Once you get past all the rhetoric about diversity, all the rationalization . . . it’s pretty clear that the Western canon had to be devalued to make room for women.
The reality is that women have contributed nothing to any field of creative endeavor. Womanly virtues lie elsewhere. They are the keepers of the hearth, patrons of the decorative arts, enchantresses.
But now, for the sake of mollifying shrews, we are required to pretend that the canon is discredited by its lack of diversity, a diversity measured in crude demographic terms completely divorced from aesthetic considerations. In a decomposing culture, where virility has been undermined and displaced by technology, the canon is unable to summon defenders and is overwhelmed by the hordes of mediocre opportunists whose self-elevation depends on the debasement of what they themselves could never hope to achieve. We have to get rid of Rubens to make room for Tracy Emin.
Opening the door of the canon to women did not simply enlarge it; it destroyed it altogether, making it permeable to all the inferior, malformed, vapid, ugly things it was designed to exclude. No vessel stays afloat once it begins to admit water under the rubric of inclusion.
The West’s inability to value and safeguard its own heritage is the surest sign that it is a moribund civilization. The day of woman arrives when men have become too weak to rule her. But her triumph is short-lived because she helms a sinking ship.