Picture: Spotty contemplates her next major work, which will be an indictment of the artistic community’s failure to acknowledge the role of tortoiseshell cats in advancing Surrealism.
It’s probably the case that a few readers of this blog think talking about cats is akin to pussyfooting while the Howard Government continues its reign of terror, however, there are many bloggers who keep felines as pets, and by this time of the year those cats should be fattened up and ready for Christmas dinner.
As a commentator on culture and a cat owner, it thrilled me no end to discover a book that combines art and kitties. The book, which is rather old but can still be purchased via Amazon, is called Why Cats Paint: A Theory of Feline Aesthetics.
It must be difficult for dog owners to discover that while their pets are chasing their tails and eating some other dog’s faeces, cats are engaging with great artistic movements like Elemental Fragmentism (Princess the Siamese), Abstract Expressionism (Minnie of undetermined breed), and Formal Expansionism and Performance Art (Misty the Domestic). Here’s a passage from probably the most important book about art ever published, except for that other one about that bloke who cut his ear while shaving (Norman Gunston?):
While aesthetic clawing is a relatively common feline creative technique, one must be careful to distinguish between the irrelevant and destructive scratchings that are occasionally exhibited by ignorant owners in the hope of financial gain, and those scratch-forms which demonstrate a high degree of considered artistic intent. There can be little doubt of this when the work has taken a long time to complete, especially in the case of a chewing or mouth sculpture, which is usually the product of great dedication by a cat with a determined sense of purpose. Bad Cat…by Fritz (Fritz de Flayed-Mouse Fischl) of Los Angeles, falls into this category.
What immediately strikes the eye is the bold use of negative space to create the image of a cat (tail upright, front leg forward) walking straight towards us - striding defiantly through this mean, light-slitting, mass produced techno-barrier that curls back as if melted by searing heat. Fritz is not swayed by any promptings of feline Zeitgeist and while his work arguably borders on the Avant-Grunge with its celebration of second-degree white trash, it nevertheless brings into focus the artist’s serious concern with the confining effects of modern technology on the domestic cat. Fritz’s death in 1993 (electrocuted while completing a reconstructionist sculpture on a TV cord), was a great loss to the movement, but he leaves behind an impressive oeuvre including his well known Barbie chewings, The Zen of Ken, 1991, and The Sound of One Leg Flapping, 1992.
That cat of yours is getting too gorgeous for words Darlene.
Since my nine cats have used me as a living canvas, over a long period of my life, I’m wondering what my value in the market would be.
Darlene, while Spotty certainly presents as an alluring and obviously very cultured pussy, s/he is not, technically a tortoiseshell. To precis Wikipedia on this topic: The description “tortoiseshell” refers to cats with brindled coats that have relatively little or no white marking. Cats that are largely white with red and black patches are described as tortoiseshell-and-white (in the UK) or calico (in the United States).
I thought you’d want to know.
That’s the sort of picture that allows you to determine whether it’s worth delving into the archives of a flickr photograph poster. See the cat shot, you move on quickly.
Nice looking cat though. Looks like some nice confident bold brushstrokes on the side. Watercolour?
I find it hard to believe you’ve only found one cat/art book. I would have assumed there were thousands.
Lots and lots, Jah. Yes, she’s a pretty pussy.
Thanks, Geoff. That’s an interesting one. The Lort Smith said on the form that Spotty was white/tortie. Obviously Tortie is not a breed, but a colour. Ã? guess she’s just a mutt. Sigh!!! Torties are the colour you mention, but there seems to be some confusion about who’s tortie, who’s calico and who’s not.
Yes, there’s thousands of books about cats, but this one is hilarious. It’s actually takes the piss out of the pretentiousness and wankery of much art criticism. It’s very funny and some people apparently have thought it was the real deal.
As for books about cats, I saw one the other day which was a guide for men to determine what women were like by the cat they own. Hmmmm.
Cat ownership, of course, being a very reliable index of mental health and artistic output once the head count gets above one, vis;
Two cats mad = mild social impairment, still learning colour mixing.
Three cats mad = severe social impairment, basics of perspective mastered, can do hands and clouds.
Four cats mad = totally reclusive with dementia lapses frequent, understands cubism and has realised that there is nothing in art that hasn’t already been done at a much higher level in Japan.
Above four, the owner (if one can ever be said to ‘own’ cats) is invariably completely dysfunctional but can occasionaly make a canvas sing - either that or they’ve gone off into the “I think large installations of earth mounds and spray paint is art” delusional dead-end.
Yikes! Cat blog!
Tomorrow’s post: What I had for lunch.
