Uncharted territory of woman’s midlife turmoil

Joya Saikia

(The writer can be reached at joyasaikia1990@gmail.com.)

In today’s society, where discussing previously private or taboo topics has become more accepted, it’s also time to bring menopause into the open.

As highlighted in Ms. Magazine, a new wave of women is insisting that the next phase of their lives be acknowledged and valued. This movement, driven by a broad coalition of medical professionals, legal experts, social and racial justice advocates, business leaders, and celebrities, is gaining momentum. Some link this shift to generational dynamics, with around 6,000 Gen X women entering menopause daily in the U.S. These women are positioned between their postmenopausal mothers and mentors and the millennials, who are approaching or experiencing perimenopause. Jennifer Weiss-Wolf, Ms. Magazine’s executive director for partnerships and strategy, asserts, “Menopause is not an afterthought for us. We can no longer accept being treated as an afterthought by society.”

Numerous medical and non-fiction books have explored menopause, with “The New Menopause” by Mary Claire Haver currently on the New York Times bestseller list. Meanwhile, the newly released “All Fours” by Miranda July is being acclaimed as the first significant novel on perimenopause.

While it may not be the first, it stands out as the most powerful and poignant novel to date. Last year, Lisa Allardice highlighted the emerging trend of menopause-themed novels in The Guardian. She noted that “Broken Light” by Joanne Harris is one of the latest novels to tackle menopause. Fran Littlewood’s debut, “Amazing Grace Adams,” which follows a 45-year-old woman on a rampage in North London, was released with much fanfare earlier this year. Kirsten Miller’s “The Change,” a magical realist thriller about three midlife women discovering they have special powers, was a major hit last year. Guardian critic Laura Wilson even coined the term ‘hot-flush noir’ for this trend. Additionally, Marian Keyes, who has consistently championed the notion that women don’t wither after 37, is currently working on a new novel titled “Old Dog, New Tricks,” about a 49-year-old woman who has to stop HRT when she moves back to Ireland from New York. (In Ireland, women with gynaecological issues are often just told to “get on with it.”)

Allardice observes that back in 1999, when Joanne Harris released her bestselling novel “Chocolate,” she was told it wouldn’t succeed because it featured too many older characters. Harris recalls being told, “A book needs to be sexy, and it has to be about young people having sex, not old people just being unsightly.” She now questions, “Why do we always have to hear about the princesses? Why don’t we hear more about the wicked witches and stepmothers—because that’s what the princesses will eventually become?” These new novels boldly explore the lives of women who have entered middle age. As Victoria Smith passionately argues in her book “Hags,” men experience hormonal changes and mid-life crises too, but their responses—buying a new car or gadget, updating their wardrobe, or, if wealthy, acquiring a young trophy wife or girlfriend—are often admired. In contrast, women are ridiculed for trying to maintain their youth, as society holds older women in contempt. Many women have dedicated the best years of their lives to caring for their families, yet the moment they show a wrinkle or grey hair, they are cast aside. Ageing undeniably impacts women’s bodies more harshly, causing distressing symptoms that are rarely taken seriously. Since discussing “women’s issues” is seen as shameful, many women are caught off guard by the changes in their bodies—and sometimes minds—during this phase. Heather Corinna’s 2021 book, “What Fresh Hell Is This? Perimenopause, Menopause, Other Indignities, and You” aptly captures this struggle, likely drawing inspiration from Dorothy Parker’s famous quote.

In an interview with Liam Hess for Vogue, Miranda July reflected, “For a significant portion of your life, you identify as a young person—especially as a woman, you remain young for quite a while. Then, quite suddenly, that changes. Instead of looking forward to an indefinite peak, you find yourself in the middle, and looking forward means facing death. This shift is profound, and I wanted to explore its implications for sexuality and intimacy. It’s an uncharted, mysterious territory. Particularly for women, who have just transitioned from being young and heavily marketed to, represented in specific ways in film and TV, with everyone deeply invested in their reproductive lives, the flow of information suddenly stops. You find yourself searching for basic facts about what comes next.”

The unnamed protagonist of “All Fours” works in an artistic field and has achieved moderate fame. Married to a record producer, she has a bright child whom she chooses not to gender, using the pronoun “they.” At age 45, she decides to embark on a road trip from California to New York. Up until now, she has been a devoted wife and mother, working from her home garage, but a sense of ennui has begun to set in. At a party, she dons a tight skirt and sheer blouse and dances with abandon. The only man who notices her and winks is 80 years old. She muses, “Is that how old someone has to be to find me attractive these days?”

She never actually makes it to New York, instead choosing to stay in a small-town hotel, where she becomes infatuated with a young, attractive man. While this might seem clichéd, July turns the protagonist’s sexual escapades into something funny, sad, and subversive. More than rediscovering her sexuality, she revels in her newfound freedom from domestic chores. “‘I was free to do anything I wanted. No one to make breakfast for; no need to pack a five-part bento box lunch; no need to yell; put on your shoes!” Why should she bother continuing her journey to New York?

A troubling visit to the gynaecologist warns her that her libido is about to plummet. But unlike her grandmother and aunt, who chose to end their lives rather than confront the loss of their looks and the isolation of ageing, she resolves to cling to life and desire for as long as possible.

The title originates from a conversation with her friend and confidante, Jordi, who has recently created a sculpture of a headless woman on her hands and knees. Jordi explains that this position is inherently stable: “It’s hard to be knocked down when you’re on all fours.”

What if a woman’s desirability isn’t tied to her ability to bear children, especially in societies where childbirth rates are declining? Alejandra Rodriguez defies conventions by winning the Miss Buenos Aires title at the age of 60. While conventional beauty standards remain firm, this moment signals a welcome departure from ageism, at least temporarily.