Some of the discussion developing in the comments to a previous post is veering into dangerous territory, the academic take on feminism and equality - oy.
Oy, oy, oy.
I never quite know how I'll respond when someone starts quoting the 'thinkers' about the 'lot' we women face; probably I should chuckle but mostly I get rankled. I get rankled because our lot is not just one, but many, and I find it offensive that 'we', and 'our experience' are discussed in academia as though we are creatures that can be understood by study from afar.
Just amongst the readers of this blog, no two women have the same experiences, needs, passions and desires, very few of which can be reduced to matters of 'equality'. As Navillus, in that comment thread, so aptly puts it: "I am not a feminist but am myself."
Multiply that by the billions and the generalisations made by the 'thinkers' get even sillier.
Not to mention dry as dust.
It happens that we have a collection of very old Reader's Digest magazines that we pull out of storage and read once in a while. Paul found this sweet, refreshing little piece in the February, 1936 issue.
I hope it serves to wash the dust from our throats.
Alchemy of Woman
"In the original Sanskrit, the creation of woman by Twasktrie, the Vulcan of Hindu mythology, is described thus: "He took the lightness of the leaf and the glance of the fawn, the gaiety of the sun's rays and the tears of the mist; the inconstancy of the wind and the timidity of the hare, the vanity of the peacock and the softness of the down on the throat of the swallow. He added the harshness of the diamond, the sweet flavour of honey, the cruelty of the tiger, the warmth of fire and the chill of snow. He added the chatter of the jay and the cooing of the turtle dove. He melted all this and formed a woman. Then he made a present of her to man."
- Neal O'Hara in Boston Traveler