I insist. Women don’t know how to write. How many times over the centuries have these words been heard. Because writing and reading was only within the reach of a few, basically men. This old privilege of status and sex has been democratizing, first for them, everything is said. They, meanwhile, sewed locked up in their gynaeceums, which we always knew a lot about, all of them, nobles and commoners. And although we are talking about history, at least in our latitudes, it is not as much as it seems. Because the past marks.
The Open University of Catalonia shared a revealing report this week. First, I remembered some data: in 2021 only 27.1% of literary creation was signed by women, and that, according to the Ministry of Culture, they dedicate 69.6% of their free time to reading, ten points per On top of them. Therefore: they read more but write less. Instilled and inherited passivity continues to take its toll. And, logically, masculine thought is much more diffused and apprehended.
The UOC’s analysis speaks of a lack of references, of stereotypes that persist regarding gender roles and of inequality in literary prizes. Some examples: 112 men have won the Nobel Prize for Literature for sixteen women. With Cervantes the same thing happens: 41 men for six women. El Planeta: 52 men for 17 women, without forgetting the controversy of the last award, granted to a woman, Carmen Mola, who turned out to be three men. Another case: all the winners in the last Nit de Santa Llúcia were men. And so we begin another year. A year that has already put its first foot in the warm waters of the summer sea with news that has pleasantly surprised: Six women have won all the categories of the Llibreter award.
The holidays begin and next to the bathing suit a book is not usually missing. If you allow me some recommendation of those published this year: another reissue of a classic, A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf (Editorial Alma), beautifully illustrated by Gala Pont. The British claimed in 1929 a space for women to write in a world, also the literary world, dominated by men.
Another reading: What do we do with Lolita? (Bastet Arte y Cultura) by Laura Freixas, not even to reflect on a question that she points out: in these times of cancellation culture for certain things, why is the description that a Nobel Prize winner like Pablo Neruda wrote not categorically reproached of the rape that he himself carried out. And because it is necessary to talk about the aggressions suffered by women, it is to applaud the literature that is breaking this taboo, giving voice to the victim. One of the latest examples is Vista Chinesa. Now, and since we are on vacation, let us all dare to write, in addition to reading, not even four lines, to contribute in some way to reversing that historical heritage that still limits us.
