Let’s talk about it…

I’ve just been joining in a friendly debate on Twitter following news that the morning-after pill is going to be freely available over the counter in Ireland. While I enjoyed the debate, it’s very hard to get my ideas over in a few characters, especially when putting in five or six usernames too!

NB Whilst I have some strong religious views on some of this stuff, this isn’t what the post’s about. Just so you know.

I have long been of the opinion that sex is being totally devalued, and this just confirms that. There are so many deep emotional links to sex, and there should be, it’s the most intimate experience you can have. It should be special and important and romantic, and whether that takes place in marriage or not is a whole other question and completely down to the people involved. But the fact remains that it should be valued and taken seriously.

Quite apart from the health risks in promiscuous sex – yes HIV but also STDs and the Big P, Pregnancy – what kind of emotional fallout is there from not valuing your body or affections enough to take sex seriously and treat it as a big deal? I understand that people want flings and no-strings-attached affairs, but I don’t, personally, think it’s healthy. I understand that people want sex to be fun – it can be, and it can and should be better in a monogamous relationship. Trust and affection are a huge part of what makes sex fun and these are things that are overlooked but should be highlighted. You are opening yourself up (if you’ll pardon the expression) to an awful risk by being that intimate with someone – they can see all the parts of you that are normally hidden, both physical and emotional. Wouldn’t you rather that person was committed to you? And that that trust was being taken seriously?

I think one of my biggest worries in the whole debate is the question of pregnancy. It’s a huge deal, but it’s used far too much as a cover-all.

My husband went along as part of his job to watch a local company deal with the issue of sex in a secondary school. He came away shocked that by far the biggest emphasis of the training was about not getting pregnant. The overriding message being sent home with some pretty young kids – if I remember rightly there were some under 16s there – was that sex was fine in any context as long as you didn’t get caught, and that’s how pregnancies can be treated – getting caught. We talk about ‘unwanted pregnancy’ as if it was crabs or syphilis or even HIV – an undesirable illness to be avoided. I’ll leave aside for this post the whole issue about life before birth, it is much more than that, and repercussions can come out years later. But reducing sex down to the possible bringer of unwanted consequences totally devalues it, and THAT’S my problem today with the morning-after pill debate. It’s been available for years as a contraceptive, and if you needed it you had to go to a little extra trouble to get it. You had to just think that little bit more about what you were doing.

It’s as if sex is a hobby that can be fun but dangerous. Like rock climbing. You don’t want to fall off the cliff but if you know that extra rope is there it’s fine, take whatever risks you want. Sex isn’t a hobby. How many people will now have more and more casual sex, knowing that that pill is there if they want it, and regret it later? And if it’s available over the counter, what are the restrictions on it, for example age-wise?
*edited from original*
On the other hand, someone’s sexual choices have to be their own. I just think it’s important that they are educated choices. I’m basically saying it should be as freely available to use as it is needed but while the current phase of celebrating casual sex is in full swing (again, pardon the phrase…) can we make sure we’re upping the education as much as the celebration? Talk about it, but take it seriously.

Recommending Oneself to Strangers

I am ill qualified to recommend myself to strangers…I have not the talent which some people possess,’ said Darcy, ‘of conversing easily with those I have never seen before.’

While watching the BBC programme Faulks on Fiction on Saturday night, I was very incensed by the theory Sebastian Faulks put forward that Mr Darcy suffered from some sort of clinical depression. Not because there is anything wrong with anyone suffering from a mental illness, including a romantic hero, but because it seemed to me to be a complete misjudgement of one of my favourite fictional characters.

I have always believed Mr Darcy to be shy above all else, and I’ve not changed my mind on seeing any of the adaptations or, as unusual as it sounds, reading the book. He has his fair share of misplaced pride and arrogance, but all of this is controlled and dominated by shyness.

The quote above, from Mr Darcy’s conversation with Elizabeth at Rosings, is absolutely typical of a shy person, and his behaviour at the Meryton assembly probably how I would behave at a similar event, without the filter before people’s eyes of being a rich, handsome bachelor. Granted, it’s a bit of an understatement – given the choice, most shy people would probably change it to “I am completely unable to recommend myself to strangers and I have not the talent of conversing with almost everyone unless I’m very comfortable with them.” Let’s look at the evidence…

  • Meryton assembly – our first meeting with Darcy. He only dances with the ladies he has come with, he only speaks to his own party. And the speech which seals his fate with Lizzie?

You know how I detest [dancing], unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At an assembly such as this, it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room, whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with.

