Hanging the curtains back up

There were not a lot of successful female writers and academics in the 1970’s. Maybe I underestimate how many there were, but obviously they would have been in the minority. I’m reading a chapter on the anthropologist Mary Douglas who somehow combined raising three children with remaining active in academia. I read a few pages while helping at the Cub Scout camping trip.

In one of her books, Douglas added an apology for professional duties eclipsing domestic ones: ‘All our things have fallen into neglect while I have been writing, floors unpolished, curtains falling off hooks. I am grateful to my family for their patience.’
page 130 of The Slain God by Timothy Larsen

It is irksome to hear this woman apologizing for working
what is essentially two jobs and performing so well at each one. (I wouldn’t want
to put anyone off reading Larsen, who admires her very much.)

I had planned to do this a year ago, but then I ended up
writing papers on artificial intelligence and doing a bunch of related speaking
engagements. (I love it – anyone who wants a speaker on ChatGPT should invite
me out.) Anyway, I’m going to try to do the equivalent of fixing the
“curtains falling off hooks.” The curtains really do fall down. You
could have a well-functioning household and drawers full of clothes that fit
your children… and then if someone is not engaged in constant warfare… it
will all fall apart in about 6 months.