“Oranges are not the Only Fruits” is definitely one of the most thought provoking literatures I have ever read. It speaks of one’s search for truth, identity and acceptance. Jeanette’s story resounds most of our unspoken questions - “Who am I?” “What do I believe in”? “What kind of person should I become?
Jeanette Winterson leads the readers back to the years when she was a child living with her adoptive parents in England. Sadly, Jeanette was adopted because her mother wanted to have a child in a sexless manner so she could be trained to be a “servant of God.” With a mother who is, apparently, an extremely fundamentalist “Christian”, Jeanette was obligated to be indoctrinated into practicing and believing the same things her mother did and told her to do but even just in the first few pages, we already get an impression that Jeanette is different.
The novel begins with “Genesis,” which is also the first book of the Bible. We begin to gradually picture how she sees her mother’s interpretation of the world. I liked the irony behind the concept of dividing the novel into the first few books of the Old Testament – from Genesis to Ruth – because it effectively captures the different phases of Jeanette’s life – from confusion to rediscovery. It was her way of retelling her story and reinterpreting what was known.
Although Jeanette’s technique in weaving fairy tales, Arthurian myths, Bible stories and her personal narrative together can seem quite confusing, I think it served its purpose well. It allowed room for various meanings to her text and clearly showed what storytelling really meant – there is no single, standard reading. “Very postmodern,” I thought.
Oranges are not the only fruits. There are apples, bananas, cherries, grapes and so on.I stumbled upon an article yesterday about a research by a Taiwanese professor that theorizes that people’s personalities can be reflected in the kinds of fruit we eat most often. If apples are your favorite, it means that you’re careful and methodical but if it is bananas, it means that you’re forceful and insistent. If you eat bananas often, you’re political advocates of change. Interestingly, eating oranges meant that you’re “queer”, “unique” and “creative.” Although it remains to be a theory, I thought it was ironic that oranges are symbols of authenticity and uniqueness because most people would associate oranges as “ordinary.”
In the book, we find that oranges are symbols for the boxes that society has built around us such as expectations from various institutions of who we should become. We see throughout the book that when Jeanette starts to feel confused and doubtful about things, she was always being offered oranges. Unfortunately, we each have our own oranges and small chalk circles – and we have allowed ourselves to be defined by them in varying degrees.
Since Jeanette was born, she has always believed that “the world ran on very simple lines,” that there were only two sides of the coin. There were only males and females. There was only good and evil. Sex was an antonym for morality. No in-betweens.
Reading Oranges was like reading Plato’s Myth of the Cave. One wouldn't know the realm beyond the cave until he or she realizes that he or she is a prisoner blinded by darkness inside. However, I am not extremely radical to say that religion, gender and race blind people from seeing the truth. In fact, I think, those are essentially “good” and are tools for us to see things clearly. It has possibly become problematic because we keep imposing perspectives on each other, instead of offering more “lenses.” At the end of the day, I think it is still entirely man’s (and woman’s) choice to believe what he wants to believe in.
Although I’m not really a fan of labels, I too am a Christian, a Born-again if you wish me to be precise. I used to think it was all just plain religion – lifeless, rigid, restrictive and extremely boring. I grew up in a Christian home and in a Christian school until I was fifteen - a classic sheltered environment, as most people would say. Luckily, I do not have an extremely religious fanatic mother and a church that does not think so highly of itself and does not have a distorted view of God and people. I loved God, my mom and my church and I still do. Unfortunately, most teachers in the Christian school viewed everything black and white and subtly taught the students to see things the same way they do – in its most literal sense (probably a little less crazy than the Society Jeanette grew up with).
As a child, it was so easy to believe my school’s bizarre belief system like “Harry Potter was a demonic film,” “sex is evil” and “being gay is like having a disease.” People in school were often afraid - afraid to do this and that and ask the hard questions because otherwise, they would get in trouble or they would “burn in hell.”
I remember having a best friend in grade school who was bullied every day of his life for being “gay.” He never hanged out with the guys, never played basketball and all those things that boys were expected to do. He never admitted, of course, but I knew he was different. At a young age, I learned from my mother that being different was not necessarily a negative thing; I don’t have to try to “belong.” I asked her about my friend’s situation one time, “Mom, my friends don’t like (let's just name him Alfred). They think he’s ‘bading.’ If he really is, how should I treat him?” I think my mother was shocked hearing this from a seven-year-old but she gave me a wise advice, delivering it in such a way that I was imagining she was Lady Galadriel or a Greek goddess of some sort. “Whether he is or he isn’t, be his friend. He’s special just as we all are.” Even Sunday school in church taught me that we should “love one another” just as how God loves people – unconditionally. Fortunately, Alfred was not exorcised or kicked out for being “gay” (eventually he admitted – to me, at least).
