A Brief Examination of Bed and Sofa's Portrayal of the Independent Woman

Directed by Abram Room, the 1927 silent film Bed and Sofa depicts the mundane aspects of Soviet daily life during the 1920s, specifically examining sexual practices and gender roles under Stalin's reign. The film portrays the divergent actions and attitudes of a Soviet woman named Liudia as she gradually rejects societal expectations for her comportment as a wife. She expresses her disapproval of women's cult of domesticity; cheats on her husband; maintains the adulterous relationship even after her husband discovers it; rebels against her husband's order for an abortion; and abandons her marriage, home and second lover. The introduction of her husband's old friend, Fogel, into Liudia's once static routine catalyzes her progress toward claiming independence as a woman.

Due to her facial expressions and overall behavior, Liudia's ennui with the duties of a housewife are clear even before Fogel stumbles into her life. Her husband, Kolia, cheerfully rises to the new day while she appears much more somber. Shortly after "Moscow awoke," Liudia's playful husband pelts her with a crumpled page from his calendar and she immediately looks annoyed. Then Liudia serves Kolia coffee in a disgruntled manner. When he attempts to spoonfeed her the crème off the top, she refuses it and impatiently thrusts a plate in his face onto which he dumps the crème for their pet cat. The largest insult of the morning, however, comes when Kolia orders Liudia to scrub the floors, as if she were a servant. Her eyes flash with resentment. The audience assumes that the meaning of the text that ensues-"My husband!"-carries a bitter, not adoring, tone.

When Fogel moves into the couple's flat, Liudia's frustration with her wifely duties grows and she turns to Fogel as an outlet to test her burgeoning independence. Seemingly sensitive, Fogel strikes Liudia as the antithesis of her husband, who feels entitled to Liudia's attention, and therefore unappreciative toward all that she does for him. When Kolia leaves for a business trip, Fogel takes Liudia on her first ever airplane ride; escorts her to the movies after she has "forgotten how long it has been" since her last visit; comments on her beauty and gently smoothes down her hair as she brushes it. In the guise of Prince Charming, Fogel, temporarily at least, helps Liudia forget the pains and boredom of wifehood.

Following Fogel's intense wooing, Liudia decides to commit adultery with him in her first truly rebellious move toward independence. He shows interest in her at a time when her husband takes her for granted. It is important to note that Liudia chooses her bedmate and is not a victim of force. Sleeping with Fogel therefore empowers her, rather than degrades her, because it represents a step toward her making her own decisions instead of her husband making them for her. Liudia could have refused Fogel's pursuit of her, but she does not. That Liudia willingly sleeps with Fogel indicates that she has no qualms about neglecting convention. It is not until after the deed that she regrets cheating on Kolia, yet that regret is based upon guilt, not remorse. Guilt hinges upon the shame of getting caught for doing wrong; remorse, in contrast, means sincerely feeling sorry for acting immorally. However, Liudia's guilt soon evaporates after Fogel confesses their sin to Kolia, demonstrating again that convention no longer concerns her.

Liudia runs with her surge of independence and continues sleeping with Fogel despite the shame it brings Kolia now that someone has tarnished his 'property.' Unfortunately, the caring and appreciation that Fogel showed her during Kolia's business trip dissipates and he, too, starts to take her for granted. Liudia's epiphany arrives when Fogel brusquely tells her to "Put some tea on." The Knight in Shining Armor façade has melted away and Liudia realizes that under the cult of domesticity, all of her relationships with men will eventually produce the same result: he will become ungrateful and even commodify her.

Liudia's disillusionment at this point must influence her to reach the zenith of her rebellion as she does in the last few minutes of the film, demonstrating the potential Soviet women have to change their confining lifestyles. When Liudia discovers that she is pregnant, she heads to the abortion clinic per her husband's demand. But she ultimately decides the fate of her future child herself both out of maternal instinct and her disappointment with the course of her relationships with Kolia and Fogel. She keeps the baby and flees and, in doing so, Liudia has transcended the social mores surrounding wifely expectations.

In the end, Liudia achieves total independence from her duties as a wife and lover. She determines the outcomes of her two romances by running away so that neither Kolia nor Fogel can claim her as their property anymore. Liudia even removes her portrait from the frame displayed in the flat's living room, showing that she wants to completely eradicate herself from the lives of these two men. Liudia runs away despite the social and financial vulnerability she will face by making these choices, demonstrating that she is willing to struggle for the cost of her freedom. Liudia's last words in the film allude to her newfound confidence and power: "I'll work. I'll survive."

In portraying Liudia's successful fight for independence, Bed and Sofa contradicts the popular notion of using women protagonists to model Stalin's "ideal attitude of [feminine] 'love, honor, and obedience'" (Reid 133). Liudia violates the ideal attitude toward love by composing her own love triangle; she violates the ideal attitude toward honor by cheating on her husband and abandoning both lovers; and she violates the ideal attitude toward obedience by choosing how to lead her own life in the end. All in all, Bed and Sofa conveys that Soviet women can choose to escape the realm of domesticity and traditional romantic roles if they wish to pursue happier, more independent lifestyles.

Works Cited

Reid, Susan, E. "All Stalin's Women: Gender and Power in Soviet Art of the 1930s."
Slavic Review: Vol. 57, No. 1. Cambridge, MA: The American Association of the
Advancement of Slavic Studies, 1998.