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Marietta, OH

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Archives for June 2020

Book Review: Land of Lincoln, by Andrew Ferguson

June 28, 2020 by Margie Clayman Leave a Comment

I’ve been pondering how exactly to review this book because, honestly, I am still pondering whether I enjoyed it or not. Part of the problem is that this book was written to be current, but it was published in 2007. That doesn’t seem like an eternity ago, per se, but a lot has changed in 13 years, obviously! Given the time that has passed, it’s hard to know if all of the experiences narrated in the book are really meaningful at this point, or if things have gotten better or worse.

But let’s back up a little. What is this book meant to convey? The story is really a trip for the author to see if he can get back his love for Lincoln, or to figure out why he lost it. He was a total Lincoln nut when he was a kid, and his family went to Springfield and Kentucky and all of the key Lincoln landmarks. But then around college the author encountered people who told him that Lincoln wasn’t really worth liking that much. Meanwhile, the southern view of Lincoln started to get more attention. “Hey, this guy okayed the destruction of our property and our way of life. What gives?”

So, Ferguson starts traveling to different Lincolnesque places and sites to see if he can unravel the man behind the legend, and along the way get his Lincoln nuttiness back.

The More Things Change, the More They Stay the Same

I have mentioned that this book was written close to two decades ago, but the first chapter, which is about a big fight that erupted over putting a Lincoln statue at the site of the Tredegar Iron Works, turned out to be quite timely indeed. As I read the history of how Monument Avenue was put together, some of those very statues were being pulled down by BLM protestors. The author attended a pro-Lincoln convention and an anti-Lincoln convention in Richmond and found that both groups had their talking points, but no one seemed entirely, authentically enthused.

A Sprinkle of Hypocrisy

Ferguson travels all over the place in this book. He goes to a business workshop in Pennsylvania to see how these two gurus use Lincoln’s 19th century sensibilities to help 21st century business pros. He goes to Santa Claus, Indiana, where there is a mixture of Lincolns and Santa Clauses. He goes to the Lincoln museum in Chicago that he used to love as a kid and he talks about how Disney has been doing a lot of behind the scenes work to help kids get interested in history.

Wherever the author goes though, he seems to have a deprecating thing to say about the Lincoln lovers he encounters. People who love Lincoln seem childish and worth deriding. That’s all well and good. Making money off of a 19th-century icon can garner differing opinions. But there’s one little problem with the constant mockery. The author has written and published a book all about Lincoln. To me at least, the constant poking at everyone he encounters gets old fast. You’re making money off of those folks and what they do, soooo…maybe tone it down a little.

Lincoln’s Footsteps

The last two chapters were my favorites because the author takes his family on a Lincoln pilgrimage, following Lincoln backwards through his life story. They start in Springfield, head over to New Salem, go through the wilds of Indiana (now near Decatur), then they make their way into Kentucky, where they visit the temple housing the alleged Lincoln cabin along with Sinking Spring Farm.

Even here though, the book is darned depressing. Every single site gets criticized. The Lincoln home in Springfield is no longer interactive. There is a mat that marks the path you have to take. The neighborhood that once surrounded the home is gone, and to the author, Springfield seemed like another dying Midwest town. In Decatur the place that marks where the Lincolns lived is barely visible. Etc etc.

Lincoln’s house in Springfield, as I saw it.

My mom and I had the great fortune of visiting Springfield a few years after this book was published. Now, you have to understand that Lincoln is a man I admire greatly despite his many imperfections, and you also have to understand that when I see amazing historical things, I cry. Ergo, I cried through most of my time in Springfield and my mom tried to distance herself from me as much as was seemly. It’s embarrassing traveling with a bawling 30-something, apparently. But I did not see all that much to complain about. Sure, the ranger didn’t know that Lincoln was born on February 12, but nobody is perfect.

It’s true that history is not being preserved here in the US. Mary Lincoln’s childhood home was a car garage for awhile before it was rescued. The Paul Revere home in Boston has a few slabs of original wall left. But you still know you’re standing where these people stood, and with a little imagination, you can transport yourself if you really want to. That’s a big if, I guess.

