On childrearing manuals II
I realised after writing my last post that childrearing manuals are not simply a function of today's media-led society in which women are isolated from their kin groups and turn to celebrities for advice. L M Montgomery's strangest book, Rilla of Ingleside, documents one quite well - the main character adopts a war baby at age 15 and raises him with the help of the leading manuals of the time, in a close-knit society where the ties between women were particularly strong (Rilla's mother Anne was too busy with her own community duties to help with the baby). The author satirises the advice: "You must never kiss your little son, unless you wish to create a Jocasta complex," says one. Now that I know more about Greek mythology and psychology, I realise that refers to Oedipus - other advice includes baby talk, sterilising things, and other hygiene issues. There was a huge rise in, I guess, professional childrearing advice at that time, which was responsible for a massive fall in infant mortality. The Plunket Society arose around then - tomorrow one of their nurses is dropping round to give me some advice on getting Ellie to sleep, and they've been assiduously tracking her weight gain and developmental progress since the midwives handed over her care.
A massive body of childcare information has been assembled since then, and it's regularly turned over and revised - tummy sleeping and doses of sunshine were once advocated, now advised against. Diet advice is all over the place. For some reason, fresh air was de rigeur for years - perhaps because it was thought to be a cure for tuberculosis or something, perhaps a misunderstanding of the benefits of exercise and the way close contact with others spreads diseases. Don't get me started on Kellogg. Few people realise cornflakes were invented as part of the war on masturbation.
There's a history thesis in there somewhere, I just know it.
Yet still kids slip through the gaps. A hundred years ago, the fictional Rilla Blythe adopted a 2 week old war orphan because she was convinced it wouldn't survive the institutional care of the day. Two years ago in New Zealand, little Tahani Mahomed didn't have access to all the postnatal care and regular weighings and so on which would have caught her miserable condition before it was too late, because her mother lacked the support she needed to get that care. It's heartbreaking to read, and worse when the life of your own similarly-aged child is in your hands. It brings home the point this anthropologist made on the radio yesterday - humans have evolved to share the care of children.
A massive body of childcare information has been assembled since then, and it's regularly turned over and revised - tummy sleeping and doses of sunshine were once advocated, now advised against. Diet advice is all over the place. For some reason, fresh air was de rigeur for years - perhaps because it was thought to be a cure for tuberculosis or something, perhaps a misunderstanding of the benefits of exercise and the way close contact with others spreads diseases. Don't get me started on Kellogg. Few people realise cornflakes were invented as part of the war on masturbation.
There's a history thesis in there somewhere, I just know it.
Yet still kids slip through the gaps. A hundred years ago, the fictional Rilla Blythe adopted a 2 week old war orphan because she was convinced it wouldn't survive the institutional care of the day. Two years ago in New Zealand, little Tahani Mahomed didn't have access to all the postnatal care and regular weighings and so on which would have caught her miserable condition before it was too late, because her mother lacked the support she needed to get that care. It's heartbreaking to read, and worse when the life of your own similarly-aged child is in your hands. It brings home the point this anthropologist made on the radio yesterday - humans have evolved to share the care of children.