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Eve EnslerA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Dedicated to the “comfort women,” who were kidnapped and forced into sexual enslavement by the Japanese military for over a decade, this monologue details the horrors these women faced, including disease, starvation, social stigma, suicide, violence, and poverty. They ask for the Japanese government to finally apologize for these injustices before the women are all gone.
This monologue details the trauma, violence, and government neglect that affect women following natural disasters and corruption, specifically focused on the 2010 earthquake in Haiti, 2005’s Hurricane Katrina and its impact on New Orleans, and the civil war in the Democratic Republic of the Congo in the early 2000s. The monologue references children dying, the neglect of residents in rubble-filled streets, and women carrying this trauma and their communities.
A brief introduction dedicates this monologue to Myriam Merlet, who was chief of staff of the Ministry for Gender and the Rights of Women of Haiti. She brought V-Day to Haiti and was killed in the 2010 earthquake in Haiti. The monologue is a tribute to all Myriam has done for women and the fact that, despite the horrors that still exist in Haiti, especially after the earthquake, women call still her name and carry her legacy.
In honor of Patricia Henry and the women of New Orleans and the Gulf South who faced Hurricane Katrina, this monologue is told from the perspective of Miss Pat. Miss Pat cooks for the people of her community who’ve been neglected, let down, and abandoned by their local and federal governments in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. Miss Pat cooks for mothers with sick sons, wives of husbands who no longer have jobs, and people who died in the hurricane. She is “cooking up a government that will care” (146).
The narrator speaks out against rape and rape culture. She expresses her contempt for the systemic perpetuation of violence against women through social media, the justice system, the medical system, and the enforced silence and shaming of women who’ve been raped.
Dedicated to women in the Philippines, this monologue describes a revolution that comes from the body of a woman who will dance and, though it is not violent, will stand up against the patriarchy while celebrating women.
The narrator describes a dream where her father, who raped her, sits across her at a table. There is an audience, and they watch as her father berates her, before a silence descends and a clot of rage comes out of her. Her father eats it and then explodes into a little boy. Together, they jump on the earth as a trampoline and move higher and higher together. The narrator calls this “justice.”
The final set of “Spotlight Monologues” continues to focus thematically on Patriarchal Systems Perpetuate Violence Against Women. In “Say It,” the narrator speaks on behalf of the 200,000 “comfort women” who were abducted from their homes and families and forced into sexual enslavement in countries where Japan held power in the 1930s and 1940s. These women did not receive a formal apology from the Japanese government until the late 1990s and have still not received any form of reparations for the brutal treatment they endured, including disease, violence, neglect, and death. The monologue calls attention to the way their history has been ignored and outright silenced, calling out the Japanese government for their continued neglect.
Systemic neglect is a key subtheme in several monologues that focus on the impacts of natural disasters and war on women and their communities. The 10-year anniversary of V-Day came after Hurricane Katrina, the earthquake in Haiti that displaced millions and devastated the country, and a civil war in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. V connects these disparate events in “For My Sisters in Portauprincebukavuneworleans,” reproducing the tension and chaos following a disaster through disjointed verse that lacks punctuation. The monologue repeats the word “carrying,” representative of both physical objects like “mini knives” and salvaged food and belongings, but also “songs,” “possibility,” and, finally, “everything.” In this way, women are depicted as the bearers of both trauma and culture.
These narratives build, thematically, toward Feminine Community and Empowerment, celebrating specific women who carried their communities. “Hey Miss Pat” is a testament to grassroots movements and the power of community to rebuild where governments refuse to. Through the language of cooking—the kind of domestic work often relegated to women and undervalued in patriarchal culture—the monologue conflates the act of cooking food and the act of building community: “I’m cooking up gumbo okra jambalaya mac and cheese roast beef and resistance” (146). In this way, the author highlights the hidden power behind the everyday activities of women, depicting them as capable of organizing communities as they nourish them.
Like the original Vagina Monologues, the “Spotlight Monologues” end with language of resistance and confrontation, bringing The Power of Art as Activism to the fore. “Over It” channels a tone of anger and frustration as the narrator speaks out against rape culture, implicating social media, governments, the military, and “the passivity of good men” in creating an environment where rape is treated not as an “international priority” but as a punchline (152). “My Revolution Begins in the Body” is a manifesto of empowerment despite patriarchal systems in the Philippines. In contrast to “Over It,” whose narrator calls for occupation and sit-ins, the narrator of this monologue takes a more confrontational step toward her oppressors, saying, “My revolution is not violent but it does not shy away from the dangerous edges where fierce displays of resistance tumble into something new” (156). Revolution arises in a more personal way in “Then We Were Jumping,” whose narrator dreams of her rapist—her father—being forced to publicly consume her pain, which takes the form of a clot. She ends the piece calling her dream “justice.”