Monthly Archives: April 2020

Business as Usual by Jane Oliver & Ann Stafford

It’s a phrase we might all be contemplating at the moment, when will it be ‘business as usual’? In this book, first published in 1933, it refers to commercial business, in this case an Oxford Street store that resembles Selfridges, and also to the business of being young and finding one’s way in London and in love. It’s a very satisfying novel with some especially attractive features.

Business as Usual 

Hilary Fane has decided to earn her own living for a year before she marries her Edinburgh fiancé, Basil. She goes to London, finds digs in the Minerva Hotel (very seedy) and sets out to find a job. Both employment and accommodation are difficult for single girls in the inter-war years. She is pleased to get a post as a lowly clerk in the Library section of Everyman’s Store.

The novel is epistolary in form, which means it’s made up of letters, memos and other paper communications sent to each other by the characters. Most of the letters are by Hilary to Basil or to her parents in Edinburgh. They include long descriptions of what she does, eats, how she budgets, changes digs, and her issues and challenges at work. She illustrates them with line drawings which I found very apt. 

There are also memos from store employees about Hilary or other details that help the story along, such as complaints by some of the more dyed in the wool colleagues in the face of Hilary’s innovations. The most significant, and unexplained document, is a certificate for a registered package sent from Hilary to Basil.

p121

The letters, memos and drawings all add to the charm of this novel. I most enjoyed the episode when Hilary is required to respond to a letter of complaint about an unsuitable book that has been sent to an established subscriber. The letter is brought by a senior member of staff who is very grand and Hilary gives him an appropriate nickname.

‘Mrs Pillington-Smythe’ (it said) ‘is amazed that any firm of your standing should encourage the sale of books which can undermine the morals of our country. If certain people choose to demand such literature (save the mark) that is their own affair. But surely, even in these degenerate days, youth is sacred.’ […]

‘She ought to have a very careful letter,’ I suggested. ‘We might say that these books are kept solely for a small clientele with advanced – I mean peculiar – views. And while we may deplore their tastes …’ (The Minor Prophet finished the sentence as I’d hoped.) ‘We are nevertheless obliged to satisfy their requirements.’ His voice wobbled a little, but when I looked hopefully up at him, his face was grimmer than ever. ‘And then,’ I said, ‘We’d send a much more expensive and extra pure book in exchange – no further charge, of course.’ (74-5)

Hilary’s breathless and upbeat attitude carry her through the difficulties of having very little money in Londonand through the love story that emerges in these pages. We are speedily disappointed in Basil’s response to his fiancée’s adventures. And we can see a new love interest coming over the horizon long before Hilary does. Along the way we have learned much about the life of the working girl and what went on behind the scenes in big stores and subscription libraries in the ‘30s. The book is dedicated to The people who work from nine to six.

Jane Oliver & Ann Stafford

Another feature of this book that I found fascinating was that it was written by two people. I have co-written and published books (all non-fiction) myself, and the arrangements have been varied. One book was written by one person after extensive discussions; for another the sections were written by different people; yet a third method was to sit side by side, sometimes literally sometimes metaphorically, and write each bit together. There is no clue how Jane Oliver and Ann Stafford wrote together. I wonder how these two experienced writers managed the process. And they did manage it for between them and together they wrote an astounding total of 97 books, many of them for Mills & Boon.

Finally, a word about the independent publisher, Handheld PressBusiness as Usual is one of their Classics, which they say 

present forgotten fiction and authors who need to be rediscovered, with introductions by experts and astonishingly useful notes.

The books themselves are beautifully produced, nice paper, good design, well-supported by notes and they are interesting choices. I have previously read and admired Blitz Writing by Inez Holden.

Business as Usual by Jane Oliver & Ann Stafford first published in 1933 and reissued by Handheld Press in 2020. 242pp

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Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston

It was the title that I had first noticed, although I can’t remember when. It took up residence in my consciousness as a book that I should read. Had I read anything else by the author Zora Neale Hurston? Nothing at all. But I was aware that she was a woman, black and American. And I was aware that this book in particular was recommended by readers I admire. So this was an obvious choice for the Decades Project.

Their Eyes Were Watching God was published in 1937 and is the third book in the Decades Project for 2020 (see below for more details), from the decade 1930-1939 highlighted in the Virago collection called Brilliant Careers.

Their Eyes Were Watching God

At the start of Their Eyes Were Watching God Janie returns home to Eatonville, Florida, and the town is agog to hear what has happened to her third marriage, this time to Tea Cake. Everyone assumes that he has dumped her because she is older than him. But this is not the case as we find out. The novel is framed as the story that Janie tells her best friend Pheoby about her life and three marriages.

