Even when I was trick or treating
I was thinking about Mary Wollstonecraft (If you are new to my blog, dear reader, I am writing a book about M.W.). What would she think of that giant inflated pumpkin? (appalled, I think). Would she be as interested in peering into strangers’ houses as I am? (yes, I am sure of this) Would she have taken her little daughter trick or treating? Would she eat too much candy? Did she ever overeat? Does she haunt people? (this, while walking past the graveyard). I am not sure we would be friends. She was bossy and competitive. Abrasive and self-righteous. I do not want her to haunt me. But I love her, that is, I love her dead and as an icon. I like to think that we would have been friends. But I am not so sure. She would have told me what to do all the time. Or envied me. I would avoid her, not answer her calls. Then, she would really hate me. On the other hand, she might have liked how much I admire her. And maybe that would smooth over our rough patches.