Monday-No-More No. 2: Shining A Contemporary Light on Historical Women

Hm. Maybe I should publish this on Tuesdays, since 1) I never seem to be able to publish on Monday, anyway, and 2) it makes more sense, title-wise.

I have a few posts in the pipeline, thanks to James Vincent McMorrow's fantastic concert at Union Transfer and a spate of fantastic podcasts (which are my current media drug, since Lent has taken Netflix and Hulu away from me). So bear with me.

In the meantime, behold, the links for the week! This week's theme: historical-turned-contemporary females heroes - women throughout history who made a difference in their time, and are now being recognized and lauded through a contemporary lens.

Drexel University College of Medicine Archives and Special Collections / via

1. The picture that started it all:
"Meet the Three Female Medical Students Who Destroyed Gender Norms A Century Ago," by Malika Rao

I was always fond of photography as a medium of art, but strangely enough, never gave much thought to it in terms of historical documentation. Perhaps it's because photographs can be easily manipulated, or that many photos used in historical documents are not particularly beautiful. When I see photographs in a museum, I am forever analyzing the individual elements - location, expressions, clothes - rather than taking the moment as a whole. I take photos at face value; a snapshot of time representative of what the exhibition intends us to perceive. Rarely does a photo inspire me to delve more deeply into the story. When I heard that Tumblrs of historical pictures were really popular, my first reaction was, "That's a thing?" followed quickly by "Who would follow these things?"

This picture proves me absolutely wrong.

Even at first glance, this is an unusual photograph. Just the fact that these three women of vastly different ethnicities are in the same room, in the same picture, is mind-blowing. How often would you find women from India, Syria, and Japan in the same photograph today? But then your eye takes in the time-yellowed sepia, and drops to the caption: Dr. Joshee. Dr. Okami. Dr. Islambooly. Drexel College of Medicine. 1885.

As the article points out, this was a time when women could not vote and were discouraged from pursuing education, a time where mental illnesses and even normal female behaviors were attributed solely to their more fragile nervous systems and their uteruses through the grossly insulting term, 'hysteria'. And yet these women, minorities by both ethnicity and gender, found a way to overcome distance, prejudice, and social norms to obtain educations by which they could aid their countrywomen.

This article demands to be read, and encourages further follow-up on behalf of the viewer. It struck me on several levels. For one, I live in Philadelphia; I would love to see this photograph in person, and dig further into the stories of the women in the picture. Also, having graduated from a medical school that was the last in the country to accept women, I am incredibly grateful for these women, and for the Women's Medical College of Pennsylvania, for having paved my way centuries before. The field of medicine for women is still bumpy in places, but it is nothing resembling the landscape before. Additionally, one of the small inspirational things that kept me doggedly climbing onwards during undergrad and medical school was a Japanese female doctor on a historical-based show, a character whose strength overcame discrimination and tragedy to help those in need (points if you can guess who). To think that she was not merely a ghost of imagination, but someone who possessed a name, a life, a spirit and determination - and in living, impressed herself into history itself - condenses my once imaginary handhold into something true, encouraging, and overwhelming real.

2. Stuff You Missed in History Class, "Elizabeth Blackwell"

via

Another inspirational female physician, Elizabeth Blackwell, is the focus of this fantastic podcast. She's particularly interesting because she seems to have stumbled into a career medicine by arbitrary coincidence:

• - she "hated everything connected with the body," but reluctantly considered studying medicine because of a suggestion from a dying friend;
• - she needed another outlet for her intellectual restlessness;
• - she wanted to remain unmarried and independent, and medicine was a socially acceptable way to accomplish this;
• - her acceptance to medical school was mostly because the students voting on her admission thought the whole thing was a joke. 

She was an incredibly unique and driven woman, an early feminist. She came from a poor family and was very much self-made; she fought for social reform in many areas, and thought of her pursuit of medicine despite rejection and insults as "a moral crusade"; she eloquently talked her way into the reproductive medicine course, for which her mind was thought to be too delicate; and eventually studied in Paris at La Maternité.

Basically, she's my role model.

Her family, her background, and her influence on medicine in New York - it's all very interesting, and covered at an entertaining pace by Tracy Wilson and Holly Frey.

3. The Spy Who Loved: The Secrets and Lives of Christine Granville, by Clare Mulley

getty images / via

This book shines light on the fascinating, complex, and unforgivably time-obscured life of Christine Granville, a British spy in WWII who fearlessly dodged her way past bullets, skied into Nazi-occupied territories as a courier, and rescued many of her fellow spies. She was renown for her bravery and her willingness to help the allied cause, as well as her string of lovers; she was potentially the model for Vesper Lynd, who happens to be my favorite Bond character. I've only read the first couple of chapters of this book, but I can say that Clare Mulley does a great job elucidating the mysterious life and opaque motivations of this incredible woman who was ahead of her time. I'm really not sure why her life hasn't been made into a movie yet.

Also, her name is Christine; and I am compelled to mention how grateful I am to be able to add a name to the short, short list of memorable Christines in culture and literature, which includes only a lovely but passive, naive opera singer and a psychotic killer car. (Thanks, creatives of the world.)

More information: the Daily Beast's book review

4. A Scandal in Belgravia, Sherlock Season 2

Speaking of forward-thinking women ahead of their time, is there any female character in literature more respected and held in awe than The Woman, Irene Adler? When Sherlock Holmes gives you a seal of approval - hell, if he even registers your existence and intelligence - you know you've made it. While the story of the original Adler, the only woman to outwit and impress Holmes and the only good thing to ever come out of New Jersey (kidding!), remains fresh and worth reading even now, I actually prefer Steven Moffat's updated version of the story. This episode is a great lesson to all those intrepid screenwriters and filmmakers out there on how to properly reinterpret a story ages old through a contemporary lens (Sorry, Guy Ritchie).

Yes, to the benefit or the detriment of the story, the great Irene Adler has been translated to the present as a dominatrix. Generally, I'm underwhelmed by culture's attempt to reinterpret feminism and re-appropriate female objectification through aggressive and excessive displays of sexuality (that's another blog post). But even I think this interpretation works in this case.

For one, it's not that far of a leap; female performers in the past were not considered much more highly than prostitutes. Secondly, Moffat uses her profession, and the people she interacts with, to up the stakes from the original story. Additionally, the dichotomy between Holmes' learned coldness and precise demeanor and Adler's bold sexuality and mischievous intelligence makes for intriguing, enlightening conflict and really great TV. And Lara Pulver is amazing, as is Benedict Cumberbatch, so I'll basically forgive them for anything. In the end, it's a fabulous study of two complex characters, a showcase for fantastic acting, and a tightly-built, worthwhile story.

5. "Love Letters from Helen of Troy" by Elizabeth Hewer
"Helen of Troy Does Countertop Dancing" by Margaret Atwood

And speaking of reinterpretations, I don't think there has ever been anyone quite as reincarnated in modern light as Helen of Troy. Simply a weak, careless, and beautiful woman passively passed around like a cereal box prize in the original myths, she's been given actual depth and private motivations in modern reinterpretations. I love explorations of female characters previously defined only by their beauty and gender, which apparently was enough for male gazes of writers from antiquity to present (see MPDG). Helen of Troy is a particular favorite of mine; I haven't had a chance to read CS Lewis' incomplete take on the myth in "After Ten Years," but I do particularly love Margaret Atwood's cynical and blazing Helen, and the simple strength and life that pulses through "Love Letters from Helen of Troy" - those last lines - chills, just chills.

(I also secretly love the fact that they're in poem form, which seems like a giant middle finger in the direction of Homer and the ancient bards.)


Go forth and conquer your week!