Gillian Polack's Blog, page 76

Women's History Month - guest post by RJ Barker

RJ Barker's sporadic and eccentric short fiction has appeared in many and various places though as he considers record keeping one the few sins available to man he can't tell you where. RJ is always RJ and never R.J. Apart from when people print it as R.J. and he feels like it would be picky to correct other people's correct grammar to his own incorrectness.

RJ dislikes talking about himself in the third person as is traditional for this sort of thing so let's just dispense with that shall we? I live in Yorkshire with my wonderful (and exceedingly patient) wife, my son, so many books, and a collection of rather bad taxidermy (got something that looks stuffed by a man who's never seen an animal? I am your market). I'm considerably less wise than my years, and when I'm not writing I'm probably indulging myself by being chronically ill because everyone needs a hobby.

I can be found on twitter @dedbutdrmng and am currently represented by Rob Dinsdale of Dinsdale-Imber, (maybe he did something terrible in a past life.) and am putting the finishing touches to my SF novel, 'A Darkness Against the Stars' before it leaves the nest to try and fly by itself.

Anyway, it's traditional I end any bio with my wish to grow antlers and live the exciting life of a professional coatrack to the rich and famous. So I shall.


So.

Margaret of Anjou.

There are so many reasons why I should not be writing about Margaret of Anjou for women's history month. Not a woman, for a start (though I am regularly mistaken for one due to my luxuriant hair, soft voice and elegant hands.) I'm also not a historian(1) and, I think, worse than both of these is the fact I'm from Yorkshire and Ms Of Anjou was a Lancastrian during the Wars of the Roses.

Though, the Lancastrians were based in York, and the Yorkists power base was in the south of England(2). But, let's not complicate things any more than we need, let's get on with it. I will unfurl my banner – 'House of RJ. Short on history. Long on comedic footnotes.'

I came across Ms Of Anjou when I was asked to write a monologue about her for a friend to perform. I was shocked that I didn't know more about her. She should be a huge figure in British history. She is fascinating and kind of difficult not to see as 'a right cow'(3). Though we must be fair to Margaret here and point out that everyone (male and female) at the time was 'a right cow' and given the overall attitude to women of the time being 'a right cow' was probably a prerequisite for getting a bunch of utter, utter bastards to do as they were told.

First, it's important to understand that in the Wars of the Roses (Game of Thrones SPOILER; everyone dies) all of Margaret’s generation lost. Victory was only ever fleeting and won at great cost. But I think there's little question that Ms Of Anjou was the right woman at the right time. Sort of.

I'm not going to go into who was allied to who and who married what and who betrayed who because we would be here for ever. If you must know then pop over to wikipedia. I'll wait here.

Done?

Okay. Now you either know what's coming up anyway or I'm writing for the lazy people who couldn't be bothered fact checking; which, to be quite frank(4), is how I like it. Now, cursory reading of history could make you believe Margaret of Anjou was a power hungry, cruel, woman who slept with those she would find useful and ripped England apart.

I, armed with a bit of pop psychology, a dangerously small amount of knowledge and a definite partisan streak aim to tell you this is tosh! Tosh! I say.

In fact, Margaret of Anjou should be seen in the same way as Boadicea – as a lioness of England(5). Even her aims were similar, in fact, in some ways she's even stronger than Boadicea as a warrior queen was far more acceptable to the Iceni than it was to the Lancastrian or Yorkist aristocracy. This is probably why Margaret of Anjou never got a chariot (OUTRAGE!)

Margaret, was married off to Henry VI at fourteen. Now, unfortunately, Henry was a bit of a simpleton, the War of the Roses Homer Simpson, if you will, and Margaret was more...not Marge Simpson, though it would be pleasing similarlywise. No, she was more like Lisa Simpson.

Oh dear.

No.

That's a really bad analogy. Put that out of your mind. We're not in Egypt here. No marrying close kin.

Strictly cousins only.

What I'm saying is that Margaret was clever. She was well educated and she was born to rule. She would have had no doubt that the throne of England was hers by right and, probably, by the will of God. And she had probably already been fighting for it for years. Imagine being thrown into the cut-throat world of Game of Thrones at fourteen, with no friends. Imagine the strength of mind it takes not to be beaten down when you are seen by society as weak just because of your genitals?

She was strong, born to to rule and wanted to rule. I mean, she headed her letters 'by the queene.' And why else would you marry a man who only thought about donuts?(6) Or maybe, when it came to it, she had something more precious than ambition to protect. (cue dramatic music)

First let's come back to Ms Of Anjou being a 'right cow'. This is from history written by men and even more pertinent to the way Mags is portrayed – history written by the men who won. It's like if I wrote a history of my wife (I have not won), I would of course concentrate on all her astounding and wonderful qualities, but if I were cruel or had an agenda I would concentrate on the fact she is pathologically unable to close a draw.

