When I was in elementary school, I read a few of Judy Blume’s books, specifically Superfudge. After matriculating, I didn’t even think about reading anymore of Blume’s books because, partly, I felt that I had outgrown them. Fast forward about thirty years, and a book club I’ve been attending read Blume’s 1978 novel Wifey, a novel that reviewers thought would tank her career because it is an adult novel about woman, Sandy Pressman, exploring her identity and sexuality while being confined in a marriage where her husband, Norman, wants her to conform to the ideals of the domestic housewife. Looking back on the novel in 2004, Blume wrote, “When I look at the book today, I can’t believe how fearless I was in my writing. I mean, all of thise sexual fantasies and escapades!”

There’s a lot to think about with Wifey, especially in relation to novels such as Kate Chopin’s The Awakening or other novels I want to read at some point such as Leila Slimani’s Adele. The discussions of Sandy finding herself apart from the pre-described roles that her mother, family, and husband have in mind for her is the center of the book. However, I don’t want to look at these aspects; instead, I want to look, similar to my exploration of Chopin’s The Awakening, at the ways that Wifey addresses race, notably since the novel takes place during the 1960s and early 1970s, and one scene right after John F. Kennedy’s assassination in November 1963 highlights the ways that the novel addresses race.

During the 1960 election, Sandy went against her husband’s wishes and secretly voted for Kennedy over Nixon, and she always felt a connection with Jackie Kennedy. The day of Kennedy’s assassination, Sandy rushes home from the hairdresser as the other women pull the hairdryers back over the heads and remain there, unfazed by the news. Arriving home, Sandy sees Mazie, the Pressman’s domestic, holding Sandy’s son Bucky as she tells her, “Oh, Mrs. Pressman . . . the president’s dead. He’s been shot in the head. Lord help us our president’s dead.” While Sandy reacts to Kennedy’s murder because of her feelings of connection with Jackie, Mazie reacts because she knows what Kennedy’s assassination means for the civil rights movement and she sees it as backlash to Kennedy’s positions.

Sandy changes into a black mourning dress, and when Norman gets home he asks her why she is wearing all black. When Sandy tells him, he explodes, telling her, “I think you’re really going off your rocker this time.” He tells her they have a dinner engagement with another family and insists she get ready, and Sandy refuses. During the argument, Mazie, already changed out of her uniform, approaches Sandy and says, “I’m going to take a few days off to go down to Washington . . . to the funeral . . . you know . . .” At this, Norman loses it and tells Mazie she can’t go because she has to look at Sandy. He refuses to take any responsibility to console his wife and requests that Mazie, a domestic, must do it for him. Mazie tells him she is distraught like Sandy and then turns to Sandy and tells her she’ll be gone a few days. Norman asks who will take care of the children, and Mazie replies that he should. Norman, having enough, fires her on the spot, and she kisses the children goodbye and leaves.

Sandy follows Mazie to the front door, crying that she doesn’t know what she’ll do without Mazie there. With that, Mazie exists the narrative, gone as soon as she arrives. Sandy turns towards Norman and vehemently yells at him for his callousness. However, she does not interrogate herself and her role. Instead of taking care of her children she does the same thing that Edna Pontellier does, leave them with a Black domestic worker. We can assume Mazie and the Creole nurse have families of their own, but neither Blume nor Chopin shows their domestic lives. Instead, they work for Sandy and Edna respectively, putting the employers’ family needs above their own families’ needs. Eventually, the Pressmans hire a Hispanic domestic, and like Mazie, we only see her serving the family.

In order to move up in the social world, Norman wants to sell their house and rub shoulders with the other members of the country club they join early in the novel. Enid, Norman’s mother, still has a connection to the house, and she doesn’t want Norman and Sandy to sell it to a Black family. At a lunch, Sandy’s friend Lisbeth asks her is they have sold the house yet. Sandy tells her they’ve had a few offers; then Lisbeth asks, “Are you going to sell it to blacks?” Sandy looks at her and tells her that “even though three out of four lookers are black “Norman refuses to sell to a Black family. Lisbeth replies, “That’s illegal, you know.”

The illegality of his actions doesn’t impact Norman. Rather, his mother’s views hold sway over him. Sandy tells Lisbeth, “I know, I know. I’ve tried to tell that to Norm, but Enid would never forgive him. You know how she feels about them.” Here, Sandy refers to Black families not as individuals but merely as “them,” stripping the individuals of any semblance of individuality and humanity she may have afforded them from the outset when saying “three out of four lookers are black.” The friends drop the discussion when their lunches arrive, and the conversation shifts Lisbeth’s open arrangement with her husband Vincent. While the discussion of selling the house to Black families comes up throughout the novel, it never has a sustained discussion apart from Enid’s staunch refusal that her son sell to a Black family and Lisbeth’s mention of the illegality of not selling to a Black family.

In the next post, I will examine a couple of more examples. Until then, what are your thoughts? As usual, let me know in the comments below. Make sure to follow me on Twitter @silaslapham.