The Protagonist’s Diet

November 24, 2010 by 3 Comments

Dear Millicent,

With the recent news that Disney has decided to close down the princess factory due to the fact that girls just weren’t a big enough audience, and even repackaged Rapunzel into Tangled, complete with male protagonist and Bourne-style fight scenes to lighten the stench of icky girldom, I am have been doing some thinking about my diet.

If little girls, aka half the population of children, are just too small of a stake to make films for, then why service the other half at all?  Ah yes, that old chestnut about how boys resist building themselves into female narratives, but girls, out of sheer survival (I’m talking cozy survival here, like multiplex-entertain-me survival), quickly patch themselves in to male narratives with little flinching. Meaning, if I have twins, a boy and a girl, there is no way as a parent I could take them both to The Princess and the Frog, but I could def have a grand family day at Toy Story.

And of course this extends to our grown up selves. I’ve never heard a man willingly relate to Meg Ryan, thought lots of women have taken on the journeys of George Clooney as the thinking person’s everyman.

In this past month, I have given up coffee, booze, refined sugar, white flour, red meat, eggplant, tomato, dairy, and white potatoes. Also raw onion, grapes, and all spicy meals.I have done this great reduction under my acupunturist’s orders, in an effort to be less of a bitch (she says my liver is inflamed).  I miss everything, but not enough to really go out and get it.  I also wake up more easily, and have better breath.

What if our  movie diets changed in a similar, and equally radical manner? If girls and women aren’t enough of a market share because they willingly do what their male counterparts won’t, what happens if we stop doing it? What if we stop going to see movies that have only a leading male protagonist?  We don’t go see them with our kids, our families, on dates, or on rainy afternoons.  We don’t take our brilliant nieces or nephews to see Untangled.

I find this idea grim. I love movies and TV, and would hate to lose such a large pleasure. Hearing somebody proclaim they can’t go see a movie because of it’s lack of female protagonists would be as irritating as hearing me order food at a restaurant now (hold the dairy, tomato, and oh, is there white flour used in the bun?) But, if, like booze and red meat, you got to kick it to win it, then maybe it’s worth the hiatus?

I’m not sure I can go on this movie diet alone. It could only work if it was a huge boycott. So huge that it could end quickly, and we could feast again. This time happily gorging on the awesomeness of entertainment that admits we are a fucking large piece of the puzzle.

We are what we eat, after all. And I’d love to be a real protagonist someday.

Yours,

CF

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Christian Boys on How Girls Can Stop Making Them “Stumble”: (Hint: Don’t Move. And Make Sure You’re Not-Moving On Purpose.)

July 27, 2010 by 5 Comments

I love the smell of sexism in the evening. Are you ready for “The Rebelution“? Where teenagers “rebel against low expectations”? Sociological Images published the results of a survey of 1600 Christians on how “modest” they consider various articles of clothing and behavior (and the corresponding “value” of the wearer/actor). Boys and girls took the survey and the behaviors of both genders were up for discussion. It was a productive conversation wherein both sides got to express their points of view and their spiritual and physical struggles with desire.

Ha. I kid.

Here’s what really happened: the only gender subjected to the “Modest or Not” test? Women. (Sorry, “girls.”) The 1600 respondents invited to minutely inspect and judge every aspect of female behavior, attire and deportment? Men. (Correction: “guys.”) The theological dimension? None—unless you count “stumbling,” an undefined expression the survey uses to describe a temporary lapse, always by a male in response to female lures.

The “Modesty Survey” got its start when a young woman suggested an “anonymous discussion on modesty” between boys and girls. The survey counts itself a rousing success at achieving this (potentially quite useful) goal. The number of female respondents? Zero. Girls were apparently encouraged to ask questions, just not answer them.

Respondents were given statements with which they could agree or disagree. The good part: the Christian boys often seemed to be quite a bit more thoughtful than whoever put this survey together. The bad part? Whoever designed it seems to have wilfully ignored two truths—boys have self-control, girls feel desire—and one claim: neither sex has any business policing the movements of the other.

Here are some sample statements boys are invited to have an opinion about. They can Strongly Agree, Agree, Neutral [not a verb, that always bugs me], Disagree, or Strongly Disagree:

  • “Playing with jewelry, such as a necklace, is a stumbling block.” (Result: 58% “Disagree” or “Strongly Disagree.” Phew!)
  • “A purse with the strap diagonally across the chest draws too much attention to the bust.” (Result: 47% of respondents “Agree” or “Strongly Agree.” According to that bunch, messenger bags are  for whores.) To be fair, some guys were a little more sensible. One comments: “This is a case where if the guy is staring then he should check himself on that. I wear a messenger bag myself, so I can’t hold a double standard. I can, however, hold myself to a higher standard and just not look.”

