The results of the analysis showed that, above all, the initiating partners were striving to establish a legitimate divorce narrative. The partners involved in the analysed court proceedings used two ways to establish such a narrative. The first way (see
Section 3.1) was to describe a disruptive event—i.e., a turning point—which was, in most cases, a reflection of the grounds for divorce that are explicitly mentioned in law, including violence, adultery, and abandonment. The second way (see
Section 3.2) was used when there was no clear distinctive event, and the initiation of the divorce required more explanation. These explanations generally involved a characterisation of the partner instead of a description of a particular event in the marriage. The characterisations of the partner often included a description of the various deficiencies of the spouse that referred to different dimensions of the life course and traced a slow process—i.e., a transition—from the marriage being ‘normal’ to the marriage being ‘bad’. These deficiencies were described in terms of whether the spouse was a healthy and attractive partner (
Section 3.2.1), how the spouse performed care work and paid employment (
Section 3.2.2), whether the spouse was a decent citizen (
Section 3.2.3), and how the spouse managed conflicts and emotions (
Section 3.2.4).
3.1. Turning Points within the ‘Good Marriage’: The Troubling Event
The first way to establish a legitimate divorce narrative is to describe the main turning point in the marriage. The lawsuits that cited such a disruptive event were significantly shorter than the lawsuits that included descriptions of the partner, as they generally provided a brief description of the event. These events usually consisted of one of three main types of troubling practices: physical violence (excluding sexualised physical violence, see below), adultery, and abandonment (i.e., leaving the household). These events were characterised as breaches of trust that made it impossible for the partners to recover the former state of their marriage and were cited by the initiating spouse as the reason why she or he decided to file for a divorce, as a wife described in her protocolled oral lawsuit:
‘Recently my husband became violent towards me as well. That is why I am sitting here [in court]‘ (Case no. 9 Minchew, Wife 2015).1
In cases in which there had never been any physical violence in the marriage (excluding sexualised violence, see below) before the respective event, a physical attack was often cited as an event that confirmed the decision of the initiating spouse to file for divorce. The situation was different for cases in which physical violence had been occurring since the start of the marriage. In these cases, the turning point in the marriage generally occurred when the violence became worse, i.e., when an event of severe violence occurred that received publicness through authorities such as the police (see
Section 3.3). Furthermore, experiences of sexualised or psychological violence were usually not referred to as turning points. In the analysed data, it appears that incidences of psychological and sexualised violence were described in much more detail than incidences of physical violence, which indicates that they had to be differentiated before the court from events that might occur in an ‘ordinary’ marriage. These descriptions suggest that the boundaries between ‘
normal marital problems’ (Case no. 9 Minchew, Wife 2015) and violence can be blurry and that victims may, therefore, find it harder to characterise their experiences of sexualised or psychological violence as incidences of violence than they would in cases of physical violence. In the sample, most of the initiating partners who claimed to be victims of physical or sexualised violence were women. Although there was one case in which a husband recounted that his wife had used physical violence against him, this event was not described as a turning point but was instead embedded in a broader narrative about the wife’s change of character.
Another important turning point cited in these cases was connected to the marital obligation of fidelity. In all of the cases in the sample involving adultery, the point at which the suing spouse had certainty that the other spouse was committing adultery was described as a point of no return, as the quote below illustrates:
‘The defendant committed [...] serious marital misconduct by having regular sexual intercourse with dancers and prostitutes from >spring< 2006 onwards without the plaintiff’s knowledge, and thus culpably disrupted the marriage to such an extent that the restoration of a normal marital union is no longer possible’ (Case no. 47 Happl, Wife 2015).
