If the personal is political, then Caitlin Moran's assessment of contemporary feminism and where it's going is the most political of the decade. Nothing is too personal in her memoir-manifesto: masturbation, periods, pubic hair, snogs, bras, childbirth and abortion all make it, and emphasise, of course, that being a woman means first and foremost, "the body".
Second-wave feminism attempted to get away from associating women solely with their bodies but in 21st century that isn't going to happen. So Moran goes for it full-throttle. Her observations are funny and revealing; she has a sisterly, almost cosy voice inviting fellow revelations and invoking the "consciousness-raising" epoch of that earlier generation. But is that all it means to be a woman?
Cheeringly, Moran takes on pornography (why can't we see a woman enjoying it?), lap-dancing (men "won't die if they don't have access to a local strip joint"), fashion that flatters only a size eight, but this too addresses only the body issues. She points out a lack of good names for parts of a woman's body, but doesn't examine the hierarchy in language that gives certain words their power over women. Those unused to feminism will have a fun introduction to it here. They just won't learn much.
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