Posted on 06/01/2005 11:20:49 PM PDT by nickcarraway
Men have finally realised what they are missing, but they still aren't all that keen to do anything about it.
This is the conclusion of a study into sex differences in reading habits, which found that, while women read the works of both sexes, men stick to books written by men. And the boys can no longer use ignorance as an excuse.
'Men clearly now know that there are some great books by women - such as Andrea Levy's Small Island - they really ought to have read and ought to consider "great" (or at least good) writing,' the report said. 'They recognise the titles and they've read the reviews. They may even have bought, or been given the books, and start reading them. But they probably won't finish them.'
The research was carried out by academics Lisa Jardine and Annie Watkins of Queen Mary College, London, to mark the 10th year of the Orange Prize for Fiction, a literary honour whose women-only rule provoked righteous indignation when the competition was founded. They asked 100 academics, critics and writers and found virtually all now supported the prize.
But a gender gap remains in what people choose to read, at least among the cultural elite. Four out of five men said the last novel they read was by a man, whereas women were almost as likely to have read a book by a male author as a female. When asked what novel by a woman they had read most recently, a majority of men found it hard to recall or could not answer. Women, however, often gave