Seriously, why? It's not hard? I mean, it's what they are designed to do. Just close it.

I'd also probably be at pains to point out what an astounding and great human being I was and that I always close drawers.

Always.

I mean, its a drawer. It's meant to be closed. It makes the furniture look nicer and everything.

But this means we're viewing Margaret through gloat tinted spectacles – and still, it is quite plain that they respected her. She wasn't just a playing piece. This woman roared.

And now, onto some of her cool stuff.

And then some less cool stuff.

But we'll try and stay upbeat in our discussion of destructive civil war where thousands died.

First off, SHE WON. I mean, not in the short term. Or her lifetime. But she did win. Okay, the Yorkists won the battle but their rule was short lived and it was Lancastrian blood that went on to rule eventually. Sort of. Well, maybe it was a pyrrhic victory but that's still a victory, right?

Secondly, She was right. She was the queen, her husband was king and (though it breaks my Yorkshire heart) the Plantagenets were upstarts attempting a populist coup.

Thirdly, she sponsored Queen's College in Oxford and was a patron of learning. I'm very for this.

Fourthly, her enemies called her the She-Wolf.

SHE-WOLF, best superhero ever.

Neither was she as power hungry as she's often portrayed. In fact, she was a relatively quiet, background figure until the Duke of York (backed by the powerful Neville family) took advantage of her husband's mental infirmities for his own purposes. Taking a step back, I sort of suspect that a large parts of Margaret’s actions were not those of a woman desperate to hang on to power, as much as they were of a parent protecting their son. After all, her son was the heir, and an heir does not generally survive an ambitious takeover by a rival faction.

Margaret is often criticised for being unwilling to bend or make treaty and for purchasing the favour of foreign powers in her war. But ask yourself this, she was thrown into the bears' den of the English court at fourteen. Until then she'd been in France at her father's court. She was married to a very weak King and her only real friends, at least at first, were the Suffolks(7) who brokered her marriage. It's very easy in hindsight to say that she should have treated or done this or that but we cannot imagine (or know) how very lonely she must have been. We can't imagine the amount of strength it must have taken to stand up to the other powers in England. And she could not be weak, she just couldn't, her son's life depended on her strength.

She had to stand.

And stand she did. And the Yorkists hated her for it and we still view her through that hate.

Shakespeare, who I reckon was pretty much good Queen Bets' lickspittle, had Margaret of Anjou having an affair with the Duke of Suffolk and CARRYING AROUND HIS HEAD after he died. That's some pretty heavy duty besmirching there. Also, there's no contemporary source for it (I expect to be told I am wrong in the comments). She's also supposed to have dallied with the Duke of Somerset, one of them anyway (there were three.) BUT(8) the idea of her taking a lover just doesn't work. She's having to work with some of the most powerful men in the land, all of whom are at the same time jostling with each other for favour. It seems to me this would be a bad time to cuckold a King or show rather too much favour to any one of them as it would put you in a position the others can use against you.

However, a clever and beautiful women like Margaret would probably have had to play these men off against each other for her favour. And why not?

And let's be fair here. The only thing worse than having your reputation smirched as a powerful 15thc lady was not having a reputation to be smirched.

Have you ever heard of Lady Mildred of Ladder on the Wall? No, mostly because I just made her up but also because she had no reputation to destroy and as such is only a 'was married to Donald Lord of Ladder on The Wall, a man who fell from grace while trying pull himself up the social rung,' in history(9). Mildred was no threat, she was a bit of a milksop to be honest.

But Margaret?

Very much a threat to Plantagenet male power. She was hardline. She did not back down when maybe she should have. I imagine that she could have married her son into the family of the duke of York – BUT(10) – I can't imagine that the Yorkists would have allowed her to stay as close to her son as she had been and remember, she was thrown into the court at fourteen; she must have seen terrible echoes of her own life in marrying off her son. Not to mention the possibility of an 'accident'(11) happening.

Of course, if you cannot bend the end result is inevitable – you break.

In 1471 Margaret of Anjou led(12) her troops toward Wales with her son – the heir to the throne. They joined battle at Tewkesbury and the Yorkist forces were victorious. Margaret’s son was cut down (or executed) in a very similar manner to the way her forces hacked(13) down the Duke of York and his teenage son at the Battle of Wakefield.

