Stanley and the Women by Kingsley Amis
"Stanley and the Women" by Kingsley Amis is a novel that delves into the complex dynamics between men and women, particularly focusing on the protagonist Stanley Duke and his tumultuous relationships with various female figures in his life. The narrative is structured into four parts, reflecting the psychological and emotional "onset," "progress," "relapse," and "prognosis" of Stanley's son, Steve, who faces the challenges of schizophrenia. While Steve's mental health is a central issue, the novel largely explores Stanley's perception of the irrational behaviors exhibited by the women surrounding him, such as his son's doctor, Trish Collings, and his wives, Nowell and Susan.
Amis presents a provocative examination of gender dynamics, suggesting that women engage in a form of irrationality that men cannot afford to display. The conversations and interactions between Stanley and the female characters often highlight misunderstandings and manipulations that contribute to a sense of frustration and conflict. This culminates in a portrayal of marriage as a recurring struggle, with characters seemingly repeating past mistakes. The work reflects Amis' satirical take on feminism and the complexities of male and female relationships, creating a narrative that challenges readers to consider the underlying societal norms and personal behaviors that influence these dynamics. Despite its engaging dialogue, the novel raises questions about the depth of character development, especially concerning the women portrayed, leaving readers to ponder the broader implications of the relationships depicted.
Stanley and the Women by Kingsley Amis
First published: 1984
Type of work: Social satire
Time of work: The mid-1980’s
Locale: London
Principal Characters:
Stanley Duke , the advertising manager of a London newspaperSteve Duke , his son by his first marriage, a young man suffering from schizophreniaNowell Hutchinson , Stanley’s first wife, an actressSusan , Stanley’s second wife, an assistant literary editor of a London newspaperTrish Collings , the doctor in charge of Steve’s caseBert Hutchinson , Nowell’s second husband, a television producer
The Novel
Stanley and the Women is divided into four parts, “Onset,” “Progress,” “Relapse,” and “Prognosis.” These refer most obviously to Stanley Duke’s son Steve, who at the start of the novel returns from a holiday abroad, shows immediate signs of disturbance, is diagnosed as schizophrenic, and is eventually hospitalized. Later, he is released into his father’s care but continues to show violent behavior, culminating in an accusation by his stepmother that he has attacked and stabbed her with a knife. He is returned to the hospital. The novel ends with no sign of his being cured.
Yet the main action of the novel concerns itself less with Steve, whose case is too inscrutable to be a primary interest, than with what his father perceives as the continuing irrational behavior of a whole sequence of women. Foremost among these is Trish Collings, the doctor appointed to look after Steve, who (again in Stanley’s perception) shows immediate hostility to her patient’s father and guides her treatment of Steve entirely with the aim of throwing guilt upon Stanley. She is abetted in this, though, by Nowell Hutchinson, Stanley’s first wife, and as the novel progresses, the reader begins very slowly to think that Stanley’s second wife, Susan, who has in the beginning seemed an ideal partner, is “on the other side” as well, concerned above all to secure her husband’s total attention and refusing to allow any of it to be redirected to her stepson. Near the end, her claim that she has been stabbed by Steve is wound was self-inflicted. Susan, however, takes offense at the merest hint of doubt and leaves Stanley immediately—only, in the very last words of the novel, to propose a reconciliation to which Stanley makes no answer.
There is no clear “prognosis” as to how Stanley’s relationships with women will continue, but there is every suggestion that these relationships are themselves a kind of disease. Several characters within the novel suggest that people make the same mistakes in their second marriages as they did in their first, so that marriage becomes a recurrent illness like malaria. This is at any rate superficially true of Stanley (twice married to determined but insecure and underachieving women), as of his first wife, Nowell (twice married to very heavy drinkers), and seemingly even of the novel’s authority figure, Dr. Nash, who for all of his eminence as a psychologist seems to have been married unsuccessfully four or five times and to be making no improvement. It has to be said, though, that Kingsley Amis does not complete the parallel between Steve’s illness and Stanley’s by suggesting that it is a woman who has driven Steve mad. It could have been, but no one ever finds out. The novel presents many pictures of irrationality but does not claim that all stem from the same cause.
The Characters
If the novel has a general thesis, however, it is that women are capable of a mode of infuriatingly irrational behavior which men are simply not allowed to exhibit. This thesis is highly provocative, and to make any impact at all it has to be shown working in practice, repeatedly and realistically. The novel stands or falls, accordingly, on a sequence of conversations in which Stanley’s good intentions are defeated and ridiculed by one woman or another. Are the conversations credible? Do they create a consistent sense of character? Do individualities stand out from a general evocation of “femaleness”?
