Sophia C. reviewed on + 289 more book reviews
Cunt: a declaration of independence reads like a personal rant. The blurb and reviewer quotes seem to suggest that the history of the word cunt would be explored, but we only have the authors word that she did this research. Instead, in informal language—with ample use of apostrophes to abbreviate words and coined terms such as Lordisa and jilling off—Inga Muscio argues why it is important to value this anatomical jewel that unites all women (What about transgendered women?) in the face of oppression by the patriarchy.
It was difficult to maintain a neutral reading stance in light of Muscios inflammatory language. While I think she had some good points about taking control of ones health, wellness, and safety, especially in the context of opposing rape culture, hers is an angry, judgmental, and vengeful feminism. For example, she calls western medicine that smelly deaf dog who farts across the house and that we just dont have the heart to put out of its misery (p. 58) while advocating massage and herbs to induce abortion lest the rhythm method fails. She gets some factual details on reproduction wrong and does not talk about the pros and cons of the methods she advocates. She claims You can tell Adolph Hitler and George Washington were dickheads just by looking at them (p. 91), and advocates pelting alleged rapists with bloody tampons. Finally, she delights in the opportunity to pound male instructors in a self-protection class, without recognizing that such men most likely respect women and want to help them learn how to protect themselves.
I cannot say that Inga Muscio speaks for me. This was one of those rare books where I took notes to document points where I disagreed with the author in order to make sure I was representing her argument correctly.
It was difficult to maintain a neutral reading stance in light of Muscios inflammatory language. While I think she had some good points about taking control of ones health, wellness, and safety, especially in the context of opposing rape culture, hers is an angry, judgmental, and vengeful feminism. For example, she calls western medicine that smelly deaf dog who farts across the house and that we just dont have the heart to put out of its misery (p. 58) while advocating massage and herbs to induce abortion lest the rhythm method fails. She gets some factual details on reproduction wrong and does not talk about the pros and cons of the methods she advocates. She claims You can tell Adolph Hitler and George Washington were dickheads just by looking at them (p. 91), and advocates pelting alleged rapists with bloody tampons. Finally, she delights in the opportunity to pound male instructors in a self-protection class, without recognizing that such men most likely respect women and want to help them learn how to protect themselves.
I cannot say that Inga Muscio speaks for me. This was one of those rare books where I took notes to document points where I disagreed with the author in order to make sure I was representing her argument correctly.
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