WHAT ARE WOMEN FIGHTING ABOUT?

women.jpg

Women are often the cruellest critics of other female writers. Where does this anger come from, and at what expense? Emily Gould considers her own frustrations, as reader and writer ...

Special to MORE INTELLIGENT LIFE

At a party over the summer I bumped into a woman whose personality is less familiar to me than her byline. We'd only been chatting for a minute when she asked me what I thought of a recent novel. As is often the case when someone asks for your opinion, this woman didn't really want to know what I thought—rather, she wanted to tell me what she thought, and that she was reviewing the book for someplace prestigious. "The novel is just terrible," she said.  "Oh my god, right?" I responded, because we were at a party and it was too loud and hot and late in the evening to bother saying what I'd really thought. But the next morning I felt that I'd done the novel—and the woman who wrote it, and women in general—some intangible cosmic harm in my tipsy trash-talking.

I resolved to set the record straight. I'll do so now: I did not think  "A Fortunate Age" by Joanna Smith Rakoff was terrible, not at all. In fact, I found it well-paced and full of extraordinarily acute physical description. But I did hate it. I hated it in the same bitterly guilty way I'd hate a person—a woman, really—who'd garnered some prize that I hadn't been in the running for, that I hadn't been qualified to win and, moreover, that I would have been loathe to admit to desiring. I hated its characters, a cadre of upper-class women who all went to the same prestigious college, settled in a trendy Brooklyn neighbourhood when it was still a bit gritty (but already had a couple of decent brunch places), and had romantic intrigues that, while occasionally unconventional (if anal sex can still be said to be unconventional), wended their way inexorably towards marriage-and-babies happy endings (for the "good" characters). I even hated how Rakoff nailed the locations, the outfits and the other trappings of bourgeois post-collegiate faux poverty in late-millenial Brooklyn, because I felt that she used this accumulation of petty accuracies to paper over a false big picture.

This is what I mean by a false big picture: a character in "A Fortunate Age" who has fallen on hard times is rescued from an accident by an amiable doctor with whom she is vaguely acquainted. When she wakes up in her hospital bed, the amiable doctor is kneeling by her bed and proposing marriage! He has long loved her from afar. As she says yes, she thinks to herself that she'll never have to worry about anything ever again, and then, for the remainder of the book, she doesn't.  

This retrogressive plot point can be explained, sort of: the book was modelled on Mary McCarthy's  "The Group". But, per its cover copy, "A Fortunate Age" is meant to update "The Group" for Rakoff's generation. This is not my own generation, but it's close enough for me to feel discomfort at her insistence that so little has changed since 1963. Does Rakoff (whose author bio mentions her husband and children as prominently as her graduate degrees in a way few male authors would) really believe that a modern, educated, cosmopolitan, adult woman in her late 20s would happily marry a semi-stranger? And, more importantly, do her readers? That, ultimately, is the source of my horror: the idea that this book will be taken as a representative portrait of women who are somewhat like me. Beneath that worry lurks a more disturbing one: are they–am I–really like that?

So I become, once more, the kind of person I can't bear: the female critic who despises any female writer who doesn't project what she feels is the accurate or ideal vision of modern womanhood. This critic believes it is her job to tear down women who are "off-message" because there is only so much publishing space allotted to women, and so more attention for them is less attention for her and other worthy types. This critic lives inside us all, but she is also embodied, occasionally, by real people. One of them, an online "feminist" columnist, once wrote a supposed defense of  “women’s voices” that dismissed something I’d written because the photos that accompanied the essay were of me lying (rather unprovocatively, to my mind) in bed. She'd said that the question wasn't why my voice was being heard–the implied answer being, presumably, my bed-lying ways–but why others weren't, "in a media landscape in which there are a severely limited number of spaces for women's writing voices."  

Is this a real cause for concern? Is there really limited space for women's writing voices? Some people, myself included, have pointed out that there is unlimited internet real estate available to anyone with the modicum of pioneering spirit necessary for staking out a URL. The opportunity for women's writing to reach a wide audience online is limitless, at least in theory. Of course, the preponderance of bylines in the most august–and the most high-paying–magazines and newspapers are still male. But as those dinosaurs fade into obscurity, the scales will naturally shift in women's favour. Unless, of course, they won't. It's just possible that they won't.

