Miscalculation

Text and ceramic plate by Alyssa Helena

He complained again. He talked of money as if he himself laboured beneath the merciless sun. How can he? His pale complexion would scarce endure the cruel heat of this land. And this article arrived at just the right moment to remind him of how incompetent he believes me to be as a wife. All this grooting, calculating how much money it will cost for a feast, how much of his treasure will go in “waste” as he pursues his lavish life. How much I will squander for a new outfit that will suit his and his gold-spooned friends’ taste. ‘Read this, and write something for them. I did not permit you to learn your letters for idleness,” he said. “You will not embarrass me. I raised your status from your pribumi ways; do not forget that. You will become what I require you to be, an excellent wife.”

As if I were a nobody before.

My mother would weep and clutch her brooch if she knew how miserable I am in this house. And yet, she would know how to manage a noble household with grace. She could lay out the most lavish feast and still have enough coin left to buy her daughters the finest kain the merchant could offer. Oh, how I wish I had listened more closely to her teachings. How I long to crawl back to our home, with its wide porch and warm tea waiting for me.

Enough. No amount of tears or longing will carry me back home. I must write this essay now before he returns to lambaste me once more.

must learn how a lady governs her household—before he returns to lambaste me once more.

Artist Statement The scanned newspaper led me to imagine what it might have felt like being a housewife in another era. Being one myself, I can imagine the pressure I face today is incomparable to that which women endured in the past. Through the broken piece of unfinished ceramic and short essay, written as an excerpt of an imaginary woman’s diary, I imagine someone who, while she was preparing a feast for her family, suddenly discovered a miscalculated figure in the accounts she had already submitted to the papers. The error unsettled her, and the plate shattered as it hit the cold floor. The fracture of the plate mirrors the fracture within her composure, reverberating beyond herself. This may as well be the end of her reputation as a noble homemaking career - if it was ever a career at all. Unable to voice out her despair, she turned to her diary.

The ceramic piece was made from white clay to mimic porcelain, a material often used for high-end dinnerwares even today. The crack was deliberately created by smashing the piece onto a soft surface, allowing for a sense of controlled chaos.