49th Thread: Women do not fish

Soon after you were born, the barbarians from the south invaded the coast. We fled to the ravines and the hills. They stole everything, the grain, the wine, the salt fish, the lentils. Only the beds and the tables, too heavy, were left behind. And the nets, because barbarians are too lazy to fish. We did not starve. We always have the fish. Our men go fishing, never the women.  The further away from the shore, the deeper she is, exactly as deep as the sky is high. The sea rages in storms, she calms down, she gives sometimes, abundantly. She has endowed our bodies with pleasure that spreads its waves through our organs and engorges them. The children delivered later are much more resistant than those born of violence. Pleasure and children, which men envy us, are pearls placed in the body of women by the sea. In exchange, we must not fish. You knew that already, did you not? We can collect mussels and shrimps, provided the water does not rise above our knees. With each wave, the sea tries to invade the earth, but the heat of the sun holds her back. She prefers to follow the moon, which sways us once a month and twice a day in the depths of our bodies where it reflects in our waters: there float our little ones before they are born, when they are still fish. If blood flows, it means the power to give life for women, and the terror of dying for men. They strive hard to win all the fights, we receive the gifts in our bodies. For the privileges bestowed us by the sea and the moon, men will always make us suffer.

Because we belong of the sea, we know the meshes that hold the fish, and our nets catch better. Men make nets in certain regions, according to travelers, but the fishes escape easily. As soon as you started working the nets, you found you already knew. If women fish, the sea rises up into the villages, into the hills, and devours the children, the beasts, the flowers and vegetables, everything that lives, when she retreats. Nothing escapes her voracity except the fish.

Do not forget, for you will transmit to your daughters this knowledge that I have gathered so that it will not be lost.

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This is the 49th woman of 100 mothers talking to their daughters, over 2500 years.

The 53rd woman, having climbed up socially, rejects her own mother. The 52nd woman‘s sister, a smart and lucky business woman, betters the fate of the daughter.  The 51st woman leads the hard life of a hunchback.  The 50th woman’s  mind is as feeble as her back. The 49th mother explains why women should not fish. The 48th woman finds refuge in a fishing village. The 47th mother lulls her baby with an optimistic song. The 46th mother rebells against the wealthy. The 45th mother explains the swing of time, back and forth. The 44th mother resorts to the ultimate sacrifice. The 43rd woman‘s grandmother fights with the priest for a proper burial. The 42nd woman cringes at her mother’s ease at killing. The 41st woman explains the mysteries of incarnations. 

Times of chaos:

The 40th mother lived in the woods. The 39th woman hears her grandmother’s confession. The 38th woman left the cave where she grew up. The 37th woman recommends thinking of an animal during labor. The 36th woman finds refuge in a cave. The 35th woman remembers her easy life in the city. The 34th woman’s life as a courtesan upsets her zealous mother. 

It all starts here: first thread, and the last stories will take place in … present day America.