Published in New York by the Knickerbocker Press

I mean, just look at it. Look harder! It’s all lavender and embossing and gold leaf and a looking-glass (wonderfully implying ‘it could be YOU’). It’s an absolutely sodding gorgeous book: rough uncut paper edges on two sides, gold leaf on the top, strange red-and-black printing on the pages which reminds me a little of the Kelmscott Press facsimile I own (made by William Morris. The most beautiful books since illuminated manuscripts. OHMIGOD read his Chaucer… *cough* Excuse me, I seem to have bibliophiled all over the place).

On closer inspection, The Spinster Book is basically a dating/courtship guide, which very much assumes that one should never, ever attempt to talk to the opposite gender like a normal human being. Indeed, it even seems to suggest that too many friendships with men put a woman in the ‘friend zone’ forever:

“To one distinct class of women men tell their troubles and the other class sees that they have plenty to tell. It is better to be in the second category than in the first.”

It’s a bit like Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus, but due to being 111 years out of date it’s even more laughable. (And I absolutely love dated dating advice anyway.)

The chapter titles are a treat in themselves:

• Notes on Men
• Concerning Women
• The Philosophy of Love
• The Lost Art of Courtship
• The Natural History of Proposals
• Love Letters: Old and New
• An Inquiry into Marriage
• The Physiology of Vanity
• Widowers and Widows
• The Consolations of Spinsterhood

(… note that even in 1901 courtship was considered a ‘lost art’. When precisely were the good old days, anyway?)

“There is nothing in the world so harmless and as utterly joyous as man’s conceit. The woman who will not pander to it is ungracious indeed. Man’s interest in himself is purely altruistic and springs from an unselfish desire to please.”

– Chapter 1, Notes on Men

Why I am I still unmarried? Enquiring minds want to know

Buh. Duh…. whu? A man being self-centred is actually selfless, because he’s only doing it to be adorable. So lighten up and adore him some more, regardless of how conceited he is? Can… can I get an irony check on this?

My instinct when dealing with writing from the past (rightly or wrongly) is to assume the chance of satire is reduced the longer ago the text comes from (Jonathan Swift, forgive me). However, for most of The Spinster Book, I’m realising a grain of salt is the way forward. This book does appear, at times, to be Jane Austen-wry, and puts forward some things with a fanciful glibness:

“After the door of a woman’s heart has once swung on its silent hinges, a man thinks he can prop it open with a brick and go away and leave it. A storm is apt to displace the brick, however – and there is a heavy spring in the door. Woe to the masculine finger that is in the way!”

– Chapter 4, The Lost Art of Courtship

But at the same time, it treads the difficult line of mocking some concepts whilst also giving some advice very seriously. I mean, come on, we’re playing for keeps. ‘Do you want to be a spinster? No? Then listen up. No talking at the back. It could be you. It could be YOOOU.’

There’s also a lingering assumption throughout this book that both parties are playing a pretty nasty game of chess:

“He who would win a woman must challenge her admiration, prove himself worthy of her regard, appeal to her sympathy – and then wound her. She is never wholly his until she realises that he has the power to make her miserable as well as to make her happy, and that love is an infinite capacity for suffering.”

– Chapter 4, The Lost Art of Courtship

(Also: lucky girl. Jesus.)

A lot of the book has this kind of masochistic, ‘love is pain’ tone throughout – sometimes in understandable ways and sometimes completely out of the blue. Advice, advice, advice… misery and masochism sneak attack! For example, the final sentence of the ‘love letters’ chapter is “So the old love letters bring happiness after all – like the smile which sometimes rests upon the faces of the dead.”

So, yes, I was unsure what to make of this tone. Then our lovely editor Googled the author, Myrtle Reed, and some more information fell into place. By all accounts, Reed was well-known and admired in her own time. She was the author of some thirty books, which included cookbooks (published under the name Olive Green) and novels under her real name – the best known of which is probably Lavender and Old Lace.

Quick Bio:

1874: Born
1899: First novel published (she continued to publish at least one a year, sometimes more)
1901: The Spinster Book was published when she was 27
1906: Married James Sydney McCullough, a penpal, at the unusually late age of 32
1911: Died of a deliberate overdose of sleeping pills/powders aged 37.

Her suicide note, addressed to her maid, stated “If my husband had been as good and kind to me and as considerate as you, I would not be going where I am”. Horrible and sad, but also increasingly eerie from an author whose most famous epigram is this:

“The only way to test a man is to marry him. If you live, it’s a mushroom. If you die, it’s a toadstool.”

– Threads of Gray and Gold (pub. 1913)

No one on the outside knew of anything bad within their marriage. Indeed, according to Annie, Myrtle Reed’s maid, she “had never heard Mrs McCullough [née Reed] quarrel with her husband during the four years she had been at their home.” It’s useless to guess what lay behind it, or how much was a depressive tendency (which certainly seems to show in The Spinster Book), how much was a bad relationship and how much was a clearly intelligent and ambitious woman feeling desperate and trapped in a society which didn’t have many roles for women.

