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April 20, 2008
REVIEWS: With or without
Reviewed by Noor Jehan Mecklai
MAUREEN Dowd is a Pulitzer
Prize-winning columnist for the New York Times, and since this annual prize is awarded for excellence in journalism and literature, one is a little surprised at the cheap fiction type front cover illustration. With the sub-title of ‘When sexes collide’, and certain aspects of the stuff presented inside, the book could well be re-named Sex in the Citadel. I must admit that I didn’t start reading it from page one. Seeing both the Clintons’ names given prominence well into the fray, naturally I read those chapters first, so maybe my unfavourable first impression is my punishment for cheating, as I often do — in other words for looking at the end of the story before reading the whole of it.
The nature of Dowd’s reporting on the Clinton-Lewinsky dalliance forces one to ask what it is that makes human beings want to find out all the petty and sordid details they can about the lies of those either at the head of state or otherwise in power, and to publish them for all to see. Can this be passed off as a desire to present truly objective journalism? I don’t think so. Then does it reflect something deep down — or maybe not so deep down — in our subconscious, that is to say, unsuspected germs, seeds or currents of hatred and envy of those who are where we will never be, of those who have something that we will never have? Does it reflect an impish desire, on a more harmless level, to show that the king has after all feet of clay?
Everyone knows that in today’s world, few heads of state possess the mystique that was once a part of the ruler’s trappings. That is a fact. Mostly nowadays they are of the common people, or of once-regal families now obliged to work for their bread and butter. So why go to such lengths to ferret out every detail of some of the things they think about and do behind closed doors, and to publish it all far and wide? Apart from money, what is to be gained by it? Is it the satisfaction of having made somebody famous into somebody merely notorious, and of knowing that the public will go for it?
Poor old Bill. Well, as to Hillary’s desire to head the first overt US petticoat imperium, some interesting facts and theories are offered, including the idea, familiar to most of us, that she wishes to ride on Bill’s coat tails to the Oval Office, just as George W. rode there on his daddy’s. Dowd asks, ‘Will the ‘I am Woman, see me grow’ senator ever be genuinely self-reliant from her husband? Or are men necessary?’
Nobody is spared, and nothing is sacred, least of all the lengths that men will go to to enhance their masculinity, or on the other hand their audience appeal. Apropos of the latter, she says, ‘For the first time in 2004, we had a presidential candidate who appeared to be a Botox user. When John Kerry’s newly unlined, serene visage sparked rampant speculation that his attractive 65-year-old wife, Teresa, a Botox aficionada, had turned him on to the wrinkle diffuser, I felt compelled to track down the 60-year-old candidate and ask him about it… After all, the leader of the free world has lots of reasons to frown and wince and look startled. How could we elect a president who couldn’t show his emotions?’ Botox, incidentally, is a product used by cosmetic surgeons and their ilk, to paralyse certain facial muscles, thereby disguising some of the effects of ageing, such as expression lines. Finally, Maureen’s relentless prodding elicited the reply, ‘That sort of thing is so childish. In the end, people will care about real choices that affect their lives.’ Touche!
Her good old-fashioned mother cautioned her firstly that people were actually poor in the ’30s, and secondly that ‘Women [could] stand on the Empire State Building and scream to the heavens that they are equal to men… but until they have the same anatomy, it’s a lie.’
However, her history of the female psyche from her own youth, when she longed for a life like that displayed in 1930s movies, where Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, for example, danced the Continental in white hotel suites, is really worth reading. Her good old-fashioned mother cautioned her firstly that people were actually poor in the ’30s, and secondly that ‘Women [could] stand on the Empire State Building and scream to the heavens that they are equal to men… but until they have the same anatomy, it’s a lie.’
Then she takes us from the time when in fact men were considered desperately necessary, through the days when les femmes started to secure top jobs and had to sacrifice a lot for them, to the present, when feminism she feels, has fizzled, and a surprising percentage of the fair sex are deciding that the sacrifice is too great, and that men are after all necessary. Along with this, of course, is a sortie into a possible world without men, where the human (i.e. exclusively female) race continues without them. Concerning the ‘men are desperately necessary’ idea of old, she points out that required reading for women included Zsa Zsa Gabor’s How to Catch a Man, How to Keep a Man, How to Get Rid of a Man.
At the other end of the scale is her history of none other than the Barbie doll, about which she reveals some amazing facts, including a certain country’s website warning that these ‘Jewish dolls’ — banned in their country — are a threat to their religion despite all the ‘racy clothing stores in the… malls — cascading with so much lingerie, designer stilettos, bondage boots, transparent blouses and glittering gowns with plunging necklines that Las Vegas would blush.’
So one day, Hillary may finally become president. Sometimes I wonder if Americans will ever long for the days of Ike and Mamie Eisenhower, when Mamie was once on the list of the world’s 10 worst dressed women, and endearingly remarked thus on her position as first lady: ‘Ike runs the country and I turn the pot-roast.’ To her way of thinking it seems, men were necessary. Meanwhile, Maureen Dowd has been described as a fearless columnist. Reading this book you may feel inclined to agree.
Are Men Necessary? When sexes collide
Berkeley Publishing Group, New York
ISBN 0-399-15332-2
338pp. $15.00
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