Female Innocence vs. Female Cunning Theme Analysis

Though the story’s male characters-Jack Mooney and Mr. Doran—see Polly as innocent and in need of protection, both Mrs. Mooney and her daughter in fact turn out to be the story’s most skilled social navigators. Together, they wordlessly and intuitively collaborate on a successful bid to secure a proposal from Mr. Doran. Their cunning lies precisely in impersonating female innocence to achieve their own ends. And yet, though they’re presented as manipulative, and though Joyce’s portrayal of female characters has often been considered misogynistic, these female characters are in fact simply wily products of Dublin society—a society that scorns single women, leaves them few opportunities to support themselves, and is riddled with religious guilt and repression around sex, which women bear the brunt of in the form of harsh treatment for any sexual indiscretion. Thus, it’s not the women Joyce condemns, or even their manipulations, but rather the need for women to manipulate in order to make their way in early 20th-century Dublin.

Mrs. Mooney’s machinations are presented as natural and even necessary results of her life and struggles. She had to leave her alcoholic butcher husband when he “went for [her] with the cleaver one night.” Now, she deals “with moral problems as a cleaver deals with meat.” The repeated symbolism of the cleaver here indicates that when her husband failed her, Mrs. Mooney had no choice but to become the protector of her own family, which in this story means manipulating Mr. Doran into proposing, so that her daughter will be taken care of. As a single woman and business owner, Mrs. Mooney has to be careful with her resources. This constant accounting causes her to see Polly’s marriage as just another business matter, as emphasized by the listing of Polly’s future as just another item she must keep under lock and key: “When the table was cleared, the broken bread collected, the sugar and butter safe under lock and key, she began to reconstruct the interview which she had had the night before with Polly.”

Mrs. Mooney’s determination to see her daughter “married off” results from the pitiful options for young women at the time: unmarried women were either the subject of scandal (if they were known to have had love affairs), or a burden to their families (since in early 20th-century Dublin, there were few opportunities for women to make their own money). If she’s to avoid being a burden, Polly’s options are to find work or get married, but employment opportunities are scarce. She was previously employed outside of the household, but Mrs. Mooney withdrew her from the post when her “disreputable” father kept dropping in. But when Mrs. Mooney suspects Polly might not find a husband at the boarding house, she “began to think of sending Polly back to typewriting”—the very profession she’d removed her from previously. Thus, there seems to be only one possible job for a young woman, and Polly has already been removed from it. Meanwhile, romance is treacherous, and Mrs. Mooney is well aware of how harshly unmarried young women of the day can be judged for any sexual involvement: “It is all very well for the man: he can go his ways as if nothing had happened, having had his moment of pleasure, but the girl has to bear the brunt.”

For Mrs. Mooney and Polly, the only way to achieve a decent future for Polly is to impersonate the naivete expected of women—thus cementing the patronizing social structure that imprisons them. Polly exclaims to Mr. Doran, “O, Bob! Bob! What am I to do? What am I to do at all?” and even threatens to “put an end to herself.” And yet as soon as Mr. Doran leaves, she’s entirely calm, having clearly known what she was doing all along. It seems that Polly must act the fool in order to get what she wants, and submit to being entirely underestimated by the man she will marry, though she is far wilier than him. (The irony of Polly’s “What am I to do?” is heightened by prompt repetition in Mr. Doran’s voice—though when Mr. Doran asks “What am I to do?” he isn’t acting a part; he’s truly in despair.) Even the relationship between mother and daughter is damaged by the need to feign innocence. When they discuss Polly’s relations with Mr. Doran, “Both had been somewhat awkward, of course”—and both are awkward because they don’t wish to reveal that they were anything but innocent in the affair’s development.

Thus women control all the story’s events, yet are still condescended to by the story’s men. Mr. Doran is attracted to Polly’s “white instep” (notable since white is a common symbol of virginity) and the way “the blood glowed warmly behind her perfumed skin”—an image of perfect purity. Later, he remembers appreciating her “thoughtfulness” in warming up his dinner and leaving tumblers of punch for him on late nights. Yet all the while, Polly is “patiently” and “cheerfully” working in pursuit of her own “hopes and visions.” Meanwhile, other residents of the house “began to talk of the affair”—and talk of this kind is generally meant to punish or correct poor behavior. But Mrs. Mooney resists caving to the socially corrective force of scandal until “she judged it to be the right moment” to take advantage of the scandal. As such, Mrs. Mooney, like Polly—and by extension like all the women in this city of which the boarding house is a microcosm—cunningly twists society’s expectations of women to her own advantage, though doing so provides no escape from those expectations.