Acridonna, Tea, and the Displaced Feminist Rant As I plopped down next to Aunt Selvi, my indignation practically steaming from my ears, she handed me a comforting cup of tea. With a knowing smile, she patted my hand and said, “Here, here, Acridonna—yes, that’s what the cartoonist Uderzo would have called you—have this tea. It will soothe your ruffled feathers of outrage.” If only Aunt Selvi’s…















