Gender issues obviously loom large for writers.
What makes a male or female character convincing in terms of personality and behavior? It's a question that appears to be increasingly interesting -- and perhaps more problematic -- in the age of gender and occupational fluidity.
A couple of very recent articles, one in the Washington Post, and the other in the New York Times, shed some interesting light on this issue. Both are authored by writers.
In the first, "I love being a stay-at-home dad. And I still struggle with what it says about me as a man," Jason Basa Nembec, with commendable candor, agonizes on Father's Day over his decision to put his wife's lucrative career first. Intellectually, he's fine with it, but in his gut, it feels all wrong. He wishes masculinity could be "redefined."
A complementary article, "One Year on Testosterone," suggests it may not be easy. In it, the author, Linden Crawford, a person born as a woman who eventually discovers she is gay, begins taking testosterone because she wants to experience what it does for one even though she isn't interested in making a full transition. As a result, she begins to acquire some rather classic "alpha male" characteristics, perhaps of the sort Mr. Nembec above is trying to shed.
Nembec has a PhD in English with a focus on creative writing, but was unable to land a full-time teaching position at a university. "If I let myself think about it, I felt like a failure," he says. So he agreed to accommodate his wife's successful career in the retail industry by staying home and taking care of first one young daughter and then a second as well.
Although "an amazing privilege," the role has not squared well with Nembec's underlying makeup, which he appears to ascribe to cultural influences as opposed to human nature.
"Inside, I was starting to struggle big-time with my identity, measuring myself against some old-school societal notion of what makes a successful man" -- most notably, in his view, that a man should provide for his family. "It's a narrow notion of masculinity that I don't even believe in, yet can't fully break free from. Who knows what cultural mash-up of school friends, TV, movies and whatever else even built it."
Nembec tries to "reinvent himself" as a bartender but finds he can't work the necessary hours because of domestic needs and more than two-years into his unconventional stay-at-home role, "still sometimes feels deeply ashamed for not working to bring more income into our bank account."
"Unfortunately, shame doesn't hit me on a logical level. It's an internal voice that quickly gets visceral. It his me in the gut. It radiates out from my torso like a wound, sometimes twisting the tension in my neck into a migraine headache, sometimes bringing me to tears, sometimes both."
The bottom line: Nembec doesn't want to change. Rather, he wants the world to view masculinity, and, in particular, what it means to be strong, in a different light and then he'll be able to feel better about himself.
Turning to Crawford, who I have (with my apologies) referred to as "she" or "her" (because Crawford's preferred "they" is too confusing for most readers), it all started with a desire to experience what having a mustache might be like. That, in turn, eventually led to curiosity about taking testosterone in order to be bigger and stronger.
"What I wanted was virility, and I was afraid to admit it," Crawford says, while at the same time conceding she didn't want to become ugly and "felt guilty for squandering my feminine beauty and grace" even though she says she never identified with such traits.
So, while Nembec feels shame about failing to live up to conventional notions of masculinity in order to accommodate other priorities, Crawford experiences guilt about throwing away conventional notions of feminine appeal in pursuit of goals that conflict with such traits.
Shrugging off warnings of adverse reactions, Crawford begins applying a gel containing a low dose of testosterone and finds her physical strength and stamina soar.
Most significantly perhaps, in view of current criticisms of "toxic masculinity," Crawford says: "It's a bit disturbing to observe that the more masculine I feel, the freer I feel to do what I please, and not to do what merely pleases others."
The phrase "free to do what I please" brings to mind Donald Trump, Harvey Weinstein, and Jeffrey Epstein among a host of other conventional males, both contemporary and over the course of history, and in fiction as well as in life.
As she continues taking testosterone, Crawford finds she smiles less, finds it harder to cry, experiences more prolonged periods of irritation and experiences a sense of justified anger that is both empowering in the sense of being a call to action, but at the same time disturbing in the sense that it is a trait women don't generally enjoy.
"I am grateful to be more in touch with my anger, but also outraged that my sense of entitlement to such a basic emotion correlates with the amount of testosterone in my bloodstream."
There's a lot to think about here -- for readers, for writers and even for the authors of the two referenced articles -- since a lot what these authors discuss appears to be unresolved,
In addition, there is what Crawford calls "gender panic" among the general public -- emotions that set in when someone can't clearly identify another person as a male or female.
"I face gender panic constantly in my daily life and my work as a bartender," Crawford says. "Since it threatens my sense of safety as well as my rapport with customers, I've learned to monitor its progression carefully."
That's an interesting statement because a trait that runs far stronger in women than in men is a sense of vulnerability. So despite her testosterone-induced added strength, stamina and virility, Crawford retains a key underlying attribute of femininity.
Showing posts with label toxic masculinity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label toxic masculinity. Show all posts
Monday, June 22, 2020
Wednesday, March 20, 2019
Susanna's #MeToo Moment, Brought by Trinity Church
Back in the days of the Babylonian exile -- say around 550 bce -- one Jewish family is doing rather well. Joacim, a wealthy man and his very attractive wife, Susanna, live in a prominent house with a large garden through which a stream flows and in which large trees grow.
A couple of local elders, who, among other things, help sort out disputes in the community, often carry out their duties at Joacim's place and have become much taken with Susanna's charms. Joacim. to carry out his business, has to travel and is sometimes away from home.
Susanna likes to bath in the garden's stream and one day sends her servants inside to find some things she needs for her ablutions. Driven by lust, we are told, the two elders spot an opportunity, enter the garden and demand that Susanna have sex with them. If she refuses, they will claim to have caught her committing adultery with a younger man, who then escapes, and have her put to death, Susanna is told.
When it comes to #MeToo moments, it doesn't get much worse: toxic masculinity at the top of the patriarchy.
