But Who'll Do the Dishes?

I thought I was finished with Calpurnia Tate, but throughout this week something about it has been bugging me, and I decided maybe this is the best way to put those thoughts to rest.

One of the themes that runs through the book is Calpurnia's frustration with the gender role she's stuck in. She wants to follow her grandfather around and immerse herself in science, but her mother is always forcing her to do things that Calpurnia considers boring and annoying, like knitting or sewing or learning to make a pie. Calpurnia hatches the idea that what she would like to do when she grows up is go to the university, but her mother seems to have her heart set on having Calpurnia "come out" in society with all the social engagements and fancy dresses that go along with it. I can see that this book is going to be celebrated as one that encourages girls to break out of the traditional roles and look to fields that have historically been dominated by men (specifically science).

I don't have a problem with girls being encouraged to explore their interests and to aspire to work in fields that have traditionally been reserved for men. I do, however, take exception to the devaluing of so-called "women's work" or "feminine interests." For the record, Calpurnia Tate is not the first book to do this; I remember reading something (sorry, can't remember what it was) in the last year or so that did the same thing. But Calpurnia is the one that brought it back to mind, so my examples will come from this book. Calpurnia, the viewpoint character girls who read this book will identify with, consistently talks trash about feminine pursuits and seems to take a certain amount of pride in being bad at all of them. She says it takes her three hours to make a pie, and then she makes fun of what a bad pie it is. The same thing is true of her tatting. She gets third prize at the fair for what she knows is a poorly-made item. When I was reading that part, I thouht, "maybe she wasn't as bad at it as she thought...maybe she's going to find something she has in common with her mother that she's ok at doing." But no. The only reason Calpurnia got third place is because there were only three entries.

Hey, people, there's as much beauty in a tatted doily as there is in an orb spider's web. And there is as much honor in being able to produce that beautiful tatted doily as there is in being able to identify the spider that spun the web.

My problem with books that take the stand on gender issues that Calpurnia Tate takes is that they perpetuate the gender divide. Stuff that guys do is interesting; stuff that girls do is boring. What preteen girl who is reading Calpurnia Tate wants to lump herself in with those boring girls like Calpurnia's friend (gosh, I've already forgotten her name!) (seriously!)? The friend may win first-place in tatting, and she may have three of Calpurnia's brothers going loony for her, but she's not very interesting. AND she has sweat on her nose - gross.

By making "masculine" pursuits the only attractive ones and by devaluing "feminine" pursuits, I think books like Calpurnia Tate are guilty of doing just what they purport to fight against - restriction of personal choice. And let's face it - the reality of the world is that someone has to cook that pie. I remember at one point while I was reading Calpurnia Tate that I became very annoyed. Calpurnia was comparing the life her mother led with the life she herself wanted. She talked about how her mother was tied down with all kinds of household chores. "But," I thought, "what's she complaining about? Viola and SanJuanna (the maids) do all the hardest work." The cooking, the washing, the cleaning - Calpurnia's mother doesn't do that. Those "feminine" chores fall to women of a lower class - the quadroon and the Latina.

I don't care if you (male or female) are a scientist. You have to eat something. You have to clean your clothes. You have to wash your dishes. Unless you don't mind living in filth, you have to clean your bathroom at some point. The joke is, men get a girlfriend to do those things. I guess a woman, if she's well-paid enough, hires another woman (who will be paid considerably less). And before anyone pipes up and says a person can eat at McDonald's, I'm going to point out that when you eat at McDonald's, you are indirectly hiring that person to cook for you - at minimum wage.

So what's my gripe? I would like to see a story sometime about a girl who aspires to be a scientist, or a doctor, or a political figure who embraces rather than rejects the feminine gender roles. I'd like to see a story about a boy who learns to make a pie or a loaf of bread at the same time he's learning to hunt and fight. I don't think those roles are mutually exclusive. Our literature for young people shouldn't make it seem that they are.

Judging a Book by Its Cover

I'm currently reading The Big Knives by Bruce Lancaster, and over the weekend, I was adding it to my "I'm Reading" list on Facebook. During the process, I found something I thought was amusing, and I thought I'd share it.

The copy of the book I'm reading is a hardcover that my son picked up at a "purging" sale at his school library. The cover looks like this:



However, the only image I could find while I was uploading this book to my Facebook page was this one:



I ask you, does that even look like the same book????! After laughing for a while, I asked myself what would lead to a pair of covers that are so different. My conclusion (which may or may not be complete hooey) is that somewhere along the line, someone decided to market the book to a different audience - women instead of men.

The first cover is, as I said, for the hardcover edition that was published in 1964. The second is from a paperback reissue (by a different publisher) in 1978. The first cover, I think, has masculine appeal - we have a group of men in buckskins, obviously engaged in some kind of frontier military action or hunting, since their guns are prominent in the picture. The second cover looks a lot like a romance novel cover (a tame one, since both the man and woman are fully clothed, ha ha, albeit in clothes that are NOT accurate for the historical period). I doubt a man browsing in a bookstore would pick up that book with a woman in a hot pink dress. I asked my husband if he would read it, and he gave me one of those looks, which I took as a "no." (LOL)

I'm guessing that somewhere along the way between 1964 and 1978, someone decided women would be a more lucrative market for this book than men. Although I'm not finished with the book yet, I don't see how on earth that decision was made. I think this is very much a book with a "male" orientation (not that I am saying there are books for men and different books for women - not at all!). Actually, the main character, Markham Cape, reminds me strongly of Alex Rider from the juvenile spy series my son liked so much a couple of years ago, or maybe even James Bond transplanted to the American frontier. There's something cool and detached about him, which I see as traits in a literary character that appeal more to men than to women. I know as a reader I like characters much better when I can identify with them (something that may or may not be influenced by the fact that I'm a woman).

Anyway, I'm really mystified by this woman on the cover. I'm nearly halfway through the book, and there hasn't yet been a woman in the story who has been anything more than a temporary flirtation for Mr. Cape. I bet if you put every line about a woman together, they wouldn't fill two pages. So now I expect a major plot turn of some kind...or is this a case of a cover that would "hook" the female reader and then deceive her???