Kara Ireland
Dr. Linda Niemann
AMST 3760
April 20, 2019
Gender in Prayers for the Stolen: An American Feminist Perspective
Gender has always been thought of as a generally nuanced concept throughout history. Without the complicated classifications, gender has been the one thing most people feel like they have a grasp on. Girl or boy; pink or blue. It is a simplistic enough concept: the notion that humans are categorized into one or the other. Male or female. This distinction is palpable to most, based on physical differences. The foolproof way to differentiate between men and women are almost always physical; men have beards, wear pants, and have deep voices; women have long hair, wear skirts, and have higher voices. It is a simple system of perceptions that have suited and comforted mankind for generations upon generations. Such things are solidified and disagreeable to opposition.
However, gender is one of the most complex concepts to grasp due to its variance and nature of the spectrum. To preface the implications and analysis of Prayers for the Stolen the working definitions of gender, sex, and gender roles must be explained. Within the boundaries of this paper, my working definition of gender is the range of characteristics pertaining to, and differentiating between, masculinity and femininity (“Gender”). With the definition borrowed from The Merriam Webster Dictionary, it continues to provide that “depending on the context, these characteristics may include biological sex, sex-based social structures, or gender identity,” however, I do not subscribe to the latter (“Gender”). I am disposed to believe that gender and sex are two separate entities, therefore, including biological sex in the definition negates my stance. Gender is otherwise defined as “the behavioral, cultural, or psychological traits typically associated with one sex” via the Merriam Webster Online Dictionary (“Gender”). The overwhelming number of conflicting definitions only work to further conflate the general understanding of the subject. The definition of sex, however, is much simpler as the Merriam Webster Online Dictionary suggests it can be defined by “either of the two main categories (male and female) into which humans and most other living things are divided on the basis of their reproductive functions” (“Sex”). For all of my arguments, it is under the framework of the aforementioned definitions. It is not my intention to conflate the boundaries of gender and sex, as they are not interchangeable, and my mention of ‘gender’ is indicative only of gender as previously defined.
Jennifer Clement’s novel, Prayers for the Stolen is a compelling novel that challenges many societal standards typically enforced by women that must accommodate their lifestyles around the prominent culture of sex trafficking. The book explores and highlights this concept by introducing a character that has grown up in a place without men. The protagonist, Ladydi Garcia Martinez, has internalized the most unfortunate facet of truth in her society: being born female is her fault to bear. Because she is fortunate enough to have her sex and her gender in alignment, both of them forge a broken path for her to follow. Prayers for the Stolen follows Ladydi’s journey from tweens to womanhood while exposing her internal struggles with being a woman such in dangerous societal limitations. It is intrinsically proven to her throughout the novel that being born a woman has inherently made her inferior. The negative connotations of her gender have preceded her character, and her development is stunted from those harmful implications.
It is worth noting that the perceptions surrounding gender begin in early childhood and are upheld throughout various lifetimes. These indoctrinations begin early in life; in asking children as young as three years old what the difference between girls and boys are, they are apt to giving inherently sexist answers that reflect the gender roles they’ve witnessed. The disparity between pink and blue is already well-ingrained into children by the time they enter pre-kindergarten. If those children are susceptible to something as trivial as gender-preferential colors, it can be argued that they are attuned with the other, more detrimental ways the notions of gender establish itself. Patriarchal societies encourage the notion that women are subordinate to men, rather than being their equivalent. There is a gender-oriented power trip that has been upheld for centuries; the world functions in the favor of men.
In an additional preface, it is also worth noting which position this perspective is coming from. I am a Black, Lesbian, American woman and a self-proclaimed feminist. To be a feminist is only lending oneself to believe that men and women deserve equal rights and opportunities. My working definition of feminism is the theory of the political, economic, and social equality of the sexes (“Feminism”). My values as an American feminist are not limited only to the wellbeing and goodwill of women within the United States of America, but it is a sentiment that is extended to every woman, worldwide, in every culture. It is a sentiment that encompasses every woman, even ones that the outdated gender binary excludes. It is a sentiment that embraces women of all abilities, races, sexual orientations, identities, and religions. My feminism is all-encompassing, and it reaches into the pages of Prayers for the Stolen as I assess Ladydi, her Mexican community, and the trials she faces with a heavy heart and the utmost concern.
