The self-identified misandrists I know do not hate men as much as they are fed up with endlessly discussing trivial “feminist issues”. We don’t want to talk about whether or not wearing makeup is a “feminist act.” We are tired of the lack of serious discussion about race and class within feminist circles. We are done with holding back our opinions and critiques of kink and BDSM in fear of being admonished by sex positive feminists who relentlessly advocate that we keep our hands off the “private” world of sex (contradictorily, as “the personal is political” is a mantra expelled by all brands of feminists).
—and finally Madeline Alpert in XO Jane, Where’s Valerie Solanas when you need her? What it really means to man-hate in 2013. And I might add, 2014.
I am at work reading the SCUM manifesto - in book form, this is a library, and I could have found it online I suppose but it would have taken much longer than walkng twenty metres and squinting at the 791.43 shelf. Depressingly, Solanas in our catalogue is still defined by her relationship to Warhol. Anyway, while the manifesto is a bit much for today’s strident (shrill) feminist, it is still only that: a bit much. It was written almost fifty years ago and things have changed only a bit.
Feminists who want feminism to be respectable are afraid the “radicals” will go “too far.” That is, manhating gives the show away — we aren’t merely liberals; our complaints are drastic; we’re demanding, not asking; we’re breaking the mold in the most thorough way possible; we really mean it.
I find hating others morally preferable to hating oneself; it gives the human race a backbone. It is the first of all the biological virtues, self-preservation, and it takes more bravery than you might think. And before you sneer at self-preservation and declare that self-immolation is wonderful (especially for women) remember that self-sacrifice is a virtue always forced on oppressed groups.
Oh man I just want to quote the entire article, but I am not sure if that is okay in copyright terms. Joanna Russ, science fiction author, feminist writing in 1972 an article that is directly applicable today, from the men laughing about rape to self-sacrifice being easier for everyone to gaslighting to the watering down of feminism into a popularity contest.
Joanna Russ, The New Misandry: Man-hating in 1972. in the Village Voice.
link also via bookslut, which has given me lots of excellent reading this morning (as ever) as well as lots of righteous anger (as ever).
Both women, after writing urgent works that showed a razor-sharp grasp of women’s oppression, were diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia and institutionalized, subsequently exiling themselves and dying in isolation
—I mean, it’s not like thing one and thing two could be connected at all, is it? I am reminded of how there are no women beat poets/authors remembered like Ginsberg and Kerouac because they were all declared crazy and institutionalised.
Barbara Spindel on Valerie Solanas (the woman who wrote SCUM Manifesto and shot Andy Warhol) and Shulamith Firestone, They Got Angry - And Then They Went Mad in Dame Magazine.
link via bookslut
Franzen himself conceded in a Telegraph article, ‘When a male writer simply writes adequately about family, his book gets reviewed seriously, because: ‘Wow, a man has actually taken some interest in the emotional texture of daily life’, whereas with a woman it’s liable to be labelled chick-lit.’
—Danielle Binks on The Fault in the Cult of John Green, which is that he is taking up all the air and no one else can get a look in. Like Franzen, like all of them.
May you be seen crying at work.
May the most substantive emotional support you can offer a grieving friend be the febrile sentiment “Sending good thoughts your way” in a Facebook comment.
May your partner never be awake when you whisper “Are you awake?” because you desperately need a sign that…