So. Bortus (who, let's be honest, is really just a discount Worf) and his mate Klyden have . . . hatched? . . . a baby girl. Thing is, in their culture being female is considered a disability. Women are weaker and inferior intellectually (or so they believe). So Bortus and Klyden want to give their baby a sex-change operation. Which is apparently a thing where they're from. But of course everyone on the ship loses their shit when they hear of this.
Eventually, watching Rankin/Bass' Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer gives Bortus fresh insight. All at once he believes their baby should remain a girl! Seriously, though—I thought in that scene Bortus was playing John and Gordon. Like, that he was pretending to go along with their "plan" to reform his way of thinking. Turns out I gave every single one of these characters too much credit. Or the show's writers. Or, really, everyone involved in any way.
Whatever. The result is litigation between Bortus and Klyden. The Orville goes to their home world for a tribunal to hear both sides. [spoilers follow] I guess the lesson is: You can't win them all? Or maybe that some societies (like patriarchal ones, perhaps) aren't going to be swayed by facts and logic? There is no changing some people's minds, no matter how much information you deal them. And some people and cultures will blindly cling to tradition rather than open their eyes.
Meanwhile, despite his defeat, Bortus still loves Klyden and loves their now son. So I guess they're just going to pretend it never happened. [end spoilers]
I have to wonder, though, why being female on the Orville would be a disability. Like, I understand the decision if they lived on their home world, where females are discriminated against. To be clear: I understand the decision, I'm not saying I agree with it. But that discrimination is not likely to happen aboard the Orville, or in any of the situations in which this child is likely to find herself (now himself) amid the Union or whatever. So this is really a matter of cultural preference. Bortus' culture values males, and somehow their baby is more valuable to them if it is male. They claim that, no, they are only trying to make their child's life better, but . . . Their child wasn't going to have a terrible life as a female. And may even have a more difficult life as a male than s/he would have otherwise. Just sayin'.
Now let's look at this episode in context of the three we've thus far seen. Was it better than the first two? Yes. But that was a very low bar. Will I watch more? I might try another one to see if they continue to make progress, but at the same time, I have so many other shows on my viewing list that I'm not 100% sure I'll stick with this one.
Showing posts with label gender studies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gender studies. Show all posts
1.16.2017
Presented Without Commentary
- Irene - a "strong" woman with a shady past who ultimately needs to be rescued by the hero
- Mary - a "strong" woman with a shady past who ultimately needs to be rescued by the hero (but isn't)
- Eurus - a "strong" woman with a shady past who ultimately needs to be rescued by the hero
- Molly - a weak woman whose attempts to assert herself are unconvincing and unsuccessful, and who pines for the hero and allows him to manipulate her repeatedly
- Mrs. Hudson - a strong [older] woman played for comic relief
3.11.2014
Movies: Bronies
So this is a documentary about the men who enjoy My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic. I use the word "men" loosely, though, since most of the subjects followed throughout the documentary were boys and young men.
I wanted to see this because I was hoping to better understand what drew Bronies to the show. But I don't feel I received a satisfactory answer. It was all very general, a sort of, "Well, the show is about having friends and makes me feel good." There are a lot of shows about having friends, and probably a number of them that could make a person feel good, so . . . Why this show? A cartoon about ponies?
The Bronies averred that the writing, animation, and voice acting in MLP:FIM is all "top notch." I think they're probably a little biased. I find the animation and voice acting passable, and the story lines sometimes quite weak.
Oh. Do I watch MLP? Well, my three kids do, and I sometimes join them. I grew up playing with My Little Pony—my best friend and I made up great stories with them—and I remember the 80s cartoon and the movies from that era. My daughter has claimed all my original ponies and has quite the collection of FIM ponies as well. And my sons also find the show engaging, though my 8-year-old would never admit it. Still, when it is on, it's not as if he goes to find something else to do.
Okay, but back to Bronies. From the small pool of guys they chose to follow for the documentary, I noticed they all had few to no friends. Now, I don't know that for sure, but that was certainly the sense that was given—and maybe it's just they didn't want their friends to know about their Pony habit, but then again, they're in a freaking documentary for Christ's sake, so it's gonna get out. Anyway, what I extrapolated from the data given is that these lonely young men are drawn to MLP:FIM because the show makes them feel part of the friendship. And then they go online and find others like themselves and start to feel connected in ways they don't in their day-to-day lives.
