Luisa Capetillo achieved some cultural notoriety as the first Puerto Rican woman to wear trousers in public, but A Nation of Women shows how broad andLuisa Capetillo achieved some cultural notoriety as the first Puerto Rican woman to wear trousers in public, but A Nation of Women shows how broad and engaged her political activities and interests were: she was an anarcho-communist, an anticlericalist, an advocate of free love, and a feminist whose work in favour of women's rights was firmly linked to her identity as a member of the working class. (Capetillo worked as a seamstress and in tobacco factories.)
This edition makes a collection of her works available in English translation for the first time, and I can see this being very useful in the college classroom. I do think it's likely to be mostly of historical interest, though. While Capetillo has some interesting things to say about mutual aid and the intrinsic connections between women's rights and workers' rights, a lot in here has either dated badly (homophobia; gender essentialism; belief that masturbation causes physical and mental illness) or is just kind of off the wall (Capetillo believed in reincarnation and Spiritualism and there's mention of "beneficial fluids" being sent from the afterlife; also some "social hygiene" messaging which in light of later 20th century history is uneasy reading.)...more
Why Sinéad O’Connor Matters is a reflection on the singer's cultural significance and context, published just months before her untimely death. AllysoWhy Sinéad O’Connor Matters is a reflection on the singer's cultural significance and context, published just months before her untimely death. Allyson McCabe argues what I think a lot of people have come to realise in recent years: that O'Connor was more sinned against than sinning, and that many of the stances she was condemned for at the height of her fame have since been vindicated. McCabe is empathetic but clear-eyed about O'Connor, her strengths and her imperfections. The strongest parts of the book are where McCabe digs into how her fellow journalists failed in their jobs—failed to treat O'Connor as a human being—and quotes some truly godawful interviews, mostly by men.
I do think that McCabe should have been more intentional as defining the scope of the book as Why Sinéad O’Connor Matters in an American Context. McCabe touches on some of O'Connor's actions in the late 90s (like her ordination in that Catholic splinter group) that drew attention, but devotes far less time to them and doesn't at all get into how they fit into Irish cultural/political events of the time. I remember vividly watching the Late Late Show episode where she told Gay Byrne that she was now Mother Bernadette Mary and the huge reaction to it!
But on the whole, McCabe doesn't seem to have more than a cursory knowledge of Ireland. I listened to this on audiobook, and not only does McCabe not know how to pronounce Irish names—O'Connor's sister Eimear is referred to as "Ay-MARE" throughout—but when she first mentions O'Connor's former manager, Fachtna Ó Ceallaigh, McCabe pauses to say that since his name is difficult for her to pronounce, she's just going to anglicise it to O'Kelly throughout. That's some Anglo-American cultural hegemonic BS, and surely if McCabe knew something about Irish history she'd know about the political resonances and sensitivities of language....more
A book that's unnervingly both validating and depressing, and will likely never be read by the kind of person who needs to read it most. A book that's unnervingly both validating and depressing, and will likely never be read by the kind of person who needs to read it most. ...more
I'm always in awe of Tressie McMillan Cottom's ability to convey an argument, or sum up a point, with a sentence that makes you feel like you've been I'm always in awe of Tressie McMillan Cottom's ability to convey an argument, or sum up a point, with a sentence that makes you feel like you've been hit over the head but in a very profound way. Each of these short essays has something to offer, though as of course is the case with all essay collections the extent to which you'll connect to each one will vary from reader to reader. For me, the hardest essay to read was the one about the death of her newborn daughter thanks to medical incompetence and racism; the most bitterly funny the one about how she wants a Black woman to have the chance to write banal op-eds at a major media outlet. Highly recommended....more
One of those books I was mildly embarrassed not to have read, so here I am finally getting around to it. Reading A Vindication of the Rights of WomanOne of those books I was mildly embarrassed not to have read, so here I am finally getting around to it. Reading A Vindication of the Rights of Woman at a remove of more than two centuries from when it was first published, it was striking to me how much Mary Wollstonecraft's ideas seemed both very relevant (nepo babies! abolish the British monarchy! educate kids equally and let women have careers!) and very dated (classism, racism, and xenophobia, oh my! the Enlightenment Cult of Reason everywhere!) all at once.
