Welcome to another edition of Historians Under the Spotlight — an occasional interview series that offers a snapshot from academics’ lives: their passions, interests and reading suggestions. You can catch up with previous posts here.
This month, our spotlight is trained on Margaret Cook Andersen (University of Tennessee), whose book Fertile Expectations. The Politics of Involuntary Childlessness in Twentieth-Century France is published in MUP’s Studies in French and Francophone History. You can find out more about Margaret’s book here.
In a nutshell, what is your research about?
When I was researching my first book, I spent a lot of time reading pronatalist propaganda and studies. I was continuously struck by the fact that the authors presented childless women, as well as women who had small families, as willing participants in French demographic decline. The authors assumed many things about such women, including that they simply did not want children or lacked “maternal instincts.” I wondered what it was like to live in this pronatalist age as a woman who could not get pregnant or maybe experienced recurrent miscarriages or stillbirths. This got me interested in the topics of infertility and adoption. I was interested in learning more about options available to women or couples experiencing infertility, including accessing fertility medicine or adoption services. For the book, I was also interested in understanding ideas about family size in the modern age, something that is frequently interpreted as a type of choice reflecting a person’s values or priorities.
These interests and questions inspired my book. I discuss the demographic question in France, establishing why the French were so concerned about the birth rate and how a wide range of reformers, physicians, and leaders tried to encourage population growth in various ways. Much of the book, however, looks at how French people in this era increasingly expected to be able to control their fertility and reach their intended family size. This is partly a discussion of infertility in which I explore available options for treating infertility, beginning in the 1920s. The book looks at the state’s interest in fertility services and how they came to see fertility medicine a third pillar in the fight against depopulation (alongside reducing mortality and encouraging fertility). I also consider artificial insemination by donor, a practice that existed prior to the twentieth century, but became much more visible in the mid-twentieth century and raised questions about the moral implications of assisted reproductive technologies. Another important topic is adoption, a new option in the 1920s for couples and sometimes individuals looking to start families. Finally, the book explores discussions about birth control in the years prior to the landmark Neuwirth law in 1967, and questions about how legalized family planning services could potentially fit within the state’s demographic strategies for encouraging an average family size of four children.
What was it that first got you interested in researching French history?
I have always been interested in studying and preserving the past. As a child I read National Geographic regularly and wanted to be an archaeologist. When I was older, I became more interested in nineteenth-century British and American history, in large part because I loved reading novels from that period. However, the experience that really set me on a path to becoming a scholar of modern French history was study abroad. When I was twenty, I spent a year at universities in Toulouse and Rennes. While the classes were educational and engaging, it was really my time outside of the classroom that was transformative. I loved taking advantage of the cheap rail fares for young people and travelled all over France, exploring the country’s beauty and rich history. The experience inspired my love of travel. I also learned that I wanted to become a professor and spend the rest of my life learning about French history.
What advice would you give to early career scholars preparing their first monograph?
After finishing your doctorate, don’t wait too long to begin the process of connecting with acquisitions editors and sending your manuscript out for review. Yes, you should take the time to revise your dissertation and incorporate more research, as needed. At the same time, people with perfectionist tendencies risk falling into the trap of spending years polishing and revising. I remember for a long time feeling like the manuscript was not really finished because there were always more books I could read and more analysis I could add. I find it helpful to remember that no matter how much revising one does, the reviewers are still going to suggest further revisions.
I also think that it is important to stay mentally involved in your manuscript. This can be challenging when you are juggling multiple demands on your time, such as a heavy teaching load or young children at home. However, if you allow months to go by without thinking about the manuscript or working on it, it will take more effort to reconnect with your work later. I generally favour scheduling time each week for the manuscript, even if it comes in small increments some weeks.
What one change would you most like to see in Academia in the next five years?
One thing that I think is needed is for scholars and university administrators to convince more people that academic freedom is very important. Right now, I feel very privileged because I get to design courses on subjects that I am passionate about and that my students find relevant and interesting. I also feel very privileged to have the freedom to pursue research on topics that are both meaningful to me personally and that speak to important enduring questions. However, as we all know, we are living in such a difficult time for higher education. While I don’t have a great answer to this problem, I would like find ways of convincing more people outside the Academy that academic freedom matters.
What are you working on now?
Now that I have written two books dealing with French population concerns and pronatalism, I have decided to set those interests aside for now. I am interested in moving more firmly into the history of medicine, though I suspect I will still be working with the history of the family and motherhood. My current project looks at the history of blood transfusion in modern French history. I am less focused on the medical breakthroughs and experimentation; that history has been covered extensively already. My interest is more in looking at the cultural meanings and organization of blood transfusion practices in twentieth-century France. Part of the story I will be telling also deals with neo-natal health, looking particularly at Rh disease or haemolytic disease of the newborn in the mid-twentieth century.
Quick-fire questions
Which French place/space would you most like to be able to go right now?
The Jardin des Plantes in Paris.
Favourite archive or library?
The Archives de Paris – I like that they have sheep helping maintain the lawn in an eco-friendly way. Plus, the last time I was there, a friendly cat hung out with me during my lunch break outside.
Favourite century?
The long nineteenth century, especially the Belle Époque.
Éclair or saucisson?
I prefer éclairs, especially when they come in fun flavours like lavender.
