Beyond the Male Gaze: A Conversation on Girlhood, Grief and “The Virgin Suicides”

The “Writers Go to the Movies” series is built on the philosophy that writing is informed by every facet of human experience. According to the organizer, Director of Creative Writing Programs Angela Pelster-Wiebe, the goal is to create a space where artists can interact with professionals like midwives, politicians and clergy to see what “slams together” when different arts meet.

Daniel Moniz, an assistant professor at the University of Wisconsin-Madison and author of the acclaimed collection “Milk Blood Heat,” noted that she was drawn to the unique format for its relationship between visual images and prose. For her, the event was an opportunity to engage with a film that was formative to her understanding of female inferiority.

“The reason why I said yes to this visit is I have never been asked to do an event like this. And for me, I think so much about images into words and words into images that I was like, ‘Yeah, this is fucking cool, I’m gonna go do that,'” Moniz said.

Moniz selected “The Virgin Suicides” (1999) because it challenged the sanitized, stereotypical depictions of young women.

“I chose “The Virgin Suicides” just because it was like a formative movie for me, thinking about the idea of girlhood and the seriousness of that. I think usually when people think of girlhood, it’s like this light, fluffy, pink thing,, but girlhood is vicious. Girlhood is like—there’s this dark underbelly,” Moniz said.

Following the screening, the discussion pivoted to the film’s portrayal of grief and the lack of communication between the Lisbon sisters and their parents. Reverend Ed Holland, who helped create the hospice program at Park Nicollet Methodist, emphasized the danger of cultural taboos surrounding death.

“In terms of silence, someone once said that as it relates to dying, death or grief, ‘if it’s mentionable, it’s manageable.’ And the silence, I think, is pretty typical around topics related to dying, death and grief,” Holland said.

Moniz connected this clinical observation to her own literary goals.

“In my work, I feel like I’m often illuminating the things that we don’t want to talk about because I feel like what would happen if we actually talked about the thing? Then maybe you wouldn’t feel so weird, you wouldn’t feel like ‘I’m the only one that’s going through this,'” Moniz said.

Despite the film’s tragic conclusion, the speakers explored the paradoxical presence of humor during times of profound loss. Moniz recalled how the absurdity of life persists even during the most painful milestones.

“I’ve experienced major loss, major death in my life, my mother died almost four years ago, and when I think about how much of that was like, funny, even though it wasn’t funny, I think that being able to hold onto that felt to me like manageable,” Moniz said.

Holland agreed, noting that in his professional experience with hundreds of memorial services, humor often serves as a humanizing and healing bridge.

“There is humor even in the dark moments. As a clergy person, in talking about the person who died, there always seems to be a nugget of humor. As people remember the person who died and think about their whole life. Everything that makes them human,” Holland said.

The evening concluded with a discussion about “ambiguous loss,” a feeling of a loss being unresolved or lacking a clear explanation. Holland suggested that the film’s power lies in its refusal to provide easy answers for the girls’ actions.

“Ambiguous loss and loss like this generally tend to be a more intense grief and prolonged grief. We never get to the point of answering the question ‘why’, but at least coming to terms with the paradox, the ambiguity, the contradictions,” Holland said.

Moniz closed the night by arguing that this very uncertainty is what makes art essential.“Sitting with that ambiguity is both terrible and great, because at least if you can sit in the uncertainty, then you’re like, ‘Okay, I’m alive right now.’ You can’t do anything other than from this present space, this moment that you’re in right now,” Moniz said.