Darlene
I think Mercurius is chiding you for insufficient seriousness. This is a debilitating condition of left-wngers that leads (sadly) to not being in favour of pointless wars and (in its terminal stages) to a failure to appreciate the glory that is Malcolm Turnbull. Only a subscription to “The Australian” can turn this horrible disease about.
Lovely moggy though.
While cats are undoubtedly interesting and mysterious creatures who hide depths of cunning creativity behind their impenetrable eyes, thay ain’t got nothing on chihuahuas. Chihuahuas of which I’ve had two, have none of the disbenefits of a real dog, and all the advantages of the cat. They are the Siamese cat of the dog world. Long live Chihuahuas.
PS. Whippets aren’t too bad either.
What do you mean talking “about” cats? Some of my most enlightening coversations these days are with cats. They have some very strong opinions about the major political parties lack of feline friendly policies.
(Semi-attached owner of 1 cat, with 2 step-felines in residence, which according to Iain would make me de facto socially impaired. Thank goodness the 4th one died recently otherwise I’d be beyond help).
This book is just gold. I was introduced to it at Book Club about a year ago now. Unfortunately I didn’t pay much attention to the rest of the night because I was too busy having hysterics over the text and pictures. Cat count - 1.
Harsh but true, Iain. Fortunately, I only have one cat and thus am, errr, totally sane.
Mercurius, I have been looking for ways to post a picture of my cat on this blog for ages. Without a cat post, a blog is nothing but a serious attempt to examine important issues. Nuts to that. ; )
The Australian is good for using at the bottom of your kitty litter tray. I think some people are lacking humour, sometimes these people are on the Left and sometimes they’re on the Right.
Outspoken, women have been demonised for hundreds of years because of their association with cats (e.g. think witches). Of course, a man and his (stupid) dog is something to be admired, revered even. Nuts to that ; )
Emmjay is sane and has good taste in books. The book is hilarious. It’s a reminder of what good satire can be like. It’s essential message is that all art isn’t equal and that the arts community can be full of it (obtuse language, gullibility etc). Using cats to get the message across is a wonderful idea. I laughed and laughed when I read it. I’m just disappointed I didn’t find it earlier.
I believe the authors have written another book.
Incidentally, Spotty is a battler (she was adopted from the Lort Smith after her previous family got rid of her), so she’s voting Labor, although it’s yet to be ascertained whether Spotty is one of Howard’s battlers.
Ah, Mecurius, don’t be so hard
Some of us need a little light relief given the political madness we will be facing over the next six weeks.
Long live moggies!
”
What a load of misogynist codswallop.
Sample one: Doris Lessing, whose homes have always been filled with covens of adored cats, and who has just won the Nobel Prize for Literature. This multiple household tiger custodian is one of the most interesting minds one could possibly encounter, a stupendously productive, indefatigable workhorse and the sort of free, open-minded spirit whose mental explorations of all the important things have enthralled successive generations of men and women internationally.
I’m sure there is a direct correlation between DL’s creativity and brilliance and her cat affiliation and worship.
Well, I have heard it said that a “cat makes a home”, so I guess by extension a cat post makes a blog.
BTW, today I had tom yum soup for lunch.
Incidentally the post was actually a book which is a very sharp critique of the artistic community. But the news about your lunch was interesting as well, Mercurius.
What an interesting comment, jinmaro.
The so-called mad cat women (usually a “spinster” with no children) has long been ridiculed. Of course, independent women who don’t marry always have been for one reason or another.
There was a letter in one of the newspapers today from a young woman who, at the grand old age of 23, was wondering if she was destined to end up a spinster with heaps of cats. She obviously didn’t appreciate the sort of qualities that a cat woman can have.
I wonder if Lessing’s cats are former strays that she’s rescued. People who look after animals others have abandoned should be celebrated and not denigrated.
Good on ya, Judith. I think some of these boys have a very limited idea of what they think is acceptable to discuss. That says more about them than anyone else.
As a cat-man, I snaffled a copy of that book when it came out more than a decade ago. It’s a brilliant hoax - had me convinced for weeks. My cat knew better.
Darlene,
I post under my dead cat’s name.
I wont let go. So I dont.
I. will. never. let. go.
Im a cybertransfeline. heh. But I am not mad.
I. am. not. mad.
Your cat is perfectly beautiful.
Far from being a stereotypical female thing, aside from (the mainly female) medieval witches and the misfortunate cat-companions who were hanged or burnt at the stake alongside them, fact is folks the greatest tributes to cats have been written by countless genuis male poets and writers, such as, Twain, Bierce, Chekhov, Keats, Verlaine, Zola, Balzac, Eliot, Swinburne, Wordsworth, Shelley, Swift, Tennyson, Runyon, Yeats, Hardy, de La Mare, Rilke, Baudelaire, Heine, Neruda, Hughes, Calvino, Kipling, Carroll, La Fontaine, de Maupassant, Boswell, Chateaubriand, Scott, Gray, Southey, Faulkner, Rilke, Murray.
