aware, of course, that her life,
in many cases, will have been moulded to a great extent by the
responsibilities of marriage and the care of children; just as I am aware
that the lives of most of the men with whom I am acquainted have been
moulded to a great extent by the trade or profession by which they earn
their bread. But my judgment of her and appreciation of her are a
personal judgment and appreciation, having nothing to do with her
actual or potential relations, sexual or maternal, with other people. In
short, I never think of her either as a wife or as a mother -- I separate
the woman from her attributes. To me she is an entity in herself; and if,
on meeting her for the first time, I inquire whether or no she is married,
it is only because I wish to know whether I am to address her as Mrs. or
Miss.
That, frankly and as nearly as I can define it, is my attitude towards my
own sex; an attitude which, it is almost needless to say, I should not
insist upon if I did not believe that it was fairly typical and that the
majority of women, if they analyzed their feelings on the subject,
would find that they regarded each other in much the same way .
It is hardly necessary to point out that the mental attitude of the average
man towards woman is something quite different from this. It is a
mental attitude reminding one of that of the bewildered person who
could not see the wood for the trees. To him the accidental factor in
woman's life is the all-important and his conception of her has never
got beyond her attributes -- and certain only of these. As far as I can
make out, he looks upon her as something having a definite and
necessary physical relation to man; without that definite and necessary
relation, she is, as the cant phrase goes "incomplete." That is to say, she
is not woman at all -- until man has made her so. Until the moment
when he takes her in hand she is merely the raw material of
womanhood -- the undeveloped and unfinished article.
Without sharing in the smallest degree this estimate of her own destiny,
any fair-minded woman must admit its advantages from the point of
view of the male -- must sympathize with the pleasurable sense of
importance, creative power, even of artistry, which such a conviction
must impart. To take the imperfect and undeveloped creature and, with
a kiss upon her lips and a ring upon her finger, to make of her a woman,
perfect and complete -- surely a prerogative almost divine in its
magnificence, most admirable, most enviable!
It is this consciousness, expressed or unexpressed, (frequently the
former) of his own supreme importance in her destiny that colours
every thought and action of man towards woman. Having assumed that
she is incomplete without him, he draws the quite permissible
conclusion that she exists only for the purpose of attaining to
completeness through him -- and that where she does not so attain it,
the unfortunate creature is, for all practical purposes, non-existent. To
him womanhood is summed up in one of its attributes -- wifehood, or
its unlegalized equivalent. Language bears the stamp of the idea that
woman is a wife, actually, or in embryo. To most men -- perhaps to all
-- the girl is some man's wife that is to be; the married woman some
man's wife that is; the widow some man's wife that was; the spinster
some man's wife that should have been -- a damaged article, unfit for
use, unsuitable. Therefore a negligible quantity.
I have convinced myself, by personal observation and inquiry, that my
description of the male attitude in this respect is in no way exaggerated.
It has, for instance, fallen to my lot, over and over again, to discuss
with men -- most of them distinctly above the average in intelligence --
questions affecting the welfare and conditions of women. And over and
over again, after listening to their views for five minutes or so, I have
broken in upon them and pulled them up with the remark that they were
narrowing down the subject under discussion -- that what they were
considering was not the claim of women in general, but the claim of a
particular class -- the class of wives and mothers. I may add that the
remark has invariably been received with an expression of extreme
astonishment. And is it not on record that Henley once dashed across a
manuscript the terse pronouncement, "I take no interest in childless
women"? Comprehensive; and indicating a confusion in the author's
mind between the terms
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