As a child she was brought up by her grandmother, who had been born a slave. Like other women who had been slaves, she had a child by a white man and she has brought the child up on her own. The daughter, Janie’s mother had her own child, Janie, by Lord knows who. She disappeared leaving the grandmother to raise Janie. The grandmother decides when Janie is in her teens that it is time for her to marry and packs her off to her first husband, Logan, who is a farmer who simply wants her to work for him.

She is rescued by the smart-talking Joe Starks who is determined to make something of himself and has been doing well in Georgia. Now he is on his way to a town in Florida.

But he was making money where he was. But when he heard all about ‘em makin’ a town all outa colored folks, he knowed dat was de place he wanted to be. He had always wanted to be a big voice, but de white folks had all de sayso where he come from and everywhere else, exceptin’ dis place dat colored folk was buildin’ theirselves. (37-8)

The two leave Logan’s farm, get married and travel to Eatonville, where Joe sets up a store and becomes its first mayor and becomes rich. Although Joe treats Janie better than Logan had, he stifles her, wanting to possess her, to make of her what he wants. In the end she finds it oppressive.

But Joe dies, too stubborn to seek medical help and after his death Janie becomes a woman of substance. She meets and falls for sweet-talking, kind Tea Cake. They can’t quite believe they love each other. He treats her right, and she loves him. They marry and move to the Glades, and for the first time Janie feels valued and loved and is able to feel she can do what she wishes. But their lives are disrupted by a Hurricane. This is a vivid episode, and the title is taken from the moment when the wind begins to blow.

The wind came back with triple fury, and put out the light for the last time. They sat in company with the others in their shanties, their eyes straining against crude walls and their souls asking if He meant to measure their puny weight against His. They seemed to be staring at the dark, but their eyes were watching God. (211-212)

The friendly community is destroyed and Tea Cake dies. This too is vividly described, as is Janie’s anguish. She returns home with her story.

‘Now, dat’s how everything was, Pheoby, jus’ lak Ah told yuh. So Ah’m home again and Ah’m satisfied tuh be heah. Ah done been tuh de horizon and back and now Ah kin set heah in mah house and live by comparisons.’ (256-257)  

Janie imparts her hard-earned wisdom to Pheoby, able to rest in the knowledge that while her three marriages were different, Tea Cake had enabled her to reach the horizon. 

Zora Neale Hurston

The author was born in Alabama in 1891 and raised in Eatonville itself. She died in Florida in 1960. Her grandparents had been slaves, but she was able to make the best of new opportunities becoming available in the 20s and ‘30s. Her name is often associated with the Harlem Renaissance (as was Nella Larsen’s, the subject of the previous choice in this series). She was not able to access higher education in her late teens so later she took ten years off her chronological age and entered college, becoming a noted anthropologist. She was also a teacher as well as a writer.

Their Eyes was her second novel and she had already published short stories. It is told in a mixture of phonetic colloquialisms or dialect and more conventional narrative style as can be seen from the quotations. This allows her to invent some excellent words and use turns of phrase that are enchanting. I thought I might find it difficult to read, but I soon got used to the rhythms and heard some of the voices in a slightly more authentic way. 

Janie’s story can be seen as the triumphant acquisition of a voice by a black woman. In her early years and first two marriages she had no voice, but with Tea Cake and after his death she was able to speak for herself. Its appeal is universal and, as Zadie Smith points out in her introduction, it is a novel of soulfulness.

Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston, first published in 1937and then as a Virago Modern Classic in 1986. 259pp  The latest edition is introduced by Zadie Smith and has an afterword by Shirley Anne Williams.

The Decades Project 2020

This year I am indulging my pleasure at rereading and discovering previously published novels. I am framing my choices from the Virago collection: Brilliant Careers: The Virago Book of 20th Century Fiction, edited by Ali Smith, Kasia Boddy and Sarah Wood. This collection reproduces an extract from one hundred books, one published in each year of the century and reissued by Virago. My choices include rereads, classics and some new discoveries. 

The first three choices for the project were

My Brilliant Career by Miles Franklin (1901)

Mary Olivier: A Life by May Sinclair (1919)

Passing by Nella Larsen (1929)

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The Old Woman and the River by Ismail Fahd Ismail

Here is another in the series of Older Women in fiction. This is the second novel in the series to have been written in Arabic. It is set beside the River Shatt-al-Arab during the long war between Iraq and Iran (1980-1988). Why did the author explore the experiences of this old woman in this context?  Ismail Fahd Ismail was from Kuwait: and the novel was translated from the Arabic by Sophia Vasalou. It was shortlisted for the International Prize for Arabic Fiction 2018.

