Why the doyenne of duck pâté so divides

If only it was just about the handcrafted bird feeders made from gourds. Or the chorizo-stuffed quahogs that are perfect for a picnic at the beach. Or the "hummingbird cake" with do-it-yourself oven-dried pineapple "flowers."

Yet as Martha Stewart begins her very public legal battles, it's clearer than ever that she's one of those rare figures in the pantheon of American life whose influence - and ability to polarize - goes far beyond their chosen sphere. Like Hillary Clinton, Ms. Stewart has become an icon with the most ardent supporters and passionate critics. Her omnipresent homemaking empire has inspired everything from the hot-selling parody "Is Martha Stuart Living?" to the "SaveMartha.com" website, which calls the scandal surrounding her a "tempest in a Cuisinart."

The daughter of Polish immigrants, who brought refined simplicity to the masses, has catapulted herself into some of the most central and combustible debates in modern American life: class consciousness in an egalitarian society, the role of women at home and in business, and the desire for sophistication in a Taco Bell world.

One of the paradoxes surrounding Stewart, of course, has always been that to sell the image of the perfect homemaker, she's had to be the workaholic businesswoman.

"She's like the child of Betty Crocker and Donald Trump," says Kyla Tompkins, a graduate student at Stanford University who has been collecting submissions for an academic anthology on Stewart. One of the reasons Stewart inspires so much hostility from some, adds Ms. Tompkins, is that she stands for perfection, "the idea that perfection is attainable. The natural next step is that none of us can do it, and then we feel like we fail."

For every devoted fan who diligently paints pine cones, clips topiary, and grinds her own cumin, there's an overworked woman who sees Stewart as a living reproof of her cake-from-a-mix and nonmatching flatware world.

"It's not as if I have 24 hours in my day to go traveling and being [sic] shuttled around to drink wine and learn how to make 'blue curacao' mojito recipes in Puerto Rico," reads a typical posting on the Martha Stewart Loathing website.

THE cultural critiques of Stewart reached a new intensity this week after the doyenne of domesticity was indicted on nine criminal counts related to insider trading. She pleaded innocent to all charges. Later, the Securities and Exchange Commission filed a civil complaint seeking to ban Stewart from ever leading a public company. She has since resigned as chairwoman and CEO of Martha Stewart Living Omnimedia (though she will remain as creative chief.)

For some, the conflicted feelings about Stewart came well before the scandal. Marilyn Scott-Waters used to enjoy meticulously crafting wreaths from eucalyptus leaves and coat hangers. Then her son was born. Suddenly, she had no time for domestic niceties. "If I could get his shoes on, I was proud," laughs the Costa Mesa, Calif., designer. Today, Ms. Scott-Waters still grows her own herbs, has matching crockery, - and bears no malice toward the Queen of Good Taste.

She can now laugh about her former obsession with Stewart. "I almost divorced my husband over a squash risotto," she says. "And children don't have a real place in Martha Stewart's world. Children dress up in little dresses and come visit, but they don't leave their Legos behind."

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