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A Wheel Within A Wheel, Frances E Willard (1895)
Fleming H Revel 1 55707 449 7 Paberback 75pp republished by Applewood
Books
How a 53-year-old American suffragette learned to ride a bicycle
against her own, and societies expectations, on the eve of
the twentieth century

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The idea today that learning to ride a bicycle is an improbable challenge
even for those in advanced middle aged is hard to appreciate.
In this modest tome, however, Williard explains, in near pedal-by-pedal
detail how she accomplished the task, over three months, practicing
for quarter of an hour a day.
She clearly intended the book to serve as an inspiration to other women
to follow her wheels: for their health; for the adventure cycling brings;
and, for the joy of mastering a difficult process. At this distance, however,
much more is evident from her words.
Womens clothing was clearly an issue she described the
impracticality of crinoline, hoops and restrictive corsets; as well as
itemising her own cycling uniform, a simple, modest suit, to which
no person of common sense could take exception.
There was prejudice, too. Many men, according to Willard, clearly thought
that acquiring the skill of cycling was beyond the mental and physical
wit of a woman. Her satisfaction as dispelling such ideas particularly
given her age is considerable.
This is not a shrill polemic that finds men responsible for all the
worlds woes, however. More than anything, it is a paean in praise
of pedalpushing. Consider the inherent democracy of cycling, for example:
Happily there is now another locomotive contrivance which is no
flatterer, and which peasant and prince must master if they do this at
all, by the democratic route of honest hard work. Or, the bicycles
role in promoting a good state of mind: When the wheel of the mind
went well, then the rubber wheel hummed merrily.
Grainy, black-and-white pictures of Willard bestriding Gladys,
her bicycle provide an added dimension to her tale.
The prose style is from an age when writers were expected to serve readers
up with a decently filling dish, no matter how stodgy that made the narrative.
But the unfamiliar flavours and textures of this treatise are worth chewing
over, if only for a fleeting flavour of the unprecedented liberation that
bicycles brought in their infancy.
PS Mar 09
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