The Second Sex, by Simone de Beauvoir, and farewell to French February!

February 2013 will always have a place in my heart. What a good month. Great literature has been read, and oh Lord, I have seen Paris! A magnificent month! And now we're coming to March, and most importantly, spring! I have many plans, of course, but I'll save those for my March post tomorrow.

Somehow, I managed to read nearly every book I wanted to, with the exception of Pictures of Italy by Charles Dickens, and I still can't believe I managed to read and enjoy Paradise Lost. But, yes, the focus: French Literature. I managed to read eight books for French February: His Excellency and L'Assommoir by Émile Zola (the latter still needs it's own post), Candide by Voltaire, The Social Contract and Confessions by Jean-Jacques Rousseau, The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas, The Second Sex by Simone de Beauvoir, and finally, the group read: Les Liaisons Dangereuses by Choderlos de Laclos. I've already blogged in detail that reading French Literature had quite an affect on me, and although I haven't blogged in detail about Les Liaisons Dangereuses, I truly loved this book and I hope everyone else did.

It was this afternoon I finished reading The Second Sex, which I've been meaning to read for at least ten years. I cannot hope to come even close to the quality review from the Claudia (a must-read for anyone who has read The Second Sex and anyone who wants to), but I will say a few words. On the whole, yes I liked it, I enjoyed reading it, and I had a few of those wonderful light-bulb moments. But I was also aware that it was a product of it's time, and like Claudia, I don't have the confidence or the knowledge to really analyse that. I didn't trust de Beauvoir's analysis of certain novels and novelists: Claudia has written about de Beauvoir's thoughts on female writers, and I have nothing to add to it other that "yes", so I'll quote her:

But it is harder to take de Beauvoir seriously when she dismisses all women artists with "There are women who are mad and there are women of sound method: none has that madness in her method that we call genius." or when she says that Woolf, Austen, the Brontës, George Eliot "have had to expend so much energy negatively in order to free themselves from outward restraints that they arrive somewhat out of breath at the stage from which masculine writers of great scope take their departure." In her view, none of these women writers can measure up to Tolstoy or Stendhal.

Another failing, in my eyes, was de Beauvoir's reading of Little Women, where she writes,

... in Little Women the likeable Jo is only a childhood playmate for Laurie: his love is reserved for the insipid Amy and her curls.

Yet, Louisa May Alcott wrote, "I won't marry Jo to Laurie to please any one." (I can't remember who drew my attention to this quote, but I have a feeling it was Mabel). Laurie was no match for Jo, and to marry them would have been the insult. Eszter wrote on this too, a few weeks ago, saying,

Teddy seems to me a very ordinary boy, which fact is of course not a bad thing in itself, but an extraordinary woman such as Jo needs an extraordinary man.

It was this that made me lose confidence in de Beauvoir, particularly with all things literary, and her interpretation of Eliot, Woolf, Austen, and the Brontës in the last chapter was the icing on the cake so to speak. I would be interested to hear what Little Women fans make of this.

Another problem with it was, whilst purporting to speak for women, it failed to acknowledge so many groups. No mention of women of colour is the most obvious example, and I hated that. Being a writer, being white and middle class, brings privilege and that privilege can be used to help those who are silenced or dismissed, however she didn't use that privilege. She was a white, middle class, cis gendered, able bodied woman who spoke to and for white, middle class, cis gendered, able bodied women (and it hurts people to ignore them). Some people may think that I'm being unreasonable: you cannot write for everyone and it is a mistake to try. Indeed, but to write about "women"one should attempt it, or acknowledge that one isn't writing about "women", just a certain section of women. I dare say things have moved on a little, and that many writers do acknowledge their privilege, and try to support or be allies to the women who society still tries to marginalise. But, as it happens, I do have a lot of experience of the 21st Century "cyber wave" of feminists, and a lot of the time they appal me beyond words with their attacks and dismissals of women who do not fall into line. Many, thankfully, still give me hope, although I am still to this day reluctant to identify myself as a feminist.

So yes, The Second Sex is dated, yet still fascinating. I would not dismiss it, but it has it's downfalls. I think it would be remiss not to read it, possibly, it was very important and still is to many. I think discussions of it's relevance would be very beneficial.

That, then, was February! I loved hosting French February, and I hope everyone who joined in enjoyed it! Tonight, with only an hour and a half left of the month, I'm going to try and make some progress with The Faerie Queene, have an early night, and look forward to spring. I always feel that February is the final hurdle, and it can drag, but this year it has been a lovely month. And, most importantly, the budgies enjoyed it greatly: the aviary is their playground now and they're having so much fun in there. Getting them back in is an utter nightmare, it must be said, but it's good to see them play. Trotwood even dances in there! I shall try and make a little video of the dancing Trotwood in the next few weeks!