The greatest sorrow of a 'woman writer' is that she remains a “woman writer” and never becomes simply a 'writer'. It is known that at least 4,200 years ago, there lived a woman writer—Enheduanna—of the Mesopotamian civilization, now present-day southern Iraq. The Sumerian writer Enheduanna composed her works in the first person. From that ancient time to today, countless women have come and gone, written so many things, yet remained labeled only as 'women writers'.
Now, in the Egyptian civilization, those hieroglyphs on the walls—were they all carved only by men? Were only men the ones to make marks on papyrus leaves? Still, at least in Mesopotamia, a woman was acknowledged! What a sorrow that is—such deep sorrow. In the literary world, she is not accepted as simply a 'writer', and in her household, she is not seen as an ordinary 'housewife' either. After all, just staying at home does not make one a housewife—why should she know about so many things? Why study so much? And without any reason, in the stillness of the night, she sits down to write!
But the woman knows that she must first finish all the household chores, calm the child, care for the elderly, and entertain her partner—only then can she sit down to write. And when she finally does, no one will think, “Writing is a noble task; let me bring her a cup of tea.” No one will call her to the table, saying, “Come while the rice is still hot,” knowing she’s burdened with her writing. Because writing isn’t considered real work—especially when a woman does it.
Nature, family, and society have given women so many responsibilities that finding time to write amidst them all becomes an act of struggle. Ashapurna Devi, Mahasweta Devi, and many others have left marks of that struggle. In reality, raising a child alone can be a full-time life’s work.
Recently, the Mumbai actress Rani Mukerji said, “If men were biologically capable of bearing children, there would be no wars in the world.” Indeed, the social burden of family and child-rearing is placed almost entirely on women. Society expects her to fulfill specific gender roles. That’s why even in nineteenth-century Britain, Charlotte Bronte had to publish her novels under the pseudonym "Currer Bell.” When readers later discovered her true identity, they exclaimed, “This writer is a woman? What kind of woman could she be!”
But the woman knows that she must first finish all the household chores, calm the child, care for the elderly, and please her partner—only then can she sit down to write. And when she finally does, no one will think of her writing as a noble act and bring her a cup of tea.
Only 20pc are women
Just as in children’s games there’s always someone called 'the weak player', in the literary world women are often seen in a similar way—as the 'soft' participants. Let her write if she wants; her work will surely be gentle and delicate. If she insists on writing, it’s assumed her work won’t be sharp or bold—it will be “feminine,” full of love and romance. She must be a poet, people assume—writing about love, disappointment, or heartbreak.
Because of this perception, many think women don’t need much education or intellectual depth to write. Men’s writing, on the other hand, is thought to have action, struggle, and war—serious stuff worth reading. Who would want to read something so “soft”? Moreover, if a piece of writing cannot be examined through a dialectical lens, the so-called “serious readers” won’t even pick it up. Thus, it’s often assumed that women’s writing lacks structure, significance, or surprise.
Globally, this bias shows in the numbers: fewer books by women are published, and fewer readers read them. An Oxford study found that only 28 per cent of books published worldwide are written by women. In Bangladesh, only 20 per cent of the books published at the Ekushey Book Fair are authored by women.
Women’s writing cannot be boxed into a single genre. Just as readers know they must turn to Agatha Christie for mystery thrillers, women writers like Nadine Gordimer, Toni Morrison, and Arundhati Roy have written profoundly political works. In Bangladesh, Rizia Rahman, Selina Hossain, and Shaheen Akhtar have explored political upheavals in their fiction. Many contemporary women writers are now portraying society’s contradictions more sharply than ever before. So there’s no reason to dismiss women’s writing as soft or sentimental.
Yet, it’s telling that JK Rowling—author of the globally celebrated Harry Potter series—had to publish under the gender-neutral name 'JK Rowling' instead of 'Joanne Rowling' to gain acceptance in the male-dominated literary world.
When she wants to write, it is assumed that her work won’t be sharp or bold; it will be 'feminine' in nature, filled with love and romance. She must be writing poetry—love poems, perhaps about despair or failure. Because of the belief that this is the natural subject matter of a woman’s writing, it is often assumed that she doesn’t need much education or training to write.
On the other hand, a large part of society assumes that women write only about feminism; in simple terms, their writing is seen as overly feminist. People expect it to be biased in favour of women, even hostile toward men. Therefore, it is considered better not to read such work. Even at the start of the feminist wave in the early nineteenth century, such misconceptions and prejudices were not as strong as they are today, in the era of the fourth wave. It seems as if the whole world stands against women and their development. And it’s not just the literary world—what profession allows women to be safe or respected without hesitation?
Problems at home and outside
The struggles of 'women writers' are somewhat unique. Intellectual work demands focus and concentration. If a woman immerses herself in any task, it immediately raises suspicions in her family and society. She is labeled as neglecting household responsibilities—this becomes her constant companion. When she engages with the outside world in the name of writing, society opens the door to criticism: What is she writing that so many people know her? When a man gains recognition through writing, it is celebrated as the charisma of his work. When a woman gains recognition, it is often interpreted as her using her personality, beauty, intimacy, or simply her womanhood to gain advantage.
Literature is a collective endeavor—it captures a particular time, and contemporary writers make it accessible to future generations. Therefore, interaction among contemporary writers is crucial. When men socialise among themselves, it is just socialising; but if a woman is present, it is often misread as romance. Male writers can visit editors or publishers’ homes regularly without raising concerns, but a woman writer’s presence often becomes a matter of suspicion.
The frustration of a 'woman writer'
These unwanted social intrusions cause frustration for women writers. Society’s judgmental gaze creates obstacles at every step. Over time, she learns to maintain control over her natural pace and work. Her private, independent self exists only in her mind—a self she cannot reveal to anyone without paper and pen. In this way, a woman writer’s real social problem becomes emotional and intellectual isolation—from literary mentors, contemporaries, and even friends and family. With limited or absent familial and social support, and in the presence of barriers, she is forced to withdraw into herself. Gradually, she may realise that she has no one left close to her. A focused and dedicated woman writer slowly becomes solitary. She analyses society deeply, yet lives as if on a socially isolated island.
When men gather and socialise, it is simply socialising—but if a woman is present, it is immediately interpreted as romance. Male writers can visit an editor’s or publisher’s home day after day, whether necessary or not, without raising concern; but when a woman writer does the same, it becomes a matter of worry.
Perhaps because society grants her so little acceptance, she must protest more on the page. In the early twentieth century, Virginia Woolf famously said, “A woman must have a room of her own and enough money if she is to write fiction.” Nearly a century has passed since, yet society has hardly changed. In many ways, it has sunk even deeper into ignorance and prejudice. Even today, society has not shown women the liberal freedom to live life on their own terms. Women remain treated as second-class citizens and, simultaneously, as essential yet subservient members of the household.
As a result, a woman writer today often lacks financial security, and the idea of living independently remains unrealistic in many cases. At the beginning of the twentieth century, Begum Rokeya wrote a utopian, scientifically imaginative work titled Sultana's Dreams, but for many years afterward, few women writers dared to show such boldness. Yet, because there have been pioneers before them, the progress of women’s literature has continued and never truly stopped—that is a source of hope.