About the time I came across an anti-feminist poem by a Japanese poet, I came across an anti-feminist poem by a South African poet. The poem is so baldly wrong that one might suspect it means to parody anti-feminism, but considering the era in which the South African poet is writing (turn of the 20th century) and the emphatic last lines, I’m guessing he’s serious. It’s an ugly poem, and I debated with myself whether to present it here, but I think it’s interesting as a piece of propaganda and for its use of vivid language. But it’s also ugly in a funny way, a way totally unintentional and campy that makes you roll your eyes and shake your head and, yes, laugh.
The New Woman
On the Threshold flaunting, brazen,
See the Coming Woman stands:
Bold her mien, absurd her garments,
Harsh her speech and strong her hands.
Loud She prates at public meeting,
Solid plants her massive foot;
Shrieks her message: ‘Man, the tyrant,
Of all evil is the root!’
Howls for equal rights for woman —
Right to don divided skirt;
Right to swear, to smoke, to gamble —
Right to drink, too woo, to flirt.
Dread Emancipated Female —
Wants to make man share the ‘Curse’;
Wants to see him rock the cradle,
Wants to wreck the Universe!
Wants man’s vote, his pants, his latchkey,
Wants this passed and that repealed —
Wants all sick’ning social festers
To her morbid gaze revealed!
She-crusader, with a ‘mission,’
Let her motto be unfurled:
‘Woman’s will must sway the senates —
Unsexed neuters boss the world.’
— Thomas Craig
Oh Craig, Craig, Craig. I am so on the side of Woman here. I’m for bold women, for women with strong hands and big feet, who can swear at injustice and flirt with the cuties, who can bring social festers to light, who can pass this and repeal that, who demand equality and have a real say in how the world is ordered.
Like the anonymous Japanese anti-feminist Thomas Craig thinks a woman’s attractiveness has something to do with whether she has human rights. I doubt he would make the same argument about his own gender. But double standards are just fine with Craig. No problem with smoking, swearing, gambling and social festering for Craig! So long as it’s exclusively men who do it. And I guess seeing a man rocking a cradle would give the easily quailed poet a conniption.
I’m always weirdly amused by the fetish such people have for gender roles. A woman in pants is bad all right, but “unsexed neuters,” whew, those are what will really wreck the universe. I mean, if you can’t tell a man from a woman, well, how will the world persist? Presumably, people who can’t tell men from women won’t be able to figure out how to have children, and the next generation will have sharper faculties.
source: A Century of South African Poetry
edited by Michael Chapman
1981. AD. Donker / Jonathan Ball Publishers
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