And, sample two: the biggest cat sooks I know who would, if not opposed by more realistic female human counterparts, take in every mad, stray, spraying, braying tomcat and its paramour and multiple admittedly cute but equally feral sprogs, have been not sentimental sheilas, but blokey blokes.
jinmaro on 14 October 2007 at 4:49 pm:
YES.
I have a whole bookcase full of cat books and Lessing’s ‘The Old Age of El Magnifico’ has pride of place.
How absolutely fabulous she got the Nobel Prize. (Even if she did mutter ‘Oh, crap’ on being informed of the news.)
Rob, she was always a fabulously grumpy old soul, even as a young girl. I’m convinced that character trait has a lot to do with her lifelong intellectual curiousity, independence and courage.
Her mother, whom she loathed and never really forgave, was formative. I loved the story DL told in the first volume of her autobiography about how her mother, as a new bride, in a fit of fury threw into a well on the Rhodesian farm her feckless (she thought) husband had brought her to, from her birthplace, Iran, the exquisite silver, china, linen, etc., of her considerable dowry.
She threw her feckless husband into the well? (Just joking.)
Graeme, I wonder what the writes said when they went to the publishers with their idea for a book. Hmmm.
“I. am. not. mad.”
Casey, I.know.you.are.not. Tee hee. My cat is sweet and a bit silly. She makes this strange monkey-like noise. Anyway, there are plenty of cats and dogs at the Lort Smith or other such places that need to find a home, so if anyone is on the look out for a furry friend.
“And, sample two: the biggest cat sooks I know who would, if not opposed by more realistic female human counterparts, take in every mad, stray, spraying, braying tomcat and its paramour and multiple admittedly cute but equally feral sprogs, have been not sentimental sheilas, but blokey blokes.”
It’s interesting why cats have become so associated with female humans. Perhaps men won’t admit it because it would be a slight on their masculinity.
Such interesting talk about Ms Lessing. I’ve only read one of her books (I think it was called The Good Terrorist). It was many years ago, but I seem to recall that it was a fine work.
Rob has a cat and a sense of humour. Onya, Rob.
Jinmaro:
Well, you were the first to bring gender (or at least wombs) into it. Defensive much?
Anyhoo, I’m proudly cat-obsessed. Having just bought a new house, me and the lady friend are trying to work out a permanent playground for Tina - she loves being up high, and in our last rental had her very own Sky Palace (TM) on top of the hallway cupboard. Drunk one night a couple of months back we busted out a synth-pop theme song in celebration of her high-altitude dwelling - keep an eye on the charts, we’re just working out the licensing with Tina’s agent.
Re: the book - I spent an infuriating half hour with my lovely and well-meaning aunt, trying to explain to her that it’s a joke. In the end she was so disillusioned, but only with me for being such an unimaginative sceptic. I hope she never sees the sequel Why Cats Dance, where it’s fairly obvious the shots are of cats being tossed in the air.
men who crap on about owning multiple cats being a sign of craziness, generally mean women, as most people know and therefore by definition are also misogynist. Of course, men who think chicks is an equivalent term to blokes wouldn’t get it.
That’s hilarious; about you and your aunt that is.
As clever as cats are, I hate to break it to Aunt FDB, they are not part of major movements in art.
Why Cats Dance? My cat dances but only cause I lift her little front legs up and make her dance.
I see you’re VERY comfortable with bringing your own generalisations to the table, Jinmaro. Whatevs, knock yourself out.
Anyway, I did intend that part of my comment to feature a winking smiley, to indicate that I was merely being a tad cheeky on a lighthearted thread. Should have said nothing and left you alone in your reactionary sandbox.
Now then. Isn’t this just daaaahling?
what I am not comfortable is your repeated misogynist comments directed at me. So do us a fav, don’t comment on my comments. Deal?
That’s so cute, FDB. I love ginger cats. So cute.
I don’t think it’s appropriate to ask other people not to comment on your comments on an open comments thread, unless they have been utter creeps (which FDB has not or he would have been banned by now).
I think that it’s true that women with cats have mocked and demonised and made jokes of. Anyway, it’s up to FDB if he responds from there.
Is comment non-comment commentary allowed? I like the idea of finding the higher order derivatives of a meta-argument.
For instance, you could represent them with f(comment), f’(comment), f”(comment), and so on.
I don’t know that it’s “inappropriate” to ask me not to comment on your comments Jinmaro. But likewise it’s fine for me to ask you to insert this request in the gender-neutral orifice of your choosing. Had J’s original comment been, say, in the ballpark of:
“Iain, your completely non-gendered comment about cat ownership, mental ill-health and artistic creativity could be taken as gendered by someone like me who is WAAAAY oversensitive to gender issues”
then I’d have no particular objection. But look, even if that was Iain Hall, he deserves better than:
“What a load of misogynist codswallop.”
