Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Manblog. Part I
Between course-work and shopping for air conditioners, I haven't had much time to blog lately. And this weekend I'm going to a cottage to catch up on reading, swim and drink, possibly at the same time though I haven't worked that out yet. Anyhow, I thought I'd post something pithy for people to ponder until next week.
I was sparked to write this blog entry in the library. There I was, with a comfy chair and coffee, happily picking away at my laptop. Then a middle-aged man plopped himself down in the chair beside me. He unwrapped granola bars and started chewing them noisily. He was dressed badly - not poorly, just in that 'jeans - white sneakers - parka from Sears' ensemble so many men rely on. He sighed a lot. It was impossible not to notice him: he took up a lot of space. Later on he fell asleep and started snoring loudly.
I had to write about him, and I figured I could go two ways. a) totalitarian - I could fantasize a terrifying vision of the future in which I'm Commissar of Fashion and everyone has to wear black leather jackets with motorcycle collars, fitted ochre wool pants and Beatle boots. Or b) I could try to understand why I always see men taking up a lot of space. What is it about so many men, that makes them oblivious to everything but themselves?
Masculinity
I have a conflicted relationship with masculinity. On the one hand... I hate it. The set of behaviours called masculine are based on self-denial. For a man, ideas and rituals are substitutes for emotional engagement with himself and those around him. Think of male values: honour, bravery, ascetism, competition, instrumentalism. Real men are effective in everything they do: they want power, money, acclaim and sex, and they go for it. Men are always on. Everything is a performance: men respond to the external demands of the environment they're in, not their own needs. In work, a man makes decisions that put him and his company past everyone else. Men are sexual dynamos, whose desire for physical gratification is a natural and constant drive. In relationships, men want sex, and power.
But a man is also, unfortunately, human. In reaching towards these goals, he denies himself. The concept of feelings, of emotional needs, doesn't exist - in fact it's dangerous, because it might reduce his effectiveness as a man. This leads to a casual ignorance of women, other men, and himself. This ignorance is twisted round to mean freedom from others: men are individualists. A man not only don't communicate his feelings, he doesn't give a damn what other people think of him, because other people don't exist, except as objects to be used or overcome. Men smack their lips, belch, fart and dress in L.L. Bean jackets - why not? Aesthetics only matters if other people do. Which they don't.
I suppose my cultural studies colleagues would say I'm 'fleeing the body' here - denying the physical reality of bodily existence. And that this leads to a fascist politic of self-denial, and a sublimation of those needs into ritual, public and private.
Hmph. I'm arguing for self-expression, but self-expression as part of a recognition of the social - that your Self is an inherent part of social reality. That means not using other people instrumentally. It's being aware that, unless you're a professional, screaming "Aooooarraghh!" when you lift weights is an intrusion on other people's personal space (unless you need attention - I'll get to that.) Let's face it, men are allowed to be more 'bodily' than women, in terms of the sounds they make, the asses they scratch, the catcalls. This is simultaneously part of male privilege, part of the denial of social reality expressed through behavioural norms, and an unconscious, uninterrogated sublimation of real feelings, expressed in socially acceptable fashion.
Not really necessary
I'm describing the interplay between the ideal and reality. Men can never reach that reality: messy things like feelings and social connectedness interfere. What I want to argue is that a) this is inherent to sexist capitalism, and b) contrary to the idea that feminism is 'a woman thing', it's actually just as important for men themselves.
I was sparked to write this blog entry in the library. There I was, with a comfy chair and coffee, happily picking away at my laptop. Then a middle-aged man plopped himself down in the chair beside me. He unwrapped granola bars and started chewing them noisily. He was dressed badly - not poorly, just in that 'jeans - white sneakers - parka from Sears' ensemble so many men rely on. He sighed a lot. It was impossible not to notice him: he took up a lot of space. Later on he fell asleep and started snoring loudly.
I had to write about him, and I figured I could go two ways. a) totalitarian - I could fantasize a terrifying vision of the future in which I'm Commissar of Fashion and everyone has to wear black leather jackets with motorcycle collars, fitted ochre wool pants and Beatle boots. Or b) I could try to understand why I always see men taking up a lot of space. What is it about so many men, that makes them oblivious to everything but themselves?
Masculinity
I have a conflicted relationship with masculinity. On the one hand... I hate it. The set of behaviours called masculine are based on self-denial. For a man, ideas and rituals are substitutes for emotional engagement with himself and those around him. Think of male values: honour, bravery, ascetism, competition, instrumentalism. Real men are effective in everything they do: they want power, money, acclaim and sex, and they go for it. Men are always on. Everything is a performance: men respond to the external demands of the environment they're in, not their own needs. In work, a man makes decisions that put him and his company past everyone else. Men are sexual dynamos, whose desire for physical gratification is a natural and constant drive. In relationships, men want sex, and power.
But a man is also, unfortunately, human. In reaching towards these goals, he denies himself. The concept of feelings, of emotional needs, doesn't exist - in fact it's dangerous, because it might reduce his effectiveness as a man. This leads to a casual ignorance of women, other men, and himself. This ignorance is twisted round to mean freedom from others: men are individualists. A man not only don't communicate his feelings, he doesn't give a damn what other people think of him, because other people don't exist, except as objects to be used or overcome. Men smack their lips, belch, fart and dress in L.L. Bean jackets - why not? Aesthetics only matters if other people do. Which they don't.
I suppose my cultural studies colleagues would say I'm 'fleeing the body' here - denying the physical reality of bodily existence. And that this leads to a fascist politic of self-denial, and a sublimation of those needs into ritual, public and private.
Hmph. I'm arguing for self-expression, but self-expression as part of a recognition of the social - that your Self is an inherent part of social reality. That means not using other people instrumentally. It's being aware that, unless you're a professional, screaming "Aooooarraghh!" when you lift weights is an intrusion on other people's personal space (unless you need attention - I'll get to that.) Let's face it, men are allowed to be more 'bodily' than women, in terms of the sounds they make, the asses they scratch, the catcalls. This is simultaneously part of male privilege, part of the denial of social reality expressed through behavioural norms, and an unconscious, uninterrogated sublimation of real feelings, expressed in socially acceptable fashion.
Not really necessary
I'm describing the interplay between the ideal and reality. Men can never reach that reality: messy things like feelings and social connectedness interfere. What I want to argue is that a) this is inherent to sexist capitalism, and b) contrary to the idea that feminism is 'a woman thing', it's actually just as important for men themselves.
