Having had a basinful of mansplaining yesterday from an ex-colleague I generally like a lot, I was cheered to come across an article on manspreading by Radhika Sanghani. She has some pithy comments to make about the infuriating habit some men have of spreading their legs so wide they squash their (typically female) neighbours on planes, trains and other seating.
Mansplaining and manspreading resonate so well because they are both self-explantory and common. As a girl we are told to be ladylike, to sit up properly and keep out legs together – ie take up less space and not draw attention to our gender. My Dad had an absolute bee in his bonnet about it with me as I had a habit of sitting on the floor.
I had a bee in mine about manspreading when I lived in London and was frequently squashed by akimbo male thighs on the Tube – worse case a spreader on either side. I always assumed the culprits’ idea was to convey they were too well endowed to put their legs together. In yer dreams, buster. Just selfish, oafish, arrogant and aggressive encroachment into others’ space – but I noted not into others who looked big enough to push back.
In short, emphasising proud ownership of male genitalia is viewed in a very different light from allegedly drawing attention to having a vagina – not clamping your knees together – or as Freud would have it, a lack of [proper] genitals.
Which reminds me of a joke a very proper gentleman and former matelot told me in the village pub when I used to frequent it. A small boy and little girl agreed if-you-show-me-yours-I’ll-show-you-mine. Shocked, the lad pointed out the lass’s perceived lack. She replied, pointing to her privates, “With one of these, I can get as many of those [pointing to his] as I like”.
The Persistent Woman 