanly in the first place. A sfar as husbands go, Camille was a much better one than Danton: just as childish, but treating Lucille not only as a beloved, but also as an equal. This allows her for space to grow as her own peson, and if this person includes affirming her femininity (for example through being a partner to her husband, in being a tender mother, in caring for Camille when he needed her most, in loving him to the point of madness) we can rest assured it is her own choice and part of her agenda. She is not weaker than Eleonore nor Louise, she just has more space to breathe. And like Eleonore, she is deeply interested in politics, and not only that, but has a better graps of it than Camille does, connecting the dots quicker than he would. I can't say if this is a part of characterisation of the women in the play, to show them as autonomous beings capable of political thought, or if it was simply a way of gentle reminder every now and then to the audience that politics permeated the universum of the play so thoroughly everybody in it knows their way about it (it is worth noting that Louise also understands the then political troubles, but unlike the other two, she consciously cuts ties with it, for this is yet another thing which belogns to the realm of Danton, and she doesn't want to be further tainted by him).
I like the fact that Przybyszewska included a scene between Lucille and Louise, especially because it was not strictly necessary for her to do so. It is another facet of her craftiness and intention regarding the way women are being portrayed in the play, because while it exists on the structre lied down by the political plot, the most important things that an audience can draw from the scene are: while Lucille loves Camille greatly and will do anything to save him, it is not necessary for the plots/the overall theme of the play for her to act so (as proven by the indifferent Louise, who is in no way villified in her choice) and Louise is not evil as a character, because she doesn't shrink her responsibilities as a decent human being: she doesn't want to help Danton, specifically, but she provides Lucille wih a logical and pretty good way to attempt what she wants to do. Perhaps this is too little to call it a sisterhood between them, but I find this portrayal contrasting attitudes reassuring.
reblogging this post as well because it includes a great analysis of Louise Danton.
Sure, Louise as a literary character in Przybyszewska's play that is just based on the real woman, but I'd say it is still important, especially if so little is known about her as a historical figure.
And the character breakdown of Lucile and Éleonore is obviously worth reading as well.
