Matricide at St. Martha's by Ruth Dudley Edwards

order?’
    Amiss adopted his best impartial civil service manner. Just as he was about to address the Bursar as ‘Madam Chairman’, he reminded himself on which side the Dykes supposed him to be. With some difficulty, he began, ‘Certainly, Chair. I think the issues at present come under four main headings. The first is, for want of a better word, to be described as in Ms Holdness’s words — “Invasions of Personal Space”, with specific reference to smoking and perfume.’
    ‘Very well,’ said the Bursar. ‘I suppose, Dr Holdness,’ she said wistfully, ‘that you would like smoking banned from public rooms in the college?’
    ‘Oh no, Chair. I insist it be banned from the entire college.’
    ‘You’re kidding. Are you suggesting I shouldn’t be able to smoke my own pipe in my own room?’
    ‘I most certainly am. It is bad for the health of those who visit you.’
    ‘But they do that, do they not, at their own peril?’
    ‘Sometimes people have to visit your office, Bursar, and I have to say it’s a most unpleasant experience.’
    ‘But no one is required to visit me in my bedroom. You can’t seriously suggest that it should be banned in private quarters.’
    ‘The smell clings to your clothes and exacerbates allergies, even more than does perfume.’
    ‘Would you say the same to somebody who suffered from BO?’ asked the Bursar. ‘Like at least three students I can think of.’
    ‘An unacceptable comparison,’ said Holdness. ‘Tobacco and perfume are products developed by capitalism in the pursuit of profit without any consideration of the damage done to the individual and her environment.’
    ‘So is soap,’ said the Bursar, forgetting to be meek, ‘which is presumably why you don’t approve of recommending it to our naturally smelly sisters.’
    ‘Item two,’ said Amiss, taking the risk of being ticked off for interrupting, ‘is language. Ms Holdness has proposed a priority exercise to make the language of all documentation free of ethnic and gender bias. Item three is the introduction of training courses to sensitize the Fellowship, staff and students and item four is her proposal to democratize the college through the abolition of titles of all kinds – and indeed, the power that goes with them.’
    ‘That’s pretty comprehensive,’ said the Bursar. ‘Since these are so far-reaching, we should set up democratic working groups to examine each of these matters in turn.’
    ‘No,’ said Bridget. ‘That’s a delaying device, the academic equivalent of setting up a royal commission. I insist on prompt action now.’
    ‘And what does that mean? We couldn’t abolish titles tomorrow if we wanted to without changing the college statutes, which is a slow process.’
    ‘You procrastinate. We do not have to be trammelled by male law. The Council can simply agree to the de facto abolition of the elitist structure of this college; it can be accomplished formally in due course. Otherwise, I shall have to call on the students to apply pressure.
    ‘Furthermore,’ she ran her hands vigorously through her hair, ‘on the question of language, I have here, as an interim measure, a list of words which should be banned immediately from use.’
    ‘That sounds very democratic,’ said the Bursar.
    Other than ‘ugh!’ (offensive to Native Americans and to replaced by ‘how unpleasant!’), the extensive list circulated round the three of them held few surprises for Amiss. The familiar targets were there – from the gender unacceptables (or in Bridgetspeak ‘pseudogeneric’) like ‘brotherhood’ and ‘policeman’; the ethnically offensive like ‘blackboard’ and ‘yellow’ (as in ‘coward’); and the section headed ‘handicappism’, which included ‘blind’ and ‘idiot’ (to become respectively ‘visually’ and ‘cerebrally challenged’).
    ‘There must be three or four hundred words here,’ said the Bursar. ‘Are you seriously suggesting that the likes of Miss Stamp