A male writer once told me, in a moment of ill-advised but unforgettable honesty, that when it comes to books, "boys compete with boys and girls compete with girls, like the Olympics." Much as I'd like it to be otherwise, this is demonstrably at least somewhat true. And no matter how many times some writer–female, always–writes a piquant, well-reasoned op-ed about this phenomenon, it will remain true that carefully observed, quietly funny, romantic stories about friends, love, work and families will be marketed and reviewed as "chick lit" or "literary chick lit" if they are by women and as "coming of age stories" or "astute psychological realism" if they are by men.

Maybe it is time to acknowledge that this is not some conspiracy on the part of the publishing industry or of the patriarchy and admit to ourselves that writers like Joanna Smith Rakoff are giving women what they want. A character who erases her debt and her crappy lifestyle by saying "yes" to the nice doctor may not be a good spokeswoman for her generation, but there are certainly real women who have made similar choices, and quite a few who wouldn't mind the chance. The author who created this character didn't condemn her. Must I? Only, it seems, if I reflexively anoint her, and her creator, with the burden of being symbolic and representative.  If I allow them to just speak for themselves alone, I find that my hatred dissipates and I can relax and enjoy the book’s undeniable pleasures.

I can enjoy them, that is, for a moment. And then I remember, again, the kernel of truth at the heart of that columnist’s infuriating declaration that only a handful of women’s writing voices are heard, and that those prominent voices are too often salacious, self-revealing, “unfeminist”, or otherwise unworthy. Wrong as she is, she is right about one thing: women have not yet come so far that we can shrug off worries about being misrepresented. 

It is tempting to feel resentful when we don’t see ourselves or our stories or our ideals reflected in the prevailing narratives of femaleness. Luckily, there is an alternative: instead of simply criticising other women’s stories, we can take it upon ourselves to make sure that our own stories get told. Creating something takes a lot more effort than writing a bad review or a dismissive blog post. But if we don’t make that effort, if instead we keep insisting that a mere handful of female writers are qualified to speak for us, we'll miss out on the larger truths that are to be found somewhere in the chorus.

 

Picture credit: genibee (via Flickr)

(Emily Gould's first book of essays, "And the Heart Says Whatever" will be published by Free Press in May 2010. Her blog is emilymagazine.com.)

books  ISSUES & IDEAS  

Comments

just by criticizing the work


just by criticizing the work of other women you are giving more hype to that female work's rather then concentration on how to get your work more popular among the people

Good Work -- Talk to Eudora


I think this is a good and honest piece. Of course I'm a boy so I don't have as much at stake. That said, it made me think of Eudora Welty's "must the novelist crusade" essay.

I think Welty gave a well reasoned argument for why the notion of any writer staying "on message" is counter productive to the whole fiction project. I wrote a little something about Welty's essay here: http://www.thistoowillpass.com/bradydale/wordpress/?p=875
But to read the whole thing you're going to have to go to print. I never could find it entirely on-line. Darn copyrights!

Anyway, I think her essay gives context to this piece, but it is, really, a separate point.

wellll


So now Gould writes for More Intelligent Life...gah-reat

Hmm.


This blog post falls victim to the classic "I have no idea how to wrap up" dilemma. Emily tossed off a "solution" that brings up more problems than the nattering on she does earlier about women hating women (yawn). Maybe the solution is to stop hating women, which seems, actually, far more simple to do than 'making sure our own stories get told'. Not everyone is interested in that, and even if they were, Emily should possess the knowledge that the publishing industry quite often seeks out male stories over women stories, and so if there is a dearth of 'our stories', it is somewhat due to a flaw in the structure.

Also, only a fool would think that lying on a bed for an author photo isn't provocative. I mean, do it, and all power to you, but don't act silly and ignorant of the purpose of it. It comes off very Meghan McCain-y.

it's not like books written by men are much better


"it will remain true that carefully observed, quietly funny, romantic stories about friends, love, work and families will be marketed and reviewed as "chick lit" or "literary chick lit" if they are by women and as "coming of age stories" or "astute psychological realism" if they are by men."

