Sophie Ward's 'Our Better Natures' Reimagines Andrea Dworkin in Ambitious 1970s Tale
Sophie Ward, the actor turned writer known for her Booker-longlisted novel 'Love and Other Thought Experiments', sets herself a new literary challenge in her latest work, 'Our Better Natures'. This ambitious novel delves into the philosophical conundrums of justice, freedom, and power, set against the backdrop of 1970s America. Ward employs a tripartite structure to weave together the lives of three women—two real historical figures and one fictional character—each grappling with social justice in an unjust world.
A Clever Narrative Structure with Historical and Fictional Threads
In 1971, as the Manson Family trial concludes and anti-Vietnam war protests surge, Ward introduces her protagonists. Andrea Dworkin, the real-life feminist writer, escapes an abusive husband in the Netherlands and attends a debate between Noam Chomsky and Michel Foucault on justice and power. Meanwhile, in the United States, poet Muriel Rukeyser, another real figure, throws herself into activism despite health warnings from her lover, literary agent Monica McCall. The third character, Phyllis Patterson, is a fictional creation loosely based on Ward's Korean-American wife's family history. Phyllis welcomes her son home from a South Korean army base to rural Illinois, striving to connect with her new Korean daughter-in-law and grandchildren.
Ward cleverly uses hinge points to connect these women's stories. Andrea becomes Muriel's assistant, though their relationship remains underdeveloped on the page. In the background, the imprisoned South Korean poet Kim Chi-ha serves as a link, with Muriel campaigning for his release and discovering a connection to Phyllis's daughter-in-law, June. This allows Ward to intertwine Phyllis and Muriel's narratives in a chaotically accelerated yet brilliant denouement.
Challenges and Triumphs in Character Portrayal
The shifting perspectives in the tripartite structure present challenges, sometimes making sections feel like annual catchups rather than intimate daily shares, especially as the story spans to 1975. Andrea Dworkin's character, in particular, can become less engaging as she publishes books and fights for revolution. Ward faces the difficulty of blending real and imagined people, animating Dworkin into speech but occasionally rendering her thoughts in awkwardly fake declarative sentences.
However, the structure's gain is a vivid sense of a world unfolding in parallel across continents, as these women confront the shared dilemma of fostering tolerance and fellowship. The real triumph of the book is Phyllis Patterson, a generous yet querulous housewife who finds strength during wartime and shares her bedroom with a chicken named Dolly. When Phyllis's husband Boyd dies sacrificially for June, Phyllis grapples with anger, making forgiveness a struggle. Her journey culminates in seeing her Illinois cornfield through June's eyes, understanding her daughter-in-law's homesickness, and movingly shedding her anger to recognize their shared spirit.
Themes of Justice, Power, and Generational Legacy
Ward's novel offers little hope for justice in the wider world, mirroring contemporary struggles. Through Dworkin's interactions with Foucault and Chomsky, the book explores how justice often serves as an instrument of power. Ward dramatizes her own ambivalence about whether to rage against the loss of revolutionary activism or accept it and focus on personal justice. Phyllis's realization that her life is interconnected with others' moments highlights the novel's core message: the need for sympathetic engagement to foster personal power and justice.
In the end, it's Soozie, Phyllis's granddaughter, who bridges generations, embodying the legacy of both women. Muriel's story also reflects this generational generosity, as she accepts that her efforts may fail but the work will continue. Ward movingly demonstrates that the novel's strength lies in revealing how sympathetic engagement can free us, day after day, in a world where justice remains elusive.