    • Others had detailed procedures; some were ready to break out the measuring cups:

    “Depends upon how heavy the bag is. If the strap pushes on the shirt such that the breasts are separated as one looks down, it’s immodest.”

  • “Playing with hair is not a stumbling block.” 61% agree! Girls can play with their hair, but by gum, THERE ARE LIMITS:

    “Not in of itself, but if you spend a lot of time playing with your hair it makes a guy wonder if you aren’t trying to attract attention.”

    And if a guy is [count the qualifiers] wondering whether you might be trying to attract attention, you are conclusively IMMODEST. Someone else offers the following clarification:

    “Technically, it’s a flirting technique.”

    According to this young man, “flirting techniques” are not “stumbling blocks” in the pursuit of Christianity. An 18-year old respondent, however, does “find it hard to imagine a beautiful and modest woman doing it. It does perhaps exceed the bounds of propriety.”

Try this one on for size:

  • “It is a stumbling block to see a girl lying down, even if she’s just hanging out on the floor or on a couch with her friends.” (22% agreed.)

Or this one!

  • Seeing a girl’s chest bounce when she is walking or running is a stumbling block. No running, ladies. Or walking, unless you have strapped your boobs down like Gwyneth Paltrow in Shakespeare in Love. In sum, cross-dressing might be best.

How about this?

  • “The lines of undergarments, visible under clothing, cause guys to stumble.” (72% Agree or Strongly Agree). As this is virtually impossible with the majority of bras, you may want to dispense with them altogether. Or cross-dress (see above).
  • “Seeing a girl take off a pullover (i.e. a shirt that must be pulled over the head) is a stumbling block, even if she is wearing a modest shirt underneath.” Here’s a fascinating comment:

    “It kind of depends, if she is careful it is not a problem, but most girls don’t think about it and so it becomes one. It’s not that they don’t care, it just isn’t something they think usually think of.”

“It isn’t something they think usually of.” Amazing how much real understanding that shows, and how radically it goes off-track. That statement says something true about a basically “modest” existence—a perspective so pure  it doesn’t even suspect that the behavior in question might provoke lust—yet contains within it the injunction that she should “think of” the lust she is always in danger of provoking.  In other words, it’s not enough for her to be innocent. She needs to be intentional about her refusal to arouse. But not too much, because if she shows she understands too well, she’s in danger of (oh devilry!) abusing that knowledge to “get attention.” Not to court attention is insufficient: she should “be careful” when she takes a sweater off.  She needs to actively, deliberately not-arouse. She should become self-conscious, limit her movements, regard herself not as a thing that exists and sees, but as a terrible catalyst that can at any moment tempt men to their eternal damnation.

That’s not enough, of course. In order to understand how not to arouse her Christian brothers, she must first understand what does. (Like messenger bags.) To protect them properly, she has to become not just conversant but fluent in all possible masculine sexual fantasies. She has to learn their origin and derivation. She has to study how men can possibly convert an innocent movement (like walking) into an erotic stimulus. In fact, she has to become a virtual Ph.D. on masculine sexuality; she has to become a fantasizing male-by-proxy in order to avoid tempting any such male. She must call on all her resources, her empathy, her understanding, to imagine what it is like to be male and incorrigibly sexual. And she should perform these empathic acrobatics without having any sexual thoughts of her own.

Now, this is all ostensibly to protect the souls of her “Christian brothers.” What about her soul? From a Christian point of view, can there be a better recipe for temptation than to force a human being to become a theoretical expert in precisely the imaginary prurient scenarios that ostensibly jeopardize the souls of men?

Back to the survey. To state the obvious, here’s what all this teaches boys: All that matters is your reaction. The difference between a modest behavior and an immodest one is the desire it stirs or doesn’t stir in you. Ideally, a woman will fully understand her awful power and control it responsibly; if not, it’s her fault. But since a woman’s (I’m sorry, “girl’s”) intent is unknowable, what determines her success or failure at “modesty” is the effect she produces on you. Moreover, Christian boys, your subjective state of arousal at a particular moment trumps a “girl’s” liberty to exist freely (the way you do). Women should actively police their behaviors, their movements, their clothing and their faces so you don’t have to spend the occasional (and unavoidable) tempted minute staring into your own soul. And rest assured: girls feel no desire or temptation themselves, so you are free to be as attractive and flirtatious as you like without feeling a moment’s guilt. Your relationship to your body can be joyous. It doesn’t fall to you to labor under the metaphysical mindfuck of being told that your body—YOUR body! the one you were born in, the thing you are!—shares in the guilt it provokes in others the minute it takes any pleasure in its God-given beauty. Boys, you needn’t know that your beauty is also your disease (as a result of which you may end up among the damned; in the absence of which you may end up alone).

