The Female of the Species

by Rudyard Kipling

(Catching Life by the Throat, edited by Josephine Hart, Virago Press)

When the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his pride,

He shouts to scare the monster, who will often turn aside.

But the she-bear thus accosted rends the peasant tooth and nail.

For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.

When Nag the basking cobra hears the careless foot of man,

He will sometimes wriggle sideways and avoid it as he can.

But his mate makes no such motion where she camps beside the trail.

For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.

When the early Jesuit fathers preached to Hurons and Choctaws,

They prayed to be delivered from the vengeance of the squaws.

’Twas the woman, not the warriors, turned those stark enthusiasts pale.

For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.

Man’s timid heart is bursting with the things he must not say,

For the Woman that God gave him isn’t his to give away;

But when hunter meets with husband, each confirms the other’s tale —

The female of the species is more deadly than the male . . .

She is wedded to convictions — in default of grosser ties;

Her contentions are her children, Heaven help him who denies! —

He will meet no suave discussion, but the instant, white-hot, wild,

Wakened female of the species warring as for spouse and child.

Unprovoked and awful charges — even so the she-bear fights,

Speech that drips, corrodes and poisons — even so the cobra bites,

Scientific vivisection of one nerve till it is raw

And the victim writhes in anguish — like the Jesuit with the squaw!

So it comes that Man, the coward, when he gathers to confer

With his fellow-braves in council, dare not leave a place for her

Where, at war with Life and Conscience, he uplifts his erring hands

To some God of Abstract Justice — which no woman understands.

And Man knows it! Knows, moreover, that the Woman that God gave him

Must command but may not govern — shall enthral but not enslave him.

And She knows, because She warns him, and Her instincts never fail,

That the Female of Her species is more deadly than the Male.

To use this poem I had to overcome my impassioned reluctance to make a cut in the middle of it, in order to fit it in — much of the missing bit is included below — but I believe it’s worth it. This poem, and others, by eight major poets, Auden, Dickinson, Eliot, Kipling, Larkin, Moore, Plath and Yeats, are selected from Josephine Hart’s dramatic poetry evenings at the British Library for the book mentioned above. Leading actors read a selection of the poems on a CD that accompanies the book, so that one does not need to balance it on the steering wheel when stuck in traffic; one only has to play the CD and listen . . . as Sir Roger Moore tells you that “The female of the species is more deadly than the male”.

This poem examines the relationship between the sexes on the basis that the core of any female’s nature is found in her instinct to defend her family: The Himalayan peasant shouts to scare off “the he-bear in his pride”, but the she-bear would not be so easily frightened; she would rend “the peasant tooth and nail./ For the female of the species is more deadly than the male”. And “When Nag the basking cobra hears the careless foot of man”, he will “avoid it as he can”. But the female doesn’t budge — and may attack — because “The female of the species . . .” Kipling moves up the food chain to include Hurons and Choctaws, whose squaws were deemed to be more of a threat to the preaching Jesuit fathers than their warrior husbands.

In the verses not included here, Kipling writes that “Man propounds negotiations, Man accepts the compromise”. And that Man will rarely “push the logic of a fact/ To its ultimate conclusion in unmitigated act”. However, Man is also subject to “Fear, or foolishness” that “impels him . . ./ To concede some form of trial even to his fiercest foe”. And therein, through his reasonableness, lies his weakness, since the matter is not dealt with cleanly and, as a result, “Mirth obscene diverts his anger! Doubt and Pity oft perplex/ Him in dealing with an issue — to the scandal of The Sex!” Woman is scandalised by Man’s frequent inability to bring a situation to an end because he is somehow distracted. She will fight for her convictions; he will negotiate with the enemy. She demands conclusion; he dithers. Of course I would argue that the roles are often reversed, but there is truth in this.

Kipling writes “every fibre of her frame/ Proves her launched for one sole issue, armed and engined for the same;/ And to serve that single issue, lest the generations fail,/ For the female of the species . . .” And so we know that it is the protection of her young that drives her, for, should “the generations fail” Woman would not be fulfilling her biological purpose in life. Being a mother supersedes all else: “She can bring no more to living than the powers that make her great/ As the Mother of the Infant and the Mistress of the Mate!/ And when Babe and Man are lacking and she strides unclaimed to claim/ Her right as femme (and baron), her equipment is the same.” While “baron” is a rank of nobility normally attributed to a man, a woman can also hold the rank in her own right, though she be known as “baroness”. And her equipment is that of the power bestowed on her by her place as Mother and Mistress.

This power, however, is confined to her defence of Infant and Mate. Woman is not permitted to take part in the governments of life. “Her contentions are her children”, for which we could also read “Her children are her contentions”, because if Woman argues for her children, then she also nurses her arguments as if they were children — as sometimes we do — and is therefore unreasonable. Any man who crosses her will find “He will meet no suave discussion” but the fury of a woman who will fight him “as for spouse and child”. (Even if it is only a matter of how to park the car.) Man, on the other hand, is able to grasp the concept of “some God of Abstract Justice — which no woman understands”. This poem applauds Woman’s strengths but limits her rational powers on the basis of her natural purpose. Man’s aptitude for reason is acknowledged, but his weaknesses are exposed.

And so Man, “the coward, when he gathers to confer”, in council (or pub or House of Commons or mosque) “dare not leave a place for her”. Woman’s strength challenges his weakness, and he cannot relinquish power for her benefit for fear that he become unnecessary, because “The female of Her species is more deadly than the male”.

This is a marvellous poem to prepare teenagers for the potential arguments in the relationships to come, and many of them will have a chance to read or listen to it because Josephine Hart initiated a gift of the book, with CD, and a three-CD set of the entire book, to every secondary school in England — over 5,000 of them.

frieda.hughes@thetimes.co.uk

Times Recommends

• Superfreakonomics by Steven D Levitt and Stephen J Dubner
• The Times picks the 50 best paperbacks of 2009
• Vincent van Gogh’s letters show the soul of the artist