It's not a bad thing. I'm just saying MLP fills a need for these men.
Is there a stigma for these Bronies? I don't know any in life, unless they are closeted . . . And it seems that any contempt may depend largely on one's immediate environment and culture. In the film, one boy named Lyle has a very "conservative" father who has trouble accepting his son's enthusiasm for a little girl's show. A young man named Alex lives in Appalachia and is subject to physical threats when he puts Pony memorabilia on his car. The overarching slur seems to be that boys and men who like MLP must either be gay or pedophiles. There is a whole argument regarding the genderfication of childhood here, but I don't feel like getting started on that.
I do wish Bronies had perhaps talked to a few more girls and women about how they feel about boys who like their stuff. I realize that wasn't the point of the film—the point was to examine the boys and their points of view. But there were a lot of girls at this BronyCon from what I could see, and I want to know why, and what they think of these guys "appropriating" something designed for them. Not that I think these girls would be angry or slanderous; they seem generous in their own rights. But the fact that something only becomes important enough to look at once boys are interested? If only girls were attending these conventions, there wouldn't be a movie. Right?
What I really want to know is: Do the girls think these guys are weird? Or are they happy these guys are sharing their enjoyment?
Because I have minor in fan psychology, I find the fan interactions with the text most interesting. That these guys make music and write stories and do Pony art . . . And MLP is great for that kind of thing because anyone can create a pony identity for him- or herself and join the world of Equestria in this idealized form. (I'd love someone to make me a pony. I'm useless with art, but if some of my characters could become ponies? That would be awesome.)
I guess, though, what gave me a skewed view of the whole Bronies documentary was that it was produced by Lauren Faust and that John de Lancie was the one to come up with the idea for the film. That knowledge made this feel far more biased and propaganda-ish. I don't think they mean it that way, of course; I honestly think de Lancie et al. mean well in that they want these Bronies and other MLP fans to be comfortable with themselves. But let's be honest: When fans are happy and feel accepted, they buy stuff. And if the fandom is more widely accepted, the fan base grows, and . . . Even more stuff gets sold. So a documentary like this is in the interest of the show and its creators.
On the whole, it was interesting but ran a bit too long and, as I mentioned, didn't really answer any key questions regarding why the Bronies are so drawn to the show, which is what I really wanted to know.
I wanted to see this because I was hoping to better understand what drew Bronies to the show. But I don't feel I received a satisfactory answer. It was all very general, a sort of, "Well, the show is about having friends and makes me feel good." There are a lot of shows about having friends, and probably a number of them that could make a person feel good, so . . . Why this show? A cartoon about ponies?
The Bronies averred that the writing, animation, and voice acting in MLP:FIM is all "top notch." I think they're probably a little biased. I find the animation and voice acting passable, and the story lines sometimes quite weak.
Oh. Do I watch MLP? Well, my three kids do, and I sometimes join them. I grew up playing with My Little Pony—my best friend and I made up great stories with them—and I remember the 80s cartoon and the movies from that era. My daughter has claimed all my original ponies and has quite the collection of FIM ponies as well. And my sons also find the show engaging, though my 8-year-old would never admit it. Still, when it is on, it's not as if he goes to find something else to do.
Okay, but back to Bronies. From the small pool of guys they chose to follow for the documentary, I noticed they all had few to no friends. Now, I don't know that for sure, but that was certainly the sense that was given—and maybe it's just they didn't want their friends to know about their Pony habit, but then again, they're in a freaking documentary for Christ's sake, so it's gonna get out. Anyway, what I extrapolated from the data given is that these lonely young men are drawn to MLP:FIM because the show makes them feel part of the friendship. And then they go online and find others like themselves and start to feel connected in ways they don't in their day-to-day lives.
It's not a bad thing. I'm just saying MLP fills a need for these men.
Is there a stigma for these Bronies? I don't know any in life, unless they are closeted . . . And it seems that any contempt may depend largely on one's immediate environment and culture. In the film, one boy named Lyle has a very "conservative" father who has trouble accepting his son's enthusiasm for a little girl's show. A young man named Alex lives in Appalachia and is subject to physical threats when he puts Pony memorabilia on his car. The overarching slur seems to be that boys and men who like MLP must either be gay or pedophiles. There is a whole argument regarding the genderfication of childhood here, but I don't feel like getting started on that.