Susanna, an exceptionally virtuous woman who lives by the laws of Moses, refuses their advances, but with no one else around, knows the community will believe the elders and she will die.
Leaving readers in suspense for the moment, I will pause to note that George Fredric Handel put Susanna's story to music in 1749 -- one of his English language oratorios that were sung, but not acted. This was after Italian opera had fallen out of favor in London.
The very excellent baroque orchestra and choir of Manhattan's Trinity Church just put on a performance of "Susanna" in three parts, which readers can find here. Clicking on the appropriate links will stream the oratorio, part of an ongoing project by Trinity to perform all of Handel's bible-based oratorios, the most famous being "Messiah."
But back to Babylon.
Susanna is brought to public trial in which the respected elders serve as judges, prosecutors and witnesses. No one defends Susanna. (Joacim is not specifically mentioned in the Bible as being at the trial although Susanna's children and other family members are. In Handel's oratorio, he is depicted as hurrying home to his wife whom he believes is innocent, having heard news of the events from afar. "Is fair Susanna false? It ne're can be!" Joacim sings, with great conviction.)
But just as Susanna is condemned to death, a young man named Daniel steps forward and demands to question the elders separately as to what they saw in the garden. When they tell him different stories -- locating the alleged act of adultery under different trees -- the assembled public sees that they are lying and rather than Susanna, they are put to death. Just like that.
Daniel goes on to become one of the Bible's most important prophets.
The story of Susanna is a somewhat curious one as biblical scholar Jennifer A Glancy explains in her article "Susanna: Apocrypha." Interested readers can click on that link to discover why.
But what about Trinity Church's "Susanna?" I HIGHLY recommend it!
A couple of local elders, who, among other things, help sort out disputes in the community, often carry out their duties at Joacim's place and have become much taken with Susanna's charms. Joacim. to carry out his business, has to travel and is sometimes away from home.
Susanna likes to bath in the garden's stream and one day sends her servants inside to find some things she needs for her ablutions. Driven by lust, we are told, the two elders spot an opportunity, enter the garden and demand that Susanna have sex with them. If she refuses, they will claim to have caught her committing adultery with a younger man, who then escapes, and have her put to death, Susanna is told.
When it comes to #MeToo moments, it doesn't get much worse: toxic masculinity at the top of the patriarchy.
Susanna, an exceptionally virtuous woman who lives by the laws of Moses, refuses their advances, but with no one else around, knows the community will believe the elders and she will die.
Leaving readers in suspense for the moment, I will pause to note that George Fredric Handel put Susanna's story to music in 1749 -- one of his English language oratorios that were sung, but not acted. This was after Italian opera had fallen out of favor in London.
The very excellent baroque orchestra and choir of Manhattan's Trinity Church just put on a performance of "Susanna" in three parts, which readers can find here. Clicking on the appropriate links will stream the oratorio, part of an ongoing project by Trinity to perform all of Handel's bible-based oratorios, the most famous being "Messiah."
But back to Babylon.
Susanna is brought to public trial in which the respected elders serve as judges, prosecutors and witnesses. No one defends Susanna. (Joacim is not specifically mentioned in the Bible as being at the trial although Susanna's children and other family members are. In Handel's oratorio, he is depicted as hurrying home to his wife whom he believes is innocent, having heard news of the events from afar. "Is fair Susanna false? It ne're can be!" Joacim sings, with great conviction.)
But just as Susanna is condemned to death, a young man named Daniel steps forward and demands to question the elders separately as to what they saw in the garden. When they tell him different stories -- locating the alleged act of adultery under different trees -- the assembled public sees that they are lying and rather than Susanna, they are put to death. Just like that.
Daniel goes on to become one of the Bible's most important prophets.
The story of Susanna is a somewhat curious one as biblical scholar Jennifer A Glancy explains in her article "Susanna: Apocrypha." Interested readers can click on that link to discover why.
But what about Trinity Church's "Susanna?" I HIGHLY recommend it!
Saturday, January 26, 2019
Thom Browne, a Man of the Hour, Deconstructs Masculinity
Well, this isn't about fiction, but it is very topical.
Traditional masculinity, often characterized as "toxic masculinity," is under assault as never before, in large part as a result of the Me Too Movement. One reads piece after piece these days about how men, and society as a whole, needs to re-examine and re-work just what it means to be a male.
Enter American fashion designer Thom Browne with his latest menswear runway show in Paris. (Click on that link to get a look).
Basically what Browne did this time around was quite literally deconstruct tradition menswear and sew various pieces back together to create new looks. While some commentators described these as "dresses" or "gowns," they look to me more like "un-bifurcated garments." But the point seems obvious: men need to take themselves apart and put themselves back together in a different form in order to successfully adapt to social change.
But what about Browne himself? He seems stuck in the mold of wearing mostly very traditional, precisely tailored men's suits and related garments.
So the message remains at best a mixed one.
Traditional masculinity, often characterized as "toxic masculinity," is under assault as never before, in large part as a result of the Me Too Movement. One reads piece after piece these days about how men, and society as a whole, needs to re-examine and re-work just what it means to be a male.
Enter American fashion designer Thom Browne with his latest menswear runway show in Paris. (Click on that link to get a look).
Basically what Browne did this time around was quite literally deconstruct tradition menswear and sew various pieces back together to create new looks. While some commentators described these as "dresses" or "gowns," they look to me more like "un-bifurcated garments." But the point seems obvious: men need to take themselves apart and put themselves back together in a different form in order to successfully adapt to social change.
But what about Browne himself? He seems stuck in the mold of wearing mostly very traditional, precisely tailored men's suits and related garments.
So the message remains at best a mixed one.
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