Margaret would never be a power again. The loss of her son seemed to break her (as I'm sure it would me). And though the Yorkists were a little kinder to her than she was to York and his son (whose heads she had mounted on the Battlements of York) I am sure she found their mercy patronising. Margaret of Anjou would end her days in poverty at home in Anjou. Back in England her name had been, and would continue to be, mauled.

I think, undeservedly so.

Now, go read some real history about her, not my twaddle.




(Most of this info was gleaned when I wrote a one-woman (less partisan, more accurate) monologue about Margaret of Anjou for 'History's Maid'. If you are interested in having the script performed or getting hold of a copy you can contact them here - http://www.historysmaid.co.uk/ )



1. If you are a historian, and many of my friends are, sorry about this. Really.
2. For shame.
3. Not my words. Really. Honestly. Well, maybe. Anyway, I will come back to this.
4. Frank, not A Frank. Totally different time period.
5. She was French, I hear you say. Shut up, you hear me say.
6. May not be historically accurate.
7. Rich people using their money to gain power, good job that's been put a stop to, right kids?
8. I like big buts and I cannot lie.
9. Sorry.
10. See 8.
11. Pre Sherlock and Great Dane owning groups of kids murder was surprisingly easy to get away with.
12. She LED her troops. See, maybe if she'd had a chariot we'd be living in a different England.
13. This is entirely the right word.

gillpolack @ 2014-03-14T23:53:00

I finished my morning bit of writing, but didn't get back to it later. Learning intervened.

What I'm doing over the next couple of months is refreshing and updating my teaching qualifications. If it all works out, I'll have an ANU certificate at the end and maybe (hopefully) be a Fellow of the HEA. The Fellowship would be extremely handy, and the certificate covers material I've already studied, but not for 16 years.

The real reason for more study (because it's forever since I've done any study, right?) is that the university learning environment has changed so very quickly and radically these last few years that I feel I need a refresher. The university offered their full instruction for early career teachers free, and was happy to include me in the eligible people (they prioritise according to who has most need when the class is too large, but it wasn't too large and so I wasn't bumped off). Today was the overview module, where we worked through understanding the government role and the industry structure and the legal and policy situation.

This is where I sadly discovered that I still enjoy these things. I really like finding ways of doing good jobs within an environment, rather than fighting it. This is why I was recruited by the public service lo, these many years ago and I why I did the advisory bit elsewhere.

No-one expects this understanding of me now, so I'd put it aside (except for occasional days when I read government papers because they're calming) and forgotten how fun it is. It isn't always fun, of course. Some aspects of it are pure nightmare, but I'm afraid I enjoyed it when we were given a list of government agencies that impacted our work. I instantly put together a history (for I used to work in a previous incarnation of one of them) and set out to examine how they impacted various part of the university.

I shouldn't admit to owning this part of my brain. Writing friends have a tendency to look right past me (and not to even ask about my work history) when considering policy and project matters. Writers, as a group, don't see me in this light. I don't know why.

I'm grateful to my new boss for thinking of me and pushing me gently towards the HEA, for my mind is refreshed now and I can go back to the writing quite happily. (and for those friends who didn't realise just how warped my brain was, you have my sympathies.)

Coming up in a few minutes, the next guest for WHM!

gillpolack @ 2014-03-14T10:31:00

I'm finally recovering from the chest infection. It was a really nasty one. I know both of these things because I feel maudlin. This is the kind of day when I should lie beside a fire, reading nineteenth century moral stories for girls, weeping the whole way through.

Instead of doing that, I'm working furiously when I'm at home, and catching up on changes in principles of university teaching when I'm not. Also, I'm running messages, for two fell off the list on Wednesday.

I am, however, drinking hot chocolate. Maudlin has needs, after all.


PS ETA I have no idea why LJ put that heading in. Maybe it's maudlin, too. I have deleted it, for it is not at all related to this post.

Women's History Month - an update on Dr Barry and gendering

My feeling is that we know he was identified as female at birth, but we also know he identified male throughout his adult life. The gender identification was confirmed after his death, which means Barry didn't get a say in it, and yet, Barry's gender was his own. Did he undertake a charade because it was the only way of practising medicine? Or was he just being himself? These questions lead to a much more complex question - how do we understand gender in a society that limited what women could do, but that also had no medical means of gender confirmation? Can we make a simple choice for Barry?

This is a different kind of silencing and terribly important. When historians discuss someone from outside evidence and don't have access to a person's own thoughts, they're working from secondary evidence only. It's lacking in some crucial elements. In this instance, the element is *particularly* crucial - there is more than one possible Barry, given the lack of his own voice. In historian's terms, the evidence is inconclusive.