I have to say, if I were brought along to a boisterous party full of total strangers, it would be a punishment to me to dance with them as well. And, as Lizzie points out later, talking while dancing is common or even obligatory, making the whole thing so much worse. That telling phrase, “Unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner” is so important but missed out of most of the adaptations. It could be superfluous, except that it’s an important distinction when you are shy and could mark Darcy out early on as shy rather than proud.

  • The quote at the start of this post. He is “ill-qualified to recommend himself to strangers”. We should be as puzzled as Lizzie – why? He is young, handsome, rich, and brought up in the circles which should have put him most at ease. It is not just in Meryton company that he is uneasy; he does not make a distinction between being able to converse easily with strangers in a different social sphere or his own.
  • It is obviously a family trait – as soon as Elizabeth meets Georgiana she recognises that she is exceedingly shy although she has been spoken of as proud.
  • The evidence of his friends, with whom he is obviously comfortable and able to relax. They see him as a good friend. Even Wickham allows that he is different among friends, but turns it around to mean “equals in station” rather than intimate acquaintances.
  • The most important thing in my opinion – when we see Darcy on his home turf, he is a different person. He is calm, collected, pleasant and very welcoming to Mr & Mrs Gardiner, even though (as Lizzie thinks) they are “some of those very people against whom his pride had revolted”.

I think there are two strands to the problem. Firstly, it is a truth universally acknowledged that people who are shy are often mistaken for proud, haughty or above themselves. I don’t know how many times I have been painfully conscious of giving this impression myself but been completely unable to change my behaviour. The alternative impression is that we are just plain stupid and dull and cannot think of anything interesting to say. Mr Darcy’s situation in life, combined with an element of natural pride, sets him up for the first mistake. And to someone as outgoing as Lizzie, his behaviour must be completely incomprehensible.

Secondly, Darcy is as much a victim of his times and circumstances as a beneficiary of them. Even now, in an age where it is generally recommended that men get in touch with their sensitive sides, you don’t get many men admitting to shyness. Women are slightly more open about it, but men will tend to disguise it wherever possible; there is still an image of the ideal man as being strong and confident as much as there is of the ideal woman being so. In Georgian England, men (particularly of Darcy’s standing) were confident or weak, no grey areas. Darcy can’t afford to be weak, he has an estate to run, a sister to protect and establish and family reputation to uphold. Haughty, and therefore confident, it is. A big difference is in how Lizzie reacts to the two Darcys. Mr Darcy is proud and disagreeable; Georgiana, by virtue of her youth and sex, is allowed to be shy. He also has to be wary of showing weakness – remember, a close friend betrayed him. Combined with a natural shyness, it’s the death blow to any social confidence or ability to relax and trust that Darcy may have had.

So that’s my case for him being shy. With respect to Mr Faulks, I can’t help disagreeing about the clinical depression. I’m not an expert on mental health, but I’ve had some experience of depression with people close to me, and what I’ve noticed in their behaviour doesn’t correspond at all to Darcy’s. They had mood swings, and the times of detachment from those around them was completely indiscriminatory, being the same to either strangers or friends with the exception that those they trusted most got the worst of it, not the best as in Darcy’s case. He also shows no signs of neglecting his estate or retreating from social occasions; he might be quiet, even surly, but he’s there and other than the Meryton assembly, he even dances. Granted, there might be the odd time he seems dejected or morose, but a) he’s suffering from unrequited love, give him a break, and b) what kind of romantic hero doesn’t brood every now and then? in fact, what kind of human doesn’t brood every now and then?

Given all the above, I’m sticking with my original picture of Mr Darcy as shy and sensitive. It’s actually, in my opinion, quite astute of a Georgian spinster to have drawn a shy man so deftly.

Top job, Miss Austen.

Bound to Love

Bound to Love – Sally Clements

I’ve just finished reading this romance which is released today (see links below) from Embrace Books’ Red Velvet line, which they describe as “sexy, sophisticated romance”; I have to say, that sums up Sally’s book perfectly. I’ll let you read the blurb then I’ll put my own thoughts.

Sally ClementsJake Forrester, a controlled, self-reliant security expert  scarred by his father’s murder is pursuing his goal of an independent life, relying on

himself and logic, until he’s forced to accept the help of an impulsive, spirited goldsmith who follows her instincts, wherever they may lead.