Regarding adultery, the pattern of how these troubling events were negotiated within the marriage and within the proceeding appeared to be gendered. Wives in the sample used concrete terms such as
‘intercourse’ (Case no. 47 Happl, Wife 2015) or ‘
has committed adultery’ (Case no. 50 Sommer, Wife 2015) to describe the behaviours of their husbands. Although there were husbands in the sample who at least
suggested that their wife had committed adultery, the men tended to specify these events less concretely than the women and claims that the wife had committed adultery were often embedded alongside other grounds for divorce in a general narrative about a ‘troubling wife’ (see
Section 3.2). In cases in which the husband sued his wife for divorce on these grounds, such events were moreover described using less concrete terms than the other way around. This may be an indication that the moral norms regarding sexuality are stricter for women. Thus, women may be more likely than men to endeavour to keep concrete information about their extramarital sexual activities private, which can also make it harder for a suing husband to cite concrete events that led to the breakdown of the marriage.
Interestingly, these short descriptions of events as grounds for divorce are generally in line with the legal grounds for divorce. Since ‘adultery’ or ‘physical violence’ or ‘severe mental suffering’ (
Ehegesetz 1999) are the only events that are explicitly mentioned as grounds for divorce in Article 49 Ehegesetz, having proof that the spouse was physically violent or committed adultery means that it is relatively certain that the spouse will be found guilty. In the sample, only claims of physical (in contrast to sexualised and psychological) violence were considered sufficiently clear incidences of violence to keep the narrative in the lawsuit short. The use of different approaches to describe different kinds of violence is, however, contrary to the law, which actually includes ‘causing severe mental suffering’ (
Ehegesetz 1999) in the explicitly mentioned grounds for divorce. Nonetheless, citing such grounds still requires much more detailed explanations by the suing spouse.
Another type of event that seems to be sufficiently serious to represent grounds for divorce is leaving the marital household without cause, as this act represents a breach of the marital obligation to live together. Apart from initiating a fault proceeding, another option for obtaining a unilateral divorce is for the spouses to live in separate households for three years (exceptions can be made for hardship cases; here, the time limit is expanded to six years). Thus, having left the marital household
‘for no reason’ (see quote) is a strong argument for divorce in a fault proceeding as well.
‘Our marriage was damaged when the defendant left the shared marital home for absolutely no reason, taking her movable possessions and the children with her, and now she confronts me with untenable accusations and demands. An attempt to reach an agreement was unsuccessful’ (Case no. 49 Ortlieb, Husband 2015).
Although the quote clearly indicates that the initiating spouse’s wife confronted him with accusations, the husband stated in the same sentence that the wife’s departure from the marital household was without cause, and thus was clearly a case of ‘malicious abandonment’, which is still a common reason for divorce in judicature. Regardless of the clear contradiction in the husband’s statement, claiming abandonment seems to be a legitimate way to convince the court that the conditions of the marriage no longer fit the legal concept of marriage. This contradiction makes visible how strongly the legal concept of marriage can influence the generated narratives about the ‘troubling events’ that occurred in a marriage.
In the sample, the troubling events of a ‘bad marriage’ that sufficed as a single reason for divorce, and that did not have to be explained in detail, were closely linked to the explicitly mentioned grounds for divorce and to the more specific marital obligations (i.e., ‘to live together’ compared to being in ‘comprehensive matrimonial partnership’) mentioned in the law. Therefore, the transition of a (fault) divorce seems to be heavily influenced by current family law. In the sample, the grounds for divorce that could not be supported by a brief explanation, such as acts of psychological and sexualised violence, highlight the meeting of legal and social norms in the practice of fault divorce. Whereas physical violence was seen as legitimate grounds for divorce, as it was clearly labelled as a troubling family practice, and the victims of physical violence could identify themselves as victims, other forms of violence seemed to be more difficult to be addressed using the law. As it appeared to be less common to identify and describe the victim of sexualised or psychological violence by an intimate partner as a victim, such incidences were generally explained in more detail. This may be a sign that social awareness of psychological and sexualised violence within intimate relationships is lower than it is for physical violence.
In sum, the results of the analysis indicated that the legal legitimacy of a marriage was based on three conditions: the co-residence of the spouses (living together), sexual exclusiveness in terms of intercourse, and the absence of physical violence. However, the analysis also showed that the lawsuits that did not primarily rely on a description of events but instead on a description of the partner—as is described in the following—referred primarily to broad marital obligations, such as ‘comprehensive matrimonial partnership’, ‘faithfulness’, ‘respectful treatment’, and ‘provision of support’ (
Austrian Civil Code 2018).