I do wish Bronies had perhaps talked to a few more girls and women about how they feel about boys who like their stuff. I realize that wasn't the point of the film—the point was to examine the boys and their points of view. But there were a lot of girls at this BronyCon from what I could see, and I want to know why, and what they think of these guys "appropriating" something designed for them. Not that I think these girls would be angry or slanderous; they seem generous in their own rights. But the fact that something only becomes important enough to look at once boys are interested? If only girls were attending these conventions, there wouldn't be a movie. Right?
What I really want to know is: Do the girls think these guys are weird? Or are they happy these guys are sharing their enjoyment?
Because I have minor in fan psychology, I find the fan interactions with the text most interesting. That these guys make music and write stories and do Pony art . . . And MLP is great for that kind of thing because anyone can create a pony identity for him- or herself and join the world of Equestria in this idealized form. (I'd love someone to make me a pony. I'm useless with art, but if some of my characters could become ponies? That would be awesome.)
I guess, though, what gave me a skewed view of the whole Bronies documentary was that it was produced by Lauren Faust and that John de Lancie was the one to come up with the idea for the film. That knowledge made this feel far more biased and propaganda-ish. I don't think they mean it that way, of course; I honestly think de Lancie et al. mean well in that they want these Bronies and other MLP fans to be comfortable with themselves. But let's be honest: When fans are happy and feel accepted, they buy stuff. And if the fandom is more widely accepted, the fan base grows, and . . . Even more stuff gets sold. So a documentary like this is in the interest of the show and its creators.
On the whole, it was interesting but ran a bit too long and, as I mentioned, didn't really answer any key questions regarding why the Bronies are so drawn to the show, which is what I really wanted to know.
2.24.2014
Television: The Women of True Detective
Cross posted from PepperWords.
So I was sent this link and asked whether I agree with the article. To summarize, for those not interested in jumping over there, the question is whether True Detective is trying to make a point in the way it portrays women.
Honestly, I don't think so. Not intentionally. But the text can be read that way, if you're looking for a reason to justify loving the show despite the fact that it treats female characters badly.
We've got Maggie, the long-suffering wife (now ex) of Marty. She nags and is angry a lot, though with good reason. And she's the closest the show comes to a fully fleshed-out, realized female character. But even then she's not really whole; she's only seen through her connections to Marty and Rust. She is not her own person with her own story line.
And then there are all the others: prostitutes and baby killers and Marty's deranged mistresses. They are all cogs in the writing machinery designed to move the plot along or else to give deeper development to Marty's and Rust's characters. I would and should howl about this, but when I look at my Peter Stoller stories I have to admit my women are—though in at least one instance more developed—equally marginal. My Miranda, like True Detective's Maggie, is seen only in relation to Peter and the others around her. But then again (in my defense), my stories are all told from Peter's limited point of view, so how else can she be portrayed? This is not true of True Detective, the writers of which could easily have chosen to give Maggie or any other woman her own story arc. (And I, one supposes, could always go back and write a story from Miranda's point of view. Hmm.)
Still, I won't try to make excuses for myself or True Detective. I think it's a fabulous show, even though it falls down on the gender front. For one thing, I've come to expect HBO shows will have a lot of naked, objectified women. (No, I don't watch Girls.) I don't like it, but the predominately male audience they're out to capture does. The Slate article talks about perspective, and this is it: HBO and True Detective are told from the male perspective. And it's shameful and sickening that this is how so many men see and treat women. But there it is.
But do I think the show's writers are trying to say something about female power? Do I believe they're being quietly subversive by giving us these flawed men and showing us "strong" women (if "strong" means: an angry, nagging wife willing to walk out; prostitutes that lecture cops; mistresses who go after men in one way or another)? Nah. That's more incidental than intentional. When a young girl waits for a woman to nod before doing what a man's told her to do . . . It won't be impressive until a man is the one waiting for a woman's permission.
So I was sent this link and asked whether I agree with the article. To summarize, for those not interested in jumping over there, the question is whether True Detective is trying to make a point in the way it portrays women.
Honestly, I don't think so. Not intentionally. But the text can be read that way, if you're looking for a reason to justify loving the show despite the fact that it treats female characters badly.
We've got Maggie, the long-suffering wife (now ex) of Marty. She nags and is angry a lot, though with good reason. And she's the closest the show comes to a fully fleshed-out, realized female character. But even then she's not really whole; she's only seen through her connections to Marty and Rust. She is not her own person with her own story line.