The first of these questions, at least, can be answered positively. Amis is a close observer and a skillful reporter and, throughout the novel, succeeds admirably in creating scenes which look recognizable, have all the component parts of ordinary conversation, but nevertheless work out as cumulatively ominous. He turns ordinary bad manners into something more sinister. A simple example comes from the minor character of Susan’s sister Alethea. She has the very common habit of never letting anyone else finish a sentence, even when it is a reply to one of her questions. She asks Stanley how things are going in Fleet Street (which is polite enough) but immediately moderates this by asking him if he has had any “good scoops.” Since Stanley is an advertising manager, this is hardly his job, but he tries gamely to frame a polite reply; Alethea, however, has already started talking about her house. A few moments later, she again addresses a mildly contemptuous remark to Stanley about “rich socialists” (she thinks that he is one which is false. but once everyone has heard a conversation such as this one. Yet the reader, put on the alert by many similar events, can hardly fail to draw the conclusion that Alethea, like many others in reality, has no interest in other people. Her conversation is like her mother’s car, scarred by collision after collision, because neither woman is capable of respecting, or even of noticing, the elementary rights of others.
Alethea is only a minor nuisance. Both more serious and more eerie are Stanley’s conversations with Dr. Collings. Her trick (again all too recognizable) is to answer any question with another question, and almost invariably a “loaded” question, one which implies the guilt, inadequacy, or bad faith of the other speaker. The first words Stanley ever says to her are, “What do you want?” Since she is standing by his office desk in what is supposed to be a security area, this seems reasonable, if brusque; she must be there on business. Her reply immediately puts him in the wrong by adopting the expectation of a social conversation: “There’s no need to be unfriendly, surely?” She then, without disclosing who she is, starts to ask questions about the just-hospitalized Steve, unnerving Stanley thoroughly; when he refuses to answer any more, she reveals her official position, by then having “convicted” Stanley fairly thoroughly of aggression, insensitivity, and all the vices that might be expected to produce a disturbed child. As with Alethea, though in a subtler mode, her drive is always to retain control of a conversation or of a relationship. Once one has accepted this diagnosis of her invariably poor manners, it becomes more plausible that she would first adapt Steve’s treatment to her theories rather than to his case, and finally threaten to discharge him uncured (and still dangerous) as a way of punishing his father for displays of independence.
All the female characters in this novel have individual ways of speaking. Each is socially recognizable, each recognizably unfair. Their cumulative effect is very considerable in supporting Amis’ misogynist thesis. To answer the third question raised at the start of this section, they do individualize characters within a general female continuum.
What they do not do is create a full sense of personality. The women in the novel are all opaque. Neither Stanley nor the reader can understand how they think or how they have grown up this way. Revealingly, the only explanation given for Susan’s behavior is made by Lindsey Lucas, a minor female character on Stanley’s “side,” who tells a few anecdotes about her student life. Susan, she suggests, is a compulsive attention seeker who cannot bear competition. This suggestion confirms Stanley’s opinion at that moment. Yet why, one wonders, had he never noticed before? How can Susan (and Nowell and Collings) have functioned in society for so long if they are as self-centered as Stanley and Lindsey believe? These questions are not unanswerable, but they are not answered. “The women,” in this novel, are presented only from the outside.
Critical Context
Stanley and the Women appears as a work of disillusionment strongly similar to the author’s earlier novel, Jake’s Thing (1978), which ended with the central character refusing treatment for his impotence on the ground that he was safer as he was. Both novels are, however, marked reversals of Amis’ The Riverside Villas Murder (1973) or The Alteration (1976). Amis’ earlier writings were also distinguished by a strong sympathy for the position of sexually exploited young women, as in Take a Girl Like You (1960) or I Want It Now (1968). One can only say that late in his career Amis has swung from one side of the sexual debate to the other, oddly mirroring an earlier political swing from Left to Right.
One may note, though, that scorn for modish psychology has been with Amis at least since The Anti-Death League (1966). If there is a consistency in his position, it is that of the satirist who attacks whatever seems strongest and most fashionable. Stanley and the Women is not an unbalanced work, but it does recognize that restraint and balance are not the satirist’s most useful tools. Its achievement is to have stated a case against feminism, no more violent than many feminist cases and considerably more amusing than most. The embarrassment of some of its critics shows only the strength of the position Amis has attacked.
Sources for Further Study
Adams, Phoebe. Review in The Atlantic. CCLVI (November, 1985), p. 143.
Booklist. LXXXI, July, 1985, p. 1474.
Fromberg, Susan. Review in The New York Times Book Review. XC (September 22, 1985), p. 9.
Gardner, Philip. Kingsley Amis, 1981.
Gray, Paul. Review in Time. CXXVI (September 30, 1985), p. 74.
Los Angeles Times. September 25, 1985, V, p. 8.
The New Yorker. LXI, October 21, 1985, p. 149.
Newsweek. CV, February 4, 1985, p. 80.
Publishers Weekly. CCXXVIII, July 26, 1985, p. 155.
Sunday Times (London). Review. May 20, 1984, p. 45.
The Times Literary Supplement. Review. May 25, 1984, p. 571.
The Wall Street Journal. CCVI, September 23, 1985, p. 28.
Washington Post Book World. XV, September 1, 1985, p. 3.