I haven't gotten a chance to reread The Handmaid's Tale, but I have greatly enjoyed seeing some of the discourse around here and it's refreshed some of my memories.

As I plunge through the first chapter of A Room of One's Own, however, I notice a narrative theme shared between this and Handmaid's Tale. In both, a great deal of narrative is dedicated to the thoughts and musings that a person has while walking. And in both, there is a sort of guidance that the narrator is expected to follow. Sometimes this is the guidance of men:

...but here I was actually at the door which leads into the library itself. I must have opened it, for instantly there issued, like a guardian angel barring the way with a flutter of black gown instead of white wings, a deprecating, silvery, kindly gentleman, who regretted in a low voice as he waved me back that ladies are only admitted to the library if accompanied by a Fellow of the College or furnished with a letter of introduction.

That a famous library has been cursed by a woman is a matter of complete indifference to a famous library. Venerable and calm, with all its treasures safe locked within its breast, it sleeps complacently and will, so far as I am concerned, so sleep for ever. Never will I wake those echoes, never will I ask for that hospitality again, I vowed as I descended the steps in anger. Still an hour remained before luncheon, and what was one to do?

To an extent - in fact, to a rather large extent - it is the case in both stories that walking is the one bit of freedom granted to both narrators. In Persepolis, it may be argued that even that freedom was limited, for risk of men who would complain of overly-suggestive hip movements. Rules may be placed on the length and locations in which it is appropriate to walk, but fundamentally the right to do so, and to enjoy one's own mind while doing so, is kept in reserve for women.

When I think of this, I think a great deal of street harassment, of how dictations are placed upon us in what we are doing in walking. I recall in particular the one time when a man "complimented" me by saying he liked the way I walked, and I was, in the moment, somewhat confused as to how to take the statement. The truth of the matter was, I had been putting a great deal of effort into changing the way I walked. I was trying to rebalance myself, to move more smoothly, without putting undue strain on any joints, and without locking out my knees or hips. I was trying to incorporate a great deal of what I was learning in training martial arts. And if this individual had noticed that, it would indeed have been a compliment.

And yet I knew in my gut that it was not; that he had not noticed this effort or this smoothness, and that he spoke only to his own personal enjoyment.

Don't walk late at night. Only walk in affluent neighbourhoods, or else you'll be catcalled. Do not move your hips so suggestively when you walk. You may only walk in the interest of performing these tasks we have assigned you. And, by all means, please only walk, let it be your only means of entertaining yourself for this hour, as we close our walls to ladies unless she has a Fellow, or a letter of invitation from one.

What are your feelings on walking as a woman? Do you experience your own world while doing so? What are some of the ways that gatekeepers have stood in your path, defining how and where you could walk?