Jennifer Clement has curated an intuitive, strong, and charismatic character out of Ladydi. Ladydi is an inquisitive protagonist that has a flawed perception of men, and her role in relation to men. There is a lack of male influence in the society Ladydi grows up in; there are no brothers, cousins, uncles, or fathers within her sphere.
The first mention of Ladydi’s father had negative connotations, as she noted a wariness of the man she’d previously been so fond of. Including the detail of following him “closely as if he were a stranger that could steal something from me if I looked away,” grants insight to the founding of her unfavorable disposition, which she succumbs to as the book progresses (Clement 10). It foreshadows the ending to most biased perspectives, as Ladydi did end up in jail by the end of the novel. The most poignant line within Prayers for the Stolen was: “there was not a single daughter in that jail who was loved by their father, not one,” and it struck me because of its relationship to the themes in the book (Clement 184).
From her father’s influence, Ladydi has internalized the notion that men are supposed to leave in order to support the family, and her mother, Rita, worked to normalize his absence. Constituting that the men “sent money; they came back once or twice and then that was that” demonstrates Ladydi’s understanding of what to expect from men, a disposition established early on in the novel (Clement 8). They are still under a patriarchal influence by normalizing the absence, because it is borrowed from the notion that the man leaves in order to provide for the family. This is a shared trait amongst all of the girls in Guerrero, because their first interactions with men are distant memories with fathers who later disappear. It is the first contribution to their complicated relationships with men as their lives progress.
This is the first instance of Ladydi’s grasp on traditional gender roles as an American might understand it, because she never expected her mother to leave. My working definition of ‘gender role’ is also borrowed from the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary, as they are “a social role encompassing a range of behaviors and attitudes that are generally considered acceptable, appropriate, or desirable for people based on their actual or perceived sex” (“Gender Role”).
However, the women of Guerrero demonstrate a deep, complex understanding of how gender roles are presented to them. For them, gender is the difference between security and kidnapping. For them, gender is the blurred line between danger and safety. For them, gender is the disparity between life and death.
As young as eleven years old, Ladydi knows this; the first page of Prayers for the Stolen paints the unsettling picture with “I told everyone a boy was born” (Clement 1). Ladydi understands the imminent dangers associated with being a girl in Guerrero because she stated “if I were a girl then I’d be stolen” as the protagonist (Clement 1). Clement further expands on the peculiar idea with “on our mountain only boys were born, and some of them turned into girls around the age of eleven (4). She continues with “then these boys had to turn into ugly girls who sometimes had to hide in holes in the ground,” and offers a better understanding of the reasoning (Clement 4). Her language is interesting because her use of ‘had’ marks a necessity for the transformation, and it is a necessity for their protection.
For Ladydi, being a boy is characterized by ugliness, whereas being a girl is characterized by prettiness. She wanted to be “beautiful like Jennifer Lopez” often in her youth, although she was never granted the opportunity (Clement 62). She expresses desire for the latter as she noted the way girls on television were “getting pretty, combing their hair and braiding it with pink bows or wearing makeup, because this never happened in [her] house” (Clement 4). Ladydi’s longing for prettiness is palpable throughout the book, especially when she witnesses others getting the chance for a make over; she is always mentioning the way “we longed to have our hair done and our nails painted, but we were not allowed” (Clement 48).
Ladydi is aware of what women ‘should’ look like, as she remembered her father negatively regarding her mother because “a woman needs to be full” and she was not (Clement 94). It is an interesting detail to note that “when she described herself she’d hold up her pinkie in the air and say, skinny like a pinkie,” and despite her father’s observations, “her little finger would always be a symbol of her body” (Clement 94). To insert my feminist outlook in regard to this, I was saddened by the lack of reinforcement of body positivity. Ladydi was not told that her father’s perception of ideal beauty standards were specific to him, and that Rita’s body was ideal as it was. This worked to shape how Ladydi negatively viewed women later in the book by showing the first instance of it.
