Jess Phillips and I probably agree on about 95% of the issues. It certainly raises my estimation of her when the worst people on the internet despise her as much as they do. The book is interesting, readable, sometimes funny, and usually pretty well informed.
So why only three stars? Well... I have a deeper unease about this book which I can't put out of my mind. If I start with the Caitlin Moran quote that's prominently displayed, it may become clearer. Caitlin Moran wrote a book entitled "How To Be A Woman" which was also interesting, readable, funny, etc. But it wasn't a book about how to be a woman; it was a book about how to be Caitlin Moran. Huge swathes of women's experiences were not considered in Moran's book, because they weren't important to Moran personally.
The problems with this book, again, start with the title: "Everywoman". I assume that instead of suggesting this is about "every woman" she means "Everywoman" in the sense of being just like you and me, salt of the earth, representative of this here gender that we have. Like Moran's book, Phillips has written a book that is really mostly about herself. It's fine to write a memoir or autobiography. It's more of a problem when you don't seem to know if you're writing a book about yourself or about all women. I do not want any particular woman to set herself up as Everywoman, because firstly it's impossible for one individual to represent the huge diversity that exists within this gender, and secondly every time someone tries it is without fail a white, middle class (which she is, whatever people may say about her accent) professional, able-bodied, cisgender, heterosexual woman.
There's nothing wrong with being all of those things of course. But women who fall outside of that group, even by one category, know that we do not and never will be allowed to represent all women.
Perhaps this is particularly frustrating because I'm sure she considers herself an intersectional feminist, and this is the kind of thing one would hope an intersectional feminist would have thought about. In fact, the further someone is from this set of traits, the less interested JP seems in them. She does pay lip service to PoC sometimes, and she seems to remember that disabled people exist every now and then. LGBTQ people don't get even a token mention until near the end, and let's be honest if she cared that much about us she might have thought twice about all of her cosying up to Julie Burchill, who is an utterly vicious and outspoken transphobe. Even these inclusions feel like maybe they're last minute efforts, chucked in at the suggestion of an editor. She doesn't consider how the combination of more than one kind of marginalisation at once can play into a person's life. This is not me just being picky for pickiness' sake. Phillips cares a great deal about physical and sexual abuse, about the wage gap and career development, about online bullying and so on - but she just doesn't seem to have noticed that all of these issues disproportionately affect women who also belong to other marginalised groups. She writes on and on as though every reader is a cis woman who is frustrated with her husband not doing enough housework and child care, and then towards the end throws in a couple of half hearted sentences about how gay people also exist, and some people aren't of a binary gender. She doesn't mention anyone who is transgender within the binary - Julie Burchill's influence, perhaps?
For me the most blinkered moment in the whole thing was when she asks the reader to think about their dad. When he ate his lunch at work, was he thinking of his children? Of course not! Does the reader hate their dad because he wasn't sufficiently focused on his kids? Of course not! He's your dad! You love him! WHOAH HOLD ON THERE A MINUTE. Has she really not considered that there will be a lot of readers who didn't have a dad in their lives at all, or had a dad who didn't work, or had a dad who cared for them full time, or had two dads, or had a dad who fretted about them all day, or grew up in foster care, or had a dad whom they actually did totally hate? Again this isn't pickiness. You can't write a book that suggests that you represent all of us in our fight against the patriarchy and then actually only speak to the experiences of the ones among us who actually got pretty lucky.
But that is the message throughout the book: Jess Phillips is Just Like Us. I'm wary of people who say that, because the "I'm just like [the collective] you" generally means they are nothing at all like me personally, but at the same time expect that everyone is going to be just like them. I don't particularly care to hear for the 320th time that Jess Phllips thinks I could totally get out there and be an MP, because it's a meaningless statement unless it's addressed to someone the speaker actually knows. Thanks, but I'd actually hate every minute of being an MP, and who gave you the impression that everyone wants your job in the first place?
So what I come away with is this. Jess Phillips is not Everywoman (which is fine) but thinks that she is (which is really not fine at all).