Complacency Interrupted

Attempting to "do" cultural studies...critique, analysis, and commentary. How am I doing Theodor??

06 August 2006

On the continuance of glaring omissions

After reading the New York Times online version for the last two to three weeks, I have come across to articles about the state of men in the United States that I just can't let pass by without a few remarks.

First, and most recently, is a story in the National news section entitled, "Facing Middle Age with No Degree and No Wife" (NYT 6 August 2006). The story discusses the situation of a growing number of American men who are remaining single well into their 40s, and their inability to find a wife. The article links this trend to various other phenomena, including the fact that these single men are most often not college graduates, usually blue collar workers (although some are thoroughly entrenched in the middle class), and afraid of alternatively divorce or committment. The article also blames the higher standards of single women, who are getting college degrees at a faster rate than men and who seek men with higher degrees, and "hence better financial prospects." The NYT also cites some "experts" who claim that "the greater economic independence of women and the greater acceptance of couples living together outside of marriage" have contributed to the declining marriage rate.

The rate in question, according to the Times, is "about 18 percent of men ages 40 to 44 with less than four years of college." The article goes on to argue that "That is up from about 6 percent a quarter-century ago. Among similar men ages 35 to 39, the portion jumped to 22 percent from 8 percent in that time." And to add icing to the cake, the Times notes that "even marriage rates among female professionals over 40 have stabilized in recent years." Even older professional ball-busting career women can get married, why can't these dopes?

There are many aspects of this article that make my stomach lurch, but of course, that lurching has to do more with what the Times didn't say or didn't bother to factor into their analysis, rather than what was actually included in the article. Although, the article itself is pretty bad.

Firstly, the four page piece fails to acknowledge how many of those 18 percent of men who are still single in their 40s are, in fact, not interested in marrying a woman because well, they just don't swing that way. No where does the Times account for how many of these men might be gay, transgendered, queer, celibate, or otherwise not invested in the Christian dictum of marriage. These men, assuming that some of them might actually not be heterosexual, would have been coming out in the 1970s and 80s - arguably one of the most importantly visible times for the LGBT community. But the Times refuses to acknowledge this possibility. If you will induldge some highly suspect number crunching, if 18 percent are still single, and roughly 6 to 10 percent of the population is gay, this means that there are possibly only 8 to 12 percent of heterosexual men who are still unmarried.

If you consider this configuration suspect, as I myself do, let us take another step back and ask why this matters? Why should we be concerned that people aren't getting married as frequently as they used to? If you listen to Pat Robertson, or even George W. Bush, this lack of married people contributes to the degredation of the US's moral fiber. But then again, so do gays. And feminists. And pro-choice activists, intellectuals, liberals, welfare queens, immigrants, environmentalists, socialists, and communists. Apparently the only people who don't contribute to this decay are white, middle class, married Christians - but don't they have some of the highest divorce rates in the world??

This article confuses me, and I don't know why the NYT insisted on devoting four pages to the declining marriage rates of older men. But in this article contributes to the spectre of fear of disappearance that haunts the heterosexual white male in US culture. A continuing backlash and anxiety attack over what is to become of red blooded American men, now that they are being displaced to the peripherals of society (apparently). Funny, when women and people of color were pushed to the periphery, we didn't have articles debating why they didn't get married with as much frequency as their hegemonic counterparts.

Perhaps these unmarried men should exchange their unworthy jobs for wives and a comfortable life of leisure, as the men in "Men Not Working and Not Wanting Just Any Job" did (NYT, 31 July 2006).

In this article, reporter Amanda Cox profiles several men in their forties and fifties who are currently unemployed and are not actively seeking work because they cannot find a job that is neither "demeaning nor underpaid" and instead rely on disability payments from the government, taking out multiple mortgages on their homes, or relying on their (female) spouses for financial income. Instead of working or looking for work, they spend their days playing piano, reading books, doing crossword puzzles, or sitting at cafes.

Unlike the women (most likely their mothers) who have the luxury or ability stay at home while a spouse works outside of the home, these men do not take up domestic duties, preferring to spend their time with hobbies. Apparently, laundry and cleaning is also demeaning and underpaid - who knew?

Most of the men profiled in the article are without children, or more accurately, are not required to support any children. Most of them are also white. The NYT calls them "America's Missing Men." Huh? They're not missing at all. Chances are they're still in bed (if it's before 11 am) or sitting on their ass somewhere, probably in close proximity to a television.

Loquacious gems from these missing men include:

“I have come to realize that my free time is worth a lot to me,” says Alan Beggerow, 48, of Illinois, who draws his standard of living from the second mortgage on his house and his family's savings. Yes, but Mr. Beggerow, how much is it worth to your wife and your child? His wife used to do factory work, until an accident forced her to leave. She now takes on freelance seamstress and baking work, as well as selling items on Ebay for a fee. She is looking for a clerical job, in order to earn a steady paycheck, as the money she receives from her disability payments cannot support her and her husband. “The future is always a concern, but I no longer allow myself to dwell on it,” Mr. Beggerow says. Huh?

