Feminist Crib Sheets - The Female Eunuch

Swot up on your fem-lit with our brand new fortnightly Feminist Crib Sheets! This week we check out Germaine Greer on sexuality, servitude, and reclaiming the stain. 

Book: The Female Eunuch

Author: Germaine Greer

Date: 1970

Pros: Attempted to rescue female sexuality from the clutches of domestic servitude.

Cons: Espouses the view that one should taste one's own menstrual blood.

What's her point?

Well, according to Greer, traditional gender roles act as a form of castration to female sexuality. A woman conforming to her position as consumer in a capitalist society keeps her docile and dependent.

This was 70s second wave feminism though, right? Isn't it a bit outdated?

At times. But the real shock comes when you recognise problems that should have been put to bed forty years ago. Sure, some of the things Greer is advocating seem a little antiquated. At times they conjure up images of little pinny-clad housewives festooned in chintz and chained to their tupperware, weeping.

Nevertheless, Greer's rallying cry against the shackles of oppressive gender roles sounds depressingly current. In fact, in many ways The Female Eunuch represents the bygone days of a radical feminism long passed; a time when a polemical tract advocating women to abandon celibacy and monogamy was greeted with enthusiasm by the then progressive Cosmo among others. Greer ties the fight for feminist principles to a fight against capitalism, a view that's enjoying a renaissance among the feminist left in light of the austerity measures and their assault on women's societal position. In many respects, The Female Eunuch is a rallying cry for revolution.

Ah yes, about that. Doesn't she want us to burn our bras?

Actually, Greer's never advocated bra burning. In the introduction to the 21st Anniversary Edition, she wrote that "Bras are a ludicrous invention" yet to impose "bralessness" would be to subject women to yet more rules and regulations. A claim often levelled at feminism is that it just creates another strict set of rules by which women should live their lives, alienating those that genuinely choose to wear makeup, choose to shave their legs, or choose to be housewives. It's a very current concern for a fourth wave that seeks inclusivity. In any case, and as anyone with breasts who has ever run down a flight of stairs can testify, bras are a useful tool in ensuring you can jog handsfree without feeling like two painful and overenthusiastic gerbils are trying to escape from your v-neck.

OK, so her call for revolution doesn't extend to incinerating my underwire, so far so good. But what was that you said about menstrual blood?

Ah. Yes. Arguably the most memorable quotation reads thusly: "If you think you are emancipated, you might consider the idea of tasting your own menstrual blood – if it makes you sick, you've a long way to go, baby". Believe it or not, there's a whole movement built around so-called 'menstrual activism'. Don't believe me? Check out the Menstrual Activists Research Collective and their evocative slogan "Leave your M.A.R.C". Or Chella Quint's TEDx talk, Adventures in Menstruating. Or Ingrid Berthon-Moine's barmy but brilliant photographs of women wearing their own personal shade of red, a move which, if adopted by womenkind at large, would singlehandedly put the beauty industry out of business whilst taking Molly Ringwald's Breakfast Club party trick to a whole new level...

If ad-land is to be believed, women and girls should be mortified at the idea that anyone see ANY EVIDENCE WHATSOEVER of their Jackson Pollock Pants Week. In fact, the red-faced ick-factor surrounding periods allows feminine hygiene companies to pedal an array of 'essentials', from godawful polkadot modesty bags and intimate wipes to master-of-disguise tampons that come in little sweetie-shaped packages.

In short (and after spending a good twenty minutes wrestling with a Mooncup on the bathroom floor as part of a feminist experiment), I can safely say that being au fait with periods is something we've yet to achieve. And periods are a feminist issue. They're bound up in the notion that women should be clean, pure, spotless, and childlike. So thanks, Germaine. Though I'm yet to sample the delights of my very own red nectar, I'll think of you every time it creeps me out a bit that I'm bleeding into my actual pants. And when mother nature delivers her next Scarlet Letter, I'll try not to read it and weep.

Disguise your tampon. This should be a Tumblr.

LK