“You have been a very foolish boy, wasting your time dreaming of impossible things when you speak of Mr. Pontellier setting me free! I am no longer one of Mr. Pontelliere’s possessions to dispose of or not. I give myself where I choose. If he were to say, ‘Here Robert, take her and be happy; she is yours,’ I should laugh at you both.”
― Kate Chopin, The Awakening
I like a new TV show! this never happens!
Thing I love about American Horror Story: if a man is a sexist prick to a woman, he INEVITABLY gets a nasty comeuppance. As soon as X made his crack about women and sandwiches, I was like, “Dude, you are going DOWN.” And I was SO RIGHT.
Hey all you naifs who reblogged this snippet! I “hearted” it (O modern nomenclature) and scrolled on, only to wonder later, Why the hell would Louis-Ferdinand Celine, genius and psycho, say something as soppy as that? Turns out he didn’t mean it to be that soppy. Context is a wonderful thing:
Woman is very troubled, because clearly she has every kind of known weakness. She needs … she wants to stay young. She has her menopause, her periods, the whole genital business, which is very delicate, it makes a martyr out of her, doesn’t it, so this martyr lives anyway, she bleeds, she doesn’t bleed, she goes and gets the doctor, she has operations, she doesn’t have operations, she gets re-operated, then in between she gives birth, she loses her shape, all that’s important. She wants to stay young, keep her figure, well. She doesn’t want to do a thing and she can’t do a thing. She hasn’t any muscle. It’s an immense problem … hardly recognized. It supports the beauty parlors, the quacks, and the druggists. But it doesn’t present an interesting medical situation, woman’s decline. It’s obviously a fading rose, you can’t say it’s a medical problem, or an agricultural problem. In a garden, when you see a rose fade, you accept it. Another one will bloom. Whereas in woman, she doesn’t want to die. That’s the hard part.
…..that doesn’t sound quite so Hallmarky, now does it?
(I unhearted it. The modern form of protest. I guess.)
Leaning her silly, beautiful, drunken head on my shoulder, she said, “Oh, Esther, I don’t want to be a feminist. I don’t enjoy it. It’s no fun.”
“I know,” I said. “I don’t either.” People think you decide to be a “radical,” for God’s sake, like deciding to be a librarian or a ship’s chandler. You “make up your mind,” you “commit yourself” (sounds like a mental hospital, doesn’t it?).
I said Don’t worry, we could be buried together and have engraved on our tombstone the awful truth, which some day somebody will understand:
WE WUZ PUSHED.Joanna Russ, On Strike Against God (which if you haven’t read it go out RIGHT THIS MINUTE and find it and read it NOW, it is that amazing)
Wow, that is the VERY FIRST COMMENT. The very first one. It’s always the very first comment in any kind of conversation about rape. BUT WHAT ABOUT THE FALSELY ACCUSED MEN. Let’s get attention off the sexually battered women and their actual pain and suffering and back onto a perceived loss of status for white men, where it belongs! Quickly!
Congratulations, you are that guy. You’re also an asshole.