
4 minute read
Martha's the Man
by Larsen Nichols
Excessive drinking, sexual openness, and extreme profanity—when we think of 1950s housewives, it’s safe to say that these are not the first qualities that come to mind. With the rise of social conservatism and the nuclear family in the post-WWII era, social expectations for men and women became firm. Women were to serve their families as wives and mothers while husbands went to work. But Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?’s Martha doesn’t adhere to this mold. She drinks and curses in excess. She antagonizes her husband more often than she obeys him. She makes sexual advances on another man. Over the course of the play, her character becomes defined by habits that are traditionally associated with the performance of masculinity. Edward Albee positions Martha as a uniquely masculine figure in this play, developing a critique of gender norms that still challenges audiences today and prompting the question: Though Martha’s performance of gender is revolutionary, does she actually have agency in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
While George and Martha do their fair share of lying over the course of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, Martha is certainly clear about one thing: “I’m loud, and I’m vulgar, and I wear the pants in this house because somebody’s got to.” Based on her dialogue and actions throughout the play, it’s certainly true. Martha employs this loudness and vulgarity to humiliate George (and later Nick) verbally and emotionally in the play. One of the most recognizable of these moments is when Martha criticizes George’s lack of aggression and drive in addition to other failings, calling him “a great…big…fat…FLOP!” Martha’s ridicule is so impactful that George breaks a glass bottle in anger. A wife speaking to her husband in this way (and more or less getting away with it) was almost unheard of during this era, and further highlights the unusual dynamics between George and Martha. Albee reveals that Martha has humiliated George physically as well, and it has, in Martha’s words, “colored [the couple’s] whole life.” As Martha recounts, a few years after they were married, Martha punched George in the jaw with a boxing glove, and he stumbled and fell into a huckleberry bush in front of his boss (Martha’s father) and presumably the whole faculty. The incident of physical violence in addition to Martha’s use of the story to humiliate George solidifies Martha’s powerful role in their relationship. With the way Martha treats George verbally and physically over the course of the play, Albee paints a clear picture of Martha’s masculine dominance over George.
Martha’s sexuality also plays a central role in her subversion of gender norms and majorly amplifies her agency as a character in the play. She is unapologetically sexual, even with company present: she changes into more seductive clothing; she kisses George passionately in front of Nick and Honey; and she recounts for the couple the story of her “revirginization” prior to marrying George. But her most sexually revolutionary act is seducing Nick, in front of her husband no less. While George and Nick only speak of infidelities, joking about “plowing” all the faculty wives and the faculty sport of “musical beds,” Martha is all action. She consistently comes onto Nick, and by the end of the second act, she convinces him to have sex with her (to make matters worse, in her and George’s marital bed). This seduction, conducted in front of George, angers George as Martha intended (though he doesn’t let her see his rage).

Once Martha has succeeded in conquering Nick and pissing off George, she takes her game a step further, making Nick (who we gather has not performed well sexually) her “houseboy” for the rest of the night. At the top of Act III, Martha orders Nick to open the front door for George and get him a drink. George’s unsurprised reaction to this gives the audience the impression that this is a normal occurrence, and has happened to George before. Given the predominant trope during this time period of husbands being the unfaithful ones, Martha’s seduction of Nick positions her once again as a masculine figure in her and George’s relationship.
So Martha wears the pants in the relationship. Why does it matter? Albee’s characterization of Martha was highly unusual for this time period (or any time period, for that matter).
Consider the social attitudes of the ’50s: white people were leaving ethnically diverse cities for suburbs, and as a result, Levittowns (predominantly white suburban developments) were popping up all over America. The nuclear family was lauded as the American ideal, reinforced by the media and widespread social attitudes. With the return of soldiers from WWII, women were returning to their “rightful” place in the home and taking care of the children while their husbands went to work. While second-wave feminism was starting to take shape in the early ’60s, the revolutionary book credited with sparking it, Betty Friedan’s The Feminine Mystique, wouldn’t come out until 1963, the year after Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? premiered. Perhaps Martha was, in some way, a physicalization of these feminist sentiments that were beginning to brew in the early ’60s. In the face of widespread gender norms that reinforced the idea of women’s deference to their husbands, a loud, vulgar, and sexually promiscuous woman like Martha is truly remarkable. No wonder the character is commonly regarded among actors as “the role of a lifetime.”
But for all this talk of usurping of gender norms, does Martha actually have agency in Virginia Woolf? While she successfully conquers Nick, deceives Honey, and dismantles George’s self-esteem, at the conclusion of the play, she falls at the hand of her husband. At the end of a long-fought, long-winded battle, George plays his final card: the death of his and Martha’s imaginary son. Martha’s infertility and failure to be a mother is thrown in her face, and all of her comforting fantasies are stripped away. She’s left bereft by George’s decision to kill their illusion, raging at him and finally accepting this new reality. There are no more cards to play, and the party is finally over, with only George and Martha left to pick up the pieces. So while Albee may have written a revolutionary female character, ultimately, Martha’s fate falls into the hands of a man.