I had 2 major reservations about starting it. The first was that since Germaine herself is ferociously clever, I might not understand it. My second worry was that I might become enraged at the injustices meted out to my gender, and take them out on my husband – a man who spends a LOT more time picking up after me than oppressing me. I needn't have worried about a lack of comprehension – book is very readable, full of humour and swearing. I like swearing; it is both big and clever.
The thrust of her argument is that women have been denied their sexuality: expected to say no, act coy and prefer Romance. The oppressed woman only has sex for the benefit of her man; as a reward for putting the bins out or something. This is no way to live!
Germaine is damning of “feminine wiles”, dishonest and manipulative behaviour. She exhorts us women not to live vicariously – nagging partners and children to achieve on our behalf – but to work out what we want to put our energy into doing it. ( This advice does come with a warning that this is likely to involve other people's disapproval and/or leaving a trail of destruction in your wake.) She rejects the idea of fighting against men: fighting is never a solution (it's a male perversion, apparently) and men are not the enemy. They are trapped by stereotyped gender roles just like we are. I'd say that's fair.
From my point of view it feels as if at lot has changed and the book has rather been overtaken by events – but how typical is my own experience? For example, I have been able to resist conforming to someone else's ideas of beauty pretty easily, but in hundreds of cheapo “documentaries” my fellow females are paying someone to cut into their tits, inject toxins to paralyse their faces, hoover the fat out of their ass or break and reset their noses in order to make themselves acceptable to men. Are they statistical anomalies or am I?
Then there is the world of work. I never felt that I suffered from prejudice, despite working in a male-dominated profession (I'm a software engineer). If anything being the only woman around made me stand out and has helped slightly. Rather than being paranoid that they will all be put out of work, men seem to be rather pleased by the idea that there are women out there somewhere who are amused by geek humour. At the bottom end of the market, the casualisation of labour and the invention of the McJob has meant that dead end roles can now be inflicted on men as well as women. Despite all this there is still a 17% pay gap (according to this month's BCS magazine). Companies have a legal duty not to pay men more than women, but when most companies – including my own employer – encourage a culture of secrecy around paychecks, it is impossible to tell whether they are playing by the rules.
I find myself disagreeing with Germaine over sex and marriage. She advocates not marrying and claims it is a prison. She argues that women chain themselves through marriage to unsuitable men in return for security then spend their lives acting as unpaid housekeeper. In my own marriage, my husband does not provide me with either physical of financial security (I have Kung Fu and an education for those) and I don't give him babies or housework. I hope and believe that we just live together 'cos we like one another. Marriage is also one of the areas where the book seems especially dated – Germaine claims that divorce is just too costly to allow women to break free from miserable situations. I've never tried getting divorced, but plenty of people seem to be managing it.
Just when I'd nearly convinced myself that gender equality was one of last century's debates, the following suddenly occurred to me: If there was another war that required conscription, can you imagine women being drafted? I can't. And yet, if we have the same rights as men, shouldn't we have the same duties? Why would it be unthinkable to send a child's mother off to war, but it's OK to deprive them of a father? Even though I've no desire to kill anyone or be shot at, I can't help thinking that the current state of affairs is terribly unfair on men and should therefore be changed.
And then there's still the Cult of Motherhood. Annoyingly enough, it is possible to carve out a life for yourself enjoying the same freedoms as men, but if you should give birth, it's all over and you are expected to sacrifice yourself for the good of your children. Suddenly a woman is expected to let her career languish, and to give up any hobbies she enjoys. Once you have children, any shreds of personality you might want to retain are just selfishness which must be purged from your soul. It is this attitude which has caused me to choose not to ever have children. Consider this: if raising children were really so chuffing fulfilling, why aren't men clamouring to do it?
One of my attitudes has changed as result of this book. I'm pretty much convinced by the argument that if you don't have a puritanical view of sex and see it as intrinsically evil, why would there be such a thing as having too many partners? What other consenting adults are getting up to is absolutely none of my business and I resolve to not to think of anyone as slutty. I should never joked to one friend that she was at risk of being added to the list of well-known ports.
My copy of the book comes with a mystery attached: One of the pages is missing having been ripped out. Why? In anger? But there’s plenty of swearing and polemic spread throughout the book. I like to image that somewhere, long ago a poor excuse for a husband came home one day to find that all trace of his wife had gone with no explanation other than a single page from “The Female Eunuch” stuck to the fridge door. That definitely makes the most satisfying story.
1 comment:
What a magnanimous review.
The only thing I know about Germaine (the great desire to read all her books stays intact after all these welve years I became acquainted with the name) is the little bit of Germaine Sinead O'connor provides in 'Universal Mother.' May I quote (this is from a rather contemporary Greer, circa 1990):
"The opposite to patriarchiy is not matriarchy, but fraternity."
This will forever ring in my mind as defining a seminal intellectual (not feminist). Very few men are capable of such a statement.
Your final anecdote on the torn sheet is wonderful. It frames an already beautiful, if apologetic, expression of difference with the stylish feminist.
Best,
Zeinab
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