Housewife, 54 and Other Observations

In 1937, poet Charles Madge in conjunction with anthropologist Tom Harrison developed a London-based project to “encourage a national panel of volunteers to reply to regular questionnaires on a variety of matters” (Massobs.org.uk, 2011).  The formal organization name, Mass Observation, grew from the early inquiries into a national campaign for the British citizens to conduct self-anthropological examinations of their everyday lives.  Mass Observation sent teams of paid investigators into every day scenarios where they would record people’s behavior and conversations in extraordinary detail.  An open call was made for submissions from citizens who either kept diaries or would be open to answering questionnaires provided by Mass Observation staff.  Published submitters composed Britain’s National Panel of Diarists.  One of the most noted Diarists to date is Nella Last. 

               In 1939, at the onset of World War II, Mass Observation diaries became integral components in the lives of British housewives.  Heightened political tensions, declaration of war, and constant fear of air raids left most of Europe in terrible stress.  For women like Nella Last, who only a year before had suffered from a nervous breakdown, sharing private thoughts in the name of patronage was therapeutic: she continued to submit diaries for nearly 30 years.  At 49 years old, Nella Last was experiencing the terror of her son being drafted by the military while dealing with the threat of air raids by carrying government issued gas masks with her constantly.  Her role within the household was perhaps typical of the time, but underappreciated by modern standards.  Nella’s diary sometimes reflects that while she may have felt underappreciated by her husband and son, she felt personal pride and duty to work within her home for the betterment of her family.  I do not intend to insinuate that pride and duty are rarities in the hearts and minds of housewives.  However, it is rare for those concepts to be shared publicly without the influence of patriarchy in entertainment media or news.  What is rare is the frank nature of Nella’s commentary.  It is authentic and familiar, like sitting around the kitchen table with an aunt or neighbor.  In a January 15, 1941 submission Nella wrote, “I guess a married woman who brings up a family and makes a home, is working jolly hard for her living. And don't you ever forget it. And don't get the lordly male attitude that thinking wives are pets - and kept pets at that.” (www.bbc.co.uk, 2011).  It is with this type of candour, as spoken to her enlisted son Cliff, that Nella makes the balance of her strength and fragility clear to herself and her reader.  The strength is present in her ownership of her kitchen table and hearth.  The fragility is the fact that she would warn her son not to speak ill toward women’s work, but never direct it to her husband who is the embodiment of the very “lordly male attitude” she criticizes.  The balance between the two is indicative of how close any member of society during World War II, or any war, could come to their own breaking point or breakthrough.   

The film Housewife, 49 based on the diaries of Nella Last depicts an early Nella as nervous and generally uncomfortable although she refers to herself as having a “cheery” disposition.  It seems as though the release of writing about her fears and dreams allows her character to open up and flourish over the course of the film.  It is as if the documentation of her own survival through a war gives her courage and confidence that may not have come without such challenges.  I am certain that some portion of this development was constructed to advance the plot for the purpose of the film.  Nonetheless, the diaries did have a profound effect on Nella as she continued to write them until near the time of her death. 

The diaries themselves were by-products of a larger conflict, the Second World War.  With her sons away in service and her husband apathetic as ever, Nella Last decided to work outside of her home for the first time in her life with the Women’s Royal Volunteer Service.  Over the course of the war, Nella Last worked with the organization that accommodated soldiers and families displaced and affected by air raids.  The work of the WRVS included but was not limited to making tea and refreshments for fire-fighters, knitting socks and bandages, collecting scrap metal, providing food and clothing for citizens, and sending care packages to prisoners of war.  The role of the WRVS’s role became more serious as the war dragged on.  Instead of making tea, the women began sending condolence cards to families of fallen soldiers.  The women who operated WRVS canteens and halls were primarily elders who were not able to work in factories or participate in Women’s Land Services, an agricultural program where women replaced men on farms during the war.  Total membership of WRVS reached over one million by the end of the war.  Involvement and purpose outside of the home had given Nella Last at least an opportunity to get farther away from her breakdown and closer to her self-reclamation and growth.

A parallel that I cannot stop myself from drawing refers to my own mother.  She is 54 years old and recently separated from my father after 22 years of marriage and a lifetime together.  My siblings and I are well into our adult years and her grandchildren do not live locally.  I have recently come to the realization that my mother’s identities since she was seventeen years old have been Mother, Aunt, Nana, and Wife.  Systematically, life has removed her necessity to exist in those roles on a daily basis and to say that she is devastated by this progression is an understatement.  My mother has spent my entire life at least, keeping things together.  Her children have been, for the most part, blissfully unaware of her internal battles as a woman.  She has been masterful in her ability to feed, clothe, chide, love, entertain and listen to my immediate family.  Whatever personal challenges she has had to face have been veiled by her constant claim that “I’ll be alright.”  It wasn’t until I began to struggle with my own womanhood that I questioned whether or not I, too would be alright.  The women in my family famously joke that black women aren’t allowed to have nervous breakdowns.  I often wish we were!  I envy Nella Last for falling apart “with the nerves” and putting herself back together again.  Because we are strong enough to breakdown in order to breakthrough, we are also strong enough to carry a nation through war and destruction with our hot tea and strong hands. 

My academic observations about female roles and expectations have caused me to view my mother’s impact on my opinions from a peripheral standpoint.  I have not properly examined her choices and strengths where they relate to her as an individual.  I have only seen her as my parent, not a person.  Perhaps this is the sin of the child against the mother for which we can never be forgiven.  I am not sure.  I understand now that my mother is in a place where she has to find a new identity to fill her days.  Nella Last found WRVS and Mass Observation as places to reinvent and reclaim herself.  I hope that my mother finds the courage to maybe have that breakdown, then experience her breakthrough.  If a breakdown is out of the question; which knowing my mother it absolutely is, I am giving her a puppy for Mother's Day.