And for me, you say you’re not comfortable with my “repeated misogynist comments directed at (you)”
Any examples?
of course you wouldn’t have had any objection, fdb, to what you would’ve preferred me to write in response to Iain’s tired, sexist comments, because as you have shown repeatedly in your comments relating to gender you have very little understanding of how misogyny works and are always, prime example above, quick to defend yourself and other men from women who point out that remarks are textbook sexist. Or is it that you just have a tin ear?
Now I’m just waiting for Bingo Bango Boingo and Fydor (sp?) to turn up and we can have a right royal mobbing session with lots of “witty” remarks that no-one gets or finds remotely funny except the male mob. Perfect!
PS: Calling a woman “defensive” and “reactionary” and then referring to her orifices in a crude and brutal way, are always common as muck ruses used by misogynists to answer women who stand up to sexism.
That “emotional” enough for you?
“That “emotionalâ€? enough for you?”
Look, you don’t know me and have completely misread me. Repeatedly.
Now you say that basically anything I do to defend myself is a ruse to cover up my misogyny. Ooh, how clever. Anything but contemplate that I might actually just be objecting to your tarring Iain with an unwarranted brush. Can’t you see that this is BEING defensive and reactionary? Sorry to have to point it out, and obviously you’ll never see it.
I note you haven’t found any examples of me actually making misogynist remarks to you. Only that I called you defensive and reactionary. Oh, and told you in a roundabout way to shove it up your arse. Oh, I get it. You’re a woman, I’m a man and I was rude to you. Ergo, I’m a misogynist. FFS.
FDB, while gingers are beautiful and Darlene, your tortoiseshell is adorable, if you check out my gravatar, you will see Casey the harlequin. And he, and his kind, ruleth my worldeth for evermore.
Hey, leave me out of this. I’m a cat person - love ‘em to death actually - but I can’t pretend to speak intelligently about the intricacies of feline-induced misogyny.
BBB
I like cats. a lot. In past years as well as chihuahuas and whippets I’ve had ginger cats, tortoisehell cats, ordinary cats, and most satisfactorily Siamese cats (2)I even suspect, (as a matter of relevance to this post) that one of those Siamese cats could read but I don’t think he was artistically inclined because he urinated on a rolled up poster of Karl Marx.
Last night, I learnt a great deal about wild African dogs. They look like what I would expect a cross between a chihuahua and a whippet to look. And they sound like cats. Lions have an unreasoning hatred of them. So, can one trust cats?
How is that misogynist?
Why do these cat-related blogs always seem to end up in tears?
How is that misogyinst?
Why do these cat-related blogs always seem to end up in tears?
my comments weren’t directed at Iain but at what he said. There is a difference. What he said was codswallop, (stupid, silly and meaningless) and it was sexist because “the joke” doesn’t work unless you mentally conjure the stereotypical female, usually ageing spinster, who has one or more cats. The more cats the older, uglier, madder, etc.
The more you comment, the angrier, offensive, crude and defensive you become about this, the more you personalise it vis a vis both Iain Hall and me, the more obvious is your misogyny and the more futile your denialism.
Question: do ginger cats have souls?
BBB
Jobby, so true it was worth reading twice.
Casey - for me it’s all about personality. I’m in black and white town right now (yes, Jinmaro, I’m a racist too, I know, I know) and she’s simply the sweetest-natured little thing. I’ll never forget her sidling up to drug-addled friends on the dance floor at my birthday party. “Guys, it’s like 2am. Cuddle time was hours ago. I’m dyin’ here!”.
Yes it does. I’ve always had cats (never lived without at least one), and been regularly called insane (in a joking manner by friends) because of it.
I’ve got three at the moment; at times it’s like living in a madhouse.
What? Not artistically inclined?
Your cat, sir, is a performance artist of the highest order.
Ok, people. Cut out the brawling please. Jinmaro has made her point. People have responded. Move on now, please.
Good one, Mark. Thanks.
Right, now moving back onto cat art.
My cat was an avowed athiest, and his works on religion were many and prolific. His magnum opus resulted from a visit to my mother’s place, where he decapitated her favourite (quite big) statue of Jesus by swiping him off the mantlepiece. The catholics in the room looked in horror as Jesus’ head broke off and rolled towards them before Casey quickly swiped it under the lounge - thus completing his tour de force. Like all truly radical artists, he was banned and never allowed back. And his art, like all good art, goes on: while Casey is no longer, Jesus still exists - silently articulating Casey’s protest - albeit with a thick piece of sticky tape wrapped round his wounded neck.
