The Female Man (utgåvan 2010)

This book dragged me along with it kicking and screaming. I did not like it in the beginning or the middle or the end, I complained loudly the whole time I was reading it that it was a TERRIBLE and FRUSTRATING book and OH MY GOD WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE WRITTEN IN SUCH A FRAGMENTED, CONFUSING MANNER.

But by the time I finished it I was feeling a sense of accomplishment, as well as a sense that it had all been worthwhile, like I'd just run a marathon.

The good: seldom has a book been written that is so necessary. I am surrounded in real life by people who think feminism is a movement for times gone by, that we live in a post-sexist world where the genders are truly equal and nobody is disenfranchised for differences as petty as that which is between our legs. I'd like to throw Janet Evason at their faces. And of course Joanna. My lovely, angry, hyperarticulate Joanna who is the ball-busting bitch I've always wished I could be.

The bad: seldom has a book been written that is so fucking confusing. The short passages alternate between the points of view of the three main characters and an unknown fourth character, often with no way to distinguish between them much less tell which passage belongs to whose eyes. This isn't even the kind of weird writing you get used to as you read along. I wish this book had been written a little more accessibly.

The ugly: it hasn't aged well, this book hasn't. I don't mean that it is too shrill, too feminist, too radical or whatever. I mean it isn't feminist ENOUGH: like the typical 2nd wave work it is, it seems to have blinkers on that restrict its feminism to white western middle-class able-bodied "normal-looking" women. If there is so much anger to be found in this narrow segment of women, imagine how much anger seethes in the breasts of the rest? Then again, every writer is a product of her times, and every book is a product of its. It would be very unfair to hold this book to the standards of four decades later. So this shortcoming is forgiven: I'm only mentioning it as a caveat emptor for current readers.

( )

Righteous feminist
or, miserable ramblings
of an ass woman. ( )

"Woman is the gateway to another world; Woman is the earth-mother; Woman is the eternal siren; Woman is purity; Woman is carnality; Woman has intuition; Woman is the life-force; Woman is selfless love.
'I am the gateway to another world," (said I, looking in the mirror) 'I am the earth-mother; I am the eternal siren; I am purity,' (Jeez, new pimples) 'I am carnality; I have intuition; I am the life-force; I am selfless love.' (Somehow it sounds different in the first person, doesn't it?)"

It's an experience, it's worth reading, many of the ideas of second wave feminism present are still relevant today. Having said that, it's not enjoyable. Some might say that it's challenging, I would suggest it's obfuscating. On purpose, sure, but this type of surrealism and purposeful obtuseness annoys me more than anything else. Good ideas are made better by a clear narrative structure in my opinion, but maybe I'm just blind to its genius.

"Does it count if you love men's bodies but hate men's minds? Does it count if you still love yourself?" ( )

I think I wanted to like this much more than I did. It was published in 1975 and seems to have made its rounds as something of a classic feminist novel. It brings up a lot of the usual ideas in feminism, blaming the patriarchy, blaming women who agree with letting themselves be subjugated, and wondering what their role should be if they did cast off the yoke. These are, of course, the same issues still in circulation today.

This novel hasn't taken the rounds of a radicalized political feminist movement since then or has seen the schools all favor women over men since the 1980s, so it's fair to forgive the book for not having anticipated feminism's real rise or to discover that the pendulum can swing too far in either direction. This was written from the heart of someone lost in real disaffection.

The book, from a pure entertainment viewpoint, succeeds fine if you like stream-of-consciousness writing, letting us explore four different kinds of women from four alternate worlds, all of which could have been the same woman.

I think I liked the IDEA of this better than the execution. I also take a bit of umbrage at the lack of discussion about general dual-standards. Women's studies cannot be learned in a vacuum, no matter how much one might wish otherwise, and its narrative conclusions are almost embarrassingly naive. Conceptualized women-only societies could never be this uniform or simple. People are people, and we always make things difficult. It doesn't matter what sex we are.

Even so, I can still give props to this book for being at the past forefront of feminist thought. I just had to read it as if I was unearthing some historical curiosity and ignore the fact that another sex is almost completely missing from the pages except as a creature who brutalizes, rapes, or is the object of financial security for the woman who has no choice in this world but to marry.

Good points, all, but still unjust.

Not all men spout talk of equality but then refuse to listen before eventually attempting to rape the object of their attention. The opposite idea, where women can become just as militant and behave like assassins, rather defeats the purpose of equality as well. Just as women shouldn't have to behave like men to get along in a man's world, there is no talk about how men shouldn't have to behave like women to get along in a woman's world. My issue here is that there is no common ground. ( )

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck yes. ( )