Forlag Ebury Press
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Om det å vokse opp som jente og oppdage at verden snakker likestilling, men handler ut fra helt andre prinsipper. Om å være kvinne og streve med hva feminisme er, og hvem har rett på den definisjonen? Varmt, humoristisk og slagkraftig, les den på engelsk hvis du kan! Caitling Moran er dyktig, hun behandler temaet likestilling og feminnisme med humor og no-bullshit-holdning som motiverer til videre diskusjon. "We are the guys"!
Ok, den var til tider morsom, men mest av alt wannabe-morsom på kvinners bekostning. Muligens er grunnen til at jeg misliker denne boken at jeg ikke først og fremst definerer meg som kvinne, men som et menneske. Når Caitlin Moran i tillegg legger føringer for hvordan man skal være om man er en "riktig" kvinne så provoserer det meg.
I cannot understand anti-abortion arguments that centre on the sanctity of life. As a species, we´ve fairy comprehensively demonstrated that we don´t believe in the sanctity of life. The shrugging acceptance of war, famine, epidemic, pain and life-long, grinding poverty show us that, whatever we tell ourselves, we´ve made only the most feeble of efforts to really treat human life as sacred.
I don´t understand, then, why, in the midst of all this, pregnant women – women trying to make a rational decisions about their futures and, usually, that of their families, too – should be subject to more pressure about preserving life than, say, Vladimir Putin, the World Bank, or the Catholic Church.
However, what I do belive to be genuinely sacred – and, indeed, more useful to the earth as a whole – is trying to ensure that there are as few unbalanced, destructive people as possible. By whatever rationale you use, ending a pregnancy 12 weeks into gestation is incalculably more moral that bringing an unwanted child into this world.
a) Do you have a vagina? and b) Do you want to be in charge of it? If you said ´yes´ to both, then congratulations! You´re a feminist.
What I am vexed with is the idea that, by having an abourtion, a woman is somehow being unfemale and, indeed, unmotherly. That the absolute essence of womanhood and maternity is to sustain life, at all costs, whatever the situation.
But then, I do understand why women started to reject the word ´feminism´. It ended up being invoked in so many bafflingly inappropriate contexts that – if you weren´t actually aware of the core aims of feminism, and were trying to work it out simply from the surrounding conversation – you´d presume it was some spectacularly unappealing combination of misandry, misery and hypocrisy, which stood for ugly clothes, constant anger and, let´s face it, no fucking
A couple of years ago, the voluminously lipped sex-minx du jour Scarlett Johansson revealed that she called her breasts 'my girls'. 'I like my body and face,' she said, echoing the thoughts of all but the blind, 'and I love my breasts - I call them "my girls".' Not for the first time in her career*, Johansson had raised a vexed issue. What, exactly, can a grown woman of sense and wit call her tits?
*In Lost in Translation, she presented us with the question, 'Is it ever right not to have sex with Bill Murray during a trip to Japan?', to which anyone with any sense was able to answer, 'No - you must always have sex with Bill Murray when you are on a trip to Japan.'