For all that she has blinkers on when it comes to issues of class and race, Wollstonecraft is surprisingly acute at making the connection between broader issues of hierarchy and oppression and discrimination against women. Her flaying of Rousseau was also super satisfying ("'Educate women like men,' says Rousseau, 'and the more they resemble our sex the less power will they have over us.' This is the very point I aim at. I do not wish them to have power over men; but over themselves."), and I appreciated throughout Wollstonecraft's willingness to call bullshit, even if I didn't always agree with the points she was making.
Wollstonecraft probably has made all of her main points by halfway through A Vindication, and the internal structure of the book could have used some refining to make it less repetitive, but it still retains enough of its power that you can see why it was such a landmark manifesto....more
A collection of essays by Muslim women, mostly from the UK, covering a variety of topics while centering issues of identity, representation, misogyny,A collection of essays by Muslim women, mostly from the UK, covering a variety of topics while centering issues of identity, representation, misogyny, and racism/the racialisation of Islam. As with all essay collections, some are stronger than others. I found myself with lots to think about in terms of the tensions and limitations of diversity/representation, particularly in Nafisa Bakkar's grappling with "where and why [Muslims] should be represented" and her conflicted feelings about what "guidelines", "points of difference", "sense of having some barriers that we must not break" can or should be part of thinking about Islam's social representation and status. There were other points though where I felt myself frustrated with a characterisation of Islam that seemed to skirt the line of "No True Scotsman."...more
There's absolutely a need for an accessibly written introduction to feminist history, one which stresses the plural and multivocal nature of feminismsThere's absolutely a need for an accessibly written introduction to feminist history, one which stresses the plural and multivocal nature of feminisms and looks at the wide variety of feminist/women's liberation experiences and thought around the world. Lucy Delap sets out to do that in Feminisms: A Global History, which is arranged thematically (chapters are arranged around concepts like "Dreams", "Objects", and "Songs") rather than adhering to the Western-centric wave chronology. Sadly, I don't think Delap was the best person to undertake this project—there are just too many unexamined assumptions here (e.g. using "transwoman" and "Judeo-Christian" as neutral/unmarked terms) that mean the framing of the book is not as global as its aspirations....more
This is a really tricky one to rate. On the one hand, Elinor Cleghorn writes with convincing passion about how the long-standing patriarchal biases ofThis is a really tricky one to rate. On the one hand, Elinor Cleghorn writes with convincing passion about how the long-standing patriarchal biases of the medical profession have resulted in the misunderstanding of women's illnesses and suffering, and have often compounded them. (Cleghorn looks at western Europe fairly broadly in the early part of the book, but the closer she gets to the present day the more she focuses on Anglophone bio-medicine in the UK and US.) I appreciated her awareness of how race and class affect how women are treated: wealthy white women might be patronised or infantilised about their illnesses, but Black women's pain is often dismissed by physicians as non-existent. Some of the events Cleghorn recounts are really horrific, like the early testing of the contraceptive pill on poor and mostly illiterate Puerto Rican women who were unable to give informed consent and who suffered horrific side effects.
On the other hand, Cleghorn isn't actually a trained historian of medicine (her Ph.D. is in "humanities and cultural studies", and her dissertation appears to have been on twentieth-century dance and film studies), and it shows. Her understanding of ancient and medieval history simply isn't strong, either in the general terms or in the specifics of medical history. There are factual errors (no, Gutenberg didn't invent the printing press in 1500; no, dissection was not illegal in the Middle Ages), simplistic presentations of medieval women like Jacoba Felicie and Trota (the yas queen framing of the latter in particular had me side-eyeing), and an overall reliance on cliché not grounded in any real knowledge of pre-modern history (the Middle Ages as a "time of superstition" while the eighteenth-century was one of enlightenment—both characterisations that don't quite work because they're founded on a Whiggish belief in history as an upward trajectory).
Cleghorn is writing with the goal of improving the lot of women in the present day, and that is an admirable goal! But at least in the earlier chapters of the book I could see a tendency on her part to highlight aspects of history that are more dramatic and emotive than necessarily illuminating for the topic at hand. Did the witchcraft trials (presented here as medieval but actually far more an early modern phenomenon) exert more of a force on how women were treated in medical situations than, say, the development of coverture laws? I don't think so. But the former topic is "sexier" and more dramatic than the latter, and I imagine far better known. Plus, the fact that there were medieval feme sole and that economic opportunities for women may well have constricted in the early modern period would be another point that would jar a bit with that Whiggish trajectory that is one of the book's unquestioned assumptions.
