Soon to be a major Channel 4 series, this novel is Weldon at her funniest, most perceptive, most topical.This is the story of women when they were of that unforgettable blossoming in 70s England of hope, freedom, equality, and sisterhood; and of what happened nextFay Weldons brand-new novel is everything and more that we expect from her a witty and controversial no-holds-barred portrait of four womens attempts and failures to create a new life.Theres the feminist publishing house, founded one balmy evening at sedate No 3, Chalcot Crescent, in a flurry of argument, peace-making and naked dancing.Theres noisy, darlingish, I am the only right-thinking feminist there is. Its all the others who are out of step.And Alice, the academic, the philosopher, the eventually Glastonbury witch.And Nancy, boring, sensible Nancy who is the only one with any business nous.And Stephanie the one who leaves her husband and children to embrace politics, men, other womenTheir stories are intertwined with 20 years of all our lives blissful, rage-filled, treacherous, redemptive. It is a novel, too, about money, power, and definitely Men.
Fay Weldon CBE was an English author, essayist and playwright, whose work has been associated with feminism. In her fiction, Weldon typically portrayed contemporary women who find themselves trapped in oppressive situations caused by the patriarchal structure of British society.
This novel grew on me....and it might be still going at it because I can't stop thinking about it! Oddly enough, when I started reading it, I thought to myself, on noooo here comes the whining (I dislike whining on principle) but I could not have been more wrong. It is not that kind of novel. There are no holy cows here and nothing it sacred. This type of attitude reminded me bit of Iris Murdoch and her The Sacred And The Profane Love Machine, even if her writing style and character/plot development in that one are completely different, I still felt a shared sense of ‘forwardness’ and ‘getting to the point’. Perhaps the easiest way to explain is that both writers seem to be great at making the most out of candidness and directness in their writing.
The novel’s dark humour (who doesn’t like British black humour?) doesn’t even, for a second, imply it gives a darn about political correctness. How refreshing! If I had not kept reading, I would have had missed a lot for this novel really made me think a great deal. The start of this novel might be a bit unpleasant to read, especially if you’re a guy, because there is that 'men are gulity of everything' attitude, but in all frankness, by the time the story ends it is the women who get ridiculed the most, so I think we are the ones who might find it challenging to read. This novel criticizes women a great deal, it focuses on their failure to act in unity, to develop meaningful friendships with one another and quite often shows them in all their fragility.
The plot isn’t the most interesting thing ever written, the beginning was kind of boring, the characters are not studied in detail (I didn’t feel for them at all) AND YET the novel is bloody brilliant. How is that even possible? Well, for start it’s terribly smart. In captures the time periods in question perfectly. The way it describes every decade with such effortless is ingenious. It really captures the feeling of the time, it gets politics, their influence on society and vice versa. This novel shows just how far reaching social change can be. It is incredibly insightful, to the point of being offensive at times. It digs deep, and all that without being pretentious. I’m positive that the author is (as is said of one of her characters) a smart cookie. Plus, I just love her for her honesty.
The characters seemed more like types and symbols to me when I started reading this novel and actually this hasn't changed much by the time I finished it. I mean, there wasn't any deep psychological analysis and intense character development so if that is what you are normally looking for, you won’t be exactly blown away. The characters aren’t exactly likeable and while you might say this makes them more real, I had a feeling we were never really intended to bond closely with them. It is like the author wanted us to look at them objectively so we wouldn’t miss her portrayal of the time period itself (which is perhaps a character in its own right).
My conclusion would be that the portrayal of character is well done, but it is not intimate, which is perhaps for the better. Anyhow, I felt that it is appropriate for this kind of story. The story itself focuses on a group of woman who start the feminist movement by deciding to open a publishing house they call Medusa. Naturally, they’re not the only factors in development of feminism, but each of them plays an important part and that was truly well written. The women of Medusa are often, I think, defined by relationships with one another and there isn’t a lot of warmth in those relationships. This isn’t exactly an emotional journey, so don’t expect it to warm your heart. This novel doesn’t have much touching moments that will make you teary eyed.
