Swimming with Women

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Swimming with Women
Towards the end of 1984, I took over as chief of—and the only man in—a small local office of a large county council department. A couple of months later my boss, a misogynist of the first order who was based at County Hall, said to me: “You know, Steve, I don't know how you stand it – stuck out there in that Area Office with all those women.” I can't remember exactly what I said to him at the time. But I do sometimes wish I had spent more of my time swimming with women. Some men may find this strange, for we have many diverse, often conflicting theories and views about the true nature and potential of women. There are some who believe that we men are naturally superior, that this whole Earth is man's dominion (as the etymology itself suggests). According to this view, we and women inhabit two distinct and different realms, and all the important, weighty things happen in ours. Others argue that a simple measure of brain size suggests that women are as intelligent as, maybe even more so than ourselves, although it must be acknowledged that they usually make very different use of their intellectual powers. A few who have specialised in studying their language, their utterances, their behaviour and their culture claim that, despite the obvious physical differences, women can learn to communicate with us – can even, up to a point, be taught to speak our language. Far from all of us are liberals in this. It cannot be denied that, from time to time, there has been exploitation. For instance, one or two have been dragged from their natural environment and taught debasing tricks for our entertainment, and we applaud them as they spin their bodies gracefully through our airy, vertical masculine world. But, mostly, they are left alone and simply admired from afar. When we catch a glimpse of one in the distance, it reminds us of their mystery, and also that their lives are lived along some strange orthogonal that scarcely impacts on our domain. For my part, I believe that there is something truly magical in this other feminine realm. For I have swum with women. And I cannot adequately convey the joy, the sense of grace, the liberation I have experienced in their company. Nor can I describe the sadness, the sense of loss and heaviness that returns when you step back alone into this dry old world of only men.	Up to Contents page Back to Previous poem Take a Jump to?

Towards the end of 1984, I took over as chief of—and the only man in—a small local office of a large county council department. A couple of months later my boss, a misogynist of the first order who was based at County Hall, said to me: “You know, Steve, I don't know how you stand it – stuck out there in that Area Office with all those women.”

I can't remember exactly what I said to him at the time. But I do sometimes wish I had spent more of my time swimming with women. Some men may find this strange, for we have many diverse, often conflicting theories and views about the true nature and potential of women.

There are some who believe that we men are naturally superior, that this whole Earth is man's dominion (as the etymology itself suggests). According to this view, we and women inhabit two distinct and different realms, and all the important, weighty things happen in ours.

Others argue that a simple measure of brain size suggests that women are as intelligent as, maybe even more so than ourselves, although it must be acknowledged that they usually make very different use of their intellectual powers.

A few who have specialised in studying their language, their utterances, their behaviour and their culture claim that, despite the obvious physical differences, women can learn to communicate with us – can even, up to a point, be taught to speak our language.

Far from all of us are liberals in this. It cannot be denied that, from time to time, there has been exploitation. For instance, one or two have been dragged from their natural environment and taught debasing tricks for our entertainment, and we applaud them as they spin their bodies gracefully through our airy, vertical masculine world.

But, mostly, they are left alone and simply admired from afar. When we catch a glimpse of one in the distance, it reminds us of their mystery, and also that their lives are lived along some strange orthogonal that scarcely impacts on our domain.

For my part, I believe that there is something truly magical in this other feminine realm. For I have swum with women. And I cannot adequately convey the joy, the sense of grace, the liberation I have experienced in their company. Nor can I describe the sadness, the sense of loss and heaviness that returns when you step back alone into this dry old world of only men.