Take my three-star rating here as being a rough average of her overall argument (five stars) and Unwell Women as a work of history (two stars)....more
The now defunct Lusty Lady was a San Francisco institution in its day—a rather seedy peep show whose poles were worked by a group of women—many of theThe now defunct Lusty Lady was a San Francisco institution in its day—a rather seedy peep show whose poles were worked by a group of women—many of them feminist lesbians—who in the mid '90s decided to band together against exploitative work conditions, unionised, and eventually banded together to run the place as a co-op. Jennifer Worley, who worked at the Lusty Lady in the '90s and early '00s while a financially struggling grad student, has produced a book which is both a highly readable memoir and a reflection on feminism and worker exploitation, one which is candid and sometimes serious but never po-faced or jargony.
True, Worley had the scope to dive more into the history of sex workers' rights—we learn occasional titbits, such as the fact that the famous burlesque artist Gypsy Rose Lee was also a union organizer, but little more than that. Worley doesn't proffer any big takeaway lessons, nor does she seem to have gone back and interviewed any of her former co-workers about their thoughts or memories. This is one woman's take on her experiences, and at times I would have liked a little more of a rounded view. Still, definitely worth reading if you're interested in feminism or labour history. ...more
In Hood Feminism, Mikki Kendall brings together eighteen essays which challenge the assumptions of mainstream/white feminism in the U.S., arguing thatIn Hood Feminism, Mikki Kendall brings together eighteen essays which challenge the assumptions of mainstream/white feminism in the U.S., arguing that food insecurity and safety from police violence are more urgent feminist issues than are whether to take your husband's last name or how much to lean in as a CEO. Kendall writes clearly and with honesty, and I'd recommend this book to anyone who's new to the concept of intersectional feminism and would like to learn more. ...more
Rebecca Solnit's Mother of All Questions explores a number of issues—should we be trying to live happy lives? how does language shape us? how does artRebecca Solnit's Mother of All Questions explores a number of issues—should we be trying to live happy lives? how does language shape us? how does art create us?—from a contemporary feminist perspective.
Some of the essays haven't aged well in certain respects, though not in ways that Solnit could necessarily have predicted: here she hails Louis C.K. and Aziz Ansari as feminist men, plus... well I presume you've lived through the last few years, too. Given the backlash against feminism and women and you know... sanity... that's taken place since 2017, I find it real difficult anymore to reach the level of optimism that Solnit expresses at certain points here.
Some of the essays are much stronger than the others, but all are worth reading and Solnit's voice is smart and warm. I especially enjoyed both the opening essay on motherhood, and “80 Books No Woman Should Read" is funny and contains a succinct and beautiful take-down of Hemingway:
The gun-penis-death thing is so sad as well as ugly. The terse, repressed prose style is, in his hands, mannered and pretentious and sentimental. Manly sentimental is the worst kind of sentimental, because it’s deluded about itself in a way that, say, honestly emotional Dickens never was.
A set of essays about feminism, patriarchy, and capitalism as experienced by millennials in the U.S. The pleasures of these essays largely come from tA set of essays about feminism, patriarchy, and capitalism as experienced by millennials in the U.S. The pleasures of these essays largely come from the confidence and clarity with which Jia Tolentino frames her observations, rather than their originality. I most appreciated her essay on difficult women, which actually intersected in unexpected ways with some of my own academic interests. ...more
Fine? Lindy West writes with a great deal of verve and probably the minimum amount of anger required if you're a sentient being in 2020. But I began TFine? Lindy West writes with a great deal of verve and probably the minimum amount of anger required if you're a sentient being in 2020. But I began The Witches are Coming hoping to be challenged, or at least to encounter some new way of seeing the world. I did not find that in these pages.