Regular readers of the blog will know that I am championing fiction containing older women in order to make them more visible. This will be the 46th in the series and the 8th to have been written by a man. This novel was suggested to me in August when I was guest blogger on Global Literature in Libraries, looking at older women around the world. Thanks to that reader and I’m sorry I did not keep a record of who recommended what.

The Old Woman and the River

An old woman Um Qasem, lives with her family in a village beside the river Shatt-al-Arab, near Basra in Iraq. It is 1980 and the long war with Iran has begun. The family have been ordered to uproot themselves as they are in a militarised area. On the journey her husband Bu Qasem dies suddenly and they have to bury him where he died and move on. The family resettle and put down roots in Najaf, but after a few years the old woman remains troubled by the abandoned body of her husband and decides to return home with it to Sabiliyat. 

She takes a donkey, the wonderfully named Good Omen with whom she has close understanding. Together they make the return journey, picking up her husband’s bones on the way. She returns to the abandoned village of Sabiliyat where she and the donkey take up residence, using the supplies from the houses. She is troubled by the damage done to the fields and gardens of the village because the rivers have been dammed.

A small group of soldiers is stationed on the banks of the river and although hostile at first they allow her to stay, initially, for the period of a ceasefire. They soon get used to her presence and gradually begin to help her with her projects, especially restoring irrigation channels which bring water to the gardens and cisterns of the village. They also help her to build her husband’s grave. She remains for many months, despite the danger of being killed when shelling resumes and of being sent out of the area by the military.

As in the previous novel, Consider the Lilies by Iain Crichton Smith, an old woman is deployed as the protagonist of this novel because she represents everything that the clearances and war put into danger. Highlighting the experiences of one of the weakest of the population emphasises the inhumane actions of the strong and the aggressive. She reminds the readers, and the soldiers in this novel, of some of the quieter values of human life: nurturing, caring, providing sustenance, fostering nature, caring for animals and so forth. 

The Iraq–Iran War lasted from 1980-1988. 500,000 people were killed and no borders were changed as a result of the hostilities. The novel takes no sides in criticising the long war, but focuses on families and ordinary people. The soldiers too are revealed as individuals. The old woman, by valuing human relations, history and the bountiful gifts of the land and the river, restores some humanity to the village and the soldiers.

The old woman Um Qasem

It is not clear how old Um Qasem is. She and her husband had a good loving relationship and with their family had enjoyed their lives in the village of Sabiliyat. They had children and grandchildren who adapted to their new life in Nasraf. While she loves them all, she has her own life and decisions to make. She is not a frail and dependent old lady. In fact she shows great resourcefulness and courage in the face of the terrible war. And she reminds us too of the permanent pull of our roots.

Her effect on the soldiers is a bit mystical and Ismail Fahd Ismail did not wholly resist giving her special powers. Um Qasem dreams and hold conversations with her husband in her sleep which help her re-establish the water to the village. Her communication with the Donkey, Good Omen, is also from the realm of magic. She is a life-giving force. Indeed this novel has the feel of a folk tale to it. It is also based on real events.

I have noticed that Um Qasem has been likened to other literary figures such as Robinson Crusoe or Don Quixote. However, Good Omen is a complete contrast to Modestine, Robert Louis Stevenson’s companion in the Cevennes. (See my post about their travels here.) 

Ismail Fahd Ismail

Ismail Fahd Ismail was a Kuwaiti writer, born and brought up in Sabiliyat, and he lived from 1940 to 2018. He wrote 27 novels and many short stories and is credited with founding the art of fiction in Kuwait.

The Old Woman and the River by Ismail Fahd Ismail, first published in 2016 and English version by Interlink Books in 2019. 176pp 

Translated from the Arabic by Sophia Vasalou. Shortlisted for International Prize for Arabic Fiction 2018

Here are some related posts in the Older Women in Fiction series:

An Unnecessary Woman by Rabih Alameddine

The Woman from Tantoura by Radwa Ashour

And the previous post in the series was …

Consider the Lilies by Iain Crichton Smith 

See also a comprehensive list including many recent recommendations by readers, on the page called About the Older Women in Fiction Series.

