Reflecting on the many omissions of commas and other matters of punctuation in ‘Almost There,’ I read some more of Anne Tyler’s ripping tale ‘A spool of blue thread.’ (Note the quotation mark after the full stop. I have come a long way!)
With so much still to learn, I now seem to read only the punctuations and not the story anymore. I just want to find out how to go about it. The little booklet; My Grammar and I, by Caroline Taggart is most helpful. Actually, I am reading Anne Tyler’s tortuous tale of family upheavals and other disasters, more for the quotation marks than the story. I have enough on my plate just with that.
I mean, what to make of a dangling participle, or modifying clauses? Are my dangling participles showing up as well? As soon I conquer one of those grammarian items another pops up. Give us a break.
Here another bit to pore over from, ‘Almost There.’
Those with good memories would know that, thanks to Germaine Greer, the bra was more and more seen as a fashion article of enslavement, a tool to keep them (breasts) propped up, purely for the sake of looks and salivating males. It went further and it was suggested, they were designed together with girdles and make-up, as a ploy to keep women shackled to the kitchen sink and nappy buckets. It was therefore also suggested to ditch the bra and if a droop resulted, be proud and walk tall. Together with ditching the bra, radical lesbianism was embraced.
I never witnessed any bra burning or rampaging lesbians but do remember going to a party held at a professor of philosophy house who insisted all women hang their bras on the front door knob before allowed in. They all did, and it was one of the more memorable parties in Balmain.
I have been credited in Balmain, still even today, of having lifted the ban, not on bras, but on men not being allowed to babysit. The stranglehold of some women on insisting only women would be allowed to babysit was broken when in all innocence I turned up one evening. A nervous mother made a hurried telephone call to the secretary, and after a while, it was decided I could baby sit. The year was 1973. With my Dutch and Helvi’s heritage I never even thought that it was solely the domain of women in our home countries to sit on babies. Anyway, it was different then in Australia. From the early seventies, 1973 to be precise, men were allowed to babysit at each other’s houses. It was a male revolution on par with bra burning. You can thank Gerard for this!
It was odd that some women felt emancipated by going bra-less and yet thought that it was a bit dodgy for male friends to do some babysitting.
It should be written up in our history books or at least on Wikipedia.