imkittymyers at hotmail dot com
Monday, June 19, 2006
WITH HER NOSE IN A BOOK
When I got [my] library card, that was when my life began.
~ Rita Mae Brown ~
There's a woman in town who reads while she walks all over town. Every day. In all kinds of weather. If it's raining, she drapes a sheet of clear plastic over the top portion of her body. She walks very fast -- guestimate about 4 mph -- with her head in a book. I've often wondered if she walks by the mile or by the chapter. Does she keep on walking if she gets to a really good part of the book? I thought of her when I read this UK article. (h/t Grumpy Old Bookman)
Where can women find real men? In a book, of course…: It's not just slush, my friends; it's not just stuff with embossed pink covers. Women are now outreading men in virtually every category. … They read more action stuff. Wilbur Smith is now more read by women than men, even though his plots are about crag-jawed South Africans who spend their time shooting hippos, foiling hijacks, crashing Israeli fighter planes and wresting golf-ball sized diamonds from the sunbaked veld. I was stunned the other day to discover that Flashman is just as popular with women as with men. Yes, Flashman, the outrageous Victorian bounder who kicks off the first novel in the series by raping his father's girlfriend.
The reason women devour so much fiction is that it is the only place where they can find a certain idea of masculinity. It is a spirit that has been regulated out of the workplace and banished from the classroom.