Writer’s Circle

Oh sometimes my hatred of masculine energy is overwhelming.  Here’s the background to the tale:  out of foolish optimism I joined a writer’s circle; a writer’s circle that includes men. A self-titled “Christian” writer’s circle no less. What was I thinking? I was seduced by a well-meaning friend who assured me that religion would not be an issue. When will I learn?

So the first meeting was yesterday (those of you who read t’other blog will spot the church connection) and it was NOT GOOD.  There were five of us in attendance, one of whom was male. Now, can any of you guess who got the most talk-time, unwarranted praise, ego-rubbing, requests for advice and then neatly dipped out of doing any washing up with the words “can I leave the clean up to you ladies?” ?  I think you can…

He sat there looking smug, reading his frankly atrocious peotry out loud, getting all sorts of hero worship from the other three women in the room. He shuffled his papers when ever anyone spoke about anything but his work. He waffled about how he came to Christ and started writing poetry as a result. He lectured pompously on “working the metaphor” but confused metaphor with simile. He was the only one not to bother writing down anyone else’s suggestions for further reading. He just sat with a knowing, self-satisfied smirk on his face. I could have flung my body over the table and strangled him.  I realise, and not for the first time, that my loathing of machismo and masculine privilege is never going to go away. It will not be stilled by Yoga, Quakerism, anti-depressants and the occasional feminist man.  I can only function well when I am in women’s space.  I believe that my membership of this group will be short lived. And hurrah for that.

~ by pippa71 on February 21, 2007.