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I
ran into Elaine Showalter, professor of English at Princeton. As an
energetic, lefty research student in the Seventies, she followed the
trail of Virginia Woolf and Vera Brittain to the Fawcett Library,
housed by then in a cramped basement in Victoria. She recalls looking
in the signing book and seeing there, with great excitement, a list of
the most illustrious names in the women's movement; before long she was
bunking off with them at lunchtime for chips at the Golden Egg. Thus
are revolutions (and careers) made.
I wondered what Showalter made of "celebrating" Esther Rantzen alongside Rosa Luxemburg. She gave me a steady look. "I hope one day researchers here will be able to look at Posh Spice's archive. What's wrong with that?" Can Prada receipts be said to constitute an archive, I mused. But Showalter insists it's what she wants - Posh is just as notable, if not more notable, than Mary Wollstonecraft. Is that what it's all about, being notable? Does the women's movement equal the Spice Girls, in the way that the labour movement equals PFI? I was going to put this to Showalter, and ask, perhaps, about the unnoted lives of the Whitechapel washerwomen and the unnoted lives of their successors, the new East Enders, Bangladeshi and Bosnian. But I found myself asking her if she'd ever read the Chalet School novels of Elinor Brent-Dyer instead. |
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But what was the answer????????? |
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Had she come across EBD's name in the list in the first paragraph? |
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