Skip to main content

Review 10: Women & Power: A Manifesto by Professor Mary Beard

Women & Power: A Manifesto
When studying subjects at school, a fairly common refrain that bounces around your unkempt, alcohol-tattered student noggin is when am I ever going to use this in real life?. And while I’ve yet to find a real-world purpose for an isosceles triangle where an equilateral one wouldn’t do an equally excellent tri-pointy job, or had to describe my Saturday night at a discotheque to a Frenchman in his own romantic tongue, I can happily say that reading Professor Mary Beard’s Women & Power has fully justified the hours I slaved away, diligently copying other people’s homework for Latin and Ancient History classes.

Infantile ruminations on my own fragile self-worth aside, W&P is a brief but sturdy, and thoroughly readable, treatise on the ways that the ancient forebears of our modern Western culture, the Romans and the Greeks, still exercise influence on the way that women are treated in public life today.

The book is pulled together from two key lectures that Professor Beard recently delivered. This means that it’s designed to cover a wide scope of an argument, rather than necessarily delving into tremendous detail on any one thing. Obviously that wouldn’t work in a textbook, but in this context it’s perfect – you get to hold onto a single thread as Prof. Beard carefully drags you from the ancient world to the modern one. The fact that it was designed to be read aloud helps too – the language is unfussy, with pin-point directness and humour.

Oddly for a book whose central premise is that this has been going on for millennia, it feels very timely – she discusses the fact that the horrific abuse turned on women in public life has reached greater visibility, and possibly greater heights, since social media democratised and ubiquitised commentary. It’s not just op-eds in newspapers and magazines (and I use ‘just’ guardedly here, because in no way do I want to underestimate the devastating impact these media can have, and have had), but now everybody who has been exposed to the most toxic elements of our culture, in all different ways, can now regurgitate them in blazons of digital fury. It’s not necessarily a new call, to examine the ways in which our own culture creates discriminatory attitudes, but it is an effective one.

Prof. Beard brilliantly discusses a whole host of causes and symptoms, but one that particularly struck me was the directness of the way we’ve ingested the mechanisms of public debate and sophistry from the Romans and Greeks. Alongside superbly effective oratory techniques, we’ve also swallowed the misogyny that accompanied them, and when our politicians are being directly taught these techniques in all-male environments like Eton, is it any wonder that they sideline and silence women in the same ways as Cicero did?

She clearly states that she doesn’t have the answers, but that examination of our influences is the first step to getting them. She also discusses that nature of power itself in our culture – how it focuses on a few individuals rather than assigning itself to a large number of people, in different contexts. She considers that currently power is something that is had, and maybe we need to move towards a place where it is something that is done. It feels as good a place as any to start.

--

This is my tenth book review of 100 to raise money for Refuge, the domestic abuse charity. If you liked this review, or just want to help out, please donate on the link below!

JustGiving - Sponsor me now!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Review 42: The Vegetarian by Han Kang

It’s hard not to respect trees. I try my best, but they always get me in the end, the cunning green-and-brown scamps. They don’t do anyone any harm. They just stand there, absorbing nutrients from above and below, pumping out oxygen with the quiet confidence of a wizard puffing his pipe. It would be wrong to call that the central premise of Han Kang’s The Vegetarian , because it’s not. But the idea of comparing human morality against the gentle harmlessness of vegetation rings through its core. The central character, Yeong-hye, a housewife, decides to stop eating meat. While this seems like a fairly small choice and one hardly worth building a whole novel around, the novel explores the reactions of her family and her own gradual slip into extremism in a slow-but-steady deterioration. The most intriguing, and in many ways frustrating, aspect to the novel is the impenetrability of Yeong-hye herself. You’re never quite allowed inside her head, and so have to observe her change from...

Review 23: Monstress, Vol. 1: Awakening by Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda

Fantasy is a funny beast (ironically). It’s easy to dismiss it as dragons ‘n’ arrows; the land of a thousand quests, where you can’t have a word without starting it with s. But when you find someone who gets it right, it’s like finding – oh, I don’t know – a mysterious golden ring or something far-fetched like that. It has a power that sucks you in. The Hugo award-winning Monstress is a fantasy graphic novel that does it right. The world-building is superb, leaving few cracks in its foundations, and you’re aware of the wider plot in the same way as, when you’re on a train, you’re aware of the rails. That said, this isn’t for everyone. The world that Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda have painstakingly constructed is grim and gritty. In the words of a film about milkshake: there will be blood. There’s really quite a lot of it, revealed in all sorts of interesting and violent ways. There’s also a fudge-ton of swearing. These don’t feel particularly gratuitous, for the most part –...

Review 44: Moon Tiger by Penelope Lively

Claudia Hampton, the star of Penelope Lively’s Moon Tiger , is about as big a shit as you can imagine without actually being a psychopath or criminal. This book, then, is all the more impressive for being able to take such a dislikeable character and reveal the reasons why she is the way she is, and make you empathise and sympathise with her. Actually, before we get into that, let’s address the stripy lunar elephant in the room: Moon Tiger is a brilliant title for a book. It’s the sort of title I imagine that, when she came up with it, Lively lit a big cigar and swanned around the house for days chuckling to herself. A tiger! From the moon ! Whimsical diversions aside, this book has nothing to do with tigers or the moon, so get that out of your head right now. It’s actually about a woman evaluating the history of the world as it relates to her, and the discovery of the events in her life that developed her personality. It’s also a book that’s very concerned with the fal...