What this novel has, however, is balls. Big balls, big time. Now, the thing is, I’m not sure that even the writer herself is fully aware of how incredibly brave it is. To imply that feminism brought the power to employers and basically set the workers’ rights a century back (sudden increase in number of employees meant employers got to call all the shots-again), to imply that feminism caused a lost generation of children, to link feminism with divorce and increase in domestic violence, is certainly a bold move. Surprisingly, this story doesn’t romanticize feminism. Not at all.
Big Girls Don’t Cry shows the gender revolution as a revolution. A bloody revolution, not some lovely step towards the better, but a drastic (if needed change) with many casualties and innocent lives lost. In the end there is no going back. The past is never painted in a positive way either, one gets the impression that before the feminism all women were beaten and molested 24/7 which just isn’t very realistic, is it? Nevertheless, at the same time the novel is so good at portraying the essence of sixties, the complex changes that took place in seventies and eighties one wonders if that is not just something we need to make ourselves believe in order to feel a bit more reassured? I’m not even sure there is any direct message or conclusion to draw from this one and I rather like that. It is like saying, make your own conclusion, I’ve fed you with enough food for the thought. That she certainly did!
What is the proper reading of this one? That the gender movement was necessary even if it ended up creating more chaos that we care to admit? I did certainly have a feeling that the author sees these Medusa women in a positive away, and even while she was criticizing and making fun of them, she was still implying they are a natural step in the evolution of woman.
This is a novel about the development of feminism, yet it is very fair when it comes to showing the downsides of the genre revolution (that aren’t supposed to be mentioned lest one be accused of being a chauvinist). I’m pretty sure one could read this one as a critique of feminism, even if that is not (most likely) what the author has intended. So, is it really a novel about feminism? I’m not sure, but maybe it should be. Because you know what? It feels very complete its complexity. It is a wonderful piece of writing. One that can be read in a number of ways actually. The writer certainly created something quite exceptional with this one. If I had to describe it using a single word it would be- intelligent.
Although Life & Loves of a She-Devil is one of my favorite books, I could not slog through this one by Weldon. Just did not grab me, and actually put me off when a husband is screwing a guest upstairs for all to hear, and no one downstairs says or does anything, including his wife.
The works of British author Fay Weldon concentrate on the lives of women with themes that include: female identity & self-image, revenge, transformation & reinvention, gender inequality, female madness and the vicious relationships between women. While Weldon’s work, full of dark, bitingly wicked humour, obviously fits in any feminist canon, her work can also be considered Transgressive fiction for the way her marvelous characters subvert societal norms. Case in point: Big Girls Don’t Cry–a story of a band of women who form a feminist publishing house. I can’t think of another author who would take this subject to show how the treacherous relationships between women undermine the lives of these characters, and while this is not my favourite Weldon novel, it’s deceptively brilliant, and ultimately an incredible commentary on shifting social times.
"The world envied them, derided them, adored, loathed and pitied them by turns–these women who were larger than life. Layla, Stephanie, Alice, Nancy and company–a small, vivid group of wild livers, free-thinkers, lusters after life, sex and experience, who in the last decades of the century turned the world inside out and upside down. Unable to change themselves, they turned their attention to society, and set about changing that, for good or bad."
Weldon tells us that the women were “described” as feminists, “but they were never quite in step; too far in front to notice what the rest were doing.” The novel begins in 1971 and follows our characters for several decades in an ever-changing Britain. It’s London, and there’s change in the air, and here are two young women in their twenties: Stephanie and Layla pasting up posters with a feminist message.
Stephanie and Layla (carrying a plank under her arm) are about to move on. Stopping to stare at the poster are Kiwi tourists, Nancy and her fascist controlling fiancé, Brian. Brian is expressing contempt for newspaper headlines while the newspaper vendor, a man with a nose eaten by leprosy, looks on. For a moment, Layla, Stephanie, Nancy and Brian face each other on the pavement:
“Could we pass?” asks Layla, politely since Brian and his unbought newspaper bar their way. The noseless man smiles thinly under hideous nostrils.
“Ladies say please,” says Brian.
At which Layla simply turns and swipes him to one side with the end of the plank, turns back, and she and Stephanie move on. Brian knocked against the wall momentarily, recovers quickly.
“Aggressive bitches,” he says.
“You were in their way, Brian,” remarks Nancy, which makes Brian wonder exactly whose side she’s on.
“They must be feminists,” he observes.
“How can you be sure?” she asks.