3.2. Transition to the ‘Bad Marriage’: Troubling Life Course Dimensions of Partners
The second approach used in the sample to establish a legitimate divorce narrative required more explanation as it relied on a characterisation of the partner, rather than on a report of a specific event that was seen as a turning point. In such cases, the partner was characterised and addressed through a narrative of development in which the trajectory of the partnership was depicted as following an almost linear process in which it went from being a ‘normal’ marriage with ‘the naturally occurring differences of opinion that can occur in a long-term relationship’ (Case no. 55 Vorderberger, Husband 2015) to being a problematic marriage that ‘was completely destroyed by the behaviour of the defendant’ (Case no. 55 Vorderberger, Husband 2015).
In some of the cases in the sample, the narrative started off with the statement that the marriage was ‘harmonious on the whole’ (Case no. 55 Vorderberger, Husband 2015) or ‘normal to happy‘ (Case no. 50 Sommer, Wife 2015)—which was also an expression of a specific understanding of what constitutes a ‘normal’ marriage. In these cases, the suing spouse seemed to want to show that she or he had a rational rather than an idealised happiness-based conception of marriage in order to defend against the charge that his or her ‘happiness standards’ were too high. In some cases, the introduction of the lawsuit noted that the main subject of the lawsuit was that the other spouse’s situation had changed since the beginning of the marriage, e.g., that the spouse’s employment status, the extent of the spouse’s alcohol consumption, or the spouse’s violent behaviour had changed (not in the form of a turning point, as described above, but through a transition). Thus, it was argued that the spouse’s status or behaviour had changed or become worse over time since the start of the marriage.
After these introductory remarks, the stories in such cases were focused on establishing a narrative that depicted the marriage as a downward spiral, which was achieved by describing a linear process in which the marriage went from being harmonious to being in a constant state that was hard to bear for the suing spouse. Such descriptions of a permanently negative set of conditions generally involved the subjectivation and representation of the other spouse as someone who was not able to adhere to the marriage contract. Such claims were further supported by citing constant and repetitive practices in the marriage that illustrated the negative state of the marriage. In cases in which there was no particular turning point in the marriage, the partner’s deficiencies, and the outcomes of these shortcomings, were described. These cases were, however, particularly informative with regard to the matrimonial obligations that are vaguely formulated in family law, such as maintaining a ‘comprehensive matrimonial partnership’, ‘faithfulness’, engaging in ‘respectful treatment’, and ‘the provision of support’ (
Austrian Civil Code 2018). In this contribution, I decided to focus on the different life course dimensions that were negotiated when a spouse claimed that his or her partner was deficient (
Section 3.2.1,
Section 3.2.2,
Section 3.2.3 and
Section 3.2.4). My results showed that being a good partner was closely linked to normative understandings of what a spouse is supposed to accomplish within the particular life phase. The problematised matrimonial offenses extended to some surprising dimensions within the life course, which I will describe one by one in the following sections.
3.2.1. Health
In the cases that involved the characterisation and subjectivation of a partner, there was a surprisingly strong focus on the body and the health of the spouse. Apart from sexual health—which is generally seen as a shared responsibility of the spouses who are expected to maintain a shared routine of sexual activity and to remain free of sexually transmitted diseases—some of the cases focused on the body and health of the problematised spouse. This was achieved by describing the ‘health career’ of the other spouse as a story of bodily decay, such as in the case of Matthias Samuel, whose wife filed for divorce. Although the main narrative was about the husband’s unemployment, the state of his health and his body was an important part of the characterisation of the husband as someone who was not able to handle responsibility—not even the responsibility for his own health.
‘He bought the dog back in 2010 because he said that the dog would be useful for dealing with his weight problems, as he would be obliged to go for a walk with the dog every day. However, the husband did not put this plan into action [...] At about the same time as he moved out of the bedroom, the husband was also neglecting his personal hygiene. Everyone recognised at that time that the husband had depressive tendencies, but he was refusing to start therapy. Indeed, he let himself go to such an extent that he no longer has any incisors in his upper jaw, and does not have prosthetic teeth or dentures’ (Case no. 10 Samuel, Wife 2015).