And then there are all the others: prostitutes and baby killers and Marty's deranged mistresses. They are all cogs in the writing machinery designed to move the plot along or else to give deeper development to Marty's and Rust's characters. I would and should howl about this, but when I look at my Peter Stoller stories I have to admit my women are—though in at least one instance more developed—equally marginal. My Miranda, like True Detective's Maggie, is seen only in relation to Peter and the others around her. But then again (in my defense), my stories are all told from Peter's limited point of view, so how else can she be portrayed? This is not true of True Detective, the writers of which could easily have chosen to give Maggie or any other woman her own story arc. (And I, one supposes, could always go back and write a story from Miranda's point of view. Hmm.)
Still, I won't try to make excuses for myself or True Detective. I think it's a fabulous show, even though it falls down on the gender front. For one thing, I've come to expect HBO shows will have a lot of naked, objectified women. (No, I don't watch Girls.) I don't like it, but the predominately male audience they're out to capture does. The Slate article talks about perspective, and this is it: HBO and True Detective are told from the male perspective. And it's shameful and sickening that this is how so many men see and treat women. But there it is.
But do I think the show's writers are trying to say something about female power? Do I believe they're being quietly subversive by giving us these flawed men and showing us "strong" women (if "strong" means: an angry, nagging wife willing to walk out; prostitutes that lecture cops; mistresses who go after men in one way or another)? Nah. That's more incidental than intentional. When a young girl waits for a woman to nod before doing what a man's told her to do . . . It won't be impressive until a man is the one waiting for a woman's permission.
5.28.2013
Television: Dogtato
My two young children enjoy an animated show called Dogtato. It's in Japanese, and even though I turn on the subtitles for them they are not yet readers, so I'm not sure how much of it they really understand.
If you haven't seen Dogtato—and I'm going to err on the side of assuming you haven't—it's a show about a dog potato and his other half-animal, half-vegetation friends (like Croconion, who is a crocodile onion, and Dogtato's girlfriend who is part hedgehog and part sweet potato). It's strange, but my kids find it weirdly fascinating, maybe because they can't understand the dialogue and so are exercising their minds by trying to follow the action. I'd like to think they'll come out of repeated viewings (they ask to watch it pretty often) with a smattering of Japanese, but that's probably hoping for too much. I speak a rusty smattering of basic Japanese and French, but the kids haven't seemed to catch on to any of it, except to figure out that I slip into French when I'm really, really angry.
Anyway, the thing I want to focus on here is an episode of Dogtato in which a group of the characters visit Straight Land. The king of Straight Land insists everything and everyone be, well, straight. The citizens of Straight Land go so far as to gather in the streets and shout, "Hooray for being straight!" It's more than a little disconcerting.
I know, of course, that even if my kids could understand the Japanese being spoken, they would not make a connection between the Straight Land episode and any kind of indoctrination regarding sexual orientation, but still . . . It's so in your face and over the top as to be simultaneously hilarious and unconscionable. (You can see it for yourself by downloading it here. I have a DVD, but I'm guessing since this site caters to English-speaking viewers it will have dubbing or subtitles?)
I'm not saying a discourse on homosexuality was the agenda behind the episode; I don't know enough about Japanese culture to editorialize on that. I'm just saying—if that wasn't the intent of the writers and animators—sometimes things really do get lost in translation.
As the kids get older and more savvy, I'll probably need to prepare myself for the questions and comments . . . But then again, as they get older they're less likely to want to watch Dogtato anyway. I suppose there will always be something, though, some show or pop musician keeping me on my parental toes. They've shown some interest in Card Captor Sakura . . .
If you haven't seen Dogtato—and I'm going to err on the side of assuming you haven't—it's a show about a dog potato and his other half-animal, half-vegetation friends (like Croconion, who is a crocodile onion, and Dogtato's girlfriend who is part hedgehog and part sweet potato). It's strange, but my kids find it weirdly fascinating, maybe because they can't understand the dialogue and so are exercising their minds by trying to follow the action. I'd like to think they'll come out of repeated viewings (they ask to watch it pretty often) with a smattering of Japanese, but that's probably hoping for too much. I speak a rusty smattering of basic Japanese and French, but the kids haven't seemed to catch on to any of it, except to figure out that I slip into French when I'm really, really angry.
