In the last few years, the term “female rage fiction,” or “feminist rage fiction,” has been coined by bookstores, book clubs, and readers worldwide to describe novels full of imperfect, reckless, and angry female protagonists. With the popularization of these narratives, onlookers are forced to wonder –– why are these stories so compelling?
Because these protagonists have been so uncommon in the past, they have appeared seemingly all at once over the last decade. These characters have formed what is now defined as an unofficial genre-specific evolution in the world of storytelling and bookselling. The Hollywood Reporter and Stylist explain this recent rise to the access of social media and movements that have sparked online such as #MeToo and #YesAllWomen that encourage more accurate and human portrayals of women and their stories.
My Year of Rest and Relaxation by Otessa Moshfegh
A figure who is central to the heart of this unofficial genre is Otessa Moshfegh, whose novel My Year of Rest and Relaxation rose to popularity for its unlikable and imperfect main character. Coping with recent trauma, the unnamed narrator decides to take enough doses of sleep medication to nod off for the next year to avoid life itself. Violent, avoidant, and unkempt, the narrator slowly disassembles and unapologetically exposes the grotesqueness of her life to all the readers. Because the narrator remains unnamed, the story and its details become more poignant and reflective of the reader’s reaction rather than the narrator herself. This book –– its unloved, selfish plot became popular with a female audience for its unusual defiance of female character stereotypes within books.
While literature has been littered with representations of male characters that are imperfect and unlikable –– think Lolita, Macbeth, and The Picture of Dorian Gray –– female protagonists have never been depicted this way traditionally, as they have been portrayed through the eyes of male writers for centuries. Women have been historically oppressed by their male peers to the point of erasure, and therefore female characters in literature have reflected back to each generation as one-dimensional, perfect, and unproblematic characters until this recent change in narrative. No doubt there are outliers, but never in acclaimed and protagonist-centered fiction –– which has been historically, once again, ordained by men.
Female readers are clinging onto these imperfect female protagonists, finally seeing the darkest parts of themselves and their emotions represented as human, whereas historically f these traits have only been delegated or accepted when embodied by men.
Commentator Luia Lvana summarizes it best when discussing My Year of Rest and Relaxation through the lens of modern feminism: “[The protagonist] consumes drugs, watches bad television, and eats bodega food. However in doing that, she manages to act in a way that real-life women can relate to, as opposed to merely regurgitating aspirational female stereotypes…and in doing that she manages to widen the horizons of women’s portrayal in literature.”
Sorrow & Bliss by Meg Mason
Author Meg Mason also dips into this genre, sharpening the indentions made by My Year of Rest and Relaxation by naming the indelible pain and anger that protagonist Martha faces in Sorrow and Bliss. After being misdiagnosed for her mental condition her whole life, Martha is unable to control her bouts of depression and hopelessness, which cause her to lash out on those she loves most. Reflecting on the darkness she has never been able to name and treat professionally, Martha convinces herself that she cannot be what she has always wanted to be ––– a mother.
Seething with anger and unbridled pain, the main character is unreliable in the narration of her story. She twists and contemplates the intentions and roles of those she loves. She buckles with exhaustion under the societal norms and expectations set in place for her. She screams, she disappears, and she lashes out. And yet, despite all of this is a clear message: everyone in her life has dismissed or trivialized her mental health and her pain, which has left her without resources to truly be in control of her own life. Though perhaps not justified in her actions or responses to what she has endured, any reader can understand and feel the pain she has carried alone for so long.
“Female rage is an emotion that is often dismissed and invalidated,” writes Katie Grierson of HerCampus when compiling a list of female-rage books. “Society constantly tells women to smile, be pleasant, don’t be bossy, and above all else, DON’T be angry. The inability for women to freely express anger is reflected in the media…more novels come out that showcase that female rage…the emotions that [women] are forced to subdue in day-to-day life are magnified.”
This magnification is what makes Sorrow and Bliss such a poignant story to the representation of female rage. The inability to control her own story, emotions, and life is not her fault but a reflection of the oppression she has faced since childhood. By putting this in fiction, female readers may find solace in the representation of these hushed emotions and experiences they face every day.
Conclusion
The New York Times described these characters as “vengeful, disgruntled, violent, irritable, ungodly… They are mothers and daughters, sisters and stepmothers, best friends, and worst enemies. These are the women who flout convention, who shrug off the norms, the eccentrics who do things their own way. They are absolutely unacceptable and absolutely necessary.”
Though these are only two examples of an unofficial genre of books that are gaining more traction for female readers worldwide, more and more fiction has found ways to finally represent the microaggressions and oppression women still face in their day-to-day lives. These books address and reject the impossible standard and stereotype that women are held to –– that women need to be kind, happy, and perfect all the time to be respected. These characters and others unmentioned in this article mess up and make mistakes, and they hurt those around them, and yet, they still are the protagonists. It is still their story to tell, with no space for scrutiny between the lines. By portraying females this way, literature and society itself allows female characters to exist in a way that is human –– imperfect, affected by the social world around them, unlikeable, unlovable, hurt, and above all, angry.