The furthest my terrible 3 have progressed in the art world was an ongoing sculptural project that involved turning a found object (in this case, a three-seater couch) into a representational response to the concept of ’scorched earth policy’. Eventually the project was so successful that it had to be relocated from my private gallery to a public space (called ‘the dump’) where it could be admired by a greater audience.
“Hey, leave me out of this. I’m a cat person - love ‘em to death actually - but I can’t pretend to speak intelligently about the intricacies of feline-induced misogyny.
BBB”
That made me chuckle.
“Question: do ginger cats have souls?
BBB”
Ginger cats have souls, but questions remain about what team (e.g. up above or down below) they bat for.
“I like cats. a lot. In past years as well as chihuahuas and whippets I’ve had ginger cats, tortoisehell cats, ordinary cats, and most satisfactorily Siamese cats (2)I even suspect, (as a matter of relevance to this post) that one of those Siamese cats could read but I don’t think he was artistically inclined because he urinated on a rolled up poster of Karl Marx.”
Tee hee, not artistic just smart that cat.
“FDB, while gingers are beautiful and Darlene, your tortoiseshell is adorable, if you check out my gravatar, you will see Casey the harlequin. And he, and his kind, ruleth my worldeth for evermore.”
Bugger, the avatars aren’t coming up for me at the moment.
Jobby are you a boy?
“Why do these cat-related blogs always seem to end up in tears?”
Well, I think people care a lot about cats and pets and other things that others seem to think are trivial and meaningless because they are not about the traditional political realms.
“My cat was an avowed athiest, and his works on religion were many and prolific. His magnum opus resulted from a visit to my mother’s place, where he decapitated her favourite (quite big) statue of Jesus by swiping him off the mantlepiece. The catholics in the room looked in horror as Jesus’ head broke off and rolled towards them before Casey quickly swiped it under the lounge - thus completing his tour de force. Like all truly radical artists, he was banned and never allowed back. And his art, like all good art, goes on: while Casey is no longer, Jesus still exists - silently articulating Casey’s protest - albeit with a thick piece of sticky tape wrapped round his wounded neck.”
Casey is that true? That’s so funny. Casey the Cat RIP, you were a true artist.
Yep. I’m man-sized, but still a boy at heart.
My ginger cat, named Timothy, apart from being a bit of a brawler, was also a theologian and a fervent worshipper of the Supreme Being. He would sit in front of him as much as three times a day sometimes and wait to see if he would make a gesture of recognition. The Supreme Being’s name was Kelvinator Fridge.
Thanks for clearing that up, Jobby.
Timothy was a hungry boy. Of course gingers are all males, while torties are all girls.
There is a longstanding cross-cultural assocation of cats with women and it reached its apogee in the association of cats with women said to be witches, 100s of 1000s of whom were tortured and killed (cats and women), by the Church and ruling authorities in Europe in the Middle Ages.
The association of cats with women, in a derogatory sense, continues today on a cultural level in all sorts of ways.
This association exists regardless of whether men own cats, like cats, or don’t see, know about or understand this cultural association and its nasty, sexist sub-texts and meanings.
That’s fine, jinmaro, and I agree. But let’s move on now, please.
It’s such an interesting issue, and it’s amazing to read about the way both women and cats have persecuted, demeaned and demonised.
I do think there’s a gendered aspect to this. I doubt some young bloke would write into the paper worried that he was going to become a “mad cat man”.
Certainly, I’ve been called a “mad cat woman”, and I bet every female cat owner has. Perhaps it’s troubling for some people that some women (presumably like DL) find cats interesting and intelligent.
I actually don’t particularly have a preference for cats over dogs (I’d like a Maltese), but I don’t have the living situation to keep a pooch.
And again, I want to give props to DL for looking after so many cats.
There are a lot of strays in inner-city Melbourne, and they are there because people have been irresponsible pet owners at some point. Grrrr.
Yes, of course it does. Personally, I celebrate the very same cliche others denigrate (hence perhaps some of our misunderstandings). Gertrude from Gormanghast is one of my favourite lit characters, and I used to do odd jobs for neighbour with seven or eight cats who was absolutely lovely (the neighbourhood kids insisted she was mad, and answered the door with an axe, and tempted children into her house with lollies, etc etc). Eccentricity is something I aspire to myself.
That said, of course it’s a gross generalisation. In fact, cat enthusiasts have always seemed a far broader church to me than dog enthusiasts (I make a distinction here with mere owners). I worked at the Royal Show in the dog pavilion a few years back, and good Lord what a weird bunch. Guard dog day - 100% macho dickheads verging on fistfights with frightened looking families. Toy dog day - about 50% camp gay couples, 50% big-haired middle-aged women. The only really diverse day was hunting dogs - Pointers, Retrievers and Labradors - with a bit of city, bit of country, families, couples, no real pattern.
