{"id":43,"date":"2010-10-04T09:35:05","date_gmt":"2010-10-04T08:35:05","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.badreputation.org.uk\/?p=43"},"modified":"2010-10-04T09:35:05","modified_gmt":"2010-10-04T08:35:05","slug":"an-alphabet-of-femininism-1-a-is-for-amazon","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/badreputation.org.uk\/2010\/10\/04\/an-alphabet-of-femininism-1-a-is-for-amazon\/","title":{"rendered":"An Alphabet of Femininism #1: A is for Amazon"},"content":{"rendered":"
New week, new poster… and a change of tone. Meet Hodge, folks, and
the first letter in her fully illustrated Alphabet series, where we do a bit
of dictionary-delving, art history and culture-vulturing from A to
Z.<\/strong><\/p>\n Welcome to Hodge’s
ALPHABET OF FEMINISM<\/strong>, inaugural entry, number one: pull up a
chair, gather your hot beverages round.<\/p>\n The more specific aims of this series of posts will, it is hoped,
become clearer through practice, as it works from A-Z.<\/p>\n But put simply, the idea is to address (with
reasonable neutrality), the make-up of the English mother-tongue, to
consider how the language has evolved over the centuries, and in the
process to prompt some questions about how gender issues are woven into
the fabric of the language we use everyday.<\/p>\n Incidentally, when I refer to ‘the dictionary’, I am
referring to the Oxford English Dictionary.<\/p>\n The
Tea Towel<\/p><\/div>\n
For those readers who never owned the Greek alphabet on a
tea-towel,\u00a0the ‘maz’ sound mid-Amazon<\/em> is the same ‘maz’ you find in
‘mastectomy’ and its (mostly medical) cognates. This is
because the Amazons in question \u2013 a race of female warriors
alleged to have lived in ancient Scythia, and the first definition
for the first word of the Alphabet of Femininism (hoorah!) \u2013
were said to have been rather expert in just this procedure. Or, as
the dictionary puts it, rather dryly \u2013 and, indeed,
euphemistically \u2013 ‘they destroyed their right breast to
avoid interfering with the use of the bow’.<\/p>\n
In so self-mastectomising, this army of women obviously lay
themselves open to the extended (and more explicitly
gender-specific) meaning that
amazon<\/em> took on around the mid-eighteenth century. Here,
an
amazon <\/em>is ‘a very strong, tall, or masculine
woman’, unsurprising since they are, etymologically,
removers of those most vexed of female glands in favour of
ease in brandishing weaponry (more generally considered A
Man’s Job).<\/p>\n
This all said, the original Amazons do not appear to have
been either an (exclusively) lesbian tribe, or even an
anti-maternal one: Strabo, the Greek geographer, would have
it that they periodically had a baby-breeding field trip to
a neighbouring male tribe (the Gargareans). The resultant
boy-children were exposed or sent back to their fathers; the
girls kept and trained up In The Amazon Way, a rare gender
upending for the olden days.<\/p>\n
But perhaps the most famous of these dedicated Amazons is
Hippolyte-slash-Hippolyta, the owner of a \u00a0magical
‘girdle’, which Hercules stole in one of his
less catchy labours (bit pathetic altogether, isn’t
it? It’s got a bit of a spotty thirteen year old boy
feel to it, in fact. ‘Hey Hercules! See that woman?
I dare you to steal her girdle! Yeeah, dude, you
rock!’ \u2013 That said, I’ve never been
completely sure what a ‘girdle’ means in
Ancient Scythia: I can’t really imagine an army of
one-breasted women in the habit of frequent ‘bow
handling’ being particularly concerned about how
cinched their waists are. My childhood book of
Greek Myths And Legends<\/em> depicts it as a sort of
extra snazzy belt, so that’s what I’m going
with).<\/p>\n Amazon in trousers, Attic
vase, circa 470 BC<\/p><\/div>\n
Ahem. Post-Hercules, Hippolyta appears\u00a0in every
battered school copy of
A Midsummer Night’s Dream<\/strong>, as the
future wife of Theseus, who ‘wooed her with
his sword’ (oh Theseus, you charmer), and
ex-flame of Oberon, King of The Fairies.
Shakespeare, whose use of language is so influential
that you can expect to bump into him frequently in
these dark and twisted lexical corridors,
isn’t otherwise a great user of the word
amazon<\/em>, although he does make it into the
dictionary’s quotations for the word’s
extended, more generic sense, as ‘a female
warrior’, which is the first in a pair that
ends in the aforementioned ‘very strong,
tall, or masculine woman’, unsurprisingly
considered ‘forbidding to men’ by the
author of
Sermons To Young Women <\/em>in the eighteenth
century.<\/p>\n
One contemporary application this more
general sense has had, curiously enough, is
in the modelling world, where the
‘freakish’ aesthetic of catwalk
models (and presumably also their exoticism)
makes the designation ‘amazon’
\/ ‘amazonian’ in its sense as a
‘very strong, tall, or masculine
woman’ surprisingly true to its
lexical origin (annoyingly, if fittingly,
for the inaugural post of an alphabet, the
prominence of a particular shopping site
‘everything from A-Z’, and the
tendencies of said supermodels to write
their autobiographies, obscures any such
instances of the word on Google, so
you’ll have to take my nonspecific
memory for it).<\/p>\n
Moving on, I particularly like the further
sense
amazon <\/em>acquired sometime around the
sixteenth or seventeenth century \u2013
now, alas, obsolete \u2013 as ‘the
queen in chess’, who I always
thought of as quiet sort of feminist icon,
maintaining, as Francis Beale asserts,
‘alwayes…her owne
colour’, and zipping around the
board with an alacrity denied to her
technically more important consort.<\/p>\n
To the men an Amazon never fails to
be forbidding.<\/strong><\/p>\n
JAMES FORDYCE, Sermons To Young
Women (published
1767)<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
The Queen, or Amazon, is
placed in the fourth house
from the corner of the field
by the side of her King, and
alwayes in her owne
colour.<\/strong><\/p>\n
FRANCIS BEALE,
Biochimo’s Royall
Game of Chesse-play<\/em>
(translated
1656)<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
As will become
tediously common
during these
gynocentric
word-journeys, it
seems virtually
impossible to think of
a ‘strong,
masculine woman’
without at some point
branching into her
sexuality; thus, the
final meaning of
amazon<\/em>
(unsurprisingly, the
Victorians’
contribution) as in
opposition to a
‘vestal’
(another group of
women bound together
tribal-style,
although for an
altogether different
purpose). As in,
‘Oh man, that
girl’s no
vestal; she’s
an
amazon.<\/em>‘<\/p>\n However,
amazon<\/em> is
actually a bit
of a relief
because its
overwhelming
lexical
impression is
one of a guarded
kind of respect:
Hippolyta would,
I think, be
satisfied. <\/p>\n NEXT WEEK: B
is for
Bitch<\/strong><\/p>\nA<\/h6>\n
AMAZON<\/h2>\n
“This. I Have No Use For This. Remove It.”<\/h3>\n
<\/a>
Alas! My Girdle!<\/h3>\n
<\/a>
Dot Com<\/h3>\n
Yes, But How Many People
Does She Shag?<\/h3>\n
<\/a><\/p>\n