I tend to disagree - I'd describe such books by men as "lightweight" and "laddish." Who needs more of this kind of thing (young, relatively wealthy, white people who live in NY) from anyone, man or woman. None of these kinds of books is going to hold up over time - I have to assume they'll all be showing their age in about 2 years and seem horribly dated in 10.

Oh, sweet irony


The irony of this article is that she says not to tear apart other women's work and illustrates this by tearing apart another woman's work.

The New Feminism


As theoretical schools of thought (such as feminism) become more and more imbedded in the upper levels of institutions (whether in academics or in publishing houses or in museums), there is increasing need for rising generations to look critically and ask what is still alive in the tenets of the movements and what is merely fodder for a party line.

This is a long response, because the issues Gould raises have preyed on me for a long while. Thus I have a couple of points:

I see Gould’s opening comments about the cocktail party as an example of an established figure using Feminism as a way of imposing an ideal onto a market reality-definition of womanhood. - - I think myself typical of a rising generation of women who want to be taken seriously by men and women regardless of my dress inclination towards coloured skirts, earrings and the like - - but I think that using difference – such as Gould lying on the bed – is an acknowledgment of inclinations (that whether by design, birth, or imprinting) add variety to the world - - yet, this new need to be feminine and Feminist is not truly understood and feeds into the spring-break-girls-gone-wild mentality of empowerment through a dubious display of sexual liberation.

Articles like Gould’s are important for this reason – what do we want out of liberation? How do we deal with the fact that art is both a mirror for and more often an ideal projection over reality – and once something is expressed – why tare it to pieces because it is not what we want of the world?

In short – do we provoke the status quo by reflecting it? I think the citric is right to be hard on another female author, if she feels the author exploits rather than engages popular tastes – and yet, exploiting trends has a place on best-selling bookshelves, just not as great literature.

Liking another woman or her work, and suppressing the instincts to fight for an accolade (or man) can take two forms: one feeds from insecurity and the second from a high standard held by women for women. In all walks of life, men often go soft on women just as women are want to dismiss male disagreeability – ‘boys will be boys’. This is a natural romanticization of gender otherness – it is part of what feeds raw attraction. And so while I disagree with the female critic taking down Mary McCarthy for Feminist reasons, I think that an arena of women with women criticism is necessary – because it is appraising from a similar specificity the rigours of artistic production; and thus is immune to the dismissal: that an outsider looking in does not understand all the facts.

I crave female perspectives and despite my great love for modern male writers, such as Italo Calvino, Elias Cannetti and so on, I feel periodically alienated by their perspectives – thus I need to dive into Muriel Spark like a traveller returning home - - thus I hope that seriousness is allotted to all, but that there is an arena of women who feel and understand the pressures of womanhood – there will always be need of a high standard held by women for woman - - and so rather than see it as in-fighting (which only furthers the hated Desperate Housewives stereotypes) I would hope that women combat insecurity in their criticism, but not degrade all woman-woman harshness as bitch-slapping.

Anyone who has spent time in an all-female environment knows (even if deep down) that the Olympic games gender-segregation being carried through to the publishing (or any competitive) arena for women is true. And isn’t this the result of feminist agendas? – for it reflects women’s desires to participate where men participate according to the strengths of their own specific conditions of experiencing being alive - - this is the bottom line of the gifts of Hayden White and the rest of the post-structuralist echelon (if they are in fact gifts, which still needs to similarly explored). Acting indigent to it is a strange understanding of what we want as intellectually active ‘women’ not pseudo-men or genderless beings – and even if we achieved genderless-ness, would we want it?

I have never seen a


I have never seen a grammatical error in any Economist article except this one - 5th paragraph, 3rd last line - 'aN representation' ... and i am a woman, so good to dirty on another woman! ... pathetic. woman are bad, but not this bad. grow up.

fixed


- EB

"chick lit" or otherwise


As a non-writer first and man second, I do have an interest in reading books.

I can't really say if I prefer male or female authors except to comment that (females) in the past they tended to stick with what they knew (Amy Tan et al) or what they didn't (Christie).