The narrative that addressed the husband described him as a person who lacked psychological and physical health literacy, which was seen as his sole responsibility, and was also depicted as something that he could have changed by deciding to care for himself. The quote clearly suggests that, in the mind of the suing spouse, being ill with depression was mixed up with breaking promises, such as walking the dog to lose weight, and a tendency towards laziness (‘he let himself go’). The final point in the description of the husband was that he had lost his front teeth and was thus no longer making any effort to be attractive or healthy. The husband was thus addressed as someone who had given up on himself—at least in terms of his health—and was, therefore, no longer able to be a good husband. Being in good health was depicted as something that could be achieved by caring for oneself, and thus as an individual responsibility. This became especially clear in the descriptions of spouses who were suffering from psychological diseases, such as alcohol addiction or adiposity, which were consistently described as ‘consuming to much’ instead of as signs of a disorder.
The health of the spouses was furthermore negotiated regarding the middle-aged spouses in the sample and was not mentioned in the cases of the older spouses in the sample. This may indicate that serious health issues in middle age are regarded as a deviation from normative body standards in this life phase, which also facilitates the generation of a problem narrative about a bad health status. Furthermore, the narrative about an unhealthy body was often connected with narratives and expectations about the employment and care work of middle-aged spouses who seem to face higher expectations, especially regarding the life context of wage labour, than older spouses. This connection may also be a reason why a bad health status was not mentioned as a problem in the cases of older spouses.
Generally speaking, diseases were depicted as problems that could be solved if the spouse would only put in enough effort to maintain a healthy and attractive body. Therefore, it seems that, for the suing spouse, demonstrating that the other spouse was not making enough effort to be a ‘good’ spouse was considered an appropriate legal strategy.
3.2.2. Care Work and Employment
The employment of the partner was mentioned in almost all of the cases. The perception that the defendant was too involved or not involved enough in a job to be a good partner was closely linked to the life stage of the spouses. This pattern becomes visible when the troubling partners in different life stages are compared. Although the cases involving couples who were empty nesters or who were retired and married late in life included narratives about conflicts over money—such as spending too much money or hiding big expenses—these were not embedded in a general characterisation of the partner as being too lazy or too depressed to work, as was the case for couples in the middle life stage. This pattern highlights that the suing spouse’s expectations about the employment of the other partner were not primarily dependent on the actual amount of money the couple had but rather on the specific life phase the partners were in. The problematisation of the employment of wives was often connected to the age of the children, as women were generally expected to return to employment a few years after the birth of a child. This shows that while expectations regarding employment were linked to traditional images of gender, they were also affected by the interrelatedness of life stages and the resulting expectations of other family members.
The sequence described in the narrative below about a husband’s unemployment was full of explanations, motives, possible turns, and future prospects, and was thus part of a long story. The long description about the husband’s unemployment showed that, according to the wife who was working full time, having an unemployed husband was a problem for the family (with two children), and illustrates that men are often expected to fulfil the ideal of the male breadwinner.
‘In 2012, the husband ran into problems when it became apparent that the advertising business was no longer going well, which is why his company did worse. It would have been easy for the husband to go back to the publishing business at this point. He had also worked as a journalist. His personal pride prevented him from doing so. This resulted in the husband not having a job for years, which could have led to personal bankruptcy’ (Case no. 10 Samuel, Wife 2015).
By contrast, in the sequence quoted below, in a narrative about his wife’s unemployment by a husband who was working full time, was a brief note about what had ‘
obviously’ happened to the wife’s employment, which did not seem to be crucial to the family’s income (with one child). The sequence appeared in the lawsuit as a part of a narrative of inactivity, and thus as a point that did not need be explained in detail.
‘In >winter< 2014, the defendant also went on sick leave. She was employed by the >insurance company<. This employment has now obviously been terminated due to the long sick leave’ (Case no. 21 Tembozi, Husband 2015).
