Makayla's Canterbury Tales: A too-honest travel journal

Day Twelve: Women

My Cows! 

This was the only thing I heard for the first two hours on our way to Cambridge. You know, Cambridge University, one of the most prestigious schools not only in this country but likely the world. Home to over a hundred Nobel Prize winners and a careful blend of trust fund babies and prodigies ready to discover the secrets of the universe for their entrance exam. 

It was a strange feeling going to a university as a tourist. Not only a tourist, but a university student doing tourist things in front of university students at a prestigious school. It felt like the whole city was asking me to thank it for being in its presence. 

Isaac Newton, King Charles and Stephen Hawking all studied in these hallowed halls … and I was marveling at the idea that people in my generation are studying in the same place. While my classmates and I were taking photos at the buildings that are older than the United States itself, students were walking in and out, giving us glares for being in their way. 

Granted, I would be the exact same way if my school was a tourist destination but it felt like we were constantly in the way. I think that just comes with being an American in the United Kingdom so be prepared if you ever make the jump across the pond. 

Like I have said a few times before, embrace it! When is the next time you get to take a trip like this? 

Despite the dreariness from the weather (a cool and wet twenty degrees colder than my weather app predicted), it was an interesting trip! Each building had its own story and I was able to learn about every single detail. Did you know the embellishments on the walls of churches and older buildings have meaning and sometimes tell a story? I had no clue until our lovely tour guide Frankie explained it to us. 

The most compelling story I learned was attached to the organ in King’s Chapel. The organ was built for King Henry VIII’s second wife, Anne Boleyn. Within the beautiful dark oak that holds up the instrument, there are symbols carved into almost every inch. Bull’s heads are carved to represent Anne “Bull-lyn” because, as it was explained to me, when illiteracy reigned, it was what her name sounded closest to. 

The most jarring carving was posthumously added for Anne. Before walking into the area where the Choir sits, the right hand side of the oak wall shows a woman being hung by her hair, her mouth hanging open in a scream. 

Frankie told us that it was to serve as a warning sign for women to not commit adultery and betray their husbands. I am not sure if you are caught up on British history but Anne did not commit adultery against her husband. See, the only reason she was “tried” for it and eventually killed for it was because her husband wanted a way to be with another woman. 

She and her legacy were punished for the benefit of her husband. In a cathedral where she worshiped. 

For a while after discovering this, I walked in shock that someone could do that to the person they were supposed to be devoted to or to another human being. I found it so sad that this woman’s life was diminished to the wants of a man. 

This feeling only got worse when I visited The Fitzwilliam Museum. 

A wing of the museum was dedicated to how male artists perceived women and after analyzing most of the images, I felt sick. 

Most of the morals or messages the paintings were depicting implied the degradation and fetishization of women. One wall in particular stuck out to me. 

It was a collection of two paintings called Before & After. The first painting, Before, showed a woman trying to dispel the advances of a man in a forest who is leaning into her trying to catch her attention and persuade her. The woman’s face showed dubiousness and unease toward the man. 

The painting below, After, showed the same man and woman with their clothes disheveled and portions of each parties’ genitals peeking out of their clothes. The woman has a pleading expression and the man looks relieved after finally getting his way. It almost seems like the message is if a man keeps incessantly pursuing a woman, he will get his way and both parties will be happy. 

I can only describe what was rage in my body when I saw After. It felt like this woman had everything taken from her and was only seen for her body. It did not help that the other images in the hall depicted basically said that the only thing a woman had of value was her virginity. 

Another set of photos showed nude paintings of women. I could not help myself from thinking about who these women were, the models, and how they ended up in a situation where they had to pose nude for hours, sometimes days on end for men. Did something happen to them during that time? Why did they agree to posing? Did they have a choice to have their forms solidified into a piece of art for millions to see for decades to come? 

I left the museum angry that these women were not recognized, as half of them were unidentified. Their bodies were used to give a male artist recognition for his work. Yes, the work was impressive but the women should be recognized as well if their likenesses are going to sit in distinguished museums. 

If you have not heard Labour by Paris Paloma, I highly recommend it. It really was a good way for me to put how I felt about the exhibit into words. 

I am all for art and creative expression, but recognition for women and supporting their efforts in the arts is also a big deal to me.