One thing I must, say, however, is that his presentation as male was so consistent that it was hard to find out his original name. This suggests, to me, that it was important to him. This is why when my friend pointed out the problem, I started drafting this blogpost. Peoples' view of themselves should never be dismissed in favour of a cool piece of data. First formally qualified female doctor in modern medicine, maybe. Or maybe not.

To balance this uncertainty: there were female doctors in the Middle Ages, including one of the most famous researchers of the last thousand years. So Barry can be himself (and respected as himself) and women's history can rejoice in him leading his own life and claim Trotula of Salerno as one of the first professional medical educational leaders in the West. We do not need to silence Barry's life choices to celebrate women's history. We just have to note that Barry's contribution to women's history may well be through his role as a medical practitioner, rather than because of his gender.




*I'm using 'he' throughout this because we don't know, but we do know he presented as male throughout his adult life and also because it gives everyone another way of reading Helen's piece - this is one of those issues where we have to do our own thinking and make up our own minds, there the critical bit of evidence (Barry's view of himself) is missing.

Women's History Month - an update on Dr Barry

James Barry is an interesting person and illustrates just how we assume gender. A friend pointed out that Barry did not identify as female. She's right, all the identifications come from outside. This means, that, in modern terms Barry has quite as much chance of being male as female, but without access to the modern medicine that allows people to confirm this, physically. And Helen's right - her sources state that Barry was female and give evidence. How is it that both of them are right?

My feeling is that we know he was identified as female at birth, but we also know he identified male throughout his adult life. The gender identification was confirmed after his death, which means Barry didn't get a say in it, and yet, Bary's gender was his own. Did he undergo a charade because it was the only way of practising medicine? Or was he just being himself? These questions lead to a much more complex question - how do we understand gender in a society that limited what women could do, but that also had no medical means of gender confirmation? Can we make a simple choice for Barry?

This is a different kind of silencing and terribly important. When historians discuss someone from outside evidence and don't have access to a person's own thoughts, they're working from secondary evidence only. It's lacking in some crucial elements. In this instance, the element is *particularly* crucial - there is more than one possible Barry, given the lack of his own voice. In historian's terms, the evidence is inconclusive.

One thing I must, say, however, is that his presentation as male was so consistent that it was hard to find out his original name. This suggests, to me, that it was important to him. This is why when my friend pointed out the problem, I started drafting this blogpost. Peoples' view of themselves should never be dismissed in favour of a cool piece of data. First formally qualified female doctor in modern medicine, maybe. Or maybe not.

To balance this uncertainty: there were female doctors in the Middle Ages, including one of the most famous researchers of the last thousand years. So Barry can be himself (and respected as himself) and women's history can rejoice in him leading his own life and claim Trotula of Salerno as one of the first professional medical educational leaders in the West. We do not need to silence Barry's life choices to celebrate women's history. We just have to note that Barry's contribution tom women's history may well be through his role as a medical practitioner, rather than because of his gender.




*I'm using 'he' throughout this because we don't know, but we do know he presented as male throughout his adult life and also because it gives everyone another way of reading Helen's piece - this is one of those issues where we have to do our own thinking and make up our own minds, there the critical bit of evidence (Barry's view of himself) is missing.

Women's History Month - guest post by Helen Stubbs

HELEN STUBBS’s stories are dark with pointy edges. She has been published in anthologies and magazines, including Next, Midnight Echo, and Winds of Change. Winner of the Aussiecon Four Short Story Competition, she was also a quarterfinalist in the Amazon Breakthrough Award. Find her @superleni or http://helenstubbs.wordpress.com.


Doctor James Barry

The life and career of Doctor James Miranda Stuart Barry are a brilliant reminder that the dominant ideology of the time can be wrong! In a time when women were denied a career in medicine—they were not permitted to enter universities as medical undergraduates—she gained admittance to Edinburgh University, graduated, and continued on to a long successful career as a surgeon in the army, all the while living under the persona of being a man.

The evidence discovered in 2001 by retired urologist Michael du Preez indicates that James Barry, who appeared in 1809 as he stepped onto a ship to Scotland (with his mother masquerading as his aunt), was the new persona of Margaret Bulkley, a grocer’s daughter born in 1789 in Cork. (Du Preeze, 2012)

Margaret’s father went to prison in 1803 and left her family in debt. Her mother, Mary-Ann Bulkley, wrote to her brother, James Barry, the well-known Irish artist and advocate for women’s education. It is not clear when the plan to educate her as a doctor was developed. Margaret’s uncle died suddenly in 1806 and left money for her education. She went to London and studied with his friends—the physician Edward Fryer gave her lessons, and General Francisco Miranda allowed her use of his large private library. (Pain, 2008.)