Though it is unclear whether Ladydi knows the extent of why being a girl is dangerous, it is evident in her language that she knows girlhood is a threat she carries. Prayers for the Stolen delves into the culture of sex trafficking dominating Mexico. Clement has included harrowing details and descriptors of such events, noting that “as soon as someone heard the sound of an SUV approaching, or saw a black dot in the instance or two or three black dots, all girls ran to the holes” (4). Rita and the other adult women of Guerrero are a particular point of interest for me because of how fine-tuned their caution is. The way Rita “would bend her head down, close her eyes and concentrate on listening for an engine or the disturbed sounds that birds and small animals made when a car approached” insinuates that this has been a continuous problem that has bred a propensity toward caution in its longevity. Further details that note that the only men in their proximity “inhabited SUVs, rode motorcycles, and appeared from out of nowhere with an AK-47 hanging from their shoulder, a bad of cocaine in the back pocket of their jeans, and a pack of Marlboro Reds in their front shirt pocket” complete the visual of their hostile environment and the lifestyle they have to accommodate (Clement 6).
Ladydi was deprived of indulging on traits of femininity due to the dangers of being attractive as a girl. Rita claimed that “[Guerrero] is where we are proud to be the angriest and meanest people in the world,” and it struck me as a strange boast until I had the realization that opposing femininity ensures safety (Clement 43). Contrary to the notion that women should smile and have generally open, inviting, and friendly body language to accommodate men, Rita understands how to combat the threats by small measures. Clement included a detail about Maria that likely made her complacent to men’s desires, as she was generally “quiet,” and she “never asked why” when given orders (78). Despite the lack of men in their society, Ladydi witnesses the ways in which certain women in power are still adhering to patriarchal domination through nontraditional manners. Hiding their daughters in holes and depriving them of beauty and femininity is an action due solely to the resistance of masculine influence. This is largely in response to their knowledge of the hyper-sexualization of young girls that fuels sex trafficking. They have fashioned their lifestyles around precautions for encounters with men, despite their absence. Even without men actively enforcing and upholding the patriarchy, these women of the village still adhere to the standards imposed under a society that favors them.
I found it compelling how men could instill fear on a matriarchal, mountainous society that functioned solely on periodic appearances. These women were overtly self-sufficient, yet they still succumbed to these threats. Through a feminist lens, I am in a position to revere these women for their undeniable strength and poise in the face of terrorism. However, this position is one of extreme privilege, because I can ask questions regarding why they neglected to relocate, why they decided against police action, and why they continued to subject themselves to such terrors. This is where my American lifestyle modifies my interpretation of such events. I cannot comprehend being confined to such an alternative lifestyle that is largely characterized by the omnipresence of fear. The women of Guerrero are not in their situations by choice, and they do not have the resources to overcome it. Those sex-traffickers from Acapulco are preying on them because of their lack of resources and defense mechanisms. There is no police or government intervention because all of the systems for them are corrupt and likely implicated in the crimes committed.
Throughout her childhood and adolescence, Ladydi has learned that encounters with men breed sexuality. At her youngest interaction, Ladydi marked an encounter with José Rosa as the distinction between girlhood and womanhood. Ladydi explained that on “that night, Estefani, Maria, Paula, and I menstruated for the first time,” after José Rosa had to assist Paula in washing away the Paraquat she had been doused in (Clement 56). She then proceeded to attribute their menstruation to the occurrence of José Rosa “[seeing] Paula naked” (Clement 56). Because he “saw her dark skin and her breasts with their large, brown areolae and soft, black-red nipples and the black hair between her legs,” Ladydi deemed it the moment they became women as a unit (Clement 56). She further explained that “we became one woman and it was as if he’d seen us all,” which puts José Rosa at the forefront of her shared experience (Clement 56). Ladydi has an internalized compulsion for being validated by men, and this scene was prefaced with “we wanted José Rosa’s eyes to look at us as women” (Clement 45). José Rosa’s presence in that moment marked the beginning of her womanhood because she associated nudity in proximity of a man as the catalyst for maturity. She had not been the nude figure he glimpsed, but because they all looked similar, Ladydi felt as though she had also been exposed. Perhaps it was the knowledge of the sense of entitlement men possess, and that was why Ladydi ventured to share Paula’s embarrassment.
José Rosa took advantage of his sense of entitlement in the conversation he had with Ladydi’s mother, in which he speculated how it was possible for them to “live like this, in a world without any men” (Clement 49). His audacity in asking the question was coming from a position of privilege. The nature of José Rosa’s question was bewilderment, because he assumed women were incapable of independently supporting a community. From my feminist perspective, Ladydi’s mother was my favorite character because of the grace in which she handled such attitudes. With poise and refinery, she claimed that “[Guerrero] is a land of women. Mexico belongs to women,” and neglected to entertain the lost disposition he had (Clement 60). She refused to contribute to his ideology because it was not her prerogative to answer him.
