I snagged a copy of Betty Friedan's The Feminine Mystique at a thirft store for .50. I picked it up for my mama, who's been an unhappy housewife for about 25 years now. After reading the first 50 pages or so, it became clear to me that it was dated and though a seminal work in the feminist movement, I didn't think it would really hold my mother's interest for that long. I sold the copy to Book Bank.
After reading an essay about Friedan in the New York Times Book Review, I regret having put this book down. According to the article, the woman discussed in Friedan's books "were married to the alienated middle managers...they weren't seeking excitement or a challenge, they were seeking a safe haven". This is what attracted me to giving it to my mother, who basically followed my father around while he pursued his career. She's made numerous remarks to me about regretting not persuing a dance career. She was good enough to be on broadway, offered a part, I believe, but then got pregnant with me and ther rest is history. Now, I admire my mother greatly for sacrificing 25 years of her life to raise 4 children. But, I know that she has regrets, and perhaps there is part of her that has hidden in a safe cacoon of domesticated bliss for a tad longer than she should have. Anyway, this isn't supposed to be an expose on my mother and her life decisions.
The book is probably worth reading, but I'd rather read Camile Paglia, if I"m gonna read anything right now.
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