"To be honest, I’m kind of looking for the home run,” says Christopher Priga, 54, of California. His income also comes from drawing money against his house in Los Angeles. After being let-go from Xerox in the blow up of the dot-com bubble, Priga is tired of grunt work and prefers to spend his time reading at local cafes.

Near the end of the article, the focus turns to those men who are excluded from the jobmarket because of felony convictions and jail time. But this avenue only affords half of the last page. Rather than draw attention to the systemic discrimination in the prison system and how any links to serving time can severly hinder an applicant's chances in this racist and classist jobmarket, the article spends most of its time profiling men who have been let go from their employment because of economic shifts. Since the 1980's, the American economy has moved away from industrial processing and factory work, and thereby making many men and women redundant and unemployed. This is a tragedy and an immense diservice to the working class of the US, prioritizing high profit margins over community sustainability, but this aspect is also absent from the article's analysis.

What really gets me, though, more than anything in this article, is the extremely gendered representation of work in this country that is reflected in these men's choices to abstain from work. Women have been in support positions and are continually forced to engage in unpaid labor in the form of housework and family care, and now more than ever, women are taking on work outside of the home in addition to this support/domestic work. Beggerow's wife takes care of the home, and her husband, and also manages to do freelance work and search for a clerical job. Additionally, it is her disability payments that keep the household running. Why can't Mr. Beggerow or Mr. Priga flip burgers? Why can't they wash dishes? Drive a taxi? Sell groceries, waitress (intentionally gendered), babysit, do laundry, pick up garbage? As someone who is about to approach the job market once again after having taken a year off to complete a master's degree, I am desperate for any job. The social regard for my degree does not place me above doing whatever work I can find. The only job I won't do is clean the floor of a nightclub with my tongue on Monday morning...but that's a whole other set of issues. Perhaps my perspective is a little different, being in my twenties, having mounting school debts and the prospect of marriage and family on the very near horizon. I've worked nearly continuously since I was 17, and I'm terrified of starting my career. But that won't keep me from working.

These men have worked, have spent twenty and thirty years working. And everyone is due a break at some point. But being able to not work because of retirement and pension is a whole hell of a lot different than refusing to work because you can't find a job that you don't feel is demeaning or beneath you. And being retired is a whole hell of a lot different that drawing on public disability and social security funds to avoid having to pay child support (which one would have to do if one had a paycheck) or to avoid working a job that isn't exactly what you want. I applaud Mrs. Beggerow for having the personal strength to scour the classified/help-wanted ads while her husband reads another history of the crusades on the front porch. I personally would have launched a crusade of my own to kick him out of the house.

Stories available from:

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/08/06/us/06marry.html?pagewanted=4&ei=5087%0A&en=198334593b14608d&ex=1155009600

and

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/08/06/us/06marry.html?pagewanted=4&ei=5087%0A&en=198334593b14608d&ex=1155009600

Of Superheroes and Tights


As a nice sequel to my previous blog (and after all, aren'’t these movies really all about the sequels anyway), I thought I would share my thoughts on the latest “superhero movie to hit the mass market, Ivan Reitman's "My Super Ex-Girlfriend."

Notable differences between "Superman Returns” and "My Super Ex-Girlfriend" are as follows:

1. Uma Thurman as blonde goddess versus Brandon Routh as dark Atlas

2. Luke Wilson versus Kate Bosworth as the damsel-in-distress

3. Fishnet stockings and black leather bustiers versus plastic/metal mesh protective suit

4. Crazy superhero sex versus chaste and infantile infatuation*

In summation, "My Super Ex Girlfriend” takes the superhero formula and runs it through the misogynistic Freudian blender of shame. The plot concerns Matt Saunders, a thirty-something architect six months removed from his last 'psycho' girlfriend. Encouraged by his closest friend, Saunders approaches a woman on the subway, asking her out on a date. She quickly turns him down, and immediately has her purse stolen. Saunders, being the handsome gallant, runs after the thief and recovers the purse. The woman is Jenny Johnson, a curator at an art gallery and also G Girl, the local superhero to whom no one seems to really pay attention. Unlike Superman, who commands the hearts and minds (and media) of those around him, G Girl mostly remains out of the limelight, commanding name recognition but without any fuss. The Colin Powell to Superman's Dubya.

Saunders and Johnson begin dating, and the romantic comedy formula swings into full effect. Also in effect are the rampant cliches of the superhero paradigm, including secret identities, a super-villain, contact with an unearthly mineral, and that noxious pair of plastic rimmed glasses. However, the normal restrictions on the romantic line of a superhero narrative, such as the necessity of maintaining a secret identity and of selflessly giving oneself to the larger cause of justice and protection of the people, are absent. G Girl is consumed with her relationship to Saunders, revealing her 'true’ identity about a third of the way through the film. When Saunders realizes the implications of his relationship with G Girl, his concern is not with how this might affect her ability to do the work she is supposed to do (think Mary Jane and Spiderman) but with how this will boost his status in the dating circuit. At one point, he wants to tell his best friend that he is dating G Girl, saying that the friend once slept with a Victoria's Secret model and Saunders has "never heard the end of it." By sleeping with a superhero, Saunders has bypasses his friend in sociosexual status.

