Don't get excited. It's Victorian clean.
And blame yourselves. I was getting all set to post essays of my own thoughts - and I do so have them. I had all these themes sketched out that had been rattling around in my skull for the past month and then I saw that letter by an American, the one by Ross Boulton, and just had to post it. You loved it. It had some 97 of you reading it in two days - I checked the "Analytics Page" for my site - and that's a better record than anything I've ever posted. Well, here's another.
Someone annoyed a favourite Substacker of mine and she responded. Judy Haiven who writes a newsletter - a substack in modern publishing terms - was responding to critics who disparaged her for her eulogy of Gloria Steinem. She acknowledges another substacker first in saying that "death doesn't cleanse anyone's record" but goes on to present the fuller picture. If you don't want to click on that link for the full letter, here's an excerpt:
from Judy Haiven's substack Sept. 14, 2026
Doesn’t cut much ice for me. As Kelly Hayes notes on her Substack,
“Death does not cleanse anyone’s record, and grief does not give mourners ownership of the truth.”
Truth be told, due to Steinem’s soft-spot (empathy) for the CIA and her connections, I couldn’t trust her as far as I could have thrown her.
But just as in the case of Tommy Douglas, am I supposed to despise her and deny she did anything for the feminist cause. With Douglas it isn’t true he did nothing right and it’s not true about Steinem.
Ms Magazine was a big deal. Feminists around the world and certainly here in Canada read it and took heart. Though Steinem was one of the first wave of bourgeois white feminists, she had values and value to the women’s movement.
She helped change attitudes of many women in the US; she fought for abortion rights, to get women elected; she brought domestic abuse to light and fought for equal rights.
My question is this: Why is it mainly leftie men who disparage Steinem’s feminism and activism, knock down her admirers and want to prove she was a mere CIA dupe? Do the men know more about feminism and feminist icons than women? Are the men more radical and more committed to the fight for social justice than women? Here’s a response from Cornell University philosophy professor Kate Manne,
“…what irks me is the sense that reductive dismissal is the safer and more politically savvy option when it comes to women, as well as other marginalized people, following their passing. It’s quite something when some people in your own circles smile indulgently about the legacy of Hugh Hefner, and spew invective about Gloria Steinem. It’s quite something, and—I submit—it’s no kind of feminism.”
… And here's a few quotations from Ms Gloria Steinem herself:
A feminist is anyone who recognizes the equality and full humanity of women and men.”
Women may be the one group that grows more radical with age.
Once we give up searching for approval we often find it easier to earn respect.
We've begun to raise daughters more like sons... but few have the courage to raise our sons more like our daughters.
We are becoming the men we wanted to marry.
A liberated woman is one who has sex before marriage and a job after.
I have yet to hear a man ask for advice on how to combine marriage and a career.
Empathy is the most radical of human emotions.
We are the women our parents warned us against, and we are proud.
A woman reading Playboy feels a little like a Jew reading a Nazi manual.
One day an army of gray-haired women may quietly take over the Earth!
Well, the line in there that caught my attention was Haiven's reference to another substacker who said, "Death does not cleanse anyone’s record, and grief does not give mourners ownership of the truth."
Right on! Charlie Kirk was not a nice person and he certainly didn't deserve half-mast flags and a White House-mandated memorial service. But even with the "nice" people (the ones of whom I approve) if we start dissecting the lives of every famous dead person – hell, if we closely examine anyone's life including the one we know best, we'll find that we all have feet of clay.
Mother Theresa never supported a woman's right to an abortion, but that doesn't eradicate her legacy of service. She responded to a colleague's criticism of her work in Calcutta's slums that she (M. Theresa ) was taking the Church into the gutter by saying, "Good. That's where it does its best work." And she did good work, obstreperous, dogmatic, old Catholic that she was.
Pierre Trudeau was, by anyone's standard, a very strong-willed and some would say "arrogant" individual. And, his legacy of legislation for biculturalism and gay rights will be remembered far longer than any political criticism. He may have said "Just watch me!" but he also said, "The government has no right in the bedrooms of the nation".
Dave Barrett an NDP premier of British Columbia brought in our 1973 Agricultural Land reserve (ALR) and he said presciently at the time that "They may put me out of office, but they won't get rid of the laws," and they did put him our of office after one term, but today visitors still marvel at the farmland and orchards so close to the city.
All of those ruminations led me to recall a line from Oscar Wilde. Here's the line and then the source:
“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”
― Oscar Wilde, Lady Windermere's Fan- A play about a good woman
I just had to have a look at the play and it was indeed Wilde at his sarcastic best, putting lines in the mouths of his characters to reveal the pompous, ridiculous arrogance of his society. You can find the whole script at gutenberg.org if you want, but I've pulled out some of the lines I liked best. The plot hinges on an improbable deception of a daughter by a previous "indiscretion" returning incognito to the society of her mother, but let that aside. Relax for a spell and join the Victorian upper crust in the drawing room. Tea, anyone?
