The Clan of the Cave Bear (Earth's Children, #1)

by Jean M. Auel

The analgesic properties of willow just dulled the pain and reduced fever.

The difference in the brains of men and women was imposed by nature, and only cemented by culture.

Not only were both sexes essential for procreation, but for day-to-day living; one could not survive for long without the other.

The anxiety they had felt ever since the earthquake had vanished.

If he’d had a concept for it, he would have called it a sense of foreboding, yet tinged with a strange unnerving hope.

Their pent-up emotions, so repressed in everyday life, were released in the uninhibited motion. Tensions drained in a catharsis of freedom, a catharsis that allowed them to accept their restricted existence. In a whirling, jumping, stomping frenzy, the women danced until, near dawn, they dropped, exhausted, and slept where they fell.

The crippled man responded with a gentle hug and felt a glow of warmth and satisfaction he had never felt before.

The girl broke into a smile, reached out and hugged him, then crawled into the lap of the disfigured, misshapen man and snuggled close.

mother had been the mate of the leader before him. If something happened to Broud, or if the woman he mated produced no male offspring, the leadership of the clan would fall to her son, if she had one.

Brun showed more interest than the rest, but he frightened her.

as they saw the girl’s willingness to learn, they not only helped her with the language, they began to teach her those useful skills.

“When did you teach her to call me mother?” “I didn’t teach her that, Iza,”

When she first came to them, she lapsed into her own tongue sometimes without realizing it, but as she learned to communicate more in the way of the Clan, it only came out in her dreams. After a time, it even left her dreams,

Creb was not only relieved, he was overjoyed. In his old age, for the first time in his life, he had come to know the pleasures of a warm and loving family, and the birth of a girl to Iza assured it would remain together.

I’m glad Iza had a girl, he thought. A boy would have given him too much honor. With the man no longer a thorn in his side, Creb enjoyed the pleasures of his hearth more than he ever thought possible. Being the patriarch of his own little family, being responsible for them, providing for them, gave him a sense of manhood he had never experienced. He detected a different kind of respect from the other men and found he had a greater interest in their hunting now that a portion of each fell to him. Before, he was more concerned about the hunt ceremonies; now he had other mouths to feed.

At the onset of menarche, girls were required to spend the duration of their first period away from the clan. If it occurred during the winter, the young woman stayed alone in an area set aside at the rear of the cave but was still required to spend one menstrual period alone in spring. Living alone was both frightening and dangerous for a young, unarmed woman used to the protection and company of the whole clan. It was a trial that marked the passage of girls into womanhood, similar to the male’s trial of making his first kill, but no ceremony marked her return to the fold. And, though the young woman had fire for protection from carnivorous beasts, it was not totally unknown for a woman never to return—her remains usually found later by some hunting or foraging party. The girl’s mother was allowed to visit her once a day to bring her food and reassurance. But if the girl disappeared or was killed, her mother was forbidden to mention it until a minimum number of days had elapsed.

In the physical world, a man was bigger, stronger, far more powerful than a woman, but in the fearful world of unseen forces, the woman was endowed with potentially more power. Men believed that a woman’s smaller, weaker physical form that allowed them to dominate her was a compensating balance and that no woman must ever be allowed to realize her full potential, or the balance would be upset. She was kept from full participation in the spiritual life of the clan to keep her ignorant of the strength the life force gave her.

A woman had to be protected, provided for, and totally dominated, or the delicate balance of physical and spiritual forces would be disrupted and the continuing existence of the life of the Clan destroyed.

It's fascinating the way things have psychologically remained the same in society. The fear of women from men is an ever present cancer in our society perpetually stigmatized by all parties involved.

You must learn to understand with your heart and mind, not your eyes and ears, then you will know. Only you can understand your own totem, no one can tell you how. But when the time comes and you find a sign your totem has left you, put it in your amulet.

Some young men think Durc was brave, but when they get older and wiser, they learn.” “I think I like him because he was different,” Ayla said. “It’s my favorite legend.”

I don’t know why Broud says she is disrespectful, he thought, watching her go. I can’t see anything so wrong with her, except that she is remarkably ugly.

Imagine the reality that she's a gorgeous woman, but the clan see her as different and therefore "ugly". Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and the men in this book are unable to think pasttradition. The tradition of putting women down to stop them from their true potential of overpowering the men.

She didn’t know there was freedom in her step, an unconscious carry-over from roaming the forests and fields; pride in her bearing, from learning a difficult skill and doing it better than someone else; and a growing self-confidence in her mien.

She was one of the Others; a newer, younger breed, more vital, more dynamic, not controlled by hidebound traditions from a brain that was nearly all memory. Her brain followed different paths, her full, high forehead that housed forward-thinking frontal lobes gave her an understanding from a different view. She could accept the new, shape it to her will, forge it into ideas undreamed of by the Clan, and, in nature’s way, her kind was destined to supplant the ancient, dying race.

Ayla was more than a threat to his masculinity, she was a threat to his existence. His hatred of her was the hatred of the old for the new, of the traditional for the innovative, of the dying for the living. Broud’s race was too static, too unchanging. They had reached the peak of their development; there was no more room to grow.

She was already finding ways around it, in answer to a deep need that sought an avenue of expression. And though she tried in every way she could to please the overbearing young man, inwardly she began to rebel.

He felt she had no respect for him. It wasn’t respect for him she had lost, it was fear.

“It makes no difference if he is mean or not, Ayla. He can be as mean as he wants; it’s his right, he’s a man. He can beat you anytime he wants, as hard as he wants. He will be leader someday, Ayla, you must obey him, you must do just as he says, when he says it.

"it's his right, he's a man." Pretty powerful line.

it gave the magician cause to wonder about the power of love having more force than the power of fear, and the theme occupied his thoughts during his meditations for days. Creb softened toward her almost immediately. It had been all he could do to maintain his indifferent aloofness from the beginning.

No one told her it was impossible to rapid-fire two stones from a sling, because it had never been done before, and since no one told her she couldn’t, she taught herself to do it.

The test is not just something hard to do, the test is knowing you can do it. I am grateful you chose me, Great Cave Lion. I hope I will always be worthy of you.”

“Ayla, you take first,” Ebra gestured. She looked around, embarrassed to be the center of attention. “Yes, Ayla take first,” others joined in. The girl looked at Brun. He nodded. She walked forward shyly and reached for a handful of shiny black caviar, then stood up and took a taste. Ebra signaled and everyone dived in and grabbed a share, crowding around the fish happily. They had been spared a tragedy, and in their relief, it felt like a holiday. Ayla walked slowly back to their shelter. She knew she had been honored. Taking small bites, she savored the rich caviar and savored the warm glow of their acceptance. It was a feeling she would never forget.

Broud craved attention, he thrived on it. For him, it was a necessity. Nothing drove him to greater heights of frustration than someone who failed to react to him. It mattered little, in the depths of his being, whether the reaction was positive or negative, but there had to be one. He was sure her indifference was because she had seen him belittled, witnessed his disgrace, had no respect for his authority. He was partly right.

I read the rest from paperback in Europe