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Saturday, September 24, 2005For all its comically bad prose and cloying eulogies to female anatomy, Our Bodies, Ourselves was in its day a solution to women's problems. In our own day it is the problem. First published in 1970, in a cheap offset edition by twelve Boston friends who sought to free their sex from dependence on doctors and husbands, it became an icon of the age. Now published by Simon & Schuster and 600 pages longer, this women's health classic has become a compendium of the curses and clichés that beset modern feminism—curses and clichés that feminism must discard or else render itself obsolete. And there's this: The advice on sex is more repellant than enlightening. If Geroge W. Bush wanted to start a wave of abstinence, he couldn't do better than to place this book in hotel rooms across the country. Never been a fan, even of the first edition. I've never bought into that idea that women (in the United States anyway) live under the thumb of men. posted by Sydney on 9/24/2005 07:42:00 PM 0 comments 0 Comments: |
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