José Rosa’s entitlement eventually encompassed action and transcended boundaries. In mentioning that “he placed his hands on my shoulders and his lips on my lips,” I was appalled (Clement 60). Although Ladydi was receptive to his breach, several red flags were raised for me in reading. There was no premise of consent. José Rosa had assaulted Ladydi, and as a minor, at that; she was only eleven years old when she was kissed by this teacher that abused his privileges. This also planted the seed in Ladydi’s mind that men are entitled to her body and succumbing to their lustful desires, that she is an object to be desired. As an American, the idea of “twenty-three-year-old hands [holding her] thirteen-year-old face as he kissed [her] again” is a sickening visual (Clement 60). Perhaps the age gap is not as big of a point of concern in Mexico, but the ten-year dissonance is grounds for my own distaste. For the kiss to be a memory that Ladydi cherished, saying that “the skyscraper-kiss was mine,” I am saddened that she is blind to her own victimhood (Clement 60); it is assault because at thirteen, she is incapable of giving consent. Reading this as an American feminist angered me because José Rosa is a predator that took advantage of a (willing) young girl.
This is an influence that plagues Ladydi throughout the rest of the book. I am in no place to speculate the authenticity of Ladydi’s claim: “I fell in love with the gardener and his name was Julio,” but her indicators begged for my scrutiny (Clement 128). Her love for Julio was characterized by staring and wishful thinking before they ever interacted, and she admits that she “didn’t know how to act any other way” (Clement 129). “I loved him and wanted him and no one had ever prepared me for this devotion” is a point of interest because of the language she uses; “devotion” in that sense becomes clear as a sector of obedience (Clement 129). The flaws in Ladydi’s perception of men reveals itself in the sentiment: “I longed for an order” (Clement 129). Her desire to answer to a man is not something she learned in Guerrero, because there were no men for her to acquiesce to. It could be possible that Ladydi has these compulsions because she was denied it, growing up. Ladydi expresses several harmful intuitions as she “wanted to be given instructions. [She] wanted to obey him. [She] wanted to kneel” (Clement 129). We come from different places, and I cannot imagine wanting to have someone to dictate me. Freedom and autonomy are in my blood as an American, and being domineered is not in alignment with my morals and values. I am uncertain of where Ladydi learned this obedience towards men.
She inherently wanted to “obey” Julio, and the misattributes she associates with love are all fashioned out of patriarchal values (Clement 129). It would make sense, had Ladydi grown up with a father and with men constantly in her life that reinforce such values, but she did not. It would make sense to function under those indoctrinations, if she had been indoctrinated that way. Catholicism is prevalent amongst Mexico and the sentiment of wives obeying husbands would be instilled in those who practice, but Ladydi and Rita have dissonance with religion. Rita’s views on religion and prayer are unconventional, as Jennifer Clement never mentioned any specific religion by name. She warned Ladydi against “[praying] for love and health ... or money” for amusing reasons that do not at all go in alignment with Catholicism or most veins of Christianity (Clement 12). Rita’s relationship with religion was damaged by Ladydi’s father leaving, and she suggested to Ladydi in the aftermath that “if God hears what you really want, He will not give it to you. Guaranteed” (Clement 12). From this admission, it is evident that Rita and Ladydi neglect to follow conventional religion, and it reinforces speculation about Ladydi’s desires when she encounters men; why does she want to please them so?
Perhaps it is not indoctrination through action by men, but learned behavior from the sentiments of the women surrounding her. Upon Jose Rosa’s arrival, all of the women in Guerrero “fell in love with this young teacher” and “sent him treat in [their] lunch bags or just hung out around the school” (Clement 45). Ladydi noted a “massive rush to Ruth’s beauty salon” and she “watched as [their] mothers had their hair washed and trimmed” (Clement 47). Similarly, in jail, Ladydi witnessed Violeta boldly state to Mr. Roma that she wanted him “in [her] bed, smelling [his] rich, delicious essence, or, in other words, [she wanted] to have sex with [him]” in addition to seeing how all of the women threw themselves at him (Clement 179).