I don’t really know how to end this post. It started with a brilliant charity shop find which had me so hyped I that was reading passages aloud to my flatmate on the tube until he pretended he didn’t know me… and it’s ended with a bit of a reality-check, I suppose.

Although she never states in as many words that she herself is a spinster, Reed was writing the book at age 27 – five years past a woman’s usual marrying age. By the standards of her time, she was now a spinster, and was presumably preparing herself for the future. The advice I saw as laughable – that being a spinster isn’t so bad as a woman might yet find herself a nice widower – was, perhaps, Myrtle Reed’s actual hope.

The chapter ‘The Consolations of Spinsterhood’ does mention “the dazzling allurements offered by various “careers” which bring fame and perhaps fortune”, but it quickly goes on to show just how little consolation Reed considers these to be:

“The universal testimony of the great, that fame itself is barren … it is love for which she hungers, rather than fame…. If she were not free to continue the work that she loved, she would feel no deprivation.”

Although she was a successful and prolific novelist in her own time, the stigma of spinsterhood would have seemed to erode the achievements she had rightfully earned. Reed implies heavily in The Spinster Book that she would have traded it all in for a husband. Except that when she did eventually marry, that clearly didn’t make her happy either.

As much as I love mocking dating advice (old and new) for any hint of gendered assumptions, Myrtle Reed didn’t ‘opt in’ to play by those rules. In 1901 there wasn’t an ‘opt out’. And shame on me for finding the topic so hilariously trivial in the first place. Check your 21st century privilege, Hannah. If I’d lived in a time and a society where marriage was my home, my job, my finances, my legal rights and my love life all rolled into one – you bet your arse I’d agonise over it. I’d probably buy a few books on the topic too. For every snide, ironic, 21st century reader, there were probably dozens of contemporary readers poring over this book’s advice and worrying about their futures. I, on the other hand, have freedom and choices and don’t have to play nasty games to secure a man to secure my future stability – but you don’t have to go back even half as far as Reed’s time to find women who did have to work within this crapshoot of a system. Whilst artefacts like The Spinster Book make interesting time-pieces, we should never forget that many of us who stumble across it now are the lucky ones – and that our privilege is incredibly rare.

And I guess that’s one of the main reasons why I’m a feminist in the first place.

• The full text of The Spinster Book is available on Project Gutenberg.

We regret to inform you that you have been stripped of the title of the Nation’s Wise and Cuddly Favourite Grandfather. This is due to comments that you made in your interview with Attitude, published yesterday, Tuesday 25th October.

The position of the Nation’s Sexist, Least Favourite Grandfather Who Makes Christmas Dinner Uncomfortable for Everyone and Insists that Girls do the Washing Up is currently open, if you would like to send us your application.

Yours sincerely,

The People of Britain

It’s buried beneath a ton of heteronormative guff of course, and qualified with asides that stab at your gendersense, but I believe it is possible to extract nuggets of common sense from the pages of glossy fashion shoots and ‘What is your spirit handbag?’ quizzes.

So, here is my attempt to rework “12 Things I Wish I’d Known About Love A Decade Ago”, which featured in a recent issue of a popular women’s mag.

They're hearts.

1) Never underestimate the importance of being ‘interesting’.

You owe it to yourself (and the men you date) to have a life of your own. So find some hobbies. In my mid-twenties, I made a guy my hobby. When he dumped me, partly because he felt smothered, I had to get a life… Now, when I’m on a date and I read the menu in an Italian accent, or I smile when I talk about my ballet class, guys really eat it up.

I say:

Never underestimate the importance of being interesting.

Sigh. Where do I even start with this one? Don’t be interesting for ‘the men you date’, be interesting for the sake of the rest of humanity. It’ll be better for you too, I promise – it irritates me when I think of all the hours I spent a decade ago trying to look beautiful when I could have been doing things I actually enjoyed instead. Being interesting lasts longer than beauty and it will win you friends as well as lovers.

2) There’s a fine line between teasing a man and criticising him.

I used to fall into this bad habit of extreme flirting by teasing. One time, I told an older guy who’d had a skiing accident that he was ‘damaged goods’, and I’d need to trade him in for a ‘younger model’. He looked at me like I’d just kicked his puppy…

I say:

There’s a fine line between teasing someone and criticising them.

I can see the sense of this one, I’ve fallen into a similar habit myself. The right kind of teasing is plenty fun of course, but if you’re in any kind of relationship with someone then the very least you can do is be careful with their feelings.

3) You will probably never fully understand men. So just try to understand yourself.

I say:

You will probably never fully understand people. But try to understand yourself.

If you’re feeling up to it you can try and imagine what someone may be thinking or feeling. And if you’re ready for Advanced Interpersonal Skills you can even ask them.

