Gender and Your Literary Work
Will flowers on the cover of your novel prevent it from being considered for literary prizes? If your focus and setting are domestic, will critics be surprised when your book turns out to be textured and intelligent? Novelist Diane Meier surveys the field in "Chick Lit? Women's Literature? Why Not Just . . . Literature?":
It's enough to make one wistful for the days when a pseudonym--Acton Bell, George Eliot, Anonymous--could cocoon a book in a sheltering layer of seriousness.
And what does that say about the state of things in 2010?
Meier fillets the reviews of her own book, The Season of Second Chances, which assessed it in terms of how well it conformed to or diverged from the conventions of chick-lit, as though chick-lit were itself the new neutral, the norm to which every book authored by a woman must be compared.Still, if Tom Wolfe had written "The Recessionistas," he would have noted the brands of shoes, the Birkin bags and the personal trainers. And he would have been praised for his attention to detail. . . .
But my concern is larger, for the issue is insidious: the way Chick Lit has been used to denigrate a wide swath of novels about contemporary life that happen to be written by women.
If you think it's not affecting our work, not affecting what the publishers are handed, not affecting the legacy we leave for future generations, you're wrong.
It's enough to make one wistful for the days when a pseudonym--Acton Bell, George Eliot, Anonymous--could cocoon a book in a sheltering layer of seriousness.
And what does that say about the state of things in 2010?
Faye said:
Interestingly I mentioned this article on Twitter before I read your post, because it also struck a chord with me -- and the writer sent me a note. I pointed her to your blog!
August 13, 2010 12:55 PMdMeier
said:
Thank you for your clear, beautifully written assessment of my HuffPost article.
The issues run so much deeper than literature and labeling, that I find myself almost overwhelmed by the idea of men who won't read books with a flower on the cover or content that includes furniture or gardens or pregnancy or or -- god forbid -- love.
I sat next to a good friend recently at the movies, when a preview of "I Am Love" was shown. He made a face and dismissed it as a Chick-Flick. Dismissed it, out of hand. This beautifully made film, with the depth of "Anna Karenina" and the physical beauty of a Morandi.
What kind of men are we raising?
What does it say about our media industries (and marketing acumen) that we would pander to this kind of limited and emotionally stunted target? Especially when we know that they are not the largest consumers of media? We are.
And so -- what does that say about us?
August 13, 2010 5:40 PM