By Any Other Name

by Jodi Picoult

him. “Why shouldn’t it be the other way around? Don’t women have the same hopes and fears and urges as men?” “How terrifying to imagine.” He laughed. “To think you lot might be as uncontrollable as we are.”

Emilia understood the true motivation: a play might make its viewers think. And when people thought, instead of blindly following the Gospel, they escaped from your control.

What was it about a woman’s voice that was so terrifying to a man? Was it the thought that a lesser creature might have intelligence or agency? Or was it simpler than that? If she took herself seriously, others might do the same. Other women. Scores of women. And that just might erode the power men had always effortlessly held.

“Thank you. I have never been seduced with a historical text before.” “Clearly,” Jasper said, “you’ve been with the wrong guys.”

“Are you not tired?” Maria asked. “Of struggling?” “All the time,” Emilia admitted. “I think that is what it is to be a woman.”