When Tempest MacKenzie witnesses a gorgeous stranger being bundled into a van, she tries to help him, but becomes tangled in a complex web of intrigue. Tempest finds stubborn Jake attractive, compelling and infuriating, his logic the complete antithesis of her reliance on her instincts. And Jake is fascinated and attracted to the feisty redhead.

As they spend time together trying to thwart a heist at the British Museum, the attraction between them flares out of control. The thief has a grudge against Jake, and danger stalks their every move. Will Jake learn to trust Tempest’s intuition, before it’s too late?

The two protagonists are well drawn. Jake very much appeals to me, being tall, dark, gorgeous and combining assertiveness with a sweet vulnerability. Tempest is the aptly-named heroine who does not sit around waiting for a rescue but does her own fair share of rescuing others. I read this through in a couple of sittings, cheering Tempest and Jake on through non-stop adventure and passion. Bound to Love is a real page-turner which will not disappoint any modern romance reader!

Embrace Books are a new imprint of Salt Publishing, and I’ve been really impressed with what I’ve seen so far. If Sally’s book is indicative of their titles, I for one will be a big fan. I really love their covers too, not your usual romance covers, and Sally’s is a great example.

If you want a thrilling and romantic read for Valentine’s day, I do recommend Bound to Love.

Sally’s blog is www.sallyclements.blogspot.com, you can catch her on twitter @sallywriter, and at her crit group’s blog (The Minxes of Romance) here

Bound to Love is available in print and e-book from Amazon.co.uk here, and from Amazon.com here. You can also find it here at Salt Publishing’s Embrace Books: Red Velvet page.

Back to the Bennetts

A few months ago I developed sciatica, and I’ve had referral to a physiotherapist. I was there yesterday, as a matter of fact.

One of my biggest problems is my posture. I have a strong tendency to slump (apparently I also go constantly to one side – when I consciously straighten up I actually feel like I’m falling to the right. Weird. Anyway…) and I imagine I’m not alone. So the physio – Jenny, who’s lovely – has been trying to correct my posture. I have been taught how to stand, walk and sit straightly (another aside – I could actually learn an awful lot about this from my ten month old daughter…) and while I was practicing this in the clinic, I caught sight of my reflection in the window. I could have been starring in THE Pride and Prejudice.

Did you ever notice how straight-backed the girls were in that, especially Jane (which fits with her very proper character)? A result of underwear, yes, but also a lot of emphasis placed on deportment and carriage. Why do we not get the same emphasis now? When I was at school, being a hoarder who carried a ridiculous amount of STUFF around in my schoolbag, I was sometimes warned about posture by my mum but there was no real push to walk properly. In fact, it actually looks a bit odd to stand and walk tall, if not downright arrogant. It certainly feels odd. I know that to an extent that emphasis on deportment comes very much with the upper classes, and the need to present women as graceful and elegant; I have no real way of knowing if that is still the case today. And on the same lines, Regency working class women will not have had the same importance placed on deportment as the aristocracy. But I do think that deportment has been pushed firmly off most people’s priorities, perhaps even seen as frivolous or ‘posh’; it has a ring of ‘finishing school’ about it.

I’m not at all convinced this is a Good Thing. Why has it happened? I have a (totally unfounded on anything other than my own conjecture) theory that part of women’s emancipation, shedding restrictions such as corsets, led to us also shedding less tangible restrictions. We had the freedom to lounge like men, so we did. We felt free to focus on more important matters and dismiss carriage and posture as less so. We scoff at Victorian women, for example, distorting themselves to get a 10 inch waist in whalebone corsets, but the modern freedom I have to wear more relaxed clothes and slouch all the time is causing me harm too, and I’m fairly sure I wouldn’t have got away with it in a stricter age. I’m only 30, and I have back trouble – that’s not meant to happen! I do know that I am going to have to work very hard to get the posture that Jane Bennett had, and even if I do manage to train myself into it, I’ll look odd, unnatural, and I’ll definitely feel that way. It might be better for me, it might (and does) make me look far slimmer, but it just doesn’t feel right.

I personally think that women’s rights include the right to be, well, frivolous sometimes. It’s accepted pretty widely now that it’s not a cliche, we actually do like (in general) make-up, clothes, shopping. We like other things too, but there’s no shame in being girly. I like pink, I like my daughter in pink. (Aside – you probably saw some episode of QI where they discussed the fact that blue and pink for boys and girls is a modern thing. Fascinating. anyway…) I hope she likes pretty dresses when she’s able to choose her own stuff. And I hope I can learn from my mistakes and  encourage her to walk upright and hold her head high. Then not only might she feel proud of herself, she might escape my back problems.

