Swan-Walk and Soft Smiles: Victorian Hangovers & Kerala Modernity

What does it mean to be ‘cultured’ in a state celebrated for its progressiveness?

Kerala, with its proud legacy of literacy and reform, often wears the label of modernity like a badge. But behind that sheen lies an invisible ledger of do’s and don’ts whispered into the ears of young girls. From the swan-like walk to the art of not laughing too loudly, womanhood in Kerala has long been shaped by scripts written in Victorian England. This blog journeys through novels, manuals and memory to reveal how deep the roots of gendered obedience run - and why feminism in Kerala must first reckon with its own cultural ghosts. 


What does it mean to be a ‘cultured’ woman in Kerala today?

“Don’t laugh too loudly.”
“Sit properly.”
“Walk like a swan.”
“Don’t talk too much.”
“Be graceful.”

If you grew up in Kerala, these phrases are likely to be etched into the folds of your memory - offered as advice, correction, or concern. But these everyday admonitions are not innocent; they are the echoes of a cultural conditioning. In a state celebrated for its literacy and ‘progressive’ ethos, there is a deeply gendered unconscious. To understand this paradox, we must turn to history - specifically, to the entanglements of colonialism, reform and Victorian patriarchy.

From Civilizing Missions to New Patriarchies

Modern Kerala was shaped during the late 19th and early 20th centuries by reform movements across the princely states of Travancore and Cochin and the Malabar region, which was under the direct British rule. These movements were two-pronged: on the one hand, they aimed to eradicate oppressive practices in various communities; on the other, they joined forces with broader national movements against British colonialism. While the progressive intent of these reformist drives is undeniable, they also became fertile ground for gendered moral engineering.

What did it mean to be ‘modern’ or ‘civilized’? Increasingly, reformers began to measure a community’s modernity by the status and behaviour of its women. Female respectability was not just a private concern - it became a public symbol of collective progress. And thus emerged a quiet but powerful ideological force: The Victorian Modernity.

Unlike the more sweeping term Colonial Modernity, which refers broadly to the changes wrought by colonial rule, Victorian Modernity zeroes in on a specific cultural lens. It constituted a worldview imported from 19th century Britain that deeply influenced the making of gender roles in India. It was women’s bodies, desires and behaviours that became the primary terrain of this reform.

The Ideal Woman: A Victorian Blueprint

The Victorian woman was an elaborate cultural construct. She was to remain indoors, in the domestic realm, far from the rational, law-making male domain of the public sphere. She was pure, modest, soft-spoken, intellectually submissive and sexually contained. The ‘angel in the house,’ she was at once morally superior and socially compliant.

To become this ideal, women were trained in ‘feminine refinements’: embroidery, piano, painting, etiquette and so on. Fainting spells and fragile nerves were not seen as illnesses but as signs of a refined sensibility. Education for women was allowed - but strictly curated to keep out ‘dangerous’ ideas. Reading philosophy or engaging in public debate? Too radical. Marriage was not a milestone; it was the culmination of womanhood.

The Victorian world teemed with Advice Manuals - books and articles instructing women how to speak, walk, eat, sit and love. Isabella Beeton’s Book of Household Management was one such Bible of femininity. In colonial India, similar manuals surfaced, most notably Ishanchandra Basu’s The Signs of Lakshmi, which articulated the cultural markers of an ‘ideal Indian womanhood’ through an elite, Anglicised lens.

Novels as Advice Manuals: Stories as Subtle Sermons

Advice did not arrive only through sermons - it came embedded in stories. Pre-Victorian novels, particularly by Jane Austen and her literary descendants, subtly taught generations of readers what femininity ought to look like. Austen’s heroines are not just fictional characters; they are social templates. Playing piano, speaking gently, waiting for Mr. Right - these tropes were carried far beyond England’s borders.

In Kerala, this narrative model took a regional form with O. Chandu Menon’s Indulekha (1889) - the first full-fledged novel in Malayalam. Inspired more by Pride and Prejudice than by the acknowledged source Henrietta Temple, Indulekha enacts more than a story - it is a cultural performance. It prescribes gender roles. On the surface, the novel appears to support women’s education and autonomy, but a closer reading reveals its deep alignment with Victorian gender scripts.

Indulekha, the titular heroine, is educated - but only in the ‘acceptable’ domains: English literature, embroidery, Sanskrit drama and music. Her education served one function: to choose the ‘right’ partner. Madhavan, her love interest, is an iconoclast, globe-trotter, meat-eater, wine-drinker - a modern man in every sense of the term. Indulekha, on the other hand, is confined within the domestic sphere, performing refined femininity in the quiet room of a tarawad.

Even the plot follows a Victorian moral logic. Indulekha rejects a traditional match (Suri Nambuthiripad), but she does not find freedom; she finds Madhavan. Her liberation is not personal - it is scripted through a patriarchal exchange. In fact, the novel’s very structure resembles an advice manual, subtly educating the New Woman to be cultured, graceful, and desirable - within limits.

Victorian Residue in Contemporary Kerala

More than a century later, are we still living under this gendered spell?

Today, Kerala boasts of high female literacy, positive public health indices, and an active civil society.  Yet, young girls are still policed on how they sit, walk, and laugh. The moral codes of womanhood - chastity, modesty, obedience - remain intact, though dressed in a more contemporary garb. Social media platforms may celebrate female empowerment, but patriarchal expectations have not dissolved; they have become digitised.

Sexual agency, bodily autonomy, and emotional freedom are still contested terrains. A woman expressing desire, refusing marriage or questioning motherhood is often met with cultural anxiety and moral policing. Even education is often instrumentalised - not for self-actualisation, but for making women ‘marriageable.’

From Matriliny to Misogyny? Dismantling Gender Codes in 'Progressive' Kerala

Behind Kerala’s progressive façade lies stories that call for critical unpacking. For every statistical achievement, there exists an undercurrent of normativity - a carefully cultivated model of the ‘good woman’ that owes much to Victorian models.

So, the next time you hear, “Don’t laugh too loudly,” ask: “Who benefits from that silence? And what echoes of the past are shaping our present?”

It is time we questioned not only patriarchy, but the New Patriarchy. Not just colonial residues, but the Victorian residues.

Feminism in Kerala cannot afford to be ahistorical. To truly imagine freedom, we must first understand the regimes of gender we have inherited -  who established them and why?


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