I never really chose a book (with a pre-conception) because of the author's gender. I like sci-fi but am equally happy with LeGuinn or McCaffrey as I am with Clarke or Simak.

I've never read either Wolfe (except for watching The Hours) and won't/can't comment on the so-called "serious fiction" - I read books for escapism and entertainment - if I want facts, or insights into the human condition, I usually look elsewhere.

girls


I want to draw a distinction between girls and women. Women are people who think about other people as a form of balancing their own self-absorption. They are people who have experienced both pleasure and pain. They are functional citizens of our world. Then there are girls, like this girl, who is writing this essay, and who has now (by my count) spent five years promising herself -- and by extension us -- that she isn't going to do this anymore, isn't going to tell everyone everything about her intellectual innards. I met the writer once briefly at a party. I was seeing a guy who knew her. I'd like to say that she seemed pleasant enough but she didn't. She seemed troubled, like she had built herself a little cage and forgotten where she put the door. There are several things I think about her, but I'll only say that I feel sorry.

Honestly, that novel sounds


Honestly, that novel sounds horrible.

And no, no woman would marry a stranger who didn't have the courage to approach her when well and then ask for her hand when she's in the hospital.

Women are mean to Women


Imagine that.

Who would think it.

Just remember, everyone wants universal brotherhood, but, no one is his right mind, wants universal sisterhood.

...suggesting it should


...suggesting it should perhaps be renamed Less Intelligent Life.

Stephen King misrepresented me (I'm a carnivorous car)


The problem begins when people read a book, and upon not liking it decide to, rather than merely lay the book aside, obsess over how such a personal offense to their sensibility ever was published at all. The meddling machine is set in motion.

Now the reader becomes so concerned about controlling media representations that they consciously plot to gain control of representations and misrepresentations of femaleness (or some other "ness"). Given hard work and good fortune they may actually succeed in thoroughly politicizing, or sectionalizing, or crony-izing, literature to such a truly and satisfyingly suffocating extent that misrepresentations will be the only representations in literature. Getting an honest "representation" out of an agenda-carrier is about as likely as getting a photograph out of a paintbrush.

Literature is not a mirror. Or, rather, it is not your mirror.

women vs women


Women are more critical of other women; period. Where y'all been?

This is junk. The writer


This is junk. The writer asserts that "only a handful of women’s writing voices are heard", but if you replace "women" with "men", the sentence remains just as true. No doubt in certain areas women are published less than men, but in other areas women are ahead. If there are fewer women published in so-called "literary" fiction (and I'm not sure there are), maybe this desire to rigorously enforce the "sisterhood" line is the cause. Less identity politics, more individuality, that's what's needed.

Women competing with women...


The biggest single overlooked feature in our society is women competing with women. This is the feminist elephant in the room.

I've known women who have slept with a friend's husband just to have something over her buddy. Most of our consumeristic society is fueled by women competing with women. Someone got a new bathroom. Ooooh. Now the other one gets a new kitchen. And, so on. Fashions, furniture, homes, so much is fueled by this.

This article points this out right in the beginning, but then meanders off somewhere else. (Not sure where, actually.)

Thin-ness is all about competing with other women. Men like curves, and some flesh. Men aren't demanding this. This is about women competing with other women.

As Van Morrison said, 'all the girls walk by dressed up for each other'.

I'm not judging


From the toss-off comment at the party to the critique veiled as setting a wrong right...stop already. The only bad thing here is this tepid essay. Like the moronic phrase lately issued primarily by women "I'm not judging but..." it's just another case of a woman trying to look earnestly truly decent and humane while sniping in a passive agressive way. First, there is nothing wrong with criticizing a book - for pity's sake, if it sucks, it sucks. But this need to have everyone think you are fair and just and yet - a far better writer and no doubt more intuitive and yet somehow, sensitive and concerned...yawn. Wake up, my fellow women, this is getting old.

Comment on the Comments


I liked the post earlier about the New Feminism and I have been disappointed that many of the people commenting since have responded to the article and not its issues in a petty and short-sighted way.

