Thanks for your insights,
tigerlily.
It's been more than six months since I read "Cleft" and it may take some time for me to reawaken the memory channel.
What comes to mind, first, however, is not the plot but the theme, and your mention of Herland. Gilman struggled with feminine principles in some way, I suspect, that Lessing hasn't. It could simply be a generational disparity or one of temperament, but there exists a sharpness in Gilman's work (Yellow Wallpaper (broken link)) that is not evident in Doris Lessing's (feminist) writing.
Gilman and Lessing both I believe suffered bad marriages (ruminating, not factual) and came from dissimilar socio-economic backgrounds. Gilman was a member of the Beecher Stowe family, while if I recall correctly Lessing came from a more middle class family in Africa--perhaps farmers--and emigrated to Britain as a young woman. One of several things they shared in common was their running away rather than running towards, and unlike Virginia Woolf, chose to live, a not insignificant difference.
The struggles each of these women faced, parallel but divergent, are evident in the two books, Herland and the Cleft.
Lessing's life is revealed in her Martha Quest series, The Children of Violence, a slow, sensitive, insightful exploration into one woman's coming of age, and then growing old and growing apart.
There is something apocalyptic about Lessing's life work, and while Cleft is not the culmination of her oeuvre, it appears to be a fractal, something akin to a piece torn from her science fiction explorations in Canopus in Argos (a series that begins with Shikasta, and follows the steps of the final Children of Violence novel, "Four Gated City."
The Cleft, and the other books, stories, plays, Lessing has written since those two landmark series appear to be important to the writer, but as a reader, I found them less substantial, more interior, and lacking the provocative implications of her earlier work.
Herland was a breakthrough book for Gilman, Cleft appears to be a silent, and somewhat lonely quest for Lessing as she explores her own conflict of gender relationships.
Strong, and often defiant women like Gilman, Lessing and others, are capable of envisioning the world through a lens few others permit themselves to view. Neither provokes animosity in their readership, but neither are writing for an antagonistic audience. To some extent, I suspect they both wrote for themselves, diaries that we read as novels.
Separating men from women, and portraying the woman as the superior gender is as fertile a subject as Gaia, and the
Alphabet and the Goddess, Shlain's non-fiction work exploring image and word, but most importantly the subjugation through word of the feminine, should be required reading at universities.
In some ways I wanted more from The Cleft then it offered, but as a huge Lessing fan, it goes without saying that I had to read it, just as I read all of Gilman's work.
The subject of the feminine and masculine has always fascinated me, and the roles each play in modern and ancient times both perplex and excite my interest.