Anyway, the thing I want to focus on here is an episode of Dogtato in which a group of the characters visit Straight Land. The king of Straight Land insists everything and everyone be, well, straight. The citizens of Straight Land go so far as to gather in the streets and shout, "Hooray for being straight!" It's more than a little disconcerting.
I know, of course, that even if my kids could understand the Japanese being spoken, they would not make a connection between the Straight Land episode and any kind of indoctrination regarding sexual orientation, but still . . . It's so in your face and over the top as to be simultaneously hilarious and unconscionable. (You can see it for yourself by downloading it here. I have a DVD, but I'm guessing since this site caters to English-speaking viewers it will have dubbing or subtitles?)
I'm not saying a discourse on homosexuality was the agenda behind the episode; I don't know enough about Japanese culture to editorialize on that. I'm just saying—if that wasn't the intent of the writers and animators—sometimes things really do get lost in translation.
As the kids get older and more savvy, I'll probably need to prepare myself for the questions and comments . . . But then again, as they get older they're less likely to want to watch Dogtato anyway. I suppose there will always be something, though, some show or pop musician keeping me on my parental toes. They've shown some interest in Card Captor Sakura . . .
3.27.2013
No Girls Allowed (Female Television Writers, or a Lack Thereof)
People have started sending me links to this article by The Guardian about the lack of female writers for shows like Doctor Who. "Why haven't you written for Doctor Who yet? Or Sherlock?" I get asked that all the time.
Look, it's not for lack of trying on my side. You can say, "Maybe you're not good enough," and maybe that's true, except I've done pretty well elsewhere. And I'd say Moffat's track record (or lack thereof) speaks for itself. ::shrug::
The UK broadcast system in general, I've found, is not female friendly, the US system only slightly more so. But especially in the UK, it is a very incestuous grouping of men who collaborate and are tightly armed against anyone new coming in, particularly women. You'll see the same names over and over again in the credits (and often the same faces across a handful of shows as the actors also benefit from this knot). It's a nasty little web. And until some kind of action is taken to dissolve that, it doesn't look to change any time soon.
But maybe I should try to be more sympathetic and understanding. After all, there may be real psychological trauma involved here. Maybe this is just a group of overgrown nerds who find girls just as scary now as they did in grade school. More so, even, since we're bigger now than we used to be. Or, on the flip side, maybe this is their revenge against all the girls who rejected them in grade school. Who knows? But whether driven by fear or spite, the result is the same: No Girls Allowed.
Look, it's not for lack of trying on my side. You can say, "Maybe you're not good enough," and maybe that's true, except I've done pretty well elsewhere. And I'd say Moffat's track record (or lack thereof) speaks for itself. ::shrug::
The UK broadcast system in general, I've found, is not female friendly, the US system only slightly more so. But especially in the UK, it is a very incestuous grouping of men who collaborate and are tightly armed against anyone new coming in, particularly women. You'll see the same names over and over again in the credits (and often the same faces across a handful of shows as the actors also benefit from this knot). It's a nasty little web. And until some kind of action is taken to dissolve that, it doesn't look to change any time soon.
But maybe I should try to be more sympathetic and understanding. After all, there may be real psychological trauma involved here. Maybe this is just a group of overgrown nerds who find girls just as scary now as they did in grade school. More so, even, since we're bigger now than we used to be. Or, on the flip side, maybe this is their revenge against all the girls who rejected them in grade school. Who knows? But whether driven by fear or spite, the result is the same: No Girls Allowed.
1.15.2009
Book Review: The Bitch in the House
Cathi Hanauer, Ed.
William Morrow/HarperCollins, 2002
275 pages
hardcover (library)
____________________________________________________
This book is a collection of essays in which, as the book's subtitle puts it, "26 women tell the truth about sex, solitude, work, motherhood, and marriage." I don't know about whether these essays tell THE truth, but they do tell SOME truths.
In the way of essay collections, some of these "spoke" to me and some didn't. I could identify with some--sympathize via personal experience, for example--and not with others. Still, I wanted to read this book and be able to revel in my womanhood, but that just wasn't possible. There's nothing in the tone that is cheerleader-like in quality; it's a mostly introspective group of personal experiences. Reading The Bitch in the House was sort of like going to a flea market; some of the stuff you find might be interesting, even tempting, but a lot of it is just someone else's junk.
