“A chaste woman is an embodied defiance and reproach to man; an intellectual woman is always a source of irritation, because she is invariably his superior. By this I mean that when a woman is thoroughly gifted she is gifted all round; an intellectual man is generally only gifted in one direction. For example, a great poet, painter, or musician, may be admirable in his own line, but he generally lacks in something; he is stupid, perhaps, in conversation, or he blunders in some way by want of tact; but a truly brilliant woman has all the charms of mental superiority, generally combined with delicate touches of satire, humour, and wit,—points which she uses to perfection against the lumbering animal Man, with the result that she succeeds in pricking him in all his most vulnerable parts. He detests her accordingly, and flies for consolation to the empty-headed dolls of the music-hall, who flatter him to the top of his bent, in order to get as much champagne and as many diamonds as they can out of him. Man must be adored; he insists upon it, even if he pays for it!”
“It is a pity he does not make himself a little more worthy of adoration,” said Irene, with a slight scornful smile.
“It is,” agreed El-Râmi; “but most men, even the ugliest and stupidest, consider themselves perfect.”
“Do you?” she asked suddenly.
“Do I consider myself perfect?” El-Râmi smiled and reflected on this point. “Madame, if I am frank with you, and with myself, I must answer ‘Yes!’ I am made of the same clay as all my sex, and consider myself worthy to be the conqueror of any woman under the sun! Ask any loathsome, crooked-backed dwarf that sweeps a crossing for his livelihood, and his idea of his own personal charm will be the same.”
Féraz laughed outright; Madame Vassilius looked amused and interested.
“You can never eradicate from the masculine nature,” proceeded El-Râmi, “the idea that our attentions, no matter how uncouth, are, and always must be, agreeable to the feminine temperament. Here you have the whole secret of the battle carried on by men against women who have won the prize of a world-wide fame. An intellectual woman sets a barrier between herself and the beasts; the beasts howl, but cannot leap it; hence their rage. You, Madame, are not only intellectual, but lovely to look at; you stand apart, a crowned queen, seeking no assistance from men; by your very manner you imply your scorn of their low and base desires. They must detest you in self-defence; most of your adverse critics are the poorly-paid hacks of the daily journals, who envy you your house, your horses, your good fortune, and your popularity with the public; if you want them to admire you, go in for a big scandal. Run away with some blackguard; have several husbands; do something to tarnish your woman’s reputation; be a vulture or a worm, not a star; men do not care for stars, they are too distant, too cold, too pure!”
“Are you speaking satirically,” asked Madame Vassilius, “or in grim earnest?”
“In grim earnest, fair lady,” and El-Râmi rose from his chair and confronted her with a half-smile. “In grim earnest, men are brutes! The statement is one which is frequently made by what is called the ‘Shrieking Sisterhood’; but I, a man, agree to it in cold blood, without conditions. We are stupid brutes; we work well in gangs, but not so well singly. As soldiers, sailors, builders, engineers, labourers, all on the gang method, we are admirable. The finest paintings of the world were produced by bodies of men working under one head, called ‘schools,’ but differing from our modern ‘schools’ in this grand exception, that, whereas now each pupil tries his hand at something of his own, then all the pupils worked at the one design of the Master. Thus were painted the frescoes of Michael Angelo, and the chief works of Raphael. Now the rule is ‘every man for himself and the devil take the hindmost.’ And very poorly does ‘each man for himself’ succeed. Men must always be helped along, either by each other—or ... by ... a woman! Many of them owe all their success in life to the delicate management and patient tact of woman, and yet never have the grace to own it. Herein we are thankless brutes as well as stupid. But, as far as I personally am concerned, I am willing to admit that all my best discoveries, such as they are, are due to the far-reaching intelligence and pure insight of a woman.”
This remark utterly amazed Féraz; Madame Vassilius looked surprised.