I’m reading The Women’s Room and it piles onto what has become my conveniently thinking. About, how lawns are not a logical or useful use of space and our fresh water supply. Why we aren’t as apathetic to the hundredth of a dollar as we are for the thousandth. How economics have shifted and people don’t just get out of high school and work their first job and raise a family anymore. Why newspapers still exist. How many times in college and high school my life was changed reading a Great book written by a well noted misogynist.
Then I start reading TWR on the nine chapter preview available on kindle. A prodigy unsubtly groomed to be wed but done at the detriment of the goal. That is, she’s taught with convention but logic proves them wrong. Niche who made her realize that there is no God gets rejected because he wrote for and under the thought that women cannot think on that level. She goes forward in life not completely comprehending the culture from a logical, yet limited, view. Then, she contrasts that with the harsh rumors of a micro-culture that is a small college. I know that it is the fifties. Elvis and the Beatles are big and there is this social tragedy of women being defined by a men. I am aware the whole time that eventually she will be crying in a public bathroom.
That is where my sample ends. I can wait a few days for the book to arrive in the mail or I can by an redundant digital copy. Although, I can think about the narrator. A grammar teacher, that doesn’t like being a grammar teacher, and telling this story from somewhere in the future, despite her feeling of inadequacy of sharing a story.
It has been quite a day.