The way Mr. Roma interacted with Ladydi and she got that “male kiss on [her] cheek” grants her more male validation (Clement 185). It is clear that Ladydi cherishes the contact because she “didn’t rub his kiss away with [her] sleeve,” despite the way she was constantly in contact with others (Clement 185). It is even more evident how sentimental his kiss was to her by her revering it with: “to have a man kiss you in a women’s jail is a gift better than any birthday or Christmas present” (Clement 185). She continued to rank it superior to “a bouquet of roses” and “a warm shower,” all things that evoke sensations of love and comfort and serenity (Clement 185). Perhaps she is attributing and projecting those sentiments onto these wayfaring men to fill the voids left by the absence of men in her society.
Another factor that contributes to Ladydi’s skewed perceptions of men is her observation of the disparity between the sexes once she traveled to Acapulco. These are not interactions Ladydi has had, but ones she has observed and heard about in conversation. On the bus to Acapulco, “Luna said she liked being in jail because she could urinate whenever she needed to,” and it is a strange detail until the further purpose is revealed (Clement 156). Luna’s oversharing is substantiated with: “you don’t want to get off to urinate when the train stops for a few minutes and the men get off because they’ll watch you, make fun of you as you squat by the tracks, or rape you” and it highlights the subtle horrors daily interactions with men can bring, those of which Ladydi missed out on in Guerrero (Clement 156). Ladydi later understood that “no one visits the women ... everyone visits the men,” and the subsequent rhetorical question from Luna: “what more do we need to know about the world” solidified Ladydi’s mindset going forward (Clement 158).
Prayers for the Stolen explores an extremely complex relationship between Ladydi and what constitutes womanhood. She experiences oppression through unconventional manners and adheres to standards imposed on her beyond her tangible realm of reality. Sex trafficking has shaped her entire lifestyle and has turned her into another product of the patriarchy. Ladydi has grown into a woman without a sense of self-assertion and validation, despite the way she grew up. Jennifer Clement has composed an intriguing take on how gender functions in society, and how it is still so deeply ingrained from generational influences that it permeates cultures even without the standard models in place.
In my original process for this paper, I had intended to explore the ways the women of Guerrero understood gender and how they fared with their understandings. They are subdued under certain restrictive gender roles, but it is from a much different and more detrimental place than our struggles in America. Women do stay home, but in the face of human sex trafficking. Their realities are untouched and unfazed by American feminist movements, because their realities are much darker and bleak than what women generally fight for in America. Girls do indeed have a subpar education, but because of the dangers associated with going beyond certain boundaries. The danger that men present to Ladydi’s society is omnipresent. Ladydi derived value from being objectified by men, at the core of it. When she met Julio and they had their relations, she experienced lust herself and was empowered by that, because she’d been powerless in almost every other aspect in Guerrero. She learned to hang onto that feeling from her mother and from other women’s example. Ladydi is a conglomerate character of two phases of society, and she is still trying to sift through how it should work for her.
Having grown up as a queer woman in America, I have learned to value my freedom of expression. I have learned to value my autonomy and my sexual freedom. I have learned to value my life as a woman and take pride in the fact that it is not dependent on male input. I do not seek validation from men or particularly crave interactions with them. This is where I feel that I differ from Ladydi and the dispositions Clement has highlighted in Prayers for the Stolen.
When Ladydi was a child, she had a stronger sense of independence than she did in her adolescence. She was unscathed by not growing up with men because she had strong women surrounding her. Those women inspired her, supported her, and offered her love, and it baffles me that she turned from that to become a woman who caters to men. It seemed to me that she felt alienated within her own gender and understood the privileges and restrictions that came with being a man versus being a woman. In order to combat that, she diluted herself to accommodate men who might carry her to a more favorable position within her society. Ladydi sought stability and permanence rather than conditional safety. It makes sense to me why she developed the way she did, from an objective standpoint, but subjectively my values are too misaligned with it. Gender is a weapon that I hope Ladydi learns to wield more effectively as she progresses, despite the ending of the book.
Works Cited
Clement, Jennifer. Prayers for the Stolen. New York: Penguin Random House LLC, 2014.
“Feminism.” Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, 11th ed., Merriam-Webster, 2003.
“Gender.” Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, 11th ed., Merriam-Webster, 2003.
“Gender Role.” Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, 11th ed., Merriam-Webster, 2003.
“Sex.” Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, 11th ed., Merriam-Webster, 2003.