In short, there were some interesting and funny little snippets in this book, but overall, I think the mission got a little lost, so the reading experience was not entirely enjoyable.

If you’ve read it, let me know what you think!

Filed Under: Book Reviews

The portrayal of the infertile woman in entertainment

June 25, 2020 by Margie Clayman Leave a Comment

Have you seen or heard a description of a woman or a girl that used the word “hysterical”? Perhaps you’ve used the word yourself when speaking to a toddler or…someone else. “God, this is no reason to get hysterical.”

We have the Greeks to thank for the word “hysteria.” Back then, it was thought that when a woman got too emotional it was because her uterus was wandering around, discontented. These Democratic deacons would put nicely scented spices around the woman’s private area to lure the uterus back to its place. And you wonder why women may have been discontented.

The female psyche continues to be an absolute mystery to men, and maybe even amongst women themselves. This is nowhere more apparent than in the portrayal of infertile women in television shows and movies.

The Root of All Evil

The pain and grief a woman experiences when she has a miscarriage or when she is diagnosed as unable to have a child is a red hot grief that most people strive to keep away from as much as possible. Part of this apparent taboo is the LONG history of barrenness, as it was once called, being treated as a sign that God was displeased with you. Professor of Religion Cynthia Chapman writes up a great summary here). While people often like to think that we have evolved over the last 3,000 odd years, our treatment of women who experience infertility in one way or another has hardly manifested in any better way.

Infertility Makes You Crazy

The history of infertile women being cast as absolute psychos in films and shows is surprisingly long. Check out this Refinery29 post for proof of that.

What got me thinking about this is a more recent viewing experience — Dead To Me. I don’t want to give away any spoilers as the show is still pretty new (I only just got to it through all of my pandemic TV binging). Let’s just say that a woman who has suffered several miscarriages is cast as being a character of sympathy KIND OF because she had that experience. It is an excuse for psychotic behavior. At the same time, the show seems to be trying to acknowledge that infertile women do not get the support they need. In an oddly placed dialogue, the character discusses her loss and says, “Oh, it’s nothing,” and it is the other character who corrects her and says, “No, I mean, I think you lost something real.”

In fact, women who miscarry are most often haunted by a sense of guilt and/or shame. The only person who might suffer more is the husband, because of course men are not allowed to express any feelings, especially sad ones. There still is a sentiment in this country that if you are not getting pregnant, you are doing something wrong. A woman on The Biggest Loser awhile back wanted to lose weight because her doctor told her she was too overweight to get pregnant. Women are told that they are too stressed. “As soon as you stop worrying about it it will happen.” Very seldom is there an acknowledgement from other women that this pain exists. By the way, women who do have children may feel guilty talking to a woman who has miscarried. “Does having my kids with me make it seem like I’m rubbing it in her face? Best to stay away.” This leaves the grieving woman alone and feeling isolated.

What can we do about it?

So how can we change up this whole conversation? Well, first, we need to stop looking at infertility as just a female problem. First of all, men can also be infertile, a condition derisively referred to at times as “shooting blanks.” We have to stop discounting male dreams about parenthood. They are just as valid.

Second, we have to stop shaming women and making them feel that if they can’t have children, they should go hide in a grief-stricken corner, away from all of the “regular” people. Yes, women who have miscarried or who have been diagnosed with infertility or who otherwise have experienced loss will grieve. Grief can take all forms, and it’s never comfortable. If grief was comfortable we wouldn’t dread it so much. We need instead to extend support to women. This needs to happen from the doctor offering the diagnosis to support groups to pharmacists to everyone else.

Finally, we have to stop ostracizing women who are suffering in our modes of entertainment. Is it easier to hate a female villain if she has infertility as her rationale? Is she less wholesome? What exactly is the message women are supposed to garner from this trend?

These kinds of messages are the subliminal messaging we are bombarded with every day. It is time to buck the trend and start over.

Image Credit: https://www.flickr.com/photos/185967312@N04/49203622652/in/ via Creative Commons

Filed Under: Musings

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