Peering Through the Keyhole: Panopticism and Free Indirect Discourse in Feminist Narratology

In his 1975 work Discipline and Punish, Michael Foucault conceptualized the theory of panopticism— the idea that individuals will self-regulate behavior when they believe themselves to be under constant surveillance, even when said surveillance is merely perceived, rather than actual. Originally designed for prisons by Jeremy Bentham, the Panopticon was an architectural form intended to exert control over prisoners by providing this sense of surveillance, thus reducing the need for direct reinforcement. Foucault applied this theory to broader societal structures, positing panopticism as a mechanism of power that extends into various spheres beyond the prison system, including workplaces, schools, public spaces (including digital spaces), and even, most disturbingly, the self.

     In her essay “Some Call it Fiction: On the Politics of Domesticity,” Nancy Armstrong draws a connection between Foucault’s concept of panopticism and the internalization of patriarchal norms in women.  “Those of us who have grown up within an institutional culture consequently carry around a voice much like that of a fictional narrator in his or her head. Sensitive to the least sign of disorder - a foul word, a piece of clothing undone, some food sliding off one's fork, or, worse still, some loss of control over bodily functions - the presence of this voice, now nearly two hundred years old, more surely keeps us in line than fear of the police or the military,” (page 1425). She continues: “Thus we internalize a state that is founded on the conflict between self and state interests, and we feel perfectly justified in enacting its power — which is, after all, only good for oneself — upon others,” (page 1426). The internalized patriarchal voice vies to warp women’s interests to align with those of the state or dominant institutions, so that women come to believe that adherence to societal expectations is not only in their best interest but also beneficial for social order. For panopticism to be effective in controlling women on an individual level, the given expectations must be imbued in her to a level that is at least partially subconscious; even if she becomes aware of the distinction between herself and the internalized voice, the consequences of not abiding by its rule must be severe enough to prevent her from acting subversively.

     Armstrong’s analysis highlights how women particularly and acutely manifest self-surveillance through their appearance. “Believing in the presence of a self that is essentially subversive, [women] keep watch over ourselves — in mirrors, on clocks, on scales, through medical exams, and by means of any number of other such practices.” Through the careful curation of their appearance and behavior, women become both the subject and the enforcer of patriarchal standards.

Feminist Narratology and Free Indirect Discourse

     In the introduction to their book Narrative Theory Unbound, Robyn Warhol and Susan S. Lanser describe feminist narratology as the study of “women (and sometimes men) writers, narrators, plots, and sometimes characters, as well as the gendered and gendering impact of particular narrative strategies upon flesh-and-blood readers,” (page 6). This framework explores not simply what is narrated, but how it is narrated, emphasizing the ways in which storytelling can reflect, perpetuate, and subvert gender dynamics and conventions. In other words, feminist narratology asks how gender is present in a work — not merely in character and plot, but how it is woven into the tapestry of a work’s structure, syntax, and grammar.

     Free indirect discourse is the literary technique of writing characters’ first-person thoughts in the voice of a third person narrator. First popularized in the early 1800s, the narrative style blurs the boundaries between character and narrator, mirroring Armstrong’s “fictional narrator” that exists in one’s head. Thus, free indirect discourse exemplifies the way in which external power structures seep into the consciousness of individuals – and in this case, women - shaping their thoughts behaviors, and self-perception.

     Jane Austen is often credited as the pioneering author of free indirect discourse. Her 1811 novel Sense and Sensibility utilizes the style to provide readers with a vivid and nuanced understanding of her character’s thought processes. For instance, in chapter 16, our protagonist Marianne considers the potential impact of her behavior: “Marianne would have thought herself very inexcusable had she been able at all to sleep the first night after parting from Willoughby. She would have been ashamed to look her family in the face the next morning, had she not risen from her bed in more need of repose than when she lay down in it,” (page 58). That Marianne would be “ashamed to look her family in the face” is indicative of the self-surveillance she engages in. She is not simply concerned for her own feelings, but how others would perceive her reaction. The internalized expectations lead her to carefully watch her behavior, as well as alter her performance so as to appease her family, and by detention, society. The use of free indirect discourse in this passage allows the reader to see how Marianne’s thoughts are intertwined with the patriarchal standards that dictate how women should express propriety; it reveals not only her personal emotions but the broader social structures that govern her behavior.  

        The opening to Joyce Carol Oates’ short story “Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?” utilizes free indirect discourse when introducing the reader to the teenage protagonist, Connie. “She was fifteen and she had a quick, nervous giggling habit of craning her neck to glance into mirrors or checking other people’s faces to make sure her own was all right. Her mother, who noticed everything and knew everything and hadn’t much reason any longer to look at her own face, always scolded Connie about it. “Stop gawking at yourself. Who are you? You think you’re so pretty” she would say. Connie would raise her eyebrows at these familiar old complaints and look right through her mother, into a shadowy vision of herself as she was right at the moment: she knew she was pretty and that was everything,” (page 1). Connie’s “nervous giggling habit” of checking her reflection in mirrors or seeking validation from other people’s faces reflects the panopticism self-surveillance that women are conditioned to practice. She is always aware of how her appearance may be perceives, and she monitors herself constantly, even when no one is watching, to the point where it has become an involuntary habit. This behavior is reinforced by her mother’s criticism, who acts as a form of disciplinary power, since it emphasizes to Connie that her appearance is subject to constant judgment.

     Through free indirect discourse, Oates’ narrative delves into Connie’s internalization of this disciplinary power’s gaze. Although she outwardly dismisses her mother’s complaints, she simultaneously absorbs the cultural emphasis on beauty, which is displayed in her belief that “she knew she was pretty and that was everything.” The narrator of this statement is not describing Connie’s worldview from a strictly third-person perspective — she is inhabiting her beliefs and values.

        The connection between free indirect discourse in women’s literature and Foucault’s panopticism reveals the often subtle ways in which patriarchal power seeps into individual consciousness and narrative form. Through the narrative style, the internal dialogues of characters like Marianne and Connie become accessible to readers, exposing the way these systems of power are reproduced within their heads, even without conscious awareness. No text, or perhaps author for that matter, articulates the inescapable nature of this internalization more succinctly and accurately than Margaret Atwood in her novel The Robber Bride:

“Male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies? Up on a pedestal or down on your knees, it's all a male fantasy: that you're strong enough to take what they dish out, or else too weak to do anything about it. Even pretending you aren't catering to male fantasies is a male fantasy: pretending you're unseen, pretending you have a life of your own, that you can wash your feet and comb your hair unconscious of the ever-present watcher peering through the keyhole, peering through the keyhole in your own head, if nowhere else. You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman. You are your own voyeur.”