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The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton

The Age of Innocence is my choice for the 1920 Club. Its portrayal of restriction seems very appropriate for our times. Here we read of a narrow society, which curbs its members with invisible rules and customs. Mostly set in Old New York in 1871 the fates of three young people are determined by these outdated codes. In this novel Edith Wharton returns to the theme of love outside society’s boundaries. 

The 1920 Club is hosted by Kaggsy’s Bookish Ramblings and Simon at Stuck in a Book. Bloggers read a book from the year and post their thoughts on it, linking to their blogs. Simples, and a great way to choose a book that you might not otherwise read. It suits me perfectly, because I don’t want to chase new books all the time, but read and reread books, especially from the 20th century. 

The Age of Innocence

We are in New York at a precise time, 1871. We follow Newland Archer, a young man who is accomplished and cultured and believes himself a little above the society into which he was born. He will find himself as trapped by the families’ codes as everyone else, especially as he is about to announce his engagement to May Welland.

There is a problem for May’s cousin Ellen Olenska has just returned from Europe where it is known that she has abandoned her marriage to a Polish count. No matter that he is the transgressor, in Old New York  circles it is the woman of a failed marriage who is ostracised. And divorce is not accepted. And no-one in this circle speaks directly about these difficult matters.

Newland Archer agrees to announce his engagement early in order to protect May by accepting the Countess. He also persuades Ellen not to divorce her husband. He gradually falls for Ellen, and the feeling is mutual. Sensing that his attentions are elsewhere, but we are not sure if she is aware of his entanglement with Ellen, May offers to release Archer from the engagement, but he feels obliged by duty to continue to the wedding. As the Archer and Ellen become more involved everybody assumes they are lovers and conspire with May to exclude her. At the point when Archer decides that he will abandon May and follow Ellen to Europe, May reveals that she is pregnant.

Archer assumes he is above the double standards that he can so clearly see operating within their close circle. Early on he announces the revolutionary idea that men and women should be judged by the same standards. He imagines that he will achieve a companionate marriage with May, while at the same time thinking in terms of possessing her, and expecting the impossible innocence (ignorance) and purity that was implied in her virginal appearance. The author early on reveals that he assumes he is not caught by the practices, especially the silences and social estrangements that the families enforce. But he is too weak, or is it too loyal to May, to go directly against the codes. And because he is a man he has less to lose than either woman, and benefits from these codes and double standards. And because he is a man he has been trained to be self-centred.

May has been schooled in the ways of the families. Her appearance is perfect, she has intelligence, but does not use it for cultural ends. Archer quickly comes to see that marriage to her will not bring companionship but perpetuate the relationships of the society into which they were born. She out-manoeuvres Archer at every turn. It is so well done that one is not sure how far she does it consciously, that is until her final conversation with Ellen is revealed when May was deceitful even as she played her trump card.

Ellen is a more sympathetic character. Her appearance especially her interests and clothing are unorthodox, coming as she does from Europe. She challenges the mores of Old New York by the style of her appearance, the décor in her house, her social practices, and especially by her relationship with Newland Archer. She also has a way of escape. Having been persuaded not to divorce her abusive husband, and therefore with no independence or money of her own she takes a stipend from the matriarch of the family and returns to Europe. 

All three characters have suffered from the limitations of New York in the 1870s. The final chapter reveal that within a few decades it has all changed. And of course the massive social upheaval of the First World War had played its part in that.

Edith Wharton in 1920

Edith Wharton

Edith Wharton knew what she was writing about. She had been raised in New York in the 1870s, in the social milieu that she describes in this novel. She had made a bad marriage, and her husband had embezzled her money and they were finally divorced in 1913. From 1908-10 she was involved in a passionate love affair with Morton Fullerton an American journalist.in Paris. The Age of Innocence was her 12th novel and she was recognised as an exceptional writer in America as well as Europe where she now lived.

Reading The Age of Innocence

The Age of Innocence, 1st editiion

The introduction by Sarah Blackwood to the Penguin edition can be found on the Literary Hub website. She draws readers’ attention to the details in the novel. Indeed much of the tightness, restrictions of the world of the Archers and Wellands is achieved by precise details: of the time (details of plays, opera performances, books and so forth); the place (street names, descriptions of the Museum before it became the Metropolitan); physical details of houses, gardens, interiors; and clothing. The details do other work, such as revealing some of the unspoken fracture lines: eg the muddy wedding dress dragging after May across the room (p229). Throughout the novel it is clear that the characters can read every details of each other’s behaviour, and that May can do this best of all. 