General Miranda was a Venezuelan revolutionary and assured Margaret work in Venezuela after she had graduated with her medical degree. However, he was imprisoned in a Spanish jail, so Dr Barry joined the army. Over a 46 year long career she brought in health reforms including better food and sanitation for soldiers, their families and native peoples and prisoners. (Paid, 2008.)

Rachel Holmes, in her biography, describes Dr Barry as ‘a strange figure, short in stature, squeaky of voice and different from his rowdy contemporaries.’ (Herbert, 2002).


For more information about Dr Barry, I recommend the following resources:
‘Dr James Barry (1789–1865): the Edinburgh years,’ HM du Preeze, Journal of Royal College of Physicians Edinburgh, Volume 42, Issue 3, 2012; Pages: 258–65
‘Histories: The ‘male’ military surgeon who wasn’t,’ by Stephanie Pain, New Scientist. Issue 2646, 6th March 2008.
‘Doctor Strange,’ by Roy Herbert, New Scientist. Issue 2346, 8th June 2002.
‘Revealed: Army Surgeon actually a woman,’ Nic Fleming, The Telegraph, 5th Mar, 2008.
‘Scanty Particulars: The life of Dr James Barry,’ by Rachel Holmes, Viking, £14.99, ISBN 0670890995.

gillpolack @ 2014-03-13T13:54:00

I'm finally half-way organised. Memories seem to have stopped invading my day.

Since tomorrow will be broken up, the rest of the day is dedicated to finishing a chapter of the book. Also to tidying and sorting. I don't know how my papers became such a mess, but they are, and until they're sorted I really don't know what else I have to do besides the book and the chapter. This is why I've never moved to using programmes like Scrivener. I can see they're useful, but I have to use a paper brain for advance thinking.

And, in other news, since the designer of my previous userpic is growing up, it's time I ceased embarrassing her publicly. My new picture was taken by one of my Wednesday students, as part of some writing they're doing next week and as part of my teaching resources (now 18,000 photos worth!). I specifically asked for a black swan on Lake Tuggeranong. Why were my students using my camera? I'm training their writing eyes to frame stories just a bit differently.

Women's History Month - guest post by Carrie Vaughn

Carrie Vaughn is the author of the New York Times bestselling series of novels about a werewolf named Kitty, the most recent installment of which is Kitty in the Underworld. Here most recent novel is the superhero story Dreams of the Golden Age. She's written several other contemporary fantasy and young adult novels, as well as upwards of 70 short stories. She's a contributor to the Wild Cards series of shared world superhero books edited by George R. R. Martin and a graduate of the Odyssey Fantasy Writing Workshop. An Air Force brat, she survived her nomadic childhood and managed to put down roots in Boulder, Colorado. Visit her at http://www.carrievaughn.com.



Fighter Aces

Whenever I set out to write about actual, historical kickass women, I've had a really hard time choosing which ones -- there are just so many options! Warriors, politicians, rulers, diplomats, pirates, rebels, spies, assassins -- and fighter aces. That's the topic I landed on recently when I wrote my story, "Raisa Stepanova," included in the anthology Dangerous Women, edited by George R.R. Martin and Gardner Dozois. Here's the real history:

Lilia Litviak and Ekaterina Budanova were fighter pilots for the Soviet Union during World War II, and both flew extensive combat missions in the region of Stalingrad. Each of them claimed around a dozen kills, counting both solo and shared kills -- both are designated fighter aces. One of my favorite stories about Litviak tells of a meeting between her and one of the pilots she shot down. The German ace parachuted to safety, was taken prisoner, and asked to see the pilot who had bested him. When he faced Litviak, a petite woman with pixie-like blond hair, he thought it was a joke, until she described every detail of the dogfight in which she'd beaten him. The German pilot tried to give her his pocket watch out of respect -- she refused the token, because he was the enemy.

Soviet women pilots flew some 30,000 combat missions during the war. An all-woman unit of night bombers earned the nickname "Nachthexen" -- Night Witches -- from their German targets, who learned to be terrified of their low-level sneak attacks.

Litviak and Budanova were friends, and both were killed in action in 1943. While my story isn't about them specifically, it's about women like them -- Raisa, who desperate wants to be a fighter ace, and who kicks a lot of enemy ass on that quest. I wrote my story for Dangerous Women to pay tribute to these pilots, because I think they're amazing, and because I want to tell everyone about them.