While Manuel Tembozi (quoted below and above) expressed his concerns about his wife’s unemployment in a short sequence only, her shortcomings as a caregiver were extensively problematised by listing all of the domestic and care duties that she was failing to perform.
‘Although he was working full time, the plaintiff had to take care of nearly the entire household. Indeed, by the end of the relationship, he was doing all the household chores, even the ironing, for the defendant, his son, and himself. He bought all of the groceries and did the household chores, such as vacuuming, washing clothes, cooking, ironing, and everything else that needs to be done in a household’ (Case no. 21 Tembozi, Husband 2015).
Furthermore, it appears that the husband based his complaints on a hierarchy of domestic work. The complaint that the husband had to perform ‘even the ironing’ reinforces the impression that he believed that he was, more or less, obliged to undertake certain kinds of domestic work. This could be because he saw doing the laundry as a female domestic activity or because he had to iron his wife’s clothes (and thus believed that his wife should have been caring for her own clothes). Another particular feature of ironing is that ironed clothes are worn outside of the household. Thus, the husband may have interpreted ironing as a sign of caring about whether the family members were perceived as tidy and orderly by the social environment—and thus as a task that should, from his perspective, have been performed by his wife. Either way, it is clear that he did not see ironing as included in the scope of his duties within the marriage. Regarding care work, the narratives about women and their duties were the same in the cases that were filed by husbands who were already retired. This is an indication that women’s roles are shaped by the assumption that women are mainly responsible for performing care work over the whole life course and independently of their partner’s employment.
Among all of the narratives about troubling partners, I found that the descriptions of troubling partners who did not fulfil expectations related to traditional gender roles were the most detailed. A description of the failure to perform tasks that should be undertaken as a matter of course obviously requires more explanation. It seems that problematising a man who was unemployed had to be explained thoroughly, because a husband was expected to be the male breadwinner, and any deviation from that role had to be described in detail. In contrast, it appears that the narratives about women who refused to perform care work had to be more detailed than the narratives about women who were unemployed.
3.2.3. Being a Decent Citizen
Surprisingly, I found that within the analysed practices of ‘performing a bad marriage’, the narrations referred not only to what had happened within the partnership but extended beyond the relationships of the spouses and the family to the broader society. The spouses seemed to address each other in a dimension that can best be summarised as relating to hegemonic discourses of ‘being a decent citizen’ in general. To illustrate this point, I describe two dimensions in which this kind of addressing of the ‘troubling spouse’ happened.
The first dimension applies to cases in which one or both spouses had a migrant background and did not speak German as their first language. Accusing the other spouse of not wanting to integrate into ‘mainstream’ society was seen as an appropriate way to disparage him or her. This was, for example, achieved by depicting the partner as a ‘guest’ in the country who was not interested in the things he or she should be interested in, as described in the quote below:
‘The defendant has been in Austria since >summer< 2013, and has lived with me since then. In that time, it has become clear that the defendant is not interested in taking up or persevering in an occupation, and is not seriously interested in learning the German language’ (Case no. 52 Faye, Wife 2015).
Learning the language of the majority was depicted as a way for the husband to show that he wanted to integrate into the (construed) mainstream society, to educate himself, and to have a profession (other than being a musician). Thus, the husband’s unwillingness to learn the language was described as a failure on his part. The description seeks to portray that husband as someone who did not make sufficient efforts to integrate into the mainstream society over the previous two years. Thus, the narrative depicted him as being deficient in dimensions that were related to his migrant background and the implicit image of a ‘good’ migrant who strives to assimilate by learning the language of the majority and by paying taxes in the destination country. It became clear that the transition of the marriage from being ‘normal’ to being ‘bad’ was linked to other dimensions in the life course that the wife believed should have been handled in a particular way and were, therefore, normatively loaded, such as the transition of migrating to and arriving in another country. Moreover, in the narratives, the defendant’s deficiencies were often demonstrated by mentioning his or her previous family transitions, such as his or her previous divorces and separations, as well as his or her failures in these previous marriages, including incidences of adultery.