“They don’t even walk like proper women,” he says.
Nancy ‘gets’ the poster’s message, while Brian is genuinely puzzled by what feminists “want.”
After this scene,the book moves on to a “consciousness-raising” meeting at Stephanie’s house in Chalcot Crescent. The meeting of “five furies in the front room” ends with alliances forged, inter-female betrayal, a marital relationship in the toilet, major rivalries between female characters erupting, and the formation of a feminist press: Medusa. The rest of the book follows the lives, loves and careers of its characters: Stephanie (who later abandons Medusa and joins Menstra magazine), Layla who sleeps with ‘the enemy,’ the very domestic Daffy, “High Priestess,” Alice, poor tragic Zoe destroyed by her passivity, and Zoe’s daughter Saffron, as they move through the decades, shifts in the feminist movement, broken relationships, and the onslaught of AIDS. As the decades pass, our radicals of the 70s discover that they’ve become passé, and sadly, but perhaps appropriately, it’s Zoe, the one who pays the greatest price, who makes the biggest impact, and it’s Saffron who delivers delicious revenge.
Fay Weldon doesn’t shy away from interjecting her thoughts in these pages while presenting a unique perspective on the feminist movement. Her characters, although vivid and alive are more types than intimate character studies, but it’s through these women, these characters who fought against tradition, we see a range of results and prices paid: guilt, regret, loneliness and even a lack of appreciation as the feminist movement marches on and leaves most of our characters in the dust. Weldon’s frequent interjections and social commentary may annoy some readers (not me obviously). Weldon’s pithy, lively social commentary would do wonders in any classroom:
"Children then were grateful to have been born at all; were on the whole uncritical of their upbringing; parents did the best they could in the light of their own natures, it was commonly assumed."
Saffron, the next generation, is the child of the 70s: the product of a woman who wanted to be a feminist and Bullivant, a man terrified that he’d become superfluous in a world in which he couldn’t dominate and bully.
In spite of the book’s light, humorous tone, Weldon asks some serious, difficult questions here while examining the feminist movement in the last few decades of the 20th century. Through these vibrant characters, the story addresses the price paid by the women who ignored convention and fought for alternative lives, and then lived to see the movement become fragmented and morph into something new and different. In another author’s hands, especially in these PC days, I can’t help but think that this story would be one of stellar sisterhood, one of those nasty uplifting novels.
meh...It's not that it was a bad book, because I enjoyed reading it. I guess I would chalk it up to amusing feminism. But I think there are better books worth recommending.
When British writer Fay Weldon launches a satiric attack, she takes no prisoners. At the end of her novels, there are no survivors. Except wit.
Her latest, "Big Girls Don't Cry," an acerbic sendup of the feminist movement, is no exception. Bra-burning veterans are bound to feel unfairly extinguished, but take heart, she leads the chauvinist pigs to the slaughterhouse, too.
The story opens in 1971 at a consciousness-raising meeting for women in a London suburb. Two usual members couldn't make it: One "had to cook tea for her children," the other "doesn't want to upset her father."
Sitting on the living-room floor, they listen to feminist cant from their leader with a mixture of exhilaration, boredom, and incomprehension. They bicker over who should make the snacks. One member wanders upstairs and begins an affair with her host's husband.
They don't seem likely leaders of the feminist revolution. But Weldon wants us to remember that big beginnings are never as tidy as we want to imagine. That evening, in the chaos of squabbles, infidelity, and nude dancing, this little irreconcilable group decides to found Medusa, a publishing house "to specialise in women's classics to record the ideas that shake the world."
It's an audacious goal, severely challenged by conflicting personalities: Alice, their intellectual mother, drifts into lunar worship and tarot-card reading; Layla wants to turn a profit even if it means funding their radical feminist press with money from her male lover; Stephanie accepts whiny manuscripts that no one wants to read. But along the way, with a mixture of battiness, idealism, and pragmatism, they succeed in building an immensely successful publishing house and ushering in a revolutionary social movement.
Unfortunately, though "the Harpies of Medusa" began by proclaiming their dedication to consensus rule, success doesn't keep them from treating each other savagely. At times, it seems as though Hamish, one of the loutish husbands on the outside of this group, was right when he said, "All women are traitors. That's why feminism will never work."
