Friday 18 January 2013

Daisy

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I had just picked up my mum from the airport in Newcastle and now we sat on the metro, talking at full speed. I told her about seeing Uncle Vanya, and how I find it increasingly hard to deal with the treatment of women in (old) literature. She rightly pointed out that I shouldn't judge old works of art like contemporary works of art - i.e. that I should be able to enjoy Czechov for what he is, not criticise him for what he's not. (A good lesson in general.) 
Whilst I agree with this, my feeling of discomfort didn't disappear. I guess it came up because I watched Uncle Vanya in the same week that I saw The Great Gatsby and Hitchcock's Marnie, and I read a Trollope novel as well. All the female protagonists have one thing in common: they're all beautiful, and that's what makes them likeable. Yes, I know, this is nothing new, nothing new at all. Lucy, the main female character in Framley Parsonage, reveals her true qualities to those who doubt her when they discover that she is, in fact, beautiful. We've all read and seen stories like that a million times. 
What I find so disturbing about it is that it's so hard to let go of this ideal of beauty. I can't remember when I last read an article about a woman that didn't mention her looks - even Miranda July's interview with Lena Dunham mentions her 'adorably big front teeth'. I can't remember when I last went to work without someone commenting on my hair, my glasses, my clothes. I'm not saying that I don't care about looks at all, I just find it surprising that the idea that women have to look their best at all times is not just Daily Mail propaganda, that there are actually people who will tell me that I'd look better if I wear my hair this way or that way, as if it was my duty to look well. It's not. Ultimately, I'm the only person who has to like my looks (and I don't have to be pretty); admittedly, it's an added bonus if my boyfriend does as well. However, it sure is hard to remember this - especially if, like me, you're drawn to Victorian literature.

7 comments:

  1. As a faraway reader who checks in now and again, and who really loves this space, I wanted to say that this is so well put. Thank you!

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  2. This more-than-great-ish post prompts me to comment as well. I was really disappointed by the interview. It really is subpar.
    Old works of art are one thing, but I find, more often than not, that prettiness - in girls - equals likability in modern literature as well. Looking at my book shelves right now, I find a lot fewer examples of the opposite, than I would like to.

    Oh well. All hail Girls and Lena Dunham. And this blog and this post.

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    1. I completely agree about modern/contemporary literature. I guess that's where the Manic Pixie Girl effect comes in as well... but that's a whole new post.

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  3. Hear hear!
    I might add, that my appearance and level of attractiveness have been constantly on my mind recently, ever since I was discarded due to lack of attractiveness of some sort or other (although probably not merely visual). Which has led me to the disillusioning realisation that what I had previously though of as my very own self-confidence about my looks was nothing but an internalised projection of somebody else's perception of myself. In other words, it was easy to be self-confident as long as I thought that somebody (somebody whose opinions mattered to me) approved. Now that this approval has been revoked, my own self-confidence is gone, or at least seriously impaired. And I am constantly thinking about my looks, how other people see me, what I could improve, how I could be better. And I am enraged that the problem has to be reduced to the level of appearances, because now I feel obliged to also solve it on the level of appearances. It is as if I have to win a battle via my own looks. Like I absolutely need to regain external approval in order to regain my own self-confidence. It's ridiculous and I hate that I let this be done to me.

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    1. I hear ya, that sounds awfully familiar. However, I do think that it could be a wake-up call for you to truly learn to love yourself. I know that that sounds super-cheesy... but it's true. (Full disclosure: I'm not there yet.)

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  4. Great post. I prefer to come across character rather than descriptions of beauty of women in books and plays. Beauty can be a double edged sword.
    Polly

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