Eventually, G Girl begins to suspect that Saunders is cheating on her with a coworker, and in one ridiculous scene refuses to stop a missile from crashing into the “tri-state area” because she doesn’t trust Saunders to be alone with Hannah, his coworker. He manages to convince her, but she goes only reluctantly. Unlike Superman, G Girl will not give herself up to the cause, preferring to keep an eye on her man rather than on the welfare of the world.

Saunders has to break up with G Girl - she’s a neurotic crazy person, and he's really in love with Hannah anyway. G Girl then goes on a rampage, throwing his car into orbit in space and a live shark into the bedroom where he and Hannah are cuddling in post-coital bliss. After several twists and turns, and a climatic showdown involving Eddie Izzard and a giant refrigerated meteor, G Girl gives up her revenge quest and Hannah and Saunders are allowed to live happily ever after. Aahhhh, deep cleansing breath.



This film is exactly as sexist as it sounds. Thurman'’s G Girl is a raging, castrating lunatic - after the first time Saunders and G Girl have sex, she looks at the wreckage around her, including a broken bed, and says, "I’m sorry. I’ll get you a new one.”

Saunders replies with "A new bed or penis?"

"Both,” she answers breathlessly. G Girl not only takes the dominant position during sex, but she breaks his genitals. The next day, Saunders walks awkwardly to work, attempting to deal with the physical discomfort of the previous night’s encounter. Indeed G Girl’s only redeeming feature seems to be her incredible physical attractiveness. Saunders never says how sweet she is, or how smart, or how interesting. Only that she is hot and she "broke his bed” (this after his friend comments, "You have invaded the female and spread your democracy." Seriously. He says that.). Every sexual encounter between them puts him on edge, including when she takes him up into the stratosphere with him. Margot Kidder he is not. He is never energized or in awe of his superhero mate - he is only afraid. "I'’m feeling a little emasculated up here,” he says, eyeing the ground nervously.

If that's not literal enough, there are any number of references to Saunder's manhood, including when she burns the word "dick” into his forehead with her laser vision and when she threatens to shove a chainsaw "up his ass" if he ever reveals her superhero identity. She is both castrating and sodomizing, needy and neurotic. And despite the numerous sexist cliches aimed at male characters, G Girl's outbursts become the crazy to Saunder's centered rationality. She is the extreme to Saunder's normative in more ways than one. Saunders is just a regular guy in the wrong place at the wrong time. Only when he is with Hannah, who praises his sweetness while remaining subservient to his leadership, can he fully find happiness. Hannah may be able to be a superhero (see meteor climax), but she belongs to him. There is a paradox at play here, one hat many women are compromised with everyday - the cultural imperative to be independent and strong while deferring to a male partner. A woman can have power as long as she knows her place. At the end of the film, Izzard and Wilson are left with girlfriends' purses in hand as the women fly to save a plane from crashing. They are framed as the wives-at-home, and the audience is left with this humorous gender reversal. It's only funny because it's unusual, it's odd. It's funny because it puts Wilson and Izzard into positions they should not occupy. Ha ha, isn't it funny how they've been turned into wives? Because being a wife is funny, especially if you're a wife with a penis.

"Want to get a beer?” Wilson asks. Somebody better break the bottle over his (and director Reitman's) head.


Four other side points:

Firstly, Thurman’s superhero costumes consist of knee high boots, leather corsets, full skirts, and silk capes. Apparently, women can only have superpowers if they have super-cleavage as well.

Secondly, I love Eddie Izzard as a comic, but in this film he falls miserably flat. And in what universe does Izzard end up with Uma Thurman?

Thirdly, Luke Wilson is a disaster. He seems to be playing Owen Wilson playing Matt Saunders. Luke is much better as the antisocial tennis pro of "The Royal Tennenbaums,"” where he doesn'’t have but five lines and spends most of his time onscreen being hidden by long hair and aviator sunglasses.

And finally, what kind of superhero name is G Girl anyway? It's never explained in the film why she is called G Girl, but it doesn't really matter anyway, as it is the lamest superhero name ever. At least Elektra had a cool name (or Storm or Rogue. Hell, even Jean Grey is better). Although Wonder Woman, Supergirl, and Batgirl pretty much suck as well. Might as well continue the tradition of infantilizing women with power.

What happened? I keep shaking my head, trying to understand...


*Although somehow we'’re supposed to believe that Lois and Superman did it at some point and produced an angelic yet fragile five year old.

Images from: http://xoomer.alice.it/amasoni2002/shl/index.htm, http://www.northdevongazette.co.uk, and http://www.cinoche.com/actualites/1028, respectfully.