Act 1,Sc1:
Duchess of Berwick. Ah, the dear pretty baby! How is the little darling? Is it a boy or a girl? I hope a girl—Ah, no, I remember it’s a boy! I’m so sorry. Boys are so wicked. My boy is excessively immoral. You wouldn’t believe at what hours he comes home. And he’s only left Oxford a few months—I really don’t know what they teach them there.
Lady Windermere. Are all men bad?
Duchess of Berwick. Oh, all of them, my dear, all of them, without any exception. And they never grow any better. Men become old, but they never become good.
Lady Windermere. Windermere and I married for love.
Duchess of Berwick. Yes, we begin like that. It was only Berwick’s brutal and incessant threats of suicide that made me accept him at all, and before the year was out, he was running after all kinds of petticoats, every colour, every shape, every material. In fact, before the honeymoon was over, I caught him winking at my maid, a most pretty, respectable girl. I dismissed her at once without a character.—No, I remember I passed her on to my sister; poor dear Sir George is so short-sighted, I thought it wouldn’t matter. But it did, though—it was most unfortunate. [Rises.] And now, my dear child, I must go, as we are dining out. And mind you don’t take this little aberration of Windermere’s too much to heart. Just take him abroad, and he’ll come back to you all right.
Lady Windermere. Come back to me? [C.]
Duchess of Berwick. [L.C.] Yes, dear, these wicked women get our husbands away from us, but they always come back, slightly damaged, of course. And don’t make scenes, men hate them!
Lady Windermere. It is very kind of you, Duchess, to come and tell me all this. But I can’t believe that my husband is untrue to me.
Duchess of Berwick. Pretty child! I was like that once. Now I know that all men are monsters. [Lady Windermere rings bell.] The only thing to do is to feed the wretches well. A good cook does wonders, and that I know you have. My dear Margaret, you are not going to cry?
Lady Windermere. You needn’t be afraid, Duchess, I never cry.
Duchess of Berwick. That’s quite right, dear. Crying is the refuge of plain women but the ruin of pretty ones. Agatha, darling!
Lady Agatha. [Entering L.] Yes, mamma. [Stands back of table L.C.]
Duchess of Berwick. Come and bid good-bye to Lady Windermere, and thank her for your charming visit. [Coming down again.] And by the way, I must thank you for sending a card to Mr. Hopper—he’s that rich young Australian people are taking such notice of just at present. His father made a great fortune by selling some kind of food in circular tins—most palatable, I believe—I fancy it is the thing the servants always refuse to eat. But the son is quite interesting. I think he’s attracted by dear Agatha’s clever talk. Of course, we should be very sorry to lose her, but I think that a mother who doesn’t part with a daughter every season has no real affection. We’re coming to-night, dear. [Parker opens C. doors.] And remember my advice, take the poor fellow out of town at once, it is the only thing to do. Good-bye, once more; come, Agatha.
Act I Sc 2
Lord Windermere. I am afraid—if you will excuse me—I must join my wife.
Lady Plymdale. Oh, you mustn’t dream of such a thing. It’s most dangerous nowadays for a husband to pay any attention to his wife in public. It always makes people think that he beats her when they’re alone. The world has grown so suspicious of anything that looks like a happy married life.
Act I Sc 2 cont.
Mrs. Erlynne. [Smiling.] The wisest thing I ever did in my life. And, by the way, you must pay me a good deal of attention this evening. I am afraid of the women. You must introduce me to some of them. The men I can always manage. How do you do, Lord Augustus? You have quite neglected me lately. I have not seen you since yesterday. I am afraid you’re faithless. Every one told me so.
Lord Augustus. [R.] Now really, Mrs. Erlynne, allow me to explain.
Mrs. Erlynne. [R.C.] No, dear Lord Augustus, you can’t explain anything. It is your chief charm.
Act 1 Sc 2 cont.
Lady Plymdale. How very interesting! How intensely interesting! I really must have a good stare at her. [Goes to door of ball-room and looks in.] I have heard the most shocking things about her. They say she is ruining poor Windermere. And Lady Windermere, who goes in for being so proper, invites her! How extremely amusing! It takes a thoroughly good woman to do a thoroughly stupid thing. You are to lunch there on Friday!
Dumby. Why?
Lady Plymdale. Because I want you to take my husband with you. He has been so attentive lately, that he has become a perfect nuisance. Now, this woman is just the thing for him. He’ll dance attendance upon her as long as she lets him, and won’t bother me. I assure you, women of that kind are most useful. They form the basis of other people’s marriages.
