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‘Not you! I was speaking to my women. You’re a man, you know. You fight like a man. You stay with us.’
I look down at my stomach, thinking back to all my ploys with the Gestapo, that same old story of my illegal pregnancy. Is there anything masculine about that? Why is it that the greatest compliment a man can pay a woman is to tell her: you write, you work, you act like a man. When I was preparing the history agregation at the Sorbonne, my teacher, Guignebert, had said to me: ‘You ought to sit for the male section of the agregation; you have the intellectual power of a man.’ I had been extremely upset by that judgement, which classified me according to a stereotype.
My reply to this man, who has received us with such kindness, is in no uncertain terms: ‘As far as I’m concerned, I feel perfectly at ease as a woman, you know; what I did was a woman’s job, and what’s more, a pregnant woman’s, something that would never happen to you.’
There is a silence.
…
Favier is speechless; then his face wrinkles and he burts into loud laughter: ‘What a woman! She isn’t scared of anything. Now I understand, my boy, how she got you out of the cooler,’ he adds, slapping Raymond’s shoulder.
‘Three times,’ Raymond answers. ‘I’ll tell you all about it someday.’
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From Outwitting the Gestapo by Lucie Aubrac
[File under: Badass Women of History, The French Resistance Chapter]