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Updated: July 8, 2025
To sit in one of their nurseries for a day was to change one's views forever as to babyhood. The youngest ones, rosy fatlings in their mothers' arms, or sleeping lightly in the flower-sweet air, seemed natural enough, save that they never cried. I never heard a child cry in Herland, save once or twice at a bad fall; and then people ran to help, as we would at a scream of agony from a grown person.
It looked safe and civilized enough, and among those upturned, crowding faces, though some were terrified enough, there was great beauty on that we all agreed. "Come on!" cried Terry, pushing forward. "Oh, come on! Here goes for Herland!" Rash Advances Not more than ten or fifteen miles we judged it from our landing rock to that last village.
"If there is no struggle, there is no life that's all." "You're talking nonsense masculine nonsense," the peaceful Jeff replied. He was certainly a warm defender of Herland. "Ants don't raise their myriads by a struggle, do they? Or the bees?" "Oh, if you go back to insects and want to live in an anthill ! I tell you the higher grades of life are reached only through struggle combat.
I never saw an alien become naturalized more quickly than that man in Herland. I studied it awhile, thinking of the time they'd have if some of our contagions got loose there, and concluded they were right. So I agreed. Terry was the obstacle. "Indeed I won't!" he protested. "The first thing I'll do is to get an expedition fixed up to force an entrance into Ma-land."
Besides, this was only hearsay; I had yet to see the motherhood of Herland. The Girls of Herland At last Terry's ambition was realized. We were invited, always courteously and with free choice on our part, to address general audiences and classes of girls. I remember the first time and how careful we were about our clothes, and our amateur barbering.
Of course we could TELL them that in our world men did everything; but that did not alter the background of their minds. That man, "the male," did all these things was to them a statement, making no more change in the point of view than was made in ours when we first faced the astounding fact to us that in Herland women were "the world." We had been living there more than a year.
And precious ! No sole heir to an empire's throne, no solitary millionaire baby, no only child of middle-aged parents, could compare as an idol with these Herland children. But before I start on that subject I must finish up that little analysis I was trying to make.
We had quite easily come to accept the Herland life as normal, because it was normal none of us make any outcry over mere health and peace and happy industry. And the abnormal, to which we are all so sadly well acclimated, she had never seen.
Poor old Terry! The things he'd learned didn't help him a heap in Herland. His idea was to take he thought that was the way. He thought, he honestly believed, that women like it. Not the women of Herland! Not Alima! I can see her now one day in the very first week of their marriage, setting forth to her day's work with long determined strides and hard-set mouth, and sticking close to Ellador.
It took me a long time, as a man, a foreigner, and a species of Christian I was that as much as anything to get any clear understanding of the religion of Herland. Its deification of motherhood was obvious enough; but there was far more to it than that; or, at least, than my first interpretation of that.
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