Upplands 855 “inki-… [a]uk : iuker [:] þau : litu : raisa * stain : þina : a[t] * ais[t *] sun * sin : ernfastr * auk * þaiR * (b)ryþr * raist[u] * at * bru… …” “Inge-… och Jogard de läto resa denna sten efter Est, sin son. Ärnfast och bröderna reste (den) efter sin broder.” “Ingi-… and Jógerðr, they had this stone raised in memory of Eistr, their son; Ernfastr and his brothers raised in memory of their brother.”
Men Explain Things to Me by Rebecca Solnit is a collection of essays and articles about the interactions between the sexes. The headline essay collected the thoughts into a coherent whole that turned into an understanding of what we now know as mansplaining, although the author did not use that portmanteau and does not support its use.
In the title essay she takes care to distinguish explanations from knowledgeable people from those who are lacking but speaking with confidence. The trouble is that many people cannot tell the difference, especially if the subject matter is not one they know about.
There is, also, an assumption by some men that women know little, which breeds an unwarranted confidence in their own belief that they know more, thus their explanations will, in their eyes, carry more weight with an audience of women. And the depressing thing is that they often get away with it, boosting their own misplaced confidence and appearing knowledgeable in the eyes of their interlocutors. A mansplain not identified as such.
This is a difficult line to walk – to really know a subject requires talking about it and making mistakes while doing so, and for those mistakes to be challenged by those who really do know more. Squashing that ability to make mistakes altogether does nothing to improve the knowledge in society as a whole. Indeed, experts often disagree with each other, even putting aside the explaining of novices, and that might seem to have some of these characteristics. I find myself talking sometimes about subjects on which I am an expert in non-expert ways, often because I know that those I am talking to do not have the depth of expertise to understand. Or is it that I believe they do not have that expertise?
There are a number of other essays included with the book – these are largely ‘feminist’ in content, talking about the disparity, or downright brutality, between men and women in society and history and sexual violence.
There is a common theme to these essays, that the problems are societal rather than individual. That there are men in control of the narrative who will portray each rape, each spousal assault, each selection of a man over a woman for promotion, as an isolated act, something to be considered on its own. While the way the problems add up shows a different pattern. It reminds me of the meta-analysis that showed an overall effect where each study on its own could not declare a conclusion, no-effect was within the error bars.
We are inured to the erasure of the female point of view through history, a lot of which was instigated, then written, by men, with women, until recently, rarely given the opportunities to learn, then write their stories. Our world is all the richer for those stories, for the ability to have conversations about these disparities, for the involvement of all participants. As is often the case, the smaller voices have the most interesting things to say, the art of conversation is to listen more and talk less.
Further, equality in marriage sits uncomfortably with the misogynist world view, where the woman subsumes to the marriage, becomes a bit player, keeping house, making babies. Same sex relationships do not present such a dynamic, the members being peers, there is not one above the other. The goal posts should have moved by now, equality in same sex marriage is not a threat, it is an opportunity to see your spouse as your peer.
This book contains some writing that many would consider feminist, it gives a voice to some who would otherwise have remained silent, but it is very clearly not an anti-male book, she appreciates explanations by genuine experts and conversations with men. It is more an argument in favour of us all being peers and approaching the conversation, the relationships, the writing of history, based on that equal footing.
Not all men, but it is always a man.
Postscript: I realised after writing the above that I had ‘othered’ the perpetrators of male explanation. I don’t think that is entirely fair, since I know that I have done this in the past, and I’m sure will still do it on occasion. I must take some responsibility for my part in the phenomenon.
Please, if you notice me taking that kind of tone, bring me back to reality – give my curiosity something to find out about and I’ll soon engage the ears and disengage mouth.
Outside the church at Västeråker are a couple of rune stones. Then a few more across the countryside nearby.
Upplands 847: “Åsger och Gislög lät resa denna sten efter sina två söner, Ådjärv och Slode. Åsmund högg rätta runor för den som skall tyda. Åsmund … ristade.”
Upplands 846: “Jovurfast, …-fast, Vigunn, de lät [rista] dessa [runor] efter sin fader, Åse, Kättilbjörn, Ger, efter sin svärfar, … efter sin man.”
We took another trip to Gamla Uppsala. This time just before Walpurgis Night so there was a big bonfire being built – Uppsala is one of the main centres for the Walpurgis celebrations in Sweden.
Just down the road from Mörby borgruin is an ancient gravefield. “This cemetery consists of 125 graves and dates from the late Iron Age (500-1100AD). The people who buried their dead here lived at a settlement situated somewhere close to the cemetery”
This book follows a tour, north to south, of the railway lines of Britain, taking the train to the end of sixteen train lines and exploring what he finds at each.
In each case he describes the journey, the train and some of the characters he encounters on it, the scenery through which it travels and sometimes some of the history that made the line what it is today.
Once he arrives, he explores the place he alights in, often a forgotten town of some kind, somewhere that doesn’t seem like a destination. There are a number of liminal places, where land meets sea, tracks cannot continue.
Each of the lines he rides has its own character, not only from the landscape through which it travels, but from the people it carries, staff and passengers. He records some of the overheard conversations, little peeks into the lives of strangers.
There are a number of highlights, he joins a trainful of goths heading across the moors to the Whitby festival and a townful of vikings. His description of his traversal of the desert of Dungeness almost, but not quite, captures a dismal post nuclear wasteland, spoiled only by timing his narrow gauge visit in the height of summer, when there were plenty of day visitors. Memories of family visits to Camber Sands from my own childhood abound.
This is the kind of book I could have/should have written, riding to the ends of the rails myself many times, just to see what was there, although most of my adventures were on city subway systems. Tokyo provided abundant opportunities for this kind of exploration, and, if you are feeling particularly enthusiastic, you can find my livejournal entries imported into the early days of this blog – let me know if you find a good entry, I didn’t find anything particularly relevant in my cursory search.
Of course I didn’t write these adventures up very well at the time and there is now no way to reconstitute them from their hazy memories. Next time I impulsively move to another country I’ll do a better job.
A book for those who want to explore the rail network without the hassle of tickets and timetables, or actually going anywhere.