The Liberation of a Free Womann—Francine du Plessix Gray:nLovers and TyrantsnNear the end of this novel, the heroine, annup-and-coming writer named Stephanie,nannounces to her lover and tyrant of thenmoment, “We must confront vague ideasnwithdear images.” This is a tall order; shenhas managed here to hit upon one of thenessential tasks of great literature, onenwhich the poets, dramatists, and novelistsnhave always sought to accomplish. In Crimenand Punishment, Dostoevsky confronts thenvague ideas of revolutionary nihilism,ncurrent among Russian intellectuals of thennineteenth century, with the clear image ofnyoung Raskolnikov, who destroys himselfnwhenhe takes those ideas to heart and livesnby them. In Madame Bovary, Flaubertnconfronts the vague romanticism and thendoctrines of progress of his time with thenclear images of Madame Bovary’s tragicncareer and the petty cruelty of provincialnNormandy. It would be a pleasure to reportnthat Lovers and Tyrants achievesnsomething comparable, but it does not; it isnconfused at its heart, in its images, andnunder the circumstances, the critic’s tasknbecomes one of confronting vague imagesnwith clear thoughts.nStephanie’s story, the story oi Lovers andnTyrants, purports to be an account ofn”every woman’s life”: “a series of exorcismsnfrom the spells of different oppressors;nnurses, lovers, husbands, gurus,nparents, children, myths of the good life, thenmosttyrannicaldespots can be the ones whonlove us the most.” Stephanie wants to be anliberated woman, and the book follows hernfrom one exorcism to another as shengradually but relentlessly cuts herself offnfrom all normal human relationships. Herncareer provides yet another literary imagenof the modern quest for radical freedom, fornan absolute autonomy of the self beyond allnexternal authority. Predictably, she passesnthrough the stages of that quest that havenbecome stereotyped in recent years:nalcohol, drugs, kinky sex, meditation, andnrunning away.n(i-nChrooiclcs of CulturennnAll of this has become boringly conventionalnby now, but Gray’s image ofnStephanie also has something more interestingnto offer. Stephanie is not simply anleaden-hearted, self-absorbed lover of hern”own thing.” On the contrary, she cannunderstand and regret the loss that hernassertion of freedom entails. She feelsndriven to abandon her family and friends,nbut she does hot do so with the self-righteousnvengefulness that characterizes so muchnmodern liberation. In the last section of thenbook, as she wanders aimlessly through thensouthwestern United States with Elijah, angay photographer, sometimes her lover, shenremembers with poignancy her husbandnand children, and even wishes that it werenpossible for her to return to them- Stephanienwants to be liberated, but she also longs fornhuman bonds. She is torn between twonirreconcilable ends, and although there isnnothing original in that, it is at leastnplausible.nTrue to the age from which it springs andnwhich it images, Stephanie’s story is concernednespecially with her sexuality.nNothing challenges her search fornautonomy more persistently than her sensenthat male and female need each other fornsexual fulfillment. She tries masturbationnbut finds it “pathetic compared to the realnthing.” Lesbianism attracts her only intermittently,nand celibacy offers nonsolution. She wants men,and they threatennher sovereignty; she equates lovers withntyrants, and still desires lovers.nHere is a dilemma worthy of a comic orntragic genius, worthy of a writer who couldncreate clear images to chronicle the confusionsnof our age. At times. Gray seems onnthe verge of grasping and expressing thenhoUowness of the quest for autonomousnfreedom, the fact that it cannot yield thenfulfillment that it promises because it isnfounded on a false view of life. Neithernhumanity nor happiness is to be found in thenprocess of constantly cutting one’s self off.nUnfortunately, however, she seeftis not tonhave gazed clearly enough at her ownnmaterial, and her images fail her in the end.n