Critic Cal

The other day I enthusiastically embarked on a book by a male theologian popular with some people whose opinions I rate considerably. It took me to the end of the preface to start wondering whether it was too late to cancel the Kindle purchase. Of the 30+ luminaries, mentors, colleagues and assistants mentioned by name as having helped make the book happen, precisely one was female. [1] Now, such cases are hardly rare: I've read plenty of similarly-prefaced books without batting an eyelid, and probably many more where the data would have been on a par had they been available. But for some reason – perhaps because I'd had such high hopes for the author – I just couldn't let this one go. Here was a book which purported to instruct the church, and yet it seemed as though the author was quite content to disregard half the church in the writing of it. Was it even worth my reading? How relevant could it be to me, if I was irrelevant to it ? Meanwhile, Christian feminist Twitt

In an effort to pre-empt all the "yeah, but"s that this sonnet invites, I invented the foot-sonnet... LEAN IN   Are you sitting comfortably? Then lean in. Once upon a time there was a table Where it happens. All the seats were taken While we women were off menstruating, So we waited, brought the drinks and snacks And hovered in our heels and push-up bras Pretending to a winsome cluelessness, While they made laws and wars and wrote out cheques. But we took notes. And when the moment came, We’d take it: nothing beyond sacrifice To prove ourselves as fully man as them: We’d fight, pollute, exclude and brandish choice With laughter, all to gain a seat or two – And after, who knows what we might not do.†  † Sure, many men have led with wisdom and The best of motives; many women feel Empowered in a push-up bra and heels; Our bodies do not warrant being scorned, And nor do acts of service for the sake Of others. Free market economies Have made the poore