I hate to think what sort of types would have turned up for Pitt Bull Day.
I really enjoyed recently reading Raimond Gaita’s “The Philosopher’s Dog�. He looks at human beings’ relationship with animals and his own experience of this, to discuss issues of moral philosophy and the nature of “creatureliness� and the emotional and cognitive differences between animal species, particularly humans and the most common pets: birds, cats and dogs.
I remember he said that cats have an innate sense of elegant self-presentation: that they know how to sit or position themselves even on a small patch of material or surface they like, in a way that is always perfectly composed, and that this effortless artfulness is one of the many reasons they give those who appreciate such things so much sensual pleasure.
He also said that the hostility that some people express towards those who clearly need and enjoy animals for companionship and comfort (and the lone female with multiple cats is the prime cultural example of this) is an attempt to rid themselves of, or reject, a need which is seen, or felt, as an affront to the ideal of self-sufficiency. A very male ideal, I would suggest.
I would also add, it is possibly an unconsciously felt affront to what is held to be the traditional, expected, caring and/or sexual pleasuring roles of women and that when, or if, women do not or no longer fulfil those primary roles, it elicits reactions ranging from contempt to ridicule to fear to anger to aggression. All of which is seen in relation to women and cats again and again. Witness the old trope about women who blog about cats, that was also raised on this thread: the implication being that it is a purely domestic (read feminine) issue not worthy of serious intellectual attention. When in fact, as Gaita’s book proves, it most certainly is. It all depends on the quality and depth of the discussion - of what people bring to it, to any discussion about anything.
“Witness the old trope about women who blog about cats, that was also raised on this thread”.
Which I why I responded to that old trope with the following comment:
“Without a cat post, a blog is nothing but a serious attempt to examine important issues.”
In other words, I was being a smart acre because the “chuckle chuckle silly cat post, next time I’ll talk about what I had for lunch” comment was a predictable response.
It bores me that some folks seem to think that traditional politics (you know, the real kind that features elections and parties etc) is the only legitimate talking point on a blog like this.
Nevertheless, Mercurius is entitled to his view, and I think it’s obvious that some folks (male and female) have broader interests.
In any instance, the post was essentially about a satirical book that used cats as its weapon and not cats per se, but I don’t mind talking about cats.
“He also said that the hostility that some people express towards those who clearly need and enjoy animals for companionship and comfort (and the lone female with multiple cats is the prime cultural example of this) is an attempt to rid themselves of, or reject, a need which is seen, or felt, as an affront to the ideal of self-sufficiency. A very male ideal, I would suggest.”
Perhaps they are also experiencing jealously because they can’t share such a need.
“I would also add, it is possibly an unconsciously felt affront to what is held to be the traditional, expected, caring and/or sexual pleasuring roles of women and that when, or if, women do not or no longer fulfil those primary roles, it elicits reactions ranging from contempt to ridicule to fear to anger to aggression”.
Yes, well, when women give their attention and care to pets or work or creativity or whatever, they have less to give to the men of this world.
“…remember he said that cats have an innate sense of elegant self-presentation: that they know how to sit or position themselves even on a small patch of material or surface they like, in a way that is always perfectly composed, and that this effortless artfulness is one of the many reasons they give those who appreciate such things so much sensual pleasure.”
Oh gosh yes, Spotty can plonk herself down on the mat and clean herself with such grace. She looks like a furry ballerina.
Bingo, Darlene, we agree!
Ok, some self-disclosure. Liking cats has been a relatively recent thing for me. We had dogs when I was a kid and then I was too distracted and busy and on the move to care about any pets for ages though there were often some living in places I did and which sort of belonged to me by virtue of err affiliation.
I’ve had cats now for 10 years, for the most part only two, but recently that jumped to five. It’s a long story but basically some went awol and then returned and then there was a mother cat and her disreputable but lovingly loyal Silvertail who deposited their four kittens under the ferns at the bottom of the garden and we caught two and gave them to the Animal Hospital where they were most certainly killed and kept the other two because they loved each other so much and we couldn’t keep one without the other and didn’t want to kill all four since the parents had chosen us and entrusted them to us and we didn’t want to let them down.
It’s a happy and generally harmonious household, despite being smallish, cat-space-wise. I think if you treat cats democratically they tend to rise to the occasion and come to prefer democracy themselves. And if there’s always bickies in the bowl and a friendly abode…. well, there is no telling what spiritual, philosophical, and artistic heights they can reach.
