Don’t forget your brolly, Miss Bennet

Was there something particularly dangerous to the female human form about the rain that fell from the skies in the early eighteenth century? In modern times we used to have acid rain, although you don’t seem to hear about it any more. Maybe that would have taken a layer of skin off if you stayed out in it too long – although since exfoliation is all the rage now that might not be viewed as a bad thing by readers of certain women’s magazines. Maybe I could patent an acid rain-based skin cream. But I digress…

It just occurred to me the other day, apropos of nothing, that in the novels of people like Jane Austen, the Brontes etc., any female caught out in a shower was likely to very quickly lapse into a life-threatening fever as soon as she got home. The strong males in the fainting-couch-george-du-maurierhouse would assume grave expressions if any female were know to have been subject to a downpour, and immediately consign her to bed when she returned in a swoon, where they would mount a bedside vigil, fearing the worst.

Either our female heroines are made of sterner stuff these days – I can’t imagine Bridget Jones falling into a faint if she got a bit damp on the way back from the shops – or there was something sinister coming out of the heavens in the old days.


About ramblesofawriter

Writer, thinker, tea drinker.
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