# | through | # | FAQ |
Quote: |
Sunday August 12, 2007
The Observer The Great Big Glorious Book for Girls by Rosemary Davidson and Sarah Vine Viking £18.99, pp304 You only have to take one look at the fantastic sales figures for The Dangerous Book for Boys (one year in the top 10 bestseller charts and counting, and now the subject of a bid from Disney for the film rights) to realise that it would only be a matter of seconds before a publisher had the astonishing wheeze of trying to repeat the formula, only this time for girls. And here it is: The Great Big Glorious Book for Girls. Congratulations, Viking: the cynicism involved in publishing a title predicated on recapturing the lost innocence of childhood and then flogging it for £18.99 a pop takes some chutzpah. Like The Dangerous Book for Boys (exactly like), the design, illustrations, line-drawings, typeface and language are all deliberately retro-chic. But as anybody with even the most passing acquaintance with the 1975 Sex Discrimination Act might realise, invoking gender stereotypes from the interwar years is perhaps best described as 'problematic'. Everybody thinks that children should move about more, climb trees, play outside and do more things that don't require constant adult supervision. The brilliance of The Dangerous Book for Boys is that it packaged these activities as fun. The Great Big Glorious Book for Girls, on the other hand, is an entirely different beast. Essentially, it is a primer for any girl whose ambition is to be a Fifties housewife. The authors set out their stall in the very first chapter on needlecraft: 'Time was, most girls knew how to sew, embroider and generally do a range of fiddly things with yarn, thread and needles. Then came equality and feminism ... out went home economics. In came really useful stuff, like ... er ... learning to use a lathe.' Please. Everybody - male and female - should know how to sew on a button, just as they should be taught how to cook. But to package these as 'Girl' activities alongside chapters on ponies and make-up isn't helpful to anyone. There are lots of activities and suggestions in the book that come into the category of harmless fun (although the great beauty of most craft and cookery books is that they employ a modern invention called 'photography' to help show you how), but, taken as a whole, it's not: it's retrogressive claptrap dressed up as nostalgia. On the plus side, I can't imagine many girls will fall for it. Or not any I know outside of Edwardian children's books and ITV1's Heartbeat. Who are these girls who are keen to learn about the importance of adding 'well-rotted manure to your garden', who wish to sprout lentils for a 'tasty salad', make nettle soup because of its nutritious vitamin content and will be interested to learn that planting garlic alongside roses keeps greenfly away? The same girls who might want help writing to Father Christmas while simultaneously absorbing the lessons on how to pluck their eyebrows, throw a 'flower fairy party', mark out a tennis court on their 'lawn' (or, a minor concession here to anyone who doesn't happen to live in a Georgian rectory with attached grounds, 'concrete yard') and temper chocolate, which, pay attention now, you have to heat until it reaches 40 degrees centigrade, cool until it's 27C and then heat again until it's 32C? What, you don't have a cooking thermometer? Just ask Mummy to get one when she's out buying an egg coddler, an Easter egg mould and a complete set of tennis whites. Then there are things that 'every girl should know'. Every girl, that is, contemplating a life as a diplomatic wife in Anthony Eden's cabinet circa 1956: never cut your bread at dinner with a knife and always pin up your hair before bedtime and cover in a cotton cloth. What? But, then, these girls aren't meant to be the cleverest. There are some suggestions for homeopathic remedies for warts or, if that's not pseudo-scientific enough, you could always try a banana skin; there are also helpful chapters on palm-reading and horoscopes. The great lie to this book is revealed in its suggested reading matter, although the authors, Sarah Vine and Rosemary Davidson, note that some of them 'may be out of print'. Really? You mean little girls don't read Georgette Heyer any more? Or Nancy Mitford and the Chalet School series? Well, hurrah for that, I say! It's almost enough to make you believe in progress. |
Ruth B wrote: |
I think my first view on reading this review was to think, "did small girls ever read Nancy Mitford and Georgette Heyer"?! |
Ruth B wrote: |
But is not reading books like CS really progress? When you consider that in the same newspaper a university professor was ranting at the inability of his students to spell or punctuate their essays properly, is the fact that young girls are no longer reading a series that contains a character such as Miss Annersley, who is so particular about the correct use of the English language, such a bad thing? I know she certainly influences my English usage! |
Jennie wrote: |
Our history teacher told us to read Georgette Heyer for an accurate portrayal of Regency life. |
Sarah_K wrote: |
I have to say there is a part of me that is disturbed by the way those two books portray gender, I know plenty of small girls who'd much prefer the Dangerous Books for boys! |
Quote: |
Gloriously girly
I have had a bit of a pounding recently about a book that I’ve co-written, The Great Big Glorious Book for Girls. Some people – mostly women – have taken offence at the unashamedly girlish content. They appear to think that just because it teaches you how to sew on a button this in some way betrays the feminist cause. First, they’re making a category error: this book is not supposed to be a cultural critique of modern girlhood: it’s a book of things to do. Second, everyone should know how to sew on a button, regardless of their age or sex, as not knowing will mean you go out and buy another cheap shirt manufactured in an East European sweat shop, thus only encouraging the exploitation of women less fortunate than you. The problem is this: hardline feminists despise femininity. They don’t understand that taking back our femininity is not the same as having it imposed upon us. It is a subtle distinction but a vital one. |
Mrs Redboots wrote: |
I think that sneering at skills because they are traditionally "feminine" is almost as bad as requiring young women only to learn such skills! |
Gerrie wrote: |
Does anyone else still read Georgette Heyer? I love her books and only discovered them recently. I read the Observer article and laughed that all the authors she was dismissing were the ones who influenced me most! |
Quote: |
I confess, I knit and sew, I cook and do feminine things, but I also garden, paint and decorate, and do whatever takes my fancy. |
Sarah_K wrote: |
Did anyoen else watch the Stephen Fry weekend? In the programme about his guilty pleasures he included Georgette Heyer books (and mentioned he'd first read them in the San when he was still at school!) |
Quote: |
The Great Big Glorious Book for Girls is a handsome volume in the same format as the boys' version. While it is obviously intended to benefit from the success of The Dangerous Book for Boys,
it is well worth possessing in its own right. The authors cover most
areas of expertise, one being a practical country type and the other
urban and domestic. Natacha Ledgidge's illustrations reinforce the
deliberate feeling of nostalgia. This is a loving journey back to
childhood as it was in the 1950s, but it is none the worse for that . .
.
The sections on make-up and boys are probably the least useful, as girls would be more likely to get this sort of advice from magazines, but the range of suggested activities is excellent and would be a real boon for anyone organising a children's holiday club or a traditional birthday party. Above all, it ensures that there is no excuse for that maddening holiday moan, 'I can't think of anything to do.' |
output generated using printer-friendly topic mod. All times are GMT