It's important to talk about these historical figures, because so many of them have been forgotten by history. When I describe Litviak and her colleagues, people are often surprised -- women fighter aces, in World War II? Why, yes. Knowing about these women, and about all the women who've accomplished so much, make all the arguments that have happened in my lifetime about what women can and can't do, what they should and shouldn't do, seem rather ridiculous. Women have already been doing pretty much everything all along. Our society has just forgotten about it. I'm here to remind you.

An apologia

I underestimated yesterday and so your WHM post is a half day late. I'd exculpate myself and say 'mea culpa' but I'm still Jewish (and besides, if one exculpates oneself then the mea culpa is quite wrong).

How did I underestimate yesterday? I blame the Purim writing. It's almost done. It took longer than it ought to add a few names. By 'a few' I mean 15. This is how many names you and FB friends gave me to put in. Dobby has his own plotline and Conan is somewhat of a barbarian and looks very much like the person who suggested that he had to go in. The hardest to fit into the narrative were Katniss Everdeen and Princess Leia. There are already two prima donna women in the Esther story, and there really wasn't space for a third and a fourth.

In real news, I'm precisely halfway through my book on how fiction writers relate to and use history in their fiction. I'm putting those interviews into wider perspective and it's turning into...something. Not enough bad jokes.

That's the trouble with the more scholarly side of me. I suspect that if anyone asked me for fiction right now, it would have bad jokes in it... I was looking at the Cranky Ladies project and thinking "If they'd asked me, I'd have written about Liquoricia*" and then I thought "Puns!" Also "Medieval paranormal!" It's just as well they didn't ask me. What they did ask was if I was interested in doing a blog post for the book fundraising effort. That's when they discovered their fundraising effort was in Women's History Month. It's good, because it means that more people get to think about history (always good) and about women's history. And it meant I got to write about someone quite special. The post is here: http://fablecroft.com.au/books/cranky-ladies-of-history/cranky-ladies-guest-post-helen-leonard And the book looks really cool.

The trouble with writing a blogpost when one has about 40% of lung capacity is that fragile memories become fractured and one pastes bits together unintentionally. I conflated the first two years of Australia's Women's History Month in that blogpost: I was the one who did all the tech backup that first year, and it was on Blackboard. It was the second year that we did the big global thing and that the amazing and wonderful Trivium Publishing designed us a purpose-built website and etc.

That very first year had its own problems. The well-known feminist activist who really wanted to lead a chat on her subject and said, right up to an hour before, "I'm fine with computers" and an hour before rang me and said "What's a mouse?" The poor lady started panicking when she realised that she was programmed to do something she had no capacity to do, so I sent her to find a young relative with skills and said young relative worked to her dictation and I was on the phone to the participant the whole time to allay her concerns and generally be there, and all was well.

I did site visits all over the place to help give people the tech capacity. That was one of the bribes Helen gave me to get me involved in WHM, you see. "We have so many powerful women whose voices aren't being heard because they can't use these kinds of programmes." I think my women's stuff and my Jewish stuff were for the same reason - I had to teach people so they could follow their dreams. I spent years teaching Jewish kids how to write Purim plays, for instance. That is, however, another story.

I visited Marian Sawer in her home office to walk her through what she needed to know - that was all she needed - she was one of my best experiences. Kate Lundy just needed to ask a few questions, so we never even met up - she's very tech savvy. Possibly one of the most tech savvy of the politicians. I never understood why the previous government didn't take advantage of this, but no doubt there was a deep, internal reason. Eva Cox was someone else who just dealt with whatever techstuff she needed.

My favourite incident of all time was the second year. Three senior government officials did (from the audience's point of view) one of the best live panels we ever had during the online years. Pat Turner offered her office and arranged food and drink and asked if I'd mind actually being there, in case something went wrong. Her tech person assured her it was fine, but I came anyway, for she wanted me to. No-one thought to check firewalls until I got there. The firewalls for certain government departments are absolutely brilliant. This was tested by several people. We could reach the WHM site, but we couldn't use a chatroom. And the session was live chat. And it had begun...

In the end, all we could do was use someone's laptop and get to the site through dial-up (thus avoiding the firewall entirely). I opened a screen for each of the panelists, and typed what they told me to. I suspect that this - and the fine white wine we were drinking - was one of the reasons the panel was so very good. The three panellists sat on the couches and exchanged stories and jokes in between telling me what to type. Much wine was drunk. We were all the kind of women who get amused by this sort of incident, so we were all very merry, and the three women knew each other well, so I just typed and typed and typed. We started very late and we finished very late, and it was a very wonderful evening.

It's odd that a few days ago this part of my life was buried so deeply that I conflated two years. It's odd that now, even though I have book to write and so much else to do, I can't stop writing about it.

