WHEN WOMEN WROTE

Tired of being accused of witchcraft? Exhausted from publishing under male pseudonyms? Or simply done with being called immoral?

I personally don’t see a problem with number one or three, mind you, but hey, I’m not you.

However, if these things do bother you, you’re in the right spot! Because today’s blog is destined to be a bestseller, like all my blogs before it. (Okay, like most of them before it.) More importantly, we’ll be diving into something that should have been a bestseller all along: the reactions to female authors throughout history.

Now, it might come as a surprise, but history is actually filled with female authors. It’s not that they didn’t exist, it’s simply that they were resisted.

It was once believed that women’s opinions didn’t belong in the realm of public affairs. Frankly, considering how ridiculous public affairs often are, I’m not sure anyone should want to be involved in them. But then again, I’m not a woman born in ancient Greece.

Even writing itself was often seen as unfeminine, immoral, and seductive. And of course, heaven forbid a woman be seductive.

Throughout history, women needed very little to be called seductive. In fact, many historical texts would have you believe that simply existing was enough.

And to that I say: I wholeheartedly agree.

Though I suspect I’m not arriving at the same conclusion as the men who wrote those texts.

So now, imagine giving this already seductive creature a quill, personal thoughts, and, worst of all, an educated tone. In a world where writing was seen as expressive and intimate, that combination caused an uproar.

In societies where a woman’s value was directly linked to her virtue and chastity, a woman who dared to write, especially if she expressed desire, risked having her value plummet. Just like Galileo, their writing challenged authority.

The difference?

When a man wrote something heretical, it usually had to be about something bold. For a woman, it only took picking up the quill.

So which of these women should we talk about in the future? Sappho? Nin? Brontë? Christine de Pizan?

For me, when I can’t choose, I pick all of the above.