To state something equally obvious: none of this disaster of a philosophy is the boys’ fault. I have no doubt the Modesty Survey respondents have good hearts. They’re grappling with one of the great human problems: how to deal with the fact that you live in and through a body, and how to understand the complicated dance between desire and its fulfillment or diffusion. These are all large and complex issues of personhood and it is certainly not the boys’ fault that this survey invites toxic answers. (By virtue of its structure, the survey excludes any other kind). The fault lies with the pernicious idiots who invent “tools” like this one, tools that claim to measure but actually perpetuate the dehumanizing idea that one gender gets to dictate what the other one does.

Here is the real image for the survey. I wish I were kidding:

Maybe when Christians adopt the veil we’ll finally have world peace.

Or maybe, instead of turning girls into stones by making them feel guilty for the physics of their bodies when they walk, we can teach each sex not to blame the other when it “stumbles.” We could all work on getting better balance.

M

Filed under BEST OF Millicent and Carla Fran, Experiments, Lady Parts Tagged with , , , ,

Mad Men

September 12, 2008 by Leave a comment

Dearest Millicent,

I envy your belly-dancing.  I have tried the art twice, both times lapsing into a gawky “isn’t this hilarious” stance in order to avert all eyes from my lack of rhythm or failed attempts at sensuality.  Once was at a belly dance class at the YMCA where the teacher didn’t seem to understand that the snakiness that was so natural to her took a little thinking (she had that worst sin of teaching–the inability to imagine life without the knowledge that is being transferred.  She knew her dance, but didn’t know that some of us had never used those muscles).  The second time was in Tunisia, where my boss was less than pleased that I had been invited to actually participate as a real person on our trip.   But I agree–it is beautiful and powerful.  I heard somewhere that women learn to belly dance in order to train their muscles for childbirth–which I find fascinating.  And there are sequins! And, there is that really cool breath noise that comes from your esophagus sliding on your diaphragm when the upper half of the torso moves. I can see how the class would bring up memories of the baths–especially because of its insistence that the body itself is the beauty, and that it should be appreciated for its form instead mashed into hiding under shame, jeans, or Spanx.  I bet Belly dancing hates Spanx.  They would fight if they met at a party.

I came to this post today ready to rant about the poor behavior of two of my peers (I guess they are peers, I’m unsure).  They remind me of Madmen.  These two gents (I work on a mutual side project with them), most times I interact with them, leave me frustrated and outraged.  They are masters at exasperating me and making me feel powerless (thus, the exasperation).  They insist they respect me and my intelligence, and would never ever agree to the fact that they are sexist.  Yet, with every interaction, they assume I have no ability, and in no way an intelligence equal to theirs.  I was ready to call the whole thing off, and then they painted me into a new corner, where if I quit it looks like I am pouting because they disagreed with me.  It would be too revealing (and boring) to go into the whole event.  But it has brought about a couple of questions.

How do you defend yourself when the person you are talking to leaves no space for words or logical response? Do you simply not engage? Do you wait your patience until the perfect “so there!” arrives, and then deliver it? Do you write an articulate emailing saying that the shenanigans are over, and then give a flying fuckwad to what their interpretation of your response may be?  Or do you just make a note of overall assholeness and remember not to trust them with anything that actually matters to you?

This also brings up the question of keeping people in your life because they bring a little more daring into the world than you can get on your own, or because they have some strange connections that might behoove you one day to know about.   I was chatting about this with a beloved mutual acquaintance of ours, and she mentioned that the firecracker friends (the ones that you don’t want to see often, but you do want to know–the ones that when you are with them, strange elements appear (vast amounts of porn and candy, champagne and ho-hos, 36 hours of actual fun party, offense, nudity, arrests, thrills)–are overrated.  My fear is that without them, I am a bit of a bore.  We realized that it boiled down to the fact that we are grown-ass women who still want to be with the cool kids in the cafeteria.

And, then, because it made me feel better, I read Orwell’s thoughts on Dali.  He has a whole part about people who want to be geniuses, but they don’t know in what.  Their skills are fine, but how can they become majestic mysteries….the answer is wickedness.  He offers that wickedness is the one way where, in our culture, you get an instant pass to be officially “interesting.” I like this because it suggest that the firecracker friends (at least some) are using the mania as a cloak for an average or above average set of talents.

I know I am making my ego happier writing all this.  But, I doubt that is a good thing.

How do we get men who are sexist (and blind to it) to listen to the complaint without transforming (they do the transforming, it would be cool if I could) our words into nonsense, whining, or I don’t know, snowflakes, before it reaches their ears?

Harummph!

CF

PS: I actually like Spanx.

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