The good news is that the current WHM committee has the archives, for I kept all these wonderful chats and most of the email correspondence that went into setting them up. I delivered them just the other day. The bad news is that I still miss Helen. The Evil Gillian news is that I was speaking quite literally about the smallness of my life in the post about her. But I am still that woman who taught the Australian women's movement (select portions thereof) how to use computers and social media to get where they need to be.

My life is a lot bigger than the physical footprint suggests. So, for that matter, is my waistline.





*The lady whose divorce gave the excuse to dismantle the highly functioning Jewish legal system in England. She reminds me of someone in modern politics, actually. Possibly a mining magnate. Liquoricia's life wasn't all glorious, though, despite her once-vast wealth, and she had a miserable death, so I'm mostly sympathetic to her - just not about the Beth Din thing. Think of current female mining magnates as persecuted other, whose sense of entitlement is constantly battling with the reality of being Jewish: that's Liquoricia, I think.

Women's History Month - guest post by Kathleen Cunningham Guler

Let me borrow from Kathleen’s webpage to introduce her:
Kathleen Cunningham Guler is the author of the four-part Macsen’s Treasure series of historical spy thrillers set in fifth century Britain. Her most recent book in the series, A Land Beyond Ravens, won the 2010 Colorado Book Award and the 2010 National Indie Excellence Award, both in the historical fiction category. The series’ other books include Into the Path of Gods, In the Shadow of Dragons and The Anvil Stone. Kathleen has also published numerous articles, essays, short stories, reviews and poems, and is a member of the Historical Novel Society and the International Arthurian Society. While conducting research on her next novel, she is also working on her Masters degree in history. She blogs on research and writing historical fiction at Finding the Story in History.



Warriors, Priestesses, Chieftains—Women of the Ancient Eurasian Steppe

Long ago, strange marauders suddenly appeared on the vast Eurasian steppes and stole some horses from the herds of the nomadic Scythian people. The nomads fought back, defending their property and killing several of the raiders. While inspecting the bodies, the Scythians discovered that the marauders were women. Curious, a group of young Scythian men set out to learn more and found that unlike their own women who spent their days in their wagons doing typical domestic tasks, these strange women rode, hunted, and fought ferociously while wearing the same kind of clothing as men. Many years later, descendants of the Scythian nomads allegedly told this story to the Greek historian Herodotus. They called the women Oeorpata—man-killers—and said the neighboring Sauromatian tribe descended from them. The Greeks called them Amazons.

I came across this tidbit of information while researching the influence of Scythian cultural elements on the ancient Celtic culture of Europe for an upcoming novel set in the fourth century BC. Intrigued, I started to explore the possibilities of incorporating the story of a strong, valiant warrior woman into this book. But were these women real or mythical? And if they were real, can a woman from these ancient times be portrayed realistically without letting the character fall into the ridiculous hyper body-builder harridan often starring in a fantasy novel?

What is known of ancient Eurasian female warriors comes from two sources: classical Greek literature and art, and modern archaeology and anthropology. After Herodotus wrote his “historical” accounts in the fifth century BC, images of Amazons on Greek pottery became so popular that the motif took on its own name: amazonomachy. Most depictions show the women in the garb of nomadic male warriors—caftan, tight trousers, high boots and tall, pointed hats—while battling Greek soldiers or mythological heroes. Numerous tales chronicling the adventures of the Amazons have popped up over the years, placing them everywhere from northern Africa, the Aegean and Turkey to the Caucasus and southern Russia, but no archaeological evidence has determined their actual existence or the time in which they might have lived.

Did Herodotus make up the story? Even if he told the truth, were his descriptions of the Amazons accurate? Despite the lack of direct evidence, clues have emerged from kurgans—burial mounds—ranging geographically from what is now Bulgaria and Romania along the Black Sea to all the way across the steppe country into southern Siberia. From about the eighth century BC until the fourth century AD tribes known as the Saka, Scythian, Sauromatian and Sarmatian peoples roamed the steppes on horseback. Excavations at Pokrovka on the Russia-Kazakhstan border reveal three categories of female graves: 75 percent were designated as hearth-women—those who took care of the basic home—and included mostly functional everyday items, simple jewelry and a bronze mirror that was symbolically cracked to indicate death. The other 25 percent were either priestesses or warriors, some with dual duty as both.

Of the excavations of those women who were designated as warriors, their graves indeed contained weapons, armor and riding gear. Early interpretations leaned towards the notion that the war gear might have belonged to the women’s bodyguards or slaves. However, in the last thirty years this thought is changing as findings in female graves increasingly include bows, arrows, daggers, quivers, harness rings, and symbolic amulets—all clearly indicating warrior status. One further distinguishing object was the bronze mirror that was not cracked, unlike the hearth-woman’s mirror.

