The Madonna–Whore Dichotomy
Las madres noThe Madonna–Whore Dichotomy is the book’s name for a cultural sorting of women into opposing roles: the pure mother who gives life and the sexually active woman who is cast as corrupt or dangerous. Its force lies in the way it makes maternal virtue seem incompatible with sexuality, anger, ambivalence, or any life beyond care. The book follows this division from stories of miraculous conception into criminal law and a courtroom, while setting it against the narrator’s account of motherhood as love, confinement, fatigue, and threatened selfhood all at once.
The Mythic Division
The book links the ideal of the virginal mother to a broader pattern of stories in which motherhood is detached from sex. It argues that the figure is not exclusive to the Judeo-Christian tradition: similar motifs appear independently across cultures. In Greek myth, Athena remains a virgin mother to Ericthonius after rejecting Hephaestus’s semen and making the child her own. Maia, the mother of Buddha, conceives chastely in a dreamlike illumination, with Buddha entering her body at the right side on a lotus throne borne by a white elephant. Coatlicue becomes pregnant when she touches a ball of beautiful feathers that falls from the sky while she is sweeping a temple; she later gives birth to Huitzilopochtli. The account also identifies Anahita as a virgin mother from whose entrails Mithra is born.
These stories do more than offer variations on miraculous birth. In the book’s reading, they repeatedly protect the mother’s sanctity from the fact of sex. The opposing figure is not simply an ordinary woman who has sexual desires: she is made into someone who cannot qualify as a mother at all, and is imagined as a threat to life. The text describes the division as both anti-biological and misogynistic, because it makes the mother’s value depend on denying her sexuality and separates maternal identity from the bodily realities of reproduction.
Respectability, Motherhood, and Daily Life
The same sorting appears in the book’s account of women’s social identities. A sexually respectable mother is granted the status of life-giver; a woman marked by sex outside the approved ideal is pushed toward the roles of fallen woman or danger. The book connects this logic to the familiar split between mother and stepmother: a cruel mother can be displaced into the figure of the wicked other, preserving the idea that the true mother must be tender and good. The ideal leaves little room for a mother who loves her child and also feels anger, boredom, exhaustion, or a desire to be alone.
The narrator’s experience unsettles that ideal without making care and love disappear. While pregnant, she found that public interest in her centered more on her belly, the baby’s sex, and possible names than on her work as an author. After becoming a mother, walking alone could make her feel incomplete, as if strangers could not understand her without knowing she had a child. Three months of rarely sleeping more than three hours at a stretch, repeated weight checks, and close attention to the baby’s bodily functions narrowed her sense of self until earlier identities seemed exiled. Motherhood is presented not as a simple passage into either fulfillment or rejection, but as a role capable of overwhelming the other parts of a person.
Its daily work gives that conflict a concrete scale. The narrator describes breastfeeding, changing diapers, doing laundry, and finding new ways to entertain Erik, as hours of care pass while ordinary time seems to continue elsewhere. Yet when she arrives at the nursery, Erik notices her, crawls toward her, and reaches out his arms. She experiences the embrace as an intense form of love and life, while also wondering whether she ought to be enjoying it more and whether that closeness will enter her writing. The tenderness does not cancel the boredom or self-doubt; the boredom does not cancel the tenderness. Their coexistence challenges the demand that a good mother feel only one thing.
Infanticide and the Law
The book traces the division into legal distinctions that have treated a mother who kills a newborn differently from other killers. In its account of Victorian London, domestic servants could lose their employment after becoming pregnant by their employers and be left impoverished and publicly disgraced. Queen Victoria intervened so that women in such circumstances would not face the death penalty for infanticide. The narrative presents this as a renewed legal exception: an infant’s killing was not treated as equivalent to homicide when the perpetrator was the mother, particularly when the law invoked the concealment of her dishonor.
The Spanish legal history makes the moral assumptions especially visible. From 1822 until 1995, infanticide existed as an offense distinct from homicide. The former provision imposed a lesser sentence on a mother who killed her newborn to conceal her disgrace, and also applied to maternal grandparents who killed the child to conceal the mother’s disgrace. Later reform proposals substituted emotional tensions associated with childbirth and the puerperium for dishonor as the relevant circumstance. The 1995 Criminal Code abolished the separate offense, leaving a mother who kills her baby liable to conviction for murder. The book contrasts this with Canada, where its account describes an infanticide provision for a woman who kills a child under one while affected by pregnancy, childbirth, or lactation, with mental disturbance as the condition. It criticizes the circularity of treating the killing itself as evidence of that disturbance.
Alice Espanet and the Trial’s Competing Stories
The case of Alice Espanet brings the question of maternal violence into the courtroom, where the division between monstrous mother and mentally ill mother becomes a dispute over legal responsibility. After the deaths of her twins, Alice’s lawyer, Carmela Basaguren, invoked Article 20.1 of the Spanish Criminal Code, which exempts a person from criminal responsibility when a mental disorder prevents them from understanding the unlawfulness of an act or acting in accordance with that understanding. The defense’s argument did not erase the deaths or the seriousness of the charges; it asked whether Alice’s mental state could explain her actions under the law.
The evidentiary basis for the postpartum psychosis diagnosis was itself challenged. In questioning, the prosecutor established that the psychiatrist had no official prior diagnosis to rely on and based his assessment on Alice’s behavior and her account of her experience. At the trial, Mélanie, the au pair, described Alice as unpredictable: sometimes she closely supervised infant care, and at other times she withdrew to paint and left Mélanie to manage alone. Her testimony also conveyed swings of anxiety and discouragement over the twins’ weight, sleep, and health. Such evidence supplied a picture of instability, but the trial still had to determine how far illness could explain or excuse the acts.
The eventual legal outcome does not simply restore Alice to the category of innocent mother. The jury found her guilty while accepting the defense of insanity, and the judge replaced imprisonment with outpatient psychiatric treatment. The book notes that the treatment decision depended in part on the conditions around Alice, including her financial means and her husband’s commitment to support her care. By placing this outcome beside the older legal distinctions around infanticide, the narrative shows how maternal identity, mental illness, and social circumstances enter judgments of responsibility. The dichotomy remains powerful precisely because it offers stark moral roles, while the case and the narrator’s experience expose lives that cannot be contained by them.