"A lively mix of memoir, cultural and historical analysis, statistics, and cross-generational profiles of women who shoot
--blasting the notion that feminism and firearms are incompatible."
--"Peace News"

Women, we are told, should not own guns. Women, we are told, are more likely to be injured by their own guns than to fend off an attack themselves. This "fact" is rooted in a fundamental assumption of female weakness and vulnerability. Why should a woman "not" be every bit as capable as a man of using a firearm in self-defense?

And yet the reality is that millions of American women--somewhere between 11,000,000 and 17,000,000--use guns confidently and competently every day. Women are hunting, using firearms in their work as policewomen and in the military, shooting for sport, and arming themselves for personal security in ever-increasing numbers. What motivates women to possess firearms? What is their relationship to their guns? And who exactly are these women? Crucially, can a woman be a gun-owner and a feminist too?

Women's growing tendency to arm themselves has in recent years been political fodder for both the right and the left. Female gun owners are frequently painted as "trying to be like men" (the conservative perspective) or "capitulating to patriarchal ideas about power" (the liberal critique). Eschewing the polar extremes in the heated debate over gun ownership and gun control, and linking firearms and feminism in novel fashion, Mary Zeiss Stange and Carol K. Oyster here cut through the rhetoric to paint a precise and unflinching account of America's gun women.

"A heart shot is what every big game hunter hopes for," Editor Mary Zeiss Stange explains in the introduction to Heart Shots, "that perfect shot placement, whether of bullet or arrow, which ensures a quick, humane kill. A heart shot is also what the best hunting writing has always aimed for--that certain image, or theme, or turn of phrase that strikes to the core of our flesh-and-blood humanity, piercing the tissue-thin membrane between life and death." Hunting and writing about it have not commonly been thought of as women's work, but today women are hunting and writing about it in unprecedented numbers. This collection of stories by 46 hunters who happen to be female shows us that in fact some women have always hunted, and some have written dazzling accounts of their experiences. What you'll find in k to nature and basics and to express in narrative, image, and metaphor the complex meaning of being predator, such impulses are ageless and genderless. There are differences in the way women go about hunting and telling its story. Some are subtle and some are startling. In this marvelous collection a full range of writers from hard-edged realists to contemplative naturalists express the complex thought and emotion that constitute hunting with intelligence and insight. These women are aware of the fact that they are doing something distinctly out of the ordinary. And this is a book distinctly out of the ordinary as well, to be enjoyed, pondered, and savored by women and men alike, all who appreciate a good story well told. [Stories and essays written by Mary Jobe Akeley, Kim Barnes, Nellie Bennett, Durga Bernhard, Courtney Borden, and many more.]

Woman the Hunter juxtaposes unsettlingly beautiful accounts of the author's own experiences hunting deer, antelope, and elk with an argument that builds on the work of thinkers from Aldo Leopold to Clarissa Pinkola Estes. Exploring how women and men relate to nature and violence, Mary Zeiss Stange demonstrates how false assumptions about women and about hunting permeate contemporary thinking. Traditionalists and feminists alike view hunting as a symbol for men's activity in the world - ignoring the reality of women hunters now and in the past. In fields from anthropology to religion and in movements from environmentalism to feminism, women are often seen as nonviolent and allied with the natural world; men as aggressive and alienated from nature. By bringing Woman the Hunter back into the spotlight, therefore, Stange upsets basic assumptions across the political and intellectual spectrum. Woman the Hunter also challenges the notion that human beings - male or female - are separate from nature, an idea reflected in the environmentalist impulse to keep wilderness safe from people. If instead we see people as part of nature, Stange argues, then hunting takes on symbolic value for us all. We become vividly conscious of our inevitable complicity in animal death, and of how we all fit into the web of life. It is by appreciating the value of hunting that we understand what it means to be human.