The book in the past was been portrayed as costume drama, a historical romance, but that is misleading. The wedding of May and Newland occurs precisely half way through this book and it explores myths and challenges of marriage and notes that social change is on its way. 

Scorcese’s film was made in 1993, and appears to have been a costume drama starring Daniel Day Lewis, Winona Ryder and Michelle Pfeiffer. It was critically acclaimed, but apparently did not do well at the box office. I have not seen it.

The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton first published in 1920. I used the edition published by Oxford World’s Classics. 265pp

Winner of the Pulitzer Prize in 1921

No 45 on the Guardian’s List of 100 best novels

Related posts on Bookword

The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton (1906) 

Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton (1911)

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Abigail by Magda Szabo

It’s 1943, the Second World War is underway and Hungary has had an uneasy relationship with Germany since entering the war in June 1941 to assist the Axis powers. In 1944 Germany decides to occupy Hungary because independent attempts have been made to negotiate an armistice with the UK and the USA. From the occupation Jewish people are in danger, and soon after the Hungarian army is defeated by the Red Army.

It is against this backdrop that Abigail takes place. Georgina is a spoiled young daughter of an army general, and has no idea about the danger she is in, nor about the decisions that are made to keep her safe. She is sent to a prison-like strict boarding school for girls. As the story unfolds it becomes clear that this is for her protection. What I liked about this book is that the story began about the girl, but gradually widened to consider the individual in the war in Hungary.

Abigail

This is a long book, almost 450 pages, and it begins with Georgina and takes its time to unfold the full implications of her situation. At first it is about her separation in 1943 from her beloved father in Budapest as she goes to boarding school, Matula, a long way away. How will she survive the separation? And will she fit in with the other girls? The girls in her class have very strong bonds of loyalty and two of them explain the rules and the restrictions. They also introduce her to the story of Abigail, a statue which is reputed to provide answers to difficult questions that are placed in the pitcher she holds.

Soon after her arrival Georgina betrays one of the secrets of her class that provide respite from the very strict regime of the school. From this point the girls refuse to speak to her. The school has very strict Protestant rules (she describes it as Calvinist) and she breaks these too: she has personal possessions, for example, and then she tries to escape. She manages to make it up with the other girls and the story moves into its last phase. 

Hungary is in danger of being defeated in the war. Georgina’s father, the General, heads an anti-Nazi underground movement. He has placed Gina in Matula for her protection, as he fears she will be used against him if the plot is discovered. It turns out that the Gina’s guardian angel is Abigail and that the local dissident (anti-war, anti-Nazi) are the same person and that with a network of local people Gina is saved when her father is arrested. The finale is exciting as the conspirators evade the searchers.

The story is told in great detail, the uniform, the rules, the teachers, the rituals etc. Each part of the story is built gradually. Occasionally plot details are trailed. ‘She had no idea that she would never see him again’ (269). It was Bánki’s present that led to the unravelling of Gina’s hiding place. 

A great number of things happened on that late November morning but it was only much later that she saw the connection between them. Every episode or image associated with that Wednesday fused in her mind – the gaping mouths of the dead fish, the filing cabinet standing open, the glazier’s assistant with his huge moustache, and the General. (257)

For some time we believe the mystery is to uncover the identity of Abigail, the person behind the statue. And like Gina, it is only later that readers can connect her to the smashed aquarium, the missing files and the other events of that morning.

Gina changes from being a spoiled little rich girl to a resourceful and determined (yet  opinionated) daughter of a General. While she is unwise, young, selfish, the reader still has sympathy for her in her various predicaments. One can admire her pride, her loyalty and her ingenuity. And in the end she has joined the network of people protecting what they can of Hungary. It is a long book but a gripping story.

Magda Szabo

The author lived between 1917 and 2007 in Hungary. Her work was not published during the Stalinist years. Later she published several novels which won her great acclaim, the first was Katalin Street in 1969. It was The Door that brought her international success. 

The Door by Magda Szabo (1987), translated from the Hungarian by Len Rix and reissued by Vintage in English in 2005. This was the 22nd in the OLDER WOMEN in fiction series, and you can read about it here.

Abigail by Magda Szabó first published in 1970 and in English translation by Macelhose Press in 2020. 442pp

Translated from the Hungarian by Len Rix

Some recent blog reviews:

A Life in Books included her review on 10th January this year.

HeavenAli published a review on 31st January.

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Mind your sexist language!