Archaeologist Jeannine Davis-Kimball, who has worked extensively in the field, believes that in ancient times girls trained with boys at a very young age and those who showed promise were selected for training as warriors. On horseback the playing field would be much more level for women fighters, though what their role in tactics might have entailed is difficult to gauge. Suggestions include luring the enemy into a chase; meanwhile the men execute the actual battle. Alternatively, they may have defended the herds and the non-fighting women. All appear to have died very young.

The strong continuity of customs and oral traditions of present day female Kazakh and Mongol nomads offers further clues to ancient female warriors. Although their current lifestyles cannot be extrapolated directly back to the actual tribes of the ancient Eurasian steppes, their traditions include keeping track of their tribe’s ancestry and history through singing contests that preserve and narrate their people’s history, considered highly important. Modern-day nomadic Kazakh women are treated rather equitably despite their culture’s patriarchal structure. Boys and girls compete equally in horse races, echoing the ancient practice of warrior selection. On marrying, daughters receive a good share of the family assets as a dowry, part of which is dedicated to decorating the saulke, a tall, pointed hat women wear at weddings and festivals, reflective of the tall pointed headgear illustrated on ancient Greek vases. Davis-Kimball writes, “One such headpiece reported in the last century was so lavishly adorned with silver and gold ornaments that it was said to be worth forty-thousand horses,” horses being their form of currency.

Modern Kazakh women sometimes become chieftains, not due to inheritance or favors, but out of capability. Ancient accounts also echo this female leadership. Widows were known to rule in place of slain leaders until a new chieftain could be chosen. Scythian warriors swore allegiance on a king’s hearth—the hearth was the woman’s domain. Sauromatian and Saka tribes had female advisors. Other tribes dubbed the Sarmatians “woman-ruled” because their women were considered powerful. Did chieftain equal warrior? In most ancient cultures only the most powerful warrior could lead the tribe.

Though textiles have completely disintegrated in most kurgans, burials in regions of permafrost have preserved an array of cloth items belonging to bodies identified as those of priestesses or warrior-priestesses, many of whom appear to have survived into middle or old age. Particularly among the grave goods, distinctive headdresses with magnificent gold and silver decorations—in a tall conical shape—again echo Greek pottery figures from the past and connect with the wedding saulke of the present. In southern Kazakhstan, an enormous kurgan only partially plundered by ancient robbers yielded a fifth century BC find like no other. The body was dressed in boots, trousers, a gold torc (neck ring) and a leather tunic covered with about 2400 arrow-shaped gold plaques. Also found were a large amount of elaborate jewelry, ceremonial spoons, weapons and bronze mirrors (not cracked), and the most striking item, a spectacular conical-shaped headdress more than two feet tall, festooned in lavish gold decorations. Believing they had found a young Saka chieftain, scholars dubbed the body the “Issyk Gold Man.” They reconstructed the figure and clothing, now on display in Astana, Kazakhstan. But the mirrors, ritual objects and especially the headdress all point straight to a very high-ranking priestess or warrior-priestess. Davis-Kimball suggests a new name: the “Issyk Gold Woman.” Clearly this shift in interpretation is significant and continued research appears likely to support it.

Whether the Amazons ever existed remains a mystery. Most scholars think they did not and that Herodotus got it wrong. In all practicality, the oral traditions of the Scythians with whom Herodotus conferred could have become confused and the terminology was applied to any woman warriors, which could explain how the Amazons were said to be in so many locations. Moreover, his contrasting description of Scythian women may not have been correct—he could have simply imposed archetypal Athenian images onto them. Perhaps he used the legend of the Amazons as a commentary to scare or shame Greek women into staying in their humble place. True or not, warrior women did exist in the ancient world, ranging from the Black Sea’s shores to Siberia. Their descendants and surviving artifacts strongly support this.

So…can a warrior woman be portrayed with historical accuracy in a novel? Within reasonable limitations, I think she can be, based on the evidence. Any character, no matter how much we know about her, is given some amount of the author’s imagination and interpretation. In this case, one specific woman cannot necessarily be portrayed with any surety; she would have to be a composite. She would not be the “Amazon” of myth, but a member of one of the real nomadic tribes, perhaps an “Everywoman” of the steppe. Certainly without these strong, courageous women, the ancient Eurasian steppes would have been a decidedly different place. Amazon, Scythian, Sauromatian or by any other name, they deserve to have their story told.