Besides, it’s also a girl’s prerogative to pretend she’s a Bennett girl.

I Have a Dream…

Do you know what I would really like? What would be amazing and brilliant and fantastic and… ok, ok I’ll get on with it.

A North East Writing Festival. Yes, I know there’s one in York in March, but hear me out, please?

I’m not in the poorest bracket of people in the country, in many ways I’m very lucky. But we’re a one-salary household with two small children, and I just do not have the money to go to something as wonderful as York Festival of Writing. I wanted to, but that’s the way the cookie (or stale bread crust, cue the violins) crumbles. And York is probably my closest option – something like Oxford or Get Writing in Hertfordshire are out of the question; even if the conference / workshop fees were in my range, the cost of actually getting there would make it simply impossible. That’s only going to get worse, since fuel prices are creeping – no, not creeping, soaring up.

The thing is, I always knew that. I always knew that there were wonderful conferences and events where you had the option of workshops and meeting authors and suchlike, and I always assumed that they cost what to our family is a small fortune. I’m not totally unreasonable, I completely agree that anyone agreeing to lead the workshops etc needs to be paid and needs to have their expenses covered. But last year I got a shock. I was on Twitter (I know, what a shocking revelation) and I happened to notice Nicola Morgan tweet that one of her workshops in the Edinburgh Book Festival still had some spaces (btw if you don’t follow Nicola on Twitter or at her blog, do. Incredibly useful.). Out of daftness I clicked through to see how much it was and nearly fell off my seat – I can’t remember the price but it was something like £5. £5?! For a workshop with a prolific and talented author? And as I looked through the Festival programme all the workshops seemed to be the same sort of price. That’s it, I was off…until I saw that the travel and accommodation put it back out of reach. I couldn’t afford the train and the National Express times meant I would have to stay in Edinburgh overnight.

So imagine my excitement when I heard about the York Festival! I assumed it was the same sort of idea, but, y’know, in York. Sadly for me, it’s not; it’s the sort of thing I would have imagined before seeing the Edinburgh events. And I do not for one minute think it’s not worth every penny – believe me, if I had the money I’d have been booked as soon as the tickets went on sale. Every event looks amazing, nearly every facilitator is someone I’d be over the moon to meet, and one day, one day, I will go. But it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t, and I assume there’s a canny few who are in the same boat. Excuse the colloquialism, I’m getting to the North East bit now…

My dream, then, is to have a North East Festival of Writing, or Books, or Literature – however you want to describe it. Along the same lines as Edinburgh – individual workshops. The thing is, there are loads of talented writers around here but we are a relatively deprived part of the UK and we are a relatively neglected part of the UK. Here’s my, er, manifesto:

The NE Festival would be:

  • accessible: venues in Newcastle City Centre; perhaps also in Durham or Teesside. But Newcastle has such good transport links it is the most feasible.
  • varied: I envisage events with authors, publishers and agents, covering submissions, writing tips, Q&A, book signings, critiques…
  • sociable: alongside the individual events I’d have picnic lunches for participants (giving the speakers some rest time!) and extra dinners on Friday and Saturday night
  • affordable: my rough idea would be a blanket charge to cover entry to 3 days of events and two social dinners (“networking opportunities”!) BUT because that would be a substantial fee, I’d also charge a small amount per individual event – maybe up to £10 – and per social, so you could kind of mix and match your own Festival based on your budget. And people bringing a picnic lunch, for example, would keep costs down too.
  • locally-biased: I wouldn’t include accommodation in the overall fee. This would mean that a)prices were kept down as much as possible and b)more local writers were encourage to come. Although if any hotels wanted to do a deal and discount prices for attendees I wouldn’t say no…
  • fair: I’d cover all fees and expenses of the attending speakers. Well, not me personally. You know what I mean.

Now obviously, it’s a HUGE ask. I really do think it would be worthwhile though – I think a lot of writers from the North East would jump at the chance to go to such a Festival; or, of course, from anywhere in the country – you’d just have to sort yourselves out with a bed for the night. Ooh, or we could make it the Glastonbury of writing, and have people camp out, with a big marquee for events… *mind off on another track*

Ahem. Anyway, I’m off to research charitable trusts for the Arts to see if I can persuade anyone to fund this brainwave. Wouldn’t it be good, though? What would you put in, if you were organising the line-up? Any thoughts? But the first person to say it’ll never happen gets a rotten tomato thrown at them. A girl can dream…