The young women working for "the bra-less harridans of the publishing world" enjoy none of the humane benefits the matriarch was supposed to provide. Their corporate structure is as hierarchical as any male model they've rejected. Their personal lives remain as disheveled and unsatisfying as ever. Love, lust, and maternity won't cooperate with their politically correct orthodoxy.
Just when Weldon's wit starts to sound like fingernails on a blackboard, she relents and reminds us that even in comedy, she's dead serious. At times, the satire falls away entirely, and we're left only with the bleak reality of a suffocating marriage or an abandoned child. "Revolution," she reminds us, "costs the lives of a generation."
In the second half, Weldon widens her attention to include the social and economic forces that inspired this revolution. There were many foes worth fighting - both public and private. Against the generals pursuing a policy of "mutually assured destruction" by placing short-range nuclear weapons among the tightly-packed nations of Europe, the hysterical women of Medusa don't seem to have a monopoly on irrational behavior.
It's tempting to find the zany conclusion unsatisfying because it leaves no answers, but that's the privilege of smart satire. Weldon knows we haven't reached many conclusions about the movement that shook Western culture.
This is an easy read; a particularly good airplane/airport read (you can leave it behind easily without regret when you're finished). It has attracted mixed reviews elsewhere and I can understand why. I'm never quite sure if Weldon is poking fun at radical feminists or trying to seriously deal with some of the conflicts that the "movement" faced. I've certainly read worse books, but I've also enjoyed others far more.
En ret letlæseligt bog. Meget Fay Weldon agtig tænker jeg. Ikke ligeså spændende som en hundjævels bekendelser, men jeg synes hun er god til at skrive feministisk på en humoristisk/ikke alt for selvhøjtidelig måde. Fin nok fortælling men ikke specielt vigtig eller inspirerende eller noget.
This is a story of the beginning of the Women’s movement in London, told by a narrator with hindsight and a wry sense of humor. “A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle”, is their call to action. Five women gather to discuss how they can get ahead in a man’s world, and they leave after deciding to form a publishing company. The novel follows the women for the next several decades, and shows just how difficult it can be to cling to an ideal when life interferes in unexpected ways. The cast of characters is painted with a wide brush, but the story is lively and you never really have time to dislike any particular person for very long. I especially liked the narrator’s wise voice, admitting that some events she is recounting are of course silly in hindsight, but we must humor the people involved and just tell the story. Before the women of today Lean In, they might want to check out the kinds of women who made an idea like that possible.
Citaat : Hoe slimmer het idee, hoe erger de consequenties. Laat de feministes zich verontschuldigen voor de dood van de liefde, verloren kinderen en het aantasten van de positie van de man. Maar wat moest een meisje anders? Iemand moet de wereld hervormen. Je kunt niet zien wat je ziet en niets doen. Review : Sinds 1969 schrijft Fay Weldon (1935) romans zoals The fat woman's joke waarin vrouwen met hun sterke en zwakke kanten getoond worden. Ze maakte er sinds de late jaren tachtig uit vorige eeuw geen geheim van dat het feminisme haar niet langer kan bekoren. Een van de voornaamste redenen hiervan is het feit dat vrouwen mekaar zelf voortdurend onderdrukken omdat ze volgens haar net zo machtsgeil zijn als mannen.
In Grote Vrouwen zet ze al de feiten die het feminisme zo onaantrekkelijk voor haar maken keurig op een rijtje. En je moet toegeven dat mensen die de interne keuken totaal niet kennen hier met afschuw kennis zullen van nemen. Ze kan het ook niet nalaten lesbianisme surrogaatseks te noemen en homo's die het feminisme steunden aan aids te laten tenonder gaan. Anderzijds is ze ook zo fair om de noodzaak van het feminisme toen en nu onder ogen te zien, alleen had het volgens haar allemaal anders gekunnen. Toch kan ook zij niet direct een alternatief aanreiken.
In Grote vrouwen treffen we vier vrouwen in Londen die, gegrepen door de koorts van de tweede feministische golf op het eind van de jaren zestig, een feministische uitgeverij willen opzetten. Door onderlinge vetes en de machtswellust van één van de vrouwen gaat dit project dat met veel ijver tot een bloeiende zaak was uitgegroeid, tenonder. De vrouwen zoeken een veilig onderkomen bij vijand nummer één: De Man. De hele zaak wordt uitgekocht door een krantenmagnaat. De persoon achter de hele verkoop is een dame van de nieuwe generatie die nog een eitje te pellen heeft met de feministes.