In other cases, the shortcomings of the other spouse were addressed by suggesting that she or he was guilty of delinquent behaviour. This was accomplished by describing the spouse as a threat to others, such as through drunk driving, as in the quote below:
‘[T]he defendant ignored the wife’s worries that he was driving a car in this very drunk condition, and said that if he had seven or eight beers, he doesn‘t worry at all about driving a car’ (Case no. 54 Lang, Wife 2015).
The quote not only depicts the husband as someone who was a threat but also as someone who was reckless and unconcerned about those who might harmed by his behaviour. In other cases, the ‘criminal behaviour of the defendant’ (Case no. 65, Husband Spuler 2015) was explicitly mentioned and supported through vocabulary that described criminal behaviour, such as a wife who had ‘hacked’ the computer of her suing husband and had ‘stolen sensitive professional data’ (Case no. 65 Spuler, Husband 2015). Although these delinquencies were not reported to the responsible authorities, these descriptions seem to strengthen the narrative about the deficiencies of the partner who was supposed to be at fault for the disruption of the marriage. To sum up, the abovementioned cases show that narratives about a spouse’s shortcomings in the marriage could also be extended to include discourses about the spouse’s sincerity and trustworthiness in the broader societal context.
3.2.4. Conflict and Emotional Management
Another dimension that was extensively problematised was the way in which the defendant managed conflicts and emotions. In the lawsuits, it was apparent that a ‘rational’ approach to resolving conflicts and arguments—i.e., one based on reason and logic—was seen as the basis for resolving conflicts in a healthy manner. This was especially apparent when the suing spouse problematised the attitudes of the other spouse towards alternative forms of knowledge, such as ‘
shamanism’ (Case no. 55 Vorderberger, Husband 2015), astrology, or kinesiology (Case no. 15 Lorenz, Husband 2014). These kinds of knowledge were problematised as representing an irrational basis for decision making and emotional management, as a husband explained in the quote below:
‘The kinesiologist informed the defendant that her outbursts of anger and her rage were part of her personality (!), that this was okay, and that the reasons for her behaviour lay in her environment, and with me in particular. As a result, the defendant blamed me for her outbursts and demanded that I accept her behaviour unconditionally. From then on, the marital situation has been very difficult‘ (Case no. 15 Lorenz, Husband 2014).
The husband, who stated that his wife has had outbursts of rage on a regular basis, attributed her troubling behaviour to her dependence on others—such as the kinesiologist mentioned in the quote—instead of problematising her emotional management as insufficient. In another lawsuit, a husband stated that his attempts ‘
to make his wife come down to earth again’ failed after she started to ‘
occupy herself with shamanism’ (Case no. 55 Vorderberger, Husband 2015). In the problematisation of these orientations, there was a gendered pattern in the data. Magical thinking was only problematised by husbands who depicted their wives as irrational, manipulable, and directed by others, such as by astrologers or shamans. The wives in these cases were described as making their decisions in the marriage in an irrational way and being dependent on others outside the marriage, which was attributed to a ‘
mind-set change in relation to the institution of marriage that is, obviously, asking for trouble’ (Case no. 55 Vorderberger, Husband 2015).
‘Clearly because of the influence of various people whom she got to know at her shamanism seminar, she thinks that she had been supressed […] during the whole marriage’ (Case no. 55 Vorderberger, Husband 2015).
As these quotes illustrate, the husband in this case portrayed his ‘troubling wife’ as an irrational person who was influenced by others and was not fully capable of making her own decisions. Furthermore, the wives were generally expected by their spouses and by the court to perform more emotional work in their relationships than the husbands. For example, a ‘troubling wife’, as construed in the lawsuits, was described as a woman who refused ‘caresses, hugs, and being friendly like greeting in the morning and in the evening’ (Case no. 12 Lutz, Husband 2015) or ‘caresses and touches’ (Case no. 56 Dunat and Fahringer, Husband 2015). By contrast, the husbands were considered troubling if they failed to perform adequate emotional work by displaying ‘aggressive behaviour’ (Case no. 10 Samuel, Wife 2015) or by issuing ‘insults’ (Case no. 53 Nejem and El-Amin, Wife 2015).