Regardless of the merits of the article - it raises discussions that could be fruitful to understanding the nature of what it is like to be a woman in the specific conditions of our current time . . . and reading men writing silly comments about the inevitability of female-female competition disappoints me deeply - why not look at this as an opportunity instead of as an airing ground to half-baked prejudices?

grammar


"woman are bad"?

genius ironic joke or just ironic joke?

I don't like that bedside


I don't like that bedside marriage plot because that has never happened to anyone, at any time, in any parallel universe, ever.

It's not bad because it's anti-feminist. It's bad because it's stupid and lazy. It's bad for the same reason that Chrichton ignoring the fact that his main character DIED in the previous book and reviving him for the sequel is bad: because it makes the indispensable prerequisite for fiction - the suspension of disbelief - impossible for anyone to reasonably maintain.

It's bad for the same reason flunking a test is bad: it proves you didn't do your homework.

more comments on comments


Read A Fortunate Age before you spout off condemning nonsense about it. It's an ambitious, smart, expansive novel that has six main characters and covers the better part of a decade. It has more in common with Galsworthy and Wharton than contemporary fiction. Harping on that one plot point--which is intentionally modeled directly on The Group--does the book a disservice. And no more far fetched than how one character dies. It's unexpected as a device in a novel, but it happens all the time in life.

Also, Gould is absolutely right, some critics are clouded by jealousy and chide overly ambitious writers who happen to be women. And more should be discussed about it.

A Fortunate Age


A Fortunate Age is the work of a talented writer who was somehow inspired to turn her promising, ambitious novel into some kind of Sex in the City-inspired piece of fluff that would presumably be easier to market. The surprise proposal in the hospital is just one of several examples of the book's lazy, unsatisfying ending.

If I may wager a guess as to why this happened, perhaps Joanna Smith Rakoff gave up on the idea of producing something more literary because the "smart" boys would ignore it, the "smart" girls would scoff regardless, and its publication scope would not reach Chick Lit readers. What a shame.

oh, visitor


Now you're just talking out of your ass. The book is not chick lit. And the idea of it being "more" literary is laughable. It's a straight literary novel, and if you'd paid attention, you'd see it wasn't marketed or targeted solely for women at all by the publisher, and if you knew anything about writers, you'd know no one thinks in those mercenary terms. She simply wrote the book she wanted to read, over six years, with no hope other than to finish it.

There's also another irony that Gould missed--I recall Rakoff has reviewed books a long time, and after a few minutes on lexis-nexis, it looks as if she was equally generous and enthusiastic to writers of both genders. She wrote a story on Franzen championing The Corrections before anyone. Her book has more in common with Franzen's book than any dumbass tv show.

I will say more firmly that if she were a man, we wouldn't be having this discussion. Of course, the idiots would then be screeching the same things they did with Keith Gessen or Kunkel, et al, even Franzen. Go look at their Amazon pages and see for yourself.

It's OK to criticise


To say that a criticism of this novel by another woman is inherantly anti feminist is in my view, buying into the old attitude that women are too weak and defenceless to protect themselves. Emily Gould buys into this notion by implying that her criticism is actually deceitful.

If the novel has weaknesses, it's OK to offer a literary judgement about its credibility and whether certain passages worked or not.

To say that some women are out there to get you is probably right, just as it's absolutely correct to say that there are men who view women in powerful or successful positions with envy and fear.

A note to Emily. You chose to have yourself photographed in bed while taking part in an interview of your professional life. It's OK to criticise your judgement. But that can be done free of spite, or personal abuse.

It is a bit different


It is a bit different on-line. You never can tell who is doing the writing until they show you a video or meet them in person. That happens, of course, and you can still frequently tell the difference between men and women... but anyway.

This doesn't strike me as much more than a tactic that's just as common on the male side of things - wanting to stir up controversy, gain attention, and profit from that. It is an old, tried and true tactic, and I haven't seen many mental or social tricks that women will never do... just with different probabilities.

yes


Yes. Grow up. And not just grammatically.

got sisterhood?


What good would universal sisterhood do? Would we have to read more critical essays about the predicament of universal sisterhood?

which corroborates the article


I'm afraid that literary gossip is not exculpatory in this instance.

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