In the preface to Judith Fetterley's 1978 The Resisting Reader: A feminist Approach to American Fiction, the author articulates the desire that her book "will be itself a form of teaching" (Fetterley vii). The dialogue which she wishes to begin is one which addresses the political nature of feminist criticism and embraces it en route to freeing our understanding of literature from the sexism which has been at the heart of the American literary tradition. In her Introduction, Fetterley asserts, "Literature is political" (Fetterley xi), and states that it is the mask of the apolitical which allows the dangerous myth that American literature speaks universal truths about the American experience.

Yet, as Fetterley explains, the American voice has been almost exclusively a male one. Therein lies the conflict for the female reader of American literature who is "co-opted into participation in an experience from which she is explicitly excluded; she is asked to identify with a self-hood that defines itself in opposition to her" (Fetterley xii). Through examples of American fiction, Fetterley's book attempts to examine gender as it is represented in American literature, uncovering instances of misogyny as well as affirmations of the patriarchy, while demonstrating that the female reader, in order to participate in the discourse of the literature, undergoes an immasculation. This immasculation involves women being led "to identify with a male point of view, and to accept as normal and legitimate a male system of values, one of whose central principles is misogyny" (Fetterley, xx). In addition, it is the conflict of being told "that to be male to be universal, to be American is to be not female" (Fetterley xiii). Thus, Fetterley sets up the aim of her book which is to teach others, by her example, how to become a resisting reader, recognizing the voice of American literature to be that of the patriarchy.

In the works Fetterley chooses to critique, one may see a type of evolution from a "boys will be boys" misogyny in "Rip Van Winkle", by Irving, through the feckless lament of the status quo in Anderson's "I Want to Know Why" and Hawthorne's "The Birthmark", to the gruesome, yet somewhat liberating story of Faulkner's "A Rose for Emily". A similar progression is traced through the American novel as Fetterley begins with a discussion of Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms and Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby to show women objectified as symbols of male desires, and then discusses James' The Bostonians and Mailer's An American Dream to show a further progression from a critical (if romanticized) view of patriarchy to a reactionary and violent affirmation of misogyny. Although Fetterley recognizes this movement as circular, she is also quick to point out that the blatant misogyny of American Dream opens itself to a feminist interpretation and that such an interpretation can provide a type of off-ramp for the beginning of something new in American literature and criticism.

Through her resistant reading, Fetterley seeks, as Adrienne Rich urged, to re-vision American literature and to destroy the dominant discourse from without, from the perspective of the woman who has been forced out of her own literary heritage, thereby empowering the female reader and opening up the system for change. Fetterley does not suggest that we abandon male literature in favor of all things feminine; instead,she recommends that women readers approach these works with the tools to "name the reality they do reflect and so change literary criticism from a closed conversation to an active dialogue" (Fetterley xxiii). She stresses that, in the past, women have been taught to think and read as men; they must now learn to read, and criticize, as women.

Although Fetterley makes her argument exceptionally well, she neglects some places where she could have more forcefully driven her message home. At times, in making statements about female characters, Fetterley fails to note how their alienation from the story mirrors that of the female reader whom she professes to be her primary concern. In addition, Fetterley comes dangerously close to saying that if a woman is moved by a story written by a man, she becomes immasculated. While her argument is not nearly so heavy-handed as this, her critique of love stories in particular seems to question the existence of real emotion between a woman and a man. Although she asserts that what is demonstrated in novels like A Farewell to Arms is submission rather than love, she does not tell us how, if at all, an equitable relationship might be portrayed. Likewise, her brutal treatment of Mailers novel, though justifiable, might have the effect of turning off some of her readers, particularly men (although Fetterley makes every effort to back up her interpretations with textual evidence). It is also true that, in the climate of post-modernism, many readers may want to point out that a specific masculine way of reading or a feminine way of reading does not exist, that each person responds to a text differently. Here, however, I think careful attention to Fetterley's argument may save her from this particular criticism. Fetterley is not arguing for a universal perspective from which women should read; rather, she is arguing against the universality already implied by texts in the American literary tradition. Perhaps the greatest drawback of the book for me was the lack of a conclusion. Such an addition would have clarified Fetterley's argument by allowing the reader to hear her ideas once again, this time against the backdrop of the critiques with which we were provided.

Despite these minor details, The Resisting Reader as a whole is a remarkable achievement. Fetterley's argument, because of her thorough close readings and because of her tone, is compelling and inspiring. Although Fetterley uses only eight texts to represent American literature, the prominence of these works makes up for the generalization. The fact that these texts have gained the status in the canon that they have says something of the patriarchy of canon formation. Although written in 1978, Fetterley's comments are not so out-dated as they would seem. She knew that once the task of unearthing women authors had reached a satisfactory conclusion, the question would remain of feminist criticism's usefulness in reading male-authored texts. The Resisting Reader demonstrates the liberating power feminist criticism can have, not only for women, but for everyone who recognize the restrictions of patriarchy on our literature, and above all, on our society.