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Leïla Slimani: ‘This book is a mirror to make the elite look reality in the face’ [16 Feb 2020|07:00am]

As her book Sex and Lies appears in English, the bestselling author of Lullaby and face of Macron’s France is emerging as a champion of women’s rights in her native Morocco

• ‘Virginity is an obsession in Morocco’: an extract from Leïla Slimani’s Sex and Lies

Leïla Slimani is running late. She texts to say she’s waiting for her children’s nanny to arrive. Can this be true? Does the writer whose bestselling novel Lullaby features a killer childminder and begins: “The baby is dead”, really have a nanny with whom she is perfectly happy to leave her two young children?

Slimani shrugs off the irony when she arrives, a delicate bird-like figure with huge brown eyes and a perfect mop of caramel corkscrew hair. “I can’t honestly say I think about it. Our nanny’s been with us for years and she’s extraordinary. Besides, there are too many other things to worry about,” she says. “Normally they are at school, but now there are the strikes, which means no school. I’m doing my best but it’s only 10am and already I’m exhausted. Je ne peux plus (I can’t carry on).”

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Difficult Women by Helen Lewis review – clever and generous [16 Feb 2020|07:00am]

An inspiring hymn to the feminists who fought for change illustrates why it pays to be demanding

Helen Lewis begins her book, subtitled “a history of feminism in 11 fights”, with a question. What, she asks, does it mean to be a “difficult woman”? You may not be entirely surprised to hear that I didn’t really need to read on to know the answer to this. Like many, if not most, of my closest friends, I’ve been a difficult woman for more than three decades now. Naturally, then, I find it strange and slightly alarming for a writer to feel she has to plead, as Lewis goes on to do, for understanding in the matter of the “complicated” woman. Surely this should go unsaid. If it’s entirely human to be multifaceted – for some aspects of your personality to be trickier and darker than others – isn’t it also beholden upon you to be sympathetic to such quirks and flaws in other people?

But this is where we are. Twenty-first-century culture has, as Lewis notes, a tendency – you might call it a mania – for disapproving of both contemporary and historical figures on the grounds that aspects of their lives or work are distasteful. Those considered to be too unpalatable are quickly written out of the story (AKA cancelled); others are carefully repackaged, their sharper corners having been, as she puts it, carefully sandblasted. More insidious still is the question of likability. Why do women have to be nice? When I was publicising my book about some female pioneers of the 1950s, I grew used to the moment at literary festivals when someone in a nubbly sweater and unlikely earrings would announce to me in a tight, little voice that, for all their achievements, she simply didn’t like any of the women whose lives I’d spent so long researching. I grew to despise this. I don’t even like the people I love all the time.

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Actress by Anne Enright review – boundless emotional intelligence [16 Feb 2020|09:00am]

Anne Enright’s novel about a daughter unpicking her famous mother’s life is hugely diverting

Anne Enright’s new novel opens with a question: “People ask me, ‘What was she like?’ and I try to figure out if they mean as a normal person: what was she like in her slippers, eating toast and marmalade, or what was she like as a mother, or what she was like as an actress – we did not use the word star.”

The actress is Katherine O’Dell and her daughter, Norah, tells her mother’s story, intertwined with her own. There is another question: why did Katherine go mad? The people who ask, Enright imagines, are fearful: “as though their own mother might turn overnight, like a bottle of milk left out of the fridge”. She reminds us that remembering a mother has its limitations – there will always be a vanishing point beyond which the rest is guesswork. And O’Dell’s story may be further complicated by the possibility that she was at her most real on stage.

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