Also, she is wrong about dresses with pockets....more
It's at once amazing and depressing just how many of the pieces in this collection by Audre Lorde—some of them more than 40 years old—could believablyIt's at once amazing and depressing just how many of the pieces in this collection by Audre Lorde—some of them more than 40 years old—could believably be responses to the events of 2020 with only one or two minor edits. True, there are some dated elements—invocations of the Goddess spirit which inhabits all women, etc, are so 70s to me that you can just about smell the patchouli, and they don't resonate with my feminism at all. But wow, when Lorde was good she was good—able to craft a short sentence that seems simple at first glance but that knocks you flat on your metaphorical ass as soon as you start to think about it in a combination intellectual/moral/ethical challenge. ...more
An engrossing, disturbing, and timely read, She Said recounts the experiences of two New York Times reporters—Jodi Kantor and Megan Twohey—who publishAn engrossing, disturbing, and timely read, She Said recounts the experiences of two New York Times reporters—Jodi Kantor and Megan Twohey—who published a major exposé of film producer Harvey Weinstein's long history of sexual harassment and abuse. I found the details of how journalists piece together a major story like this fascinating, and appreciated the attention Kantor and Twohey gave to the experiences of women and to the systems that conspire to gag them. The second part of the book, focusing on Christine Blasey Ford and the Kavanaugh hearings, is less engaging because Kantor and Twohey were not as involved. There's an inevitable distance there, and I don't think the authors were as blunt as they could have been in underscoring why the two stories played out differently. Harvey Weinstein was finally toppled because his ability to serve up money-generating, Oscar-winning movies was fading; Brett Kavanaugh sits on the Supreme Court of the United States because he has powerful connections and the ability to adjudicate in their favour....more
Well-written, though not revelatory or challenging to anyone who's read a lot of feminist theory. This is much more aimed at newcomers. Adichie writesWell-written, though not revelatory or challenging to anyone who's read a lot of feminist theory. This is much more aimed at newcomers. Adichie writes with her customary straightforward warmth, which makes the book appealing; the underlying strain of cis/heteronormativity, however, do not....more
Jane was an underground abortion network made up of women’s liberation activists which was active in the Chicago area in the years immediately prior tJane was an underground abortion network made up of women’s liberation activists which was active in the Chicago area in the years immediately prior to the Roe v. Wade decision. The Story of Jane is an examination of this amazing example of grassroots organising, written by one of the women involved. More than once I was astounded by the things the members of Jane were willing to do in order to make safe abortions available to as many women as possible, and by their logistical savvy. This is essential reading for anyone looking to understand the history of feminism and the struggle for reproductive rights. My hope is that it won’t become essential reading for American women who find themselves needing to rebuild Jane in the near future....more
I really only started to become politically/pop culturally aware during the latter part of the 90s, and I'm not American, so the U.S.-centric 90s BitcI really only started to become politically/pop culturally aware during the latter part of the 90s, and I'm not American, so the U.S.-centric 90s Bitch for me was an odd mix of revisiting figures with whom I was very familiar (Brittney Spears), largely unfamiliar (Fiona Apple, Beverley Hills 90210), or only had a vague understanding of at the time (tween me was aware of but bemused by the news coverage of Monica Lewinsky's dress, because why was a stain important?). Alison Yarrow examines the 90s through a feminist lens, arguing that the decade increasingly tended to depict powerful, famous, or attractive women as "bitches" while punishing women who didn't overtly perform traditional gender roles—a process which she terms "bitchification."
Some of the most powerful parts of 90s Bitch are when Yarrow simply provides wince-inducing quotations from various public figures and publications, and then draws a line from past to present. There's little scope here for back-patting at how far we've come, and Yarrow's writing is crisply bleak.
Yet while I think some of Yarrow's analysis was convincing on a micro level, I'm not sure how well it holds up on the macro level. Her adherence to her "bitchification" framework for explaining how women were treated means that Yarrow largely elides race, sexuality, and class as having explanatory power. I don't think she discusses a single queer or trans woman. She does talk about some Black women (Anita Hill, the cast of sitcom Living Single, the group TLC) in terms of both race and gender, but there's nothing about how race may have affected the media treatment of Lorena Bobbitt (Hispanic), and I don't think any other mention of Latina, Asian, or Native women. More damning, though, is the fact that there's basically no understanding expressed that race affects how white women are treated, both by the media and by policy. There's a quiet but troublesome tendency here to reduce "white woman" to a synonym for "woman."
There's also very little historical awareness/contextualisation at play, and a tendency to presume that how these women were discussed in the media was an uncomplicated proxy for how they were perceived by society as a whole. ...more
I'd class this as a solid introductory overview to some feminist ideas about everything from sex to food to motherhood to names. Jill Filipovic doesn'I'd class this as a solid introductory overview to some feminist ideas about everything from sex to food to motherhood to names. Jill Filipovic doesn't cover particularly new ground here, but I liked—and wished she'd hammered home more—her framework as to how misogyny and the U.S.'s toxic approach to pleasure and happiness reinforce one another....more
Loading...
