D is for Domesticity. I'm enjoying one of Mr GP's birthday pressies, Perfect Wives in Ideal Homes. If we're talking about feeling old, I feel even older when what was almost the background to my own childhood, (I was born at the tail-end of the 1950s) is related as social history. I guess to children nowadays and even my own offpring, now in their mid and late twenties, the lot of women post-war must seem as much in another age as the events of the late 19th century would have seemed to us. My mother, who would have now been in her nineties had she lived, was similar to that cohort of women, marrying and setting up home in the mid to late fifties. Reading their memoirs, I realise more and more that she, in attempting to juggle career and children, was quite ahead of her time and I can maybe now better appreciate her struggles. At the time, at least when I was younger I rather resented her absences whilst also realising that she needed that space; domesticity wasn't her greatest strength and life would have been even more frustrating than it already was had she not had that outlet for her true skills. As it was, I suspected that she played down her abilities in front of my father and some other family members. But then, from what I'm reading, women were often forced by social pressure to do just that. Here's the publisher's 'blurb:'
In Perfect Wives in Ideal Homes, Virginia Nicholson tells the story of women in the 1950s: a time before the Pill, when divorce spelled scandal and two-piece swimsuits caused mass alarm.Turn the page back to the mid-twentieth century, and discover a world peopled by women with radiant smiles, clean pinafores and gleaming coiffures; a promised land of batch-baking, maraschino cherries and brightly hued plastic. A world where the darker side of the decade encompasses rampant prostitution, a notorious murder, and the threat of nuclear disaster.Perfect Wives in Ideal Homes reconstructs the real 1950s, through the eyes of the women who lived it. Step back in time to where our grandmothers scrubbed their doorsteps, cared for their families, lived, laughed, loved and struggled.This is their story.
I'm wondering about what piece of music would best represent that era and I've plumped on the theme tune for the popular request programme Housewives' Choice.
Sounds like an interesting book; I'll have to check it out. We're about the same age, I was born 1957 :) My mom reluctantly I think went back into the work force, my dad died when I was 18 months old, leaving her behind with 3 young children (and she married late in life for that time, she was 32). She did her best to be home when we got home from school, we were latch key kids sometimes and spent summers alone for a part of the day. Helped make us independent I think :)
ReplyDeletebetty
Yes, it's worth checking out if you can find it. We spent a fair amount of time alone, including part of the holiday times at least once I'd moved to secondary school. No breakfast and after-school clubs in those days! :)
DeleteWhat a delightful blog! I very much enjoyed my visit here, though I must say that I feel very inadequate when it comes to "Domesticity." I am intrigued by the Perfect Wives book, it would be helpful to have a clearer picture of that transitional decade. As much as the '50s have been idealized, it is hard to imagine going back to that era; somehow the apron seems more like a straightjacket than a lacy protective article of clothing. Good luck with the challenge!
ReplyDeleteFrom what I've read so far, it was, metaphorically speaking! Thanks for passing by and I'm pleased that you've enjoyed your visit.
ReplyDeleteMy mammy and daddy raised 8 kids in Roman Catholic Ireland. She had me in the early 70s - she was 41 - I was her last! :) Mam was always working inside or outside the house. When Dad came home from work, he sat. but mam didn't.
ReplyDeleteYes, I think that strict division of roles lingered far beyond the 60s. I can remember that even if my Dad got back home from work first, it was just assumed that she would be the one to cook the meal, however late she arrived back. Though as we grew older, we were able to help out. I can remember that defining moment when the unfairness of it all registered with me. :)
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