Dumby. What a mystery you are!
Lady Plymdale. [Looking at him.] I wish you were!
Dumby. I am—to myself. I am the only person in the world I should like to know thoroughly; but I don’t see any chance of it just at present.
Act 1 Sc 2 cont.
Duchess of Berwick. Agatha, darling! [Beckons her over.]
Lady Agatha. Yes, mamma!
Duchess of Berwick. [Aside.] Did Mr. Hopper definitely—
Lady Agatha. Yes, mamma.
Duchess of Berwick. And what answer did you give him, dear child?
Lady Agatha. Yes, mamma.
Duchess of Berwick. [Affectionately.] My dear one! You always say the right thing. Mr. Hopper! James! Agatha has told me everything. How cleverly you have both kept your secret.
Hopper. You don’t mind my taking Agatha off to Australia, then, Duchess?
Duchess of Berwick. [Indignantly.] To Australia? Oh, don’t mention that dreadful vulgar place.
Hopper. But she said she’d like to come with me.
Duchess of Berwick. [Severely.] Did you say that, Agatha?
Lady Agatha. Yes, mamma.
Duchess of Berwick. Agatha, you say the most silly things possible. I think on the whole that Grosvenor Square would be a more healthy place to reside in. There are lots of vulgar people live in Grosvenor Square, but at any rate there are no horrid kangaroos crawling about.
Act III, Sc 1
Cecil Graham. Now, my dear Tuppy, don’t be led astray into the paths of virtue. Reformed, you would be perfectly tedious. That is the worst of women. They always want one to be good. And if we are good, when they meet us, they don’t love us at all. They like to find us quite irretrievably bad, and to leave us quite unattractively good.
Lord Darlington. [Rising from R. table, where he has been writing letters.] They always do find us bad!
Dumby. I don’t think we are bad. I think we are all good, except Tuppy.
Lord Darlington. No, we are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars. [Sits down at C. table.]
Dumby. We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars? Upon my word, you are very romantic to-night, Darlington.
Cecil Graham. Too romantic! You must be in love. Who is the girl?
Lord Darlington. The woman I love is not free, or thinks she isn’t. [Glances instinctively at Lord Windermere while he speaks.]
Cecil Graham. A married woman, then! Well, there’s nothing in the world like the devotion of a married woman. It’s a thing no married man knows anything about.
Act 4
Lady Windermere. Good-bye? [Moves towards sofa with Mrs. Erlynne and sits down beside her.] Are you going away, then, Mrs. Erlynne?
Mrs. Erlynne. Yes; I am going to live abroad again. The English climate doesn’t suit me. My—heart is affected here, and that I don’t like. I prefer living in the south. London is too full of fogs and—and serious people, Lord Windermere. Whether the fogs produce the serious people or whether the serious people produce the fogs, I don’t know, but the whole thing rather gets on my nerves, and so I’m leaving this afternoon by the Club Train.
Lady Windermere. This afternoon? But I wanted so much to come and see you.
Mrs. Erlynne. How kind of you! But I am afraid I have to go.
Lady Windermere. Shall I never see you again, Mrs. Erlynne?
Mrs. Erlynne. I am afraid not. Our lives lie too far apart. But there is a little thing I would like you to do for me. I want a photograph of you, Lady Windermere—would you give me one? You don’t know how gratified I should be.
Lady Windermere. Oh, with pleasure. There is one on that table. I’ll show it to you. [Goes across to the table.]
Lord Windermere. [Coming up to Mrs. Erlynne and speaking in a low voice.] It is monstrous your intruding yourself here after your conduct last night.
Mrs. Erlynne. [With an amused smile.] My dear Windermere, manners before morals!
…Ending
Mrs. Erlynne. [Rising.] I suppose, Windermere, you would like me to retire into a convent, or become a hospital nurse, or something of that kind, as people do in silly modern novels. That is stupid of you, Arthur; in real life we don’t do such things—not as long as we have any good looks left, at any rate. No—what consoles one nowadays is not repentance, but pleasure. Repentance is quite out of date. And besides, if a woman really repents, she has to go to a bad dressmaker, otherwise no one believes in her. And nothing in the world would induce me to do that.
There you have it. The society he lampooned so thoroughly wasn't nice to Wilde. Sentenced to prison for sodomy after accusations from the father of his lover, he died soon after his release. Prisons were evil places in his day and destroyed his health. But even if his body was ruined, his reputation and some of his great lines have lived on. And the one I recalled that was the unifying theme for this article and the repudiation of Ms Steinem and Julia Haiven and many more of us is this:
We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.
Keep looking up.
But mind where you place your feet.
Next post will be mostly mine. Promise.