A Beyoncé brand of feminism

She started off angry, then segued into “You Oughta Know,’’ the meanest jilted-ex song in music history. Her message changed from “it was my mistake to think I could trust a guy’’ to “I will crush you with my left stiletto heel, you pathetic little worm.’’ And afterward, the cameras cut to a crowd of cheering men.

This is the Beyoncé brand of feminism, both hot and strangely wholesome: It’s all about facing an imbalanced situation and taking back the power. The woman who respects herself, she sings, commands respect.

There’s a lesson in here for the jilted women of politics, a sad and public club that seems to take in a new member every few months. The latest is Elizabeth Edwards, a symbol of strength and suffering in the service of her husband’s political career -- until she learned that the guy had the gall to leave behind both a love child and a sex tape. In last year’s memoir, “Resilience,’’ she seemed to forgive him. But her response to the latest indiginities is striking: Instead of retreating to lick her wounds, she sent messages to People magazine. The result was a cover story with a flattering photo, reporting that she had reached “a breaking point’’ -- John Edwards is now exiled to the beach house -- but was magnanimous enough to meet his illegitimate daughter.

We’re most accustomed to the Wendy Vitter/Silda Spitzer model of the scorned political wife: senator or governor dallies with hooker, wife offers unswerving support and is never heard from again. I always preferred the Hillary Clinton playbook, in which you defend, then deflect, then turn your attention to yourself. (Her tolerance of her husband’s dalliances turned many women off - I don’t think my mother has forgiven her - but her rising career always seemed to me the loveliest form of revenge.)

And now we’ve got South Carolina First Lady Jenny Sanford, the Beyonce of buttoned-down political wives. When her husband refused to give up his Argentinian soul mate - and embarrassed her with an extended disappearance, saying he was hiking the Appalachian Trail when he was with his mistress in Argentina - she quickly changed her tune from “I Will Survive’’ to “I’ll Make You Sorry.’’ She filed for divorce. She’s giving speeches about how more women should run for office. The memoir came out yesterday. The Barbara Walters interview was set to air last night. On Monday, she’ll be on “The Daily Show.’’

Sanford’s strategy is clear: A woman who once had a promising banking career is trying to capitalize on an awful situation. It’s not easy to air dirty laundry, to talk about the ways you were particularly wronged, to sit across from Barbara Walters when she asks, “Did he ever call you his soul mate?’’ But if Barbara is asking, then everyone is. Why not offer the answer and sell books, too?

After all, in politics, if you don’t speak for yourself, someone else will speak for you. Even the new memoir by former John Edwards aide Andrew Young, purportedly about the depths his boss sank to hide his extramarital affair, doesn’t spare Elizabeth Edwards the tired label of “controlling’’ wife. It’s hard to blame her for trying to control the story now.

It must be strange - out-of-body, almost - to be a political spouse. Your role is to stand behind and beside, either not revealing the power you wield behind the scenes, or having no power at all. For public purposes, you exist as proof that your spouse is normal and good. And when that turns out not to be true, you have a choice.

I don’t mean whether to stay married or not; that’s solely up to the people in the marriage. But you can decide what sort of image to project, both to the world and to your spouse. Beyoncé sings that the cheater is the one who loses out, and in the case of Mark and Jenny Sanford, that’s clear. He’s the butt of jokes about the Appalachian Trail, and she’s got the buzz about a new political career.

Joanna Weiss can be reached at weiss@globe.com.