Maybe I'm just not old enough or experienced enough to see all the gemstones of knowledge embedded in this book. I'll admit that's possible. And even still, a couple of things did grab me. I could identify with "Crossing the Line in the Sand" because I know I have a volatile temper myself, and I do work hard not to take it out on my children. Still, there's that scary notion that one day I'll find myself roaring like a monster and terrify them, and if that does ever happen--and I've come close--will they lose all trust in me? I don't want my kids to be thinking, Which Mommy is it today? Good Mommy or Bad Mommy? And while I had little interest in most of "Erotics 102," one thing in that essay did stand out for me; almost in a throw-away line, the author mentions her "sovereignty." She does so in the context of having the right to buy a sweater she likes, one her husband attempts to force her to return because of the expense. As someone who has a difficult time feeling like I have the right to do much on my own authority (after all, I don't make any money, and I often feel I'm here in my own house on sufferance), this situation caught my attention. I don't know what I'll do with this notion of "sovereignty," but I like it, and it'll swim around in my brain for a while, I'm sure.
Meanwhile, the only essay I had a particular dislike for was "My Marriage. My Affairs." Not because of the open marriage thing. That's not my style, but I don't really care what people choose to do in their own relationships. My problem was with the tone of the piece, in which the author (writing under a pseudonym) seems to come across as feeling as if she's simply more enlightened than most of the world. As if we'd all have open relationships, if we were just evolved enough to follow her lead. Sorry, "Helen Pine," but I'll continue grubbing around in the dirt like an underdeveloped, low-life animal and stick with my monogamous marriage.
As for the rest, most of it is passable. I think any woman who might pick up this book is likely to find something to relate to. Men who attempt it will either (a) find it surprising and illuminating, or (b) run for the hills never to be seen again. Depends on how well they can stomach plain speaking and, in some cases, vitriol from their women folk.
William Morrow/HarperCollins, 2002
275 pages
hardcover (library)
____________________________________________________
This book is a collection of essays in which, as the book's subtitle puts it, "26 women tell the truth about sex, solitude, work, motherhood, and marriage." I don't know about whether these essays tell THE truth, but they do tell SOME truths.
In the way of essay collections, some of these "spoke" to me and some didn't. I could identify with some--sympathize via personal experience, for example--and not with others. Still, I wanted to read this book and be able to revel in my womanhood, but that just wasn't possible. There's nothing in the tone that is cheerleader-like in quality; it's a mostly introspective group of personal experiences. Reading The Bitch in the House was sort of like going to a flea market; some of the stuff you find might be interesting, even tempting, but a lot of it is just someone else's junk.
Maybe I'm just not old enough or experienced enough to see all the gemstones of knowledge embedded in this book. I'll admit that's possible. And even still, a couple of things did grab me. I could identify with "Crossing the Line in the Sand" because I know I have a volatile temper myself, and I do work hard not to take it out on my children. Still, there's that scary notion that one day I'll find myself roaring like a monster and terrify them, and if that does ever happen--and I've come close--will they lose all trust in me? I don't want my kids to be thinking, Which Mommy is it today? Good Mommy or Bad Mommy? And while I had little interest in most of "Erotics 102," one thing in that essay did stand out for me; almost in a throw-away line, the author mentions her "sovereignty." She does so in the context of having the right to buy a sweater she likes, one her husband attempts to force her to return because of the expense. As someone who has a difficult time feeling like I have the right to do much on my own authority (after all, I don't make any money, and I often feel I'm here in my own house on sufferance), this situation caught my attention. I don't know what I'll do with this notion of "sovereignty," but I like it, and it'll swim around in my brain for a while, I'm sure.
Meanwhile, the only essay I had a particular dislike for was "My Marriage. My Affairs." Not because of the open marriage thing. That's not my style, but I don't really care what people choose to do in their own relationships. My problem was with the tone of the piece, in which the author (writing under a pseudonym) seems to come across as feeling as if she's simply more enlightened than most of the world. As if we'd all have open relationships, if we were just evolved enough to follow her lead. Sorry, "Helen Pine," but I'll continue grubbing around in the dirt like an underdeveloped, low-life animal and stick with my monogamous marriage.
As for the rest, most of it is passable. I think any woman who might pick up this book is likely to find something to relate to. Men who attempt it will either (a) find it surprising and illuminating, or (b) run for the hills never to be seen again. Depends on how well they can stomach plain speaking and, in some cases, vitriol from their women folk.
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