“It’s a happy and generally harmonious household, despite being smallish, cat-space-wise. I think if you treat cats democratically they tend to rise to the occasion and come to prefer democracy themselves. And if there’s always bickies in the bowl and a friendly abode…. well, there is no telling what spiritual, philosophical, and artistic heights they can reach.”
It’s true. Of course, the first few months of a cat’s life is so important in relation to socialisation, but they do respond if they’re given care and attention.
“I’ve had cats now for 10 years, for the most part only two, but recently that jumped to five. It’s a long story but basically some went awol and then returned and then there was a mother cat and her disreputable but lovingly loyal Silvertail who deposited their four kittens under the ferns at the bottom of the garden and we caught two and gave them to the Animal Hospital where they were most certainly killed and kept the other two because they loved each other so much and we couldn’t keep one without the other and didn’t want to kill all four since the parents had chosen us and entrusted them to us and we didn’t want to let them down.”
Well, I got Spotty from an animal hosptial when she was 14 months old and there were a lot of people looking for kittens the day I was there. However, it was a strange and sad experience. Only the cutest survive, I suppose. Here’s hoping your kittens found loving homes. I guess you’ll never know.
They really are such individual creatures, with such different personalities.
Darlene, it often feels like you/me are going round in circles but that’s not true, the learning never stops.
For you and all cat lovers:
Charles Baudelaire
Darlene, this is definitely my experience. I’ve never had multiple cats except when I had three who were mother and two daughters, so as far as socialisation between cats goes I can’t really comment from experience.
Apart from that though, there was my first cat (my sister’s really). A big grey and white tom we called Ming (Flash Gordon was not my favourite superhero at age 7 ; we liked the baddie better). He was found alone in a cardboard box, about 3 weeks old, in the lane behind the house of a colleague of my mum’s, when her dog got a whiff on the morning walk.
A few weeks of hand-rearing later, he was dropped off on my sister’s birthday. I realised a few years back that the main (only?) reason we ended up with fifteen years of his sublime companionship was probably an accident of birthday timing. And of course the awful and callous, then kind and nurturing accidents of fate.
The only cat I have now I got with my partner from the “Cat Haven” (just one letter away from being slightly less euphemistic yet twice as gross). Already about 5, she was on death row big time. This crusty old dude who volunteered there heard we weren’t after a kitten and took us straight to her. “I’d take her home myself but the missus draws the line at ten”. She was a bit hacked up around the ears, and mostly black, so we called her Tina (and every cat she fights with Ike). From between my feet she has asked me to say hello to all the cat people. Apparently the rest of you can get stuffed.
Yes, she’s talking to you, Munn.
Darlene, this is definitely my experience. I’ve never had multiple cats except when I had three who were mother and two daughters, so as far as socialisation between cats goes I can’t really comment from experience.
Apart from that though, there was my first cat (my sister’s really). A big grey and white tom we called Ming (Flash Gordon was not my favourite superhero at age 7 ; we liked the baddie better). He was found alone in a cardboard box, about 3 weeks old, in the lane behind the house of a colleague of my mum’s, when her dog got a whiff on the morning walk.
A few weeks of hand-rearing later, he was dropped off on my sister’s birthday. I realised a few years back that the main (only?) reason we ended up with fifteen years of his sublime companionship was probably an accident of birthday timing. And of course the awful and callous, then kind and nurturing human intervention.
The only cat I have now I got with my partner from the “Cat Haven” (just one letter away from being slightly less euphemistic yet twice as gross). Already about 5, she was on death row big time. This crusty old dude who volunteered there heard we weren’t after a kitten and took us straight to her. “I’d take her home myself but the missus draws the line at ten”. She was a bit hacked up around the ears, and mostly black, so we called her Tina (and every cat she fights with Ike). From between my feet she has asked me to say hello to all the cat people. Apparently the rest of you can get stuffed.
Yes, she’s talking to you, Munn.
FDB, please see this page about what to do if you get caught in the spaminator:
http://larvatusprodeo.net/about-larvatus-prodeo/comments-policy/what-not-to-do-if-your-comment-doesnt-appear/
Hint - posting the same comment twice makes it worse!
Eek! Duplicate shenanigens!
Sorry Darlene, my puter’s on the fritz.
Mark - assuming this gets through I know the drill, it’s just my browser’s going haywire. None of your pages ever seem to finish loading, even when everything’s come up. Front page too - and other wordpress blogs seem fine.
Anyhoo, please feel free to tidy up my duplication and pfaffing about.
Gravatar server seems to have gone bung lately, FDB, and that might be impacting negatively on your browsing experience!
The problem will be looked into tomorrow hopefully!
Thank you for the Baudelaire, jinmaro. Wonderful stuff!
I love and respect cats, but have no space in my home for one at the moment: the other non-humans are quite incompatible with a feline housemate. Realistically, there is no room for any other animals, human or non-human.
