The Peculiar Case of Carrie Mathison, Or: Be That Woman or Die Trying

With the upcoming season premiere of my all-time favorite binge watching delights, Showtime's Homeland, I'm already hyped for the return of one of the most fully fledged, nuanced and refreshing female protagonist that contemporary US-American prime time drama has to offer: Carrie Mathison.

Many of you, my dear readers, might agree (like this commentary), while even more will differ (see here and here), in particular because the character of Carrie seems to lend itself so perfectly to be read as both a feminist role model and the worst thing that has happened to the televisual portrayal of women since the neoliberal, post-feminist fantasy of Sex and the City.

So, what to make of bi-polar, single mother, CIA agent Carrie Mathison, played by Claire Danes? Which one shall it be - Yay, she's a feminist? Nay, she's so not?

Picture: Showtime

Among the wealth of popular and academic commentary on the subject, I found the article by Emily Rapp, professor at the University of California, the most nuanced and elucidating. In it, Rapp asks the question of what it means to be 'a good woman'. Having walked this earth as the first-hand addressees of this question for the better part of our lives, most of us will probably be able to supply a spontaneous definition of our own, which I assume doesn't diverge too much from Rapp's list: be beautiful, but also be happy, be comfortable in your body no matter what, eat a lot and eat healthy, but also indulge yourself from time to time, be mentally stable, have a fulfilling social life, care for your friends and family, lend an open ear to your friends in need, have a satisfying sex life with (if possible multiple) orgasms, find love or die trying, be active, do Yoga, travel, E.N.J.O.Y. this world as a woman - and don't forget to post regular proofs of your awfully enjoyable, oh-so-good life on Instagram, preferably with the hashtag #blessed. 

Sounds exhaustive? It is! Yet most female characters presented to us on contemporary television do exactly this. Yes, they have their problems, ranging from extra-marital affairs to political intrigue to questions of reproductive health, ageism, and career choices, depending on the genre and the audience. But overall, they try to make it all work. We as viewers revel in their failures, but we also continue to root for them because of their constant, relentless efforts at Life with a capital L. Olivia Pope, Hannah Horvath, Claire Underwood, Khaleesi Daenerys Targarye, Leslie Knope, Alicia Florrick, Fiona Goode - they are our modern-day heroines because they are, despite all the drama, the disappointments, the obstacles, the hardships and failures that life throws at them, Strong Women - or at least they try to be.

Picture found here.

Not Carrie. Having watched four seasons of Homeland and anxiously waiting for the fifth, I get the sneaking suspicion that Carrie Mathison doesn't give a flying f**k about trying. This complete and utter refusal (or shall we say reluctance, as 'refusal' still reeks too much of an active choice) to even try to make 'it' (i.e. life, your relationships, your mental health, your well-being, your body, your sex) work strikes me as noble, inspiring, and, frankly, a great relief. Carrie is a hot mess in a lot of regards, she's weak, she's sick, she's careless to the point of destroying other people's lives, both literally and figuratively, her morals are more than questionable, she's a bad mother and an even worse romantic partner, she has no sense of boundaries between her work and her private life, she's high drama, she's hysterical, impulsive, complicated, and obsessive to the point of madness. She doesn't do any sports, has never set foot in a Yoga studio (except for investigative purposes), lives on instant noodles and white wine, and doesn't seem to put much of an effort into her clothes and hairdo. 

Frankly, this sounds a lot like me on a bad day, and it sure feels good to watch a (impossibly stylized, aesthetically lit and softly retouched) rendering of my beautiful, broken, messy self depicted in high gloss on prime time TV.

In Emily Rapp's words:

What I appreciate about Carrie is what a highly functioning mess she is—a real person, a human person, a flawed person, a person that makes me feel, weirdly, proud.

Is it strange to feel pride watching a scripted television series about a woman that is effective at her job but also appears to have a massive self-destruct button? Maybe.

But what I see in the character of Carrie—the strange, fantastical, beautiful mess that makes her terrific at her job as CIA station chief and an outright failure as a partner, a mother, a friend—is that she doesn’t care about having a perfect butt, or having a hobby, or even taking care of others. Her goal is singular: to be good at what she does, at all costs. It’s not the lesson women are normally taught, and in this way it is refreshing, if limited.

It seems to me that this is a liberty that isn't often granted to women, both on screen and off: That of not being strong and functioning and happy and 'normal', but yes, despite these flaws, being just as deserving of dignity and respect as any beloved, dysfunctional male character with his quirks, eccentricities, vanities, neuroses, personal shortcomings, questionable morals, nonchalance, and geniality bordering on the insane. Because frankly, Carrie does an awfully good job at the CIA, perhaps exactly because of indiscriminately failing in any other compartment. 

Here's an audacious thought: Could this 'failure', instead of being purely accidental and hence correctable, also contain the potential for emancipation from the constant struggle of (female) self-improvement, be it physical, mental or intellectual? Others have written more expertly about the poetics and politics of failure (Judith Jack Halberstam's The Queer Art of Failure comes to mind), but I dare you to allow yourself this sweet surrender every now and then and just stop trying to be that woman.  

An interesting side note: All the guys with whom I talked about Homeland had barely taken notice of Carrie as a (physically, intellectually, or otherwise) attractive and complex character. When asked about the female characters on the show, the most frequent reply I got was: 

Yeah, Carrie's alright, I guess... But have you seen Brody's wife?! She's sooo hot!

May I play the devil's advocate and suggest that Jessica Brody's attractiveness is as much tied to her physical beauty as the fact that she's not the literally obsessive 'crazy girl', she's devoted to her family and isn't too career-obsessed to leave them behind, she doesn't work a male job, she dresses in more alluring clothes than plain pants suits, she seldom loses her temper and yells at her superiors, she doesn't tell the big boys what to do, she is forgiving, nurturing and an active mother, she fights and struggles, she's committed and strong, and above all: She tries to keep it all together. What a relief to see Carrie losing it, again and again and again...

Picture found here.