Feminism & Me
I was brought up in a household ruled with a rod of iron by my mother, Gretta; a woman to be admired, respected and avoided at all costs if you happened to be a useful offspring. As a result I never understood the need for feminism. Rather, I would have stood up for men’s rights most often 
ignored in our untraditional home. When I married and became a mother (sort of in that order) I unwittingly became the little woman, a position that did not sit at all well with me. Then, in 1977 I read (devoured) The Women’s Room by Marilyn French and became (overnight) misunderstood, used, angry, fuming, and a strident feminist. My husband found my enlightening experience hugely amusing and irrelevant; my brother read it too, and became the first male feminist in my small circle.
The book followed the evolution of repressed suburban housewife Mira who divorced her brutish husband in the sixties and made her way to Harvard where she found friendship with other like-minded women.
The Women’s Room, translated into nearly thirty languages, soon became a feminist classic. With this novel, Marilyn French captured the mood of a generation of women at odds with society’s traditional conception of their assigned roles.
The book is full of extremes and anger not least due to the rape of French’s eighteen-year old daughter coupled with her own difficulties within an unhappy marriage.
But any woman who stays at home to look after the children (the most underrated and yet necessary part of parenting) is in danger of becoming subsumed by housework and ostracised by those who earn their living outside of the home. When accused of hating men, French said, "What I am opposed to is the notion that men are superior to me." Well, I couldn’t have put it better myself!
Now, thirty years after reading The Women’s Room, I have come to the conclusion that we – men and women – have no greater claim on superiority whether we earn a huge salary, sweep the streets, or stay at home looking after the next generation: it all boils down to respect and tolerance and the knowledge that we all have a part to play in an inclusive and liberal society.
ignored in our untraditional home. When I married and became a mother (sort of in that order) I unwittingly became the little woman, a position that did not sit at all well with me. Then, in 1977 I read (devoured) The Women’s Room by Marilyn French and became (overnight) misunderstood, used, angry, fuming, and a strident feminist. My husband found my enlightening experience hugely amusing and irrelevant; my brother read it too, and became the first male feminist in my small circle.The book followed the evolution of repressed suburban housewife Mira who divorced her brutish husband in the sixties and made her way to Harvard where she found friendship with other like-minded women.
The Women’s Room, translated into nearly thirty languages, soon became a feminist classic. With this novel, Marilyn French captured the mood of a generation of women at odds with society’s traditional conception of their assigned roles.
The book is full of extremes and anger not least due to the rape of French’s eighteen-year old daughter coupled with her own difficulties within an unhappy marriage.
But any woman who stays at home to look after the children (the most underrated and yet necessary part of parenting) is in danger of becoming subsumed by housework and ostracised by those who earn their living outside of the home. When accused of hating men, French said, "What I am opposed to is the notion that men are superior to me." Well, I couldn’t have put it better myself!
Now, thirty years after reading The Women’s Room, I have come to the conclusion that we – men and women – have no greater claim on superiority whether we earn a huge salary, sweep the streets, or stay at home looking after the next generation: it all boils down to respect and tolerance and the knowledge that we all have a part to play in an inclusive and liberal society.
Labels: feminism, Marilyn French, The Women's Room
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