“Darlene, it often feels like you/me are going round in circles but that’s not true, the learning never stops.”
Ahhh, but sometimes that’s the nature of communication. It’s not always perfect, and sometimes it’s not good. It’s the moments of clarity, however, that make it all worth it.
“A few weeks of hand-rearing later, he was dropped off on my sister’s birthday. I realised a few years back that the main (only?) reason we ended up with fifteen years of his sublime companionship was probably an accident of birthday timing. And of course the awful and callous, then kind and nurturing accidents of fate.”
Everyone involved was lucky, weren’t they? Crikey, FDB, I am getting weepy. There’s no point thinking about what would have happened to puss if there was no walk down that lane that day.
“I’d take her home myself but the missus draws the line at ten�.
Draws the line at ten, hey? The woman I talked to at the Lort Smith mentioned that she had multiple cats at home. She has one of those fenced in areas so they can wander around the garden without leaving it.
A big hi to Tina!!!!
“Sorry Darlene, my puter’s on the fritz.”
That sounds painful. Don’t worry about it, these things happen.
Thanks so much for that Charles Baudelaire; it’s extraordinarily beautiful.
“Erebus would have made them his funereal steeds,
Save that their proud free nature would not stoop to
this.”
That’s so true.
“I love and respect cats, but have no space in my home for one at the moment: the other non-humans are quite incompatible with a feline housemate. Realistically, there is no room for any other animals, human or non-human.”
Yes, sometimes are circumstances don’t allow for pets, which is a shame but it’s best to admit it rather than get a pet and then not be able to keep it.
What an interesting thread this has turned out to be.
Yes. What was it about again?
Oh, art. Tina just did a Pollock on the doormat. Stupid spring furballs.
You could try to sell that Pollock, FDB.
Yikes, it could go for millions.
There’s nothing like that sound of a cat preparing to cough it all up.
“Yes, sometimes are circumstances don’t allow for pets, which is a shame but it’s best to admit it rather than get a pet and then not be able to keep it.”
In my case I already have pets galore - mostly of the small furry and feathered varieties. Some are about bite-sized, in fact. Others are slightly larger but would never tolerate a cat (or a dog, or more humans etc). A fine, chaotic menagerie for an apartment, but mutually exclusive with cat-kind.
My partner’s mum has a lovely domestic short hair - Kinky - at her apartment that I occasionally provide a warm lap for during our visits.
Ahhh, I don’t think I caught on to what you exaxtly meant by the non-human bit (I thought you might have been living with a teenager or something : ))
Thanks Klaus. And a big hello to your feathered freinds.
Since this is turning into a blog about all things cat, perhaps some of you might be interested in the early history of cats in European Australia. The following comes from an unpublished piece on the First Fleet, which I was working on before I got into the Oz connection with the American Revolution.
“The First Fleet’s chaplain, Richard Johnson, had with him aboard the Golden Grove two small kittens, ‘a little present’ for him and his wife, Mary, which delighted them both and provided them with much entertainment on the long voyage out. He set his cats free to kill the native wild life, sending one to Norfolk Island because it dug up his garden, and letting the other loose in Sydney Cove. Both felines were most effective in their slaughter. The only other progenitor of this country’s feral cat population on record was the cat on Lady Penrhyn. It did not stay, but left with its ship in May 1788. It ‘went overboard and drowned’ off the coast of Formosa (Taiwan)one evening the following October.”
Hope you found this entertaining.
Most gingers are males, but it is certainly possible to have ginger girls. My ginger girl died earlier this year, aged 18, bless her.
I now have two kittens and they are 100% house cats. The old cat would have not tolerated being confined indoors, but there are so many people around who seem compelled to humanise/demonise the cats themselves (rather than their companion humans) for ‘bad’ and ‘antisocial’ traits, that it seems the best thing to do.
I am asking Santa Claws for a scratching post for Christmas, one of those really big ones, about two metres tall with ladders and tunnels and nests and things.
BTW, when the artistic cats book came out a calendar followed, and I think it has become an annual event.
Thanks for that, Paul.
Mmmm, the first irresponsible cat owners in Australia, perhaps?
Are you a history student or an historian? The Oz connection with the American revolution sounds like it would be an interesting read.
Thanks for the clarification, aml. I guess there are genetic reasons why most gingers are male, and also that a few of them aren’t male.
Funky Cat has some interesting scraching posts. They seem rather large, but if you have the room for it I am sure your new buddies would love them.
Indoors they are safe from lots of things (e.g. cars, cranky humans). The ginger I used to reside with (Jack) met his maker thanks to a brush with a car. It was terrible.
We have a look out for those calendars. The book must have been quite a hit when it came out.