I’ve read books where the main characters, almost ALWAYS females, wish they lived in a past era. I’m reading one now, although she only thinks about it in passing. My cousin gave the book to me because it takes place in Paris, and I love Paris. The woman longs for hoop skirts, bustles and all the trappings. That is not what I would ever wish for.
If I didn’t want to live right now, I would want to live on the Enterprise. I mean who wants to live in the past? Few, if any BOOKS, castles without screens, or central heating, and no Z Paks. What about dentists? Well, maybe everyone died too young to worry about their teeth, the need for glasses/contacts, or broken bones. I suppose leaches and blood letting worked for some. Infections would have killed a LOT of them, of that there is no doubt. I’m talking about a cut on their finger…no antibiotics means no breathing, for the most part. And wearing all that CLOTHES! Dragging those skirts around, while carrying lit candles, those shoes, and wearing things on your head all the time, including a million pins holding up your hair. The character in the book would love to wear a whale bone corset. I’m sure the whales would rather HAVE their bones and what person, in their right mind, would want to be imprisoned in stays so tight that the marks from wearing such a thing, would never leave her body?
And riding in carriages? I want to let the horses go. It’s not at all romantic, it’s animal abuse. When I see one on the street I want to ask the driver if he would like to have blinders over his own stupid eyes and stand still at a curb holding a ton of transportation on his back for hours at a time EVERYDAY. Arggggg.
I’ve never been one to sigh happily over garbage in the streets either. Candles are great for mood but I LOVE electricity, LIGHTBULBS, HEAT and AIR CONDITIONING. I want to get somewhere on a plane, not a two year trek on a poor horse who has to carry me because she’s stronger than I am. I’d know the whole time that the horse was a prisoner, so I would have to walk next to her and tell her that I was sorry and that we should run away and be free. That sounds good but I have absolutely no idea how survive in the wild. If I’m away from stores, I’m completely out of my element and most likely I’d eat a poison mushroom the very first day and that would be it for me. The horse would be okay, however, and I wouldn’t be in THAT lifetime an longer, so it would work well on multiple levels.
I would never, ever, ever, ever want to live in the “wild west.” NOT EVER. I can’t even READ about that time period. No cities, dust everywhere and again, NO CITIES!!!!! I would never make it there. As soon as I was old enough to crawl out of the cabin door I would look for a pool of water to fall into. A sheriff, and the shopkeeper? Seriously? I can barely stand to think about it. Everything is too small and BORING. Too tight, no choices, no books, no art supplies, no cars, or airports, no ANYTHING. Just dust, open plains and work, never ending TOIL, in order to stay alive one more day. No way.
I would always want to live on the Enterprise, where Bones could zap away any illness, set any bone and Kirk could get us out of most messes. If Kirk couldn’t manage it, at least it would be over fast, no languishing in hospitals, or in doctors’ offices. No scrubbing and cleaning bathtubs, doing laundry, or sweeping. That’s the life for me. Fast, furious, healthy, or dead. I don’t want life to be that much work. I want new and exciting things, great conversation, music, clean clothes, toothbrushes, hot showers, crisp sheets, good food, luscious blankets and lots of BOOKS.
I wouldn’t want to visit America when She started but if I did, I would kill all the male pilgrims while on the boat, or right after they carried all the heavy stuff onto land. The Nina, would have been run by the women, after they dumped the male bodies overboard, and the Santa Maria would have been renamed WILD WOMEN. The Pinta would have been turned a cruise ship where everyone danced and ate delicious food. After landing, and cleaning up the rest of the bodies, we would ask the Native American’s for forgiveness for landing on their shores. If they said we couldn’t stay, we would have taken our ships and become pirates, sinking other ships and saving women. We would then drop the women off somewhere nice, like Hawaii, where they could live free. The women would be heavily armed, of course, and only allow males to come ashore for parties, after which they would be disposed of, or allowed to return to their ship. I’m assuming the women’s fleet would constantly be growing and they would make runs to gather food from other mainlands.
Nasty religious white men, are a dangerous and egotistical nightmare. I’d NEVER want to be around them, greedy bastards, burning women at the stake to get their property and power. Telling lies, stealing an entire country and killing it’s residents. I told you this was NOT an accurate progression of history. It’s all true, just not in order. Well, taking over the ships isn’t true, but a girl can dream, can’t she? Sadly, religious white males are still at it, destroying everything they touch and they’re still killing women, they’re still telling lies, still in power and they are still stealing whatever they want.
So yeah, no going back for me, everything back there is filled with men in positions of power, death, plagues, and icky things, except for the Renaissance and Paris in the twenties. But those people weren’t happy they were just trying to get through their daily lives. Michelangelo and Leonardo were trapped by the popes and forced to do things they didn’t want to do. Threats hung over their heads and they had to sneak around and write backwards (how no one figured that one out is way beyond me). Scientists were killed and locked up, so things were not as attractive as they seemed, except for the rich. Again, nothing has changed except that now people know how to read backward writing, or they know to use a mirror, if they don’t. At least in the twenties, the people in Paris, poor as most of them were, were drunk and happy, if cold and hungry.
If I did go back to the twenties, in Paris, I’d want to have tons of money, know the Murphy’s and hang with the crowd. Not Hemingway, his wife, or Gertrude, of course, but pretty much everyone else. Scott and Zelda, Elliot, Joyce, Picasso, et al. Maybe Sylvia Beach would let me help out at Shakespeare and Company for a bit and maybe I’d actually learn how to speak French. But my dreams don’t run backward…they’re always right here, or on the Enterprise. Somewhere farther out, somewhere where where Kirk would be Ms Kirk and men would never, not even for a second, think that they were better, or worth more, than women. I’m so bloody sick of that male supremacy fantasy.
I don’t think I’ll finish reading this book. It has dead animal recipes in it, so that is a big turn off and I have to skip pages and try not to feel bad, or hear the cows screaming in fear and horror. My cousin should have known better. Seriously, she should have. But revenge is sweet. It really is and if you don’t believe in revenge, you don’t know what you’re missing.