A few years ago I became involved with someone and when it became serious I decided to tell my mother about it. ‘Oh darling,’ she said. ‘Don’t be rash!’ To which I could only reply ‘I‘m in my 50s, for goodness sake. If I can’t be rash now, when can I be?’ It made me realise that in my childhood I was often accused of being headstrong. Now there’s a word. I don’t believe that in my childhood boys were called headstrong. I was also known as a tomboy. These are all things that go against what society expects of its girls: being rash, headstrong and tomboys. Oh no, I should have been patient, pensive and feminine. Quiet and unnoticed, in other words. We still use words to indicate deviation from expected norms, especially for women and girls. (And there is a whole other vocabulary for older women, but that’s for another day).

In this post I’m going to look at a few sexist words that have evaded my attention until now, and say something about how to detect them and what to do about it.

Girls reading: Photo credit: USAID Africa on VisualHunt.com

The reversibility test

In the ‘70s I belonged to a women’s group. Today I would be described as participating in the Second Wave of feminism, but at the time we mostly called it raising awareness. I recall that at one meeting we watched a film. I don’t remember a huge amount about it except that it was in B&W and made in a Scandinavian country. The language was no barrier for there was none. The film made its points through the shock of reversing the roles of men and women.

For me the most powerful scene was in the office, where women sat behind huge desks and summoned the men to take notes, or bring them cups of tea or to have their bottoms pinched. The men worked in cramped rows typing away (it was the ‘70s). For lunch the women were provided with a lavish meal in a special dining rooms while the men went off to do their shopping which they then placed in lumpy bags at their feet under their desks. At the end of the working day the women got into their huge cars and drove home. The men picked up their awkward shopping bags and went to queue for the bus. 

From this film I learned to use the reversibility test for any situation where there may be sexism in play: would it look the same if the men and women swapped places? If not then it is usually to the detriment of women. Would a particular word mean the same thing about men and women? 

Mea culpa!

Gossips: deti_leta on Visualhunt / CC BY-NC-ND

So it was with some shame that a dawning realisation came over me that I had not been applying this test in the language I used in my reviews on Bookword. I came across a long twitter thread about all the words used about women which are not commonly applied to men. Here are some examples: 

  • Gossip
  • Feisty
  • Frumpy
  • Bubbly
  • Curvy

The originator of the twitter thread had posted some that she thought were common and invited further contributions. The thread went on way beyond my patience, listing word after word. Sadly I have not been able to rediscover this thread. (Please send it to me if you noted it and can find it again.)

It was the second word on the list that drew my attention: feisty. Quite close, people noted, in meaning to spirited and I know that I have used both these words approvingly of the authors of, for example My Brilliant Career and Mary Olivier: A Life

In my own time, as well as the above, I have been called:

  • Bossy
  • Aggressive
  • Ambitious
  • A career woman

The first three words are not intended as complements. And probably behind my back I was also called

  • Bitchy
  • Hormonal
  • Emotional
  • Catty
  • A nag

And I might even have been described as a working mother.

Applying the reversibility test you can see that some of these words indicated that I was transgressing in some way. Women were not supposed to be or do these things: but whoever refers to working fathers, or a career man? Being bossy is another way of describing a leadership role (I was a headteacher); ambitious suggests that women should not seek to advance themselves in work; and aggressive (also known as abrasive) is another term for being direct. And so on …

Devant l’affiche de “j’accuse” : Jeanne Menjoulet on VisualHunt/ CC BY

So where a word suggests that the user divides the world by gender, two categories only of course, it can be identified as sexist. 

And there’s more

I have drawn attention to 20 words. Here’s a link to an article where the writer had a list of 122 words with subtle sexist overtones. It appeared in Sacraparental in May 2016: EVERYDAY MISOGYNY: 122 SUBTLY SEXIST WORDS ABOUT WOMEN (AND WHAT TO DO ABOUT THEM). Read it here.  

So what can we do?

Use the reversibility test and then if necessary …

Call out the user of such terms when you hear them, name the practice as sexist. 

Call out and name the practice when anyone does it about you.

And another thing …

And in case you think that writers of books use gender-free terms, here is the link to an article that revealed in August last year that a robot read 3.5 million books to find women were overwhelmingly described by appearance, and men by virtue. Read it here

Ursula K. LeGuin by Gorthian reading from Lavinia at Rakestraw Books, Danville, California June 2008. Via WikiMedia

And while we are about it, I would love you to read Ursula Le Guin’s debunking of the use of he to include to all humankind, I am a man, which you can find on this link. As you might expect she is funny and to the point. 

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