It’s 1836 and the French writer George Sand is swimming in the River Indre with her clothes on, weighed down by layers of ankle-length fabric. To anyone passing by, she must look mad or worse – driven by a death wish. But for her there is the relief of cool water sluicing hot skin, after walking for hours in 30C heat. She’s been moving all day because if she stops she’ll remember how frightened she is: she’s about to go to court to fight for her children against a husband driven by punitive anger.
Custodire. To care. To look after. To guard. To restrain. Maternal care is, we are constantly told, the most natural of functions. But for century after century, women who transgress the expected norms of what a mother should be have battled for their children and been found wanting. Maternal care comes at a price when the law is involved. And all too often custody can be more a question of restraint than care.
