Random: How to Be a Lady (Myrtle Mumby)

[nebroadwe]

I was reminded recently how much I enjoy Philip Reeve's Larklight and sequels. Following a link-chain out into the ether, I discovered Miss Myrtle Mumby's advice on how to be a lady, as published in The Orbital Gentleperson & Young Lady’s Companion's Christmas number, December 1851. Miss Mumby, in addition to offering practical advice ("A word of caution: a sensible lady always looks before she swoons. There are some places more suited to swooning than others ..."), delivers a scathing critique of the sad decline in behavior which some persons of her gender display upon leaving atmosphere:

Some young women (one can hardly call them 'ladies') seem to feel that they must be as plucky and resourceful as any man, and when danger threatens they are liable to produce cutlasses and small firearms and set about their assailants in a most un-feminine manner. I am convinced that this is a MISTAKE. Surely, if monsters need to be fought, or disasters averted, we should wait for a gentleman to spring to our assistance. If no gentleman is available, a fellow of the labouring classes will do. And if no help of any kind is forthcoming, why, it would surely be better to be eaten alive or perish in the aether’s boundless deeps than to engage in violent physical activity, with the attendant risk that one may be seen to perspire, or (Heaven Forfend!) expose one’s petticoats to the common gaze.

The remainder of the article may be found here, along with Miss Mumby's brother's introduction to the planets of the solar system for plucky young British chaps. Share and enjoy -- discreetly and with pinkies extended.

Comments

[jordan179.livejournal.com]

Great series! Sort of space travel the way that Jonathan Swift might have envisioned it.

[juxtaposie.livejournal.com]

You know, I'm always forgetting to look before I swoon...

[nebroadwe.livejournal.com]

A bit less biting than Swiftian satire, though, don't you think? Reeve nibbles gently on your toes; Swift takes great chunks from your calf muscles. (Er. So to speak. No doubt Miss Mumby has already defriended my journal.)

[nebroadwe.livejournal.com]

I looked last time, but it didn't do much good: nothing but muddy path anywhere within swooning distance.