Bluestocking Oxford

By Victoria McKinley-Smith

In 1928, Marguerite Vallette-Eymery, better known simply by her pen name Rachilde, proclaimed ‘je ne suis pas feministe’. This was a bold statement to make. The term ‘feminist’ first came into usage in 1870s France, but, even by 1928, the French feminist movement was much different to the notions of equality associated with the contemporary cause. Less a cohesive campaign led by a few significant activists, it was instead a patchwork of subgroups each influenced by religious and cultural factors. Rachilde’s complex relationship with feminism stemmed from these conflicting ideals within the movement. 

Rejected by her parents, who preferred their pet monkey to their own daughter, it was always clear that Rachilde would grow up to be an unconventional figure. Indeed, her view of gender arose from her self-proclaimed role as a solitary, subversive ‘homme des lettres’. She strongly rejected any association with the traditional pillars of marriage and family entrenched in society. For her, being a ‘writer’ was paramount, transcending the need to identify with either masculinity or femininity. She distanced herself from organised movements of all stripes, and her ambiguous and apathetic stance toward feminism, as what she deemed a ‘regressive movement beholden to bourgeois morality that has not enormously improved existence’, in fact stemmed more from her pursuit of individualism than a wholesale rejection of feminist principles. 

As a woman in the French decadent movement, Rachilde strived to carve out her own place among literary men rather than dismantle the misogynistic system that stifled female writers. Despite her progressive approach to literature, she was no political liberalist. The collective nature of the politics of feminism did not interest Rachilde who instead, as a writer, prided herself in her own individualism. She did not rely upon policies ensuring economic stability and equality for all as she had the means to exist as an individual in her own literary endeavours. This was also tied to the negative reception of her works by respectable upper-class society. She believed that this rejection was a true indicator of the lack of progressive values within a society unprepared for such radical literary ideas as her own. She thus argued that feminism had done little to truly advance the reception of female writers. Her criticisms of the bourgeois nature of feminist principles are associated with the public rejection and condemnation of her works such as Monsieur Vénus, a novel deemed too shocking and subversive to be accepted by traditionalist society.  

Throughout her life, Rachilde was inspired and challenged by her fellow female writer from the Périgord, Georges de Peyrebrune, who acted as a mentor as she first navigated the Paris literary scene. United by their literary interests and ambition, the two had drastically different attitudes towards literary trends. Peyrebrune was far more of a traditionalist in comparison to her contemporary: enter Une Décadante (1886), Peyrebrune’s not so subtle jab at Rachilde’s lifestyle choices. The novella’s heroine, Hélione (arguably based on Rachilde herself) casts aside her literary ambition to prioritise and adhere to conventions such as marriage and childbearing in an attempt to modify her decadent and untamed behaviour. She is convinced by doctors that she is suffering from a nervous condition brought on by her artistic inventions, to which the only cure is to denounce her depraved lifestyle and marry. Une Décadante was also a criticism of Rachilde’s florid literary style, particularly the erotic fantasies of her novel Monsieur Vénus, which ultimately led to her conviction for pornographic writing and imprisonment in absentia in Brussels between 1884-86.  

In her own way, however, Peyrebrune was subversive, such as when she used her play Jupiter et les Bas-Bleu to reclaim the term ‘bas-bleu’, or ‘bluestocking’. Her work granted the term acknowledgment beyond the pejorative, and ensured its more expansive use through discussions in venues such as literary salons. So too, due to her promotion of female writing, including Rachilde’s, she was part of the first jury of the Prix de la Vie Heureuse, which became the Femina prize in 1917: a literary commendation celebrating the best French-language works that is still awarded by an all-female jury today. By promoting the vital contributions and worldly nature of the bas-bleus in contemporary French society, Peyrebrune helped to give voice and recognition to a variety of female writers while eschewing the shocking and controversial methods of her counterpart, Rachilde. 

Peyrebrune’s attitudes to society differed significantly from Rachilde’s, which perhaps were impacted by the discrepancies in their financial situations. Unlike the aristocratic Rachilde, Peyrebrune struggled with poverty her entire life, and despite her literary success, never truly experienced the monetary benefits of a successful writing career. This meant that Peyrebrune did not have the freedom to express such radical ideas as Rachilde, instead conforming to a feminism more easily recognisable to contemporary audiences. Peyrebrune identified more overtly with the collective nature of feminism as she experienced the same financial and social pressures as many of her peers, and therefore could not adhere to the same individualist tendencies as Rachilde. 

Rachilde’s achievements demonstrate that it is not necessary to align with contemporary feminist ideals to be regarded as a significant female writer. This is especially evident in her friendship with Georges de Peyrebrune. Despite their differing views on feminism – Rachilde prioritising individualism and Peyrebrune engaging with collective feminist efforts – the two fin-de-siècle writers forged a bond that transcended their differences. Ultimately, while Rachilde was more overtly subversive in her approach to feminism compared to Peyrebrune, this does not diminish the contributions of either woman to the feminist movement and literary world.