Fay Weldon heeft met deze wrange satire andermaal bewezen dat ze met taal en stijl kan goochelen en humor voor diverse smaken kan hanteren. Om Grote Vrouwen kan je boos worden, schaterlachen of er ernstig over nadenken.
I have read "Big Girls Don't Cry" in Albanian published under the title "Vajzat e rritura nuk qajnë" by the publishing house "Botimet Pegi". The novel deals with themes of feminism, ambition, and friendship among it's main characters i.e. Stephanie, Layla, Alice, and Zoe. Stephanie is a housewife who is unhappy with her marriage and her life. Layla is a wealthy heiress who is passionate about feminism. Alice is an academic who is interested in the occult. Zoe is a struggling writer who is trying to find her voice.
The novel is a witty and insightful look at the women's movement in the 1970s. It is also a moving story about friendship, betrayal, and self-discovery.
Some of the things that I liked about the novel:
The characters are complex and well-developed. The narrative style is quite insightful. The best take away is the amazing change in the life of women nowadays, compared to some years ago and how fast that is continuing to change.
Here are some of the things that I didn't like about the novel:
The novel can be a bit slow at times. The ending is a bit abrupt.
I would recommend it to anyone who is interested in reading about the women's movement in the 1970s.
"Big Girls Don't Cry"is an exploration of relationships and societal expectations. Fay Weldon's characters are vividly portrayed, each grappling with their own challenges and triumphs. I appreciated the depth of character development, especially in how the protagonists navigate the complexities of modern relationships. However, the pacing did leave something to be desired; there were moments where the narrative seemed to lag, and the plot occasionally followed predictable trajectories.
Weldon's writing style is both engaging and thought-provoking. Her insightful commentary on modern womanhood resonates, offering readers a nuanced perspective. The dialogue is sharp, and the author skillfully weaves together the intertwining lives of the characters. Despite some predictability, the novel succeeds in delivering moments of genuine emotional impact.
In essence, "Big Girls Don't Cry" is a commendable exploration of love and life, with well-crafted characters and a writing style that invites reflection. While the pacing may deter some readers, the book remains a worthwhile read for those interested in dissecting the intricacies of relationships and challenging societal norms.
I really wanted to like this. I don’t know if this book put me in a reading slump, or just the fact that I came home for thanksgiving break. Probably both. I liked the beginning where things were starting to happen and the men were so god awful, then I feel like I got bored. I wasn’t really invested with any of the characters which was sad, but I guess women are complicated and flawed. But the men were really not that. They just sucked
Was simply written therefore was easy to read. Enjoyed most of the plot but some of the character development was strange and did not seem in line with other developments. Some of the "drama" was difficult to follow.
Anfang der siebziger Jahre gründen vier Frauen, die unterschiedlicher kaum sein könnten, einen feministischen Verlag, Medusa. Er wird ein Erfolg, doch im Laufe der Zeit treten die unterschiedlichen Charaktäre der Frauen immer stärker hervor. Aus dem ursprünglich gemeinsamen Ziel, Frauen aus ihrer Unmündigkeit und ihrer benachteiligten Situation herauszuhelfen, die Unterdrückung der Frau zu beseitigen, werden Grabenkämpfe gegeneinander. Der Roman begleitet die Vier und ihren Verlag bis zum Ende des letzten Jahrtausends. Besonders eindrücklich bleiben die ersten beiden Teile des Buches im Gedächtnis haften, die etwas mehr als die Hälfte ausmachen: der Beginn in den siebziger Jahren. Weldon schildert detailgetreu die damalige Stimmung, das Zusammenleben von Mann und Frau, die gesellschaftlichen Verhältnisse - man kann kaum glauben, dass all dies sich vor kaum 40 Jahren ereignet hat. Der Klappentext bringt es auf den Punkt: 'Mit bösem Humor und Eleganz geht sie den Dingen auf den Grund und führt uns zurück in die Zeit der ersten Frauengruppen, der unendlichen Diskussionen und der ewiggleichen Sorgen, Ängste und Liebesgeschichten.'