To sum up, in the analysis, it appears that the emotional work within relationships was still largely assigned to women. A woman could become a ‘troubling wife’ if she refused to perform positive emotional labour in the marriage, such as by ceasing to be friendly, whereas a husband only achieved the status of being a ‘troubling husband’ if he displayed negative emotions through destructive behaviours.
3.3. From Privacy to Publicness—Generating Publicness for the ‘Bad’ Marriage
In narratives about an event as a turning point within a marriage and in narratives about ‘normal’ marriages that become worse over time, the last step in the narratives was often when provisionally intra-familiar, problematised events were becoming public. This publicness involved different groups of informal and professional actors, and the problematised events became public, either intentionally or unintentionally. The informal group of actors was generally made up of the couple’s own children, other relatives, and friends, but it could also include the village as a whole. These actors were the potential audiences for the performance of the bad marriage. The professional group of actors was comprised of individuals with particular forms of expertise, such as therapists, doctors, police officers, and, ultimately, officers of the court. These groups of actors differed across the life course. For families with younger children, youth welfare services may have been important professional actors (see below). For spouses who were taking care of children over longer periods and for spouses in the third and fourth ages, the court may have been especially relevant because the determination of fault could have implications for matrimonial maintenance. These audiences were important actors who could have different effects. Moreover, because of their outside perspectives, they were expected to have more power to interpret the conflict than the spouses themselves.
In cases in which there was a long history of violence instead of a single violent event, the last step before the decision to divorce was often an event of severe violence that led to police involvement and a restraining order for the perpetrator. In such cases, the police and the court played a role. These violent situations might have led to official publicness for the first time in the relationship, which may have had important implications for the victims as it confirmed their perspectives. Another important actor was the youth welfare agency who became involved in case no. 53 Nejem and El-Amin. In her lawsuit, the wife stated:
‘Two weeks age my husband filed a complaint at the youth welfare services, claiming that I was caring for my children badly. I gave my husband a lot of chances, but now it won’t work anymore’ (Case no. 53 Nejem and El-Amin, Wife 2015).
This act seemed to be the most important turning point in the marriage, which was described as a process in which the wife gave her husband a lot of chances. Involving youth welfare services—which, in this case, may have been perceived as more of a threat than a support for the wife—made the troubles within the family official and therefore confirmed the internal perspective of the wife, giving her the strength to take the last step of filing for a divorce. In another case, a wife made the following statement in her lawsuit:
‘The defendant made promises at the family counselling centre which he did not keep at home. After coming home, the defendant berated the plaintiff, asking why she talked about everything at the therapy session, and saying that such matters were their private business’ (Case no. 50 Sommer, Wife 2015).
This very contradictory concern of the husband illustrates that he still adhered to the ideal of keeping the family’s troubles within the family in order to avoid inviting an outside perspective on the family’s difficulties. Families who follow this norm do not want the degree of normality of their family’s troubles assessed by these outside perspectives as they have their own standards.
Thus, the publicness of family troubles has two important implications. First, the publicness is a crucial part of the transition from being a ‘troubled family’ to being a ‘troubling family’ (
Morgan 2019a). Families who are concerned about their troubles or who are facing a troubling transition have their problems—and their deviation from being a ‘normal’ family—confirmed through an outside perspective. Second, actors outside the family can function as allies or opponents of the individual’s own story. Indeed, in a fault divorce, the story of the defendant is contradicted by the other spouse. Being able to involve previously uninvolved third parties appears to generate legitimacy for the version of the story told by the plaintiff, i.e., the story receives confirmation or is at least considered legitimate enough to be told to others as a legitimate version of events. This separation of ‘private’ and ‘public’, alongside the ideal of keeping family troubles within the ‘unproblematic’ family, is strongly aligned with the bourgeois family ideal of a separation of the private and the public sphere (
Helly and Reverby 2018).