Manhood
Someone told me once that misogyny was linked to absent fathers - young boys seeking to define manhood in the absence of a father-figure chose to define it as the opposite of womanhood.
I dunno. Most guys I know who grew up in female-headed households are pretty egalitarian. I assume because they got their butts beat by women half their lives. :P
I was browsing the booksale novels and found, as usual, a plethora of 'Adult man in existential crisis discovers the true meaning of his manhood' or somesuch books. Let's call them "Midlife crisis porn". In these I find a bizarre complaint, that these men need to 'define' themselves somehow, usually couched in envy of their blue collar ancestors who had to sweat and delve instead of sit at a desk.
I found myself, very snarkily, thinking "So quit your high-paying job and join the carpenter's union, jackass! Oh right, you want your manliness and a comfy life, too! Guess it's drumming in the woods with the weekend men's group for you."
My first thought is, also, that they are struggling so to 'define' manhood because they want it to be different from womanhood. As more avenues open to women and we see the developing of a gender-free 'personhood' they want to limit their own role to define themselves better.
I feel like they're quitting my softball team because they don't want to play with gross girls.
Why am I so annoyed? After all, there's gobs of "Woman seeks meaning of her womanhood" novels with pink covers out there. I guess I find these also somewhat annoying. They tend to end with either finding "Mr. Right" (who, in a bizarre twist of synchronicity, happens to be a workin' man!) or finding a new career or realizing the importance of friendship, blah blah.
Okay, here's one thing - I would actually really respect the Womanhood book if written by a man and the Manhood book if written by a woman. Despite not wanting to be so judgemental, I always suspect the authors of these kinds of pop-lit books of hidden autobiography. It's like they're editing their lives just enough that they can say "Look! I - er, I mean my main character - is blameless!"
Or am I reading too much self-indulgence into modern light reading?
Why does it bug me that the well-to-do get neurotic and write about neurosis when I, in fact, am well-to-do and neurotic?
*SIGH*
I think I shall embark on a new chick-lit book. I'll call it "Buck the Hell Up, Man." It'll be about an aggressive (but very feminine) woman searching for a validation of her blue collar roots in a wealthy inner-ring suburb. Of, um, Detroit. Yeah.
I dunno. Most guys I know who grew up in female-headed households are pretty egalitarian. I assume because they got their butts beat by women half their lives. :P
I was browsing the booksale novels and found, as usual, a plethora of 'Adult man in existential crisis discovers the true meaning of his manhood' or somesuch books. Let's call them "Midlife crisis porn". In these I find a bizarre complaint, that these men need to 'define' themselves somehow, usually couched in envy of their blue collar ancestors who had to sweat and delve instead of sit at a desk.
I found myself, very snarkily, thinking "So quit your high-paying job and join the carpenter's union, jackass! Oh right, you want your manliness and a comfy life, too! Guess it's drumming in the woods with the weekend men's group for you."
My first thought is, also, that they are struggling so to 'define' manhood because they want it to be different from womanhood. As more avenues open to women and we see the developing of a gender-free 'personhood' they want to limit their own role to define themselves better.
I feel like they're quitting my softball team because they don't want to play with gross girls.
Why am I so annoyed? After all, there's gobs of "Woman seeks meaning of her womanhood" novels with pink covers out there. I guess I find these also somewhat annoying. They tend to end with either finding "Mr. Right" (who, in a bizarre twist of synchronicity, happens to be a workin' man!) or finding a new career or realizing the importance of friendship, blah blah.
Okay, here's one thing - I would actually really respect the Womanhood book if written by a man and the Manhood book if written by a woman. Despite not wanting to be so judgemental, I always suspect the authors of these kinds of pop-lit books of hidden autobiography. It's like they're editing their lives just enough that they can say "Look! I - er, I mean my main character - is blameless!"
Or am I reading too much self-indulgence into modern light reading?
Why does it bug me that the well-to-do get neurotic and write about neurosis when I, in fact, am well-to-do and neurotic?
*SIGH*
I think I shall embark on a new chick-lit book. I'll call it "Buck the Hell Up, Man." It'll be about an aggressive (but very feminine) woman searching for a validation of her blue collar roots in a wealthy inner-ring suburb. Of, um, Detroit. Yeah.