4) Knowing how to cook: helpful.

I see now that it would have won me points. When I was 21, I said to my flatmate, “I’ve bought a bag of tortellini. How do I boil water?” She told me “Make it bubble.” And, for years, that was all I knew how to do. If I’d had any idea how much men savour a woman who cooks – even if they’re great cooks themselves – I would’ve asked for more tips.

I say:

Knowing how to cook more than the author of this article did at 21: essential.

OK, EVERYONE who is physically and mentally capable of doing so should know how to boil water. Not so men can ‘savour’ it, but so you have some basic life skills. Jeez.

5) Your wants and needs are just as important as his.

And if you don’t express them because you think that doing so will scare him away, then you’re saying you don’t count as much as he does.

I say:

Your wants and needs are just as important as your partner’s (or partners’)

And if you don’t express them because you think that doing so will scare them away, then you’re saying you don’t count as much as they do.

(See what I did there? Fun with pronouns!)

6) We see what we want to see (and ignore the bad signs)

It’s… possible to convince yourself that a guy who is acting distant and cold is doing so because he’s overwhelmed by love. But he isn’t; he’s acting distant and cold because he is distant and cold. Wish I’d known that.

I say:

We see what we want to see (and ignore the bad signs)

True, I think. You can convince yourself of virtually anything if you want it badly enough, or the truth is too painful to admit. In my experience you will go on believing it until something shakes you out of it but that’s not very advice-y. So, um: try and be honest with yourself and get a second opinion from someone you trust. And eat lots of fruit and veg.

7) Things change once you’re naked.

This one truly would have changed my life if I’d known it back when I started having sex: sleeping with him doesn’t give you power. It’s not sleeping with him that does. Power to decide how quickly things happen; power to make him want you desperately; power to keep your clothes on if you so choose.

I say:

Have sex when everyone involved is ready.

… whether that’s after you’ve been married for 20 years or 30 seconds after you lock eyes across a crowded bus stop. And if you don’t feel you have a say in how quickly things happen, or that you can choose to keep your clothes on, then dear god don’t sleep with this person (unless it’s in that ‘ooh I fancy you so much I’ve lost control but actually I haven’t really’ way). Those things are up to you anyway, you don’t need to bargain for them.

8) Being worshipped isn’t all that.

You’ll go nuts if he’s absolutely devoted. So let him have a boys’ night or throw himself into work.

I say:

Being worshipped can get pretty boring. Unless that’s your thing.

Once all your insecurities have been soothed by someone who adores your every atom you’ll probably find it gets dull having someone who will never challenge you. Though of course if you’re looking for a slave then hey, have fun.

9) How much men will talk about marriage.

I’ve heard hypothetical wedding plans from several men I’ve been involved with – sometimes on the first date! Yet I’ve never been married. Why do guys tease so? Simple: even honest men like to tell you what they think you want to hear… So don’t indulge in wedding daydreams; it’s not worth the clouded perspective.

I say:

If you want to get married then wait til you find someone you actually want to marry and ask them. If they say yes they probably want to marry you as well. If you can’t find anyone you want to marry that wants to marry you then I would recommend not getting married.

Got that? Can we stop discussing it now?

10) Don’t be cynical.

These days, I try not to roll my eyes at Public Displays of Affection, or join ‘all men are crap’ conversations. Bitterness is unattractive.

I say:

Be realistic. Don’t be sexist.

Don’t join ‘all men are crap’ conversations. They’re as stupid as ‘all women are crap’ conversations and they won’t fix anything. And I wouldn’t worry about faking mindless cheery optimism all the time lest eligible men think you’re a poisonous old hag – turns out plenty of people don’t mind bitterness and in fact it can become a satisfying shared hobby.

11) Sometimes, guys flirt with you because it makes them feel good about themselves.

(Hey, we do it too.) This is also the ‘aha!’ explanation for the men who asked for your number but didn’t call. Idiots.

I say:

Sometimes people flirt because it makes them feel good about themselves.

In other news: sometimes people don’t mean what they say. If they are wearing a Slytherin scarf or an eye-patch you should be particularly careful.

12) Don’t compare yourself to your friends.

Some of them will settle down before you. Mine have been getting married steadily for the past decade. At some point, I started to feel different, and that was a new and uncomfortable feeling for me. Rather than get anxious about it, I’ve tried to remind myself that it’s not a race. Even if you’ve always been first in buying a flat or landing your dream career, you could be the last in marrying.

I say:

Don’t compare yourself to your friends, or to people on TV, in Tesco or in women’s magazines.

Because you’re different people, remember? They have this habit of doing different things, at different times and for different reasons. And more importantly, beware of women’s magazine articles that insinuate that marriage is the goal of everyone’s life, and that if there are no nuptial omens in your tea leaves then you should feel anxious. Bullshit.