For some reason (and probably a product of being a daughter of my mother), I have always been inquisitive and curious about things. I have always wanted to know why some people think this is “good” and that was “wrong.” I loved asking questions; it’s like going on an adventure like Alice and Bilbo Baggins. When I was in high school, I once asked in our Values class, “Why is it that people seem to be more gracious and forgiving to a man who cheated his wife more than a gay man? Aren’t we supposed to love each other just the same?” The class became silent and the teacher ignored me and changed the topic. I find it odd that homosexuality is regarded as a greater evil but adultery has become normal. It frustrates me even until now that most of those who call themselves “Christians” do not want to be around gays or do not even know how to talk to them, especially the straight men. I don’t think God is an exclusive God. If He was still on earth, I think He would be still the same Man who would engage conversations with a woman who is one of the top societal rejects and has give husbands. He would still be the same Man who would forgive a prostitute. He would still be the same Man who would made Himself known to a young gay man bullied by the same people who call themselves “followers of God.” That’s more like what Christianity is about – it’s looking past the labels institutions have placed on us; it’s not defining someone’s identity because she’s a woman, a lesbian or he’s gay or he’s straight. It’s just simply loving God and loving people. It’s sad to think that most people have misinterpreted who He is, what Christianity is and what a man or a woman is.
Despite the Christian environment I grew in, I had learned and relearned throughout the years that gays are not “demons” and they should be loved and treated just as how we want others to do the same for us.The expectation among sheltered “religious” people is that they will eventually “rebel” like Jeanette. We could easily blame her mother for driving her mad, her adoption and her shady past. Half of the time as I was reading, I was thinking that Jeanette couldn’t just blame her mother all her life but it was still her choices that determined who she is now. It was her choice that she became a lesbian. It was her choice to destroy the “walls of religion” and expectation. Her story isn’t unfamiliar to most of us I would believe. I am quite sure that there have been many Jeanettes in various places in society.
I agree with Jeanette that there are no “perfect men” or perfect women.” Some beasts and frogs don’t exactly turn out to be enchanting princes. However, as it is with other girls, I used to believe otherwise (blame Disney, yes). We were taught to believe that someday, a prince without blemish who’s gentle and charming will come at the right time and at the right place. This is where I and my mother often disagree (and still do). She would always tell me that God would give me His best – “GB” meaning God’s best. Yes, God blesses us by surrounding us with people who blesses us and all that but I think no man or woman is one’s “best.” Again, it’s still a choice – my choice who to marry and if I will marry. This concept of perfection and holiness has built detrimental walls of expectation. No wonder most marriages fail and are unhappy because we think of our relationships unrealistically. We don’t see each other for who we really are. Most of my relatives would always ask me why I still do not have a boyfriend. “Are you a lesbian?” my aunties pried. I am not. I have always liked boys even if I appeared too strong around them but I wouldn't want to turn into this perky cheerleader who always gets the hunky guys. I like being myself. I was told when I was younger that if I continue being this tough, independent girl, “I will never marry.” For years, I believed that but I guess it’s a learned skill to distinguish which is true and which are lies. What my aunties said? Lies. I don’t think marriage is only for those who are perky and are “out there.” I believe in marriage. I believe that relationships can be real. However, I also don’t believe that marriage is the only path for all men and women.
I used to think that being a perfect woman was “achievable.” If only we read more intelligent books, did more good deeds, become more beautiful, lost more weight and so on, we would have been more “accepted,” more “perfect.” I had to learn (and still am learning) how to break through that wall, just like all women will have to do, even our daughters and granddaughters – regardless of race, gender and religion. Becoming that Proverbs 31 woman is not possible and it won’t be. This pursuit for perfection has been greatly misunderstood and we must start to relearn what it means to become a woman – and it will not be easy.
Oranges are Not the Only Fruits show that there is a world out there waiting to be explored – it doesn’t necessarily have to be as drastic as changing sexualities or deconstructing religious beliefs. Sometimes, it’s just as simple as re-exploring what it means to be beautiful or re-claiming our rights in the workplace or reevaluating our principles. We have to know what we are doing and why we’re doing what we’re doing.I will be forever grateful to my mother who taught me the importance of asking questions – that there is more than what I know and what people know. The more I asked, the more I understood. Reading Jeanette’s struggles with her mother made me appreciate my mom all the more. I’m glad that although she was a Christian, she saw things differently as most would expect from “Christians.” She never forced me to believe what she believed in. She knew that even when I was little, I will eventually become my own person; that I would have to make my own choices and I will be accountable to those. I can truly say that my mother really modeled what is like to be a Christian and what it’s like to be a woman of purpose.
I don’t think man (or a woman) is destined to be deprived of adventure and exploring the unknown. Yes, I believe in God. Yes, I am a Christian. Yes, I believe in marriage. Yes, I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. I think having sex with the same sex is wrong. But it does not make me ignorant. It does not mean I’m only eating oranges. We each have our own adventures and our own Jericho walls. It’s really up to us if we’ll stay behind those walls or journey through the unknown.
“Walls protect and walls limit. It is in the nature of walls that they should fall. That walls should fall is the consequence of blowing your own trumpet.”
Regardless of gender, one can only grow if he or she allows him or herself to learn new things, unlearn old thinking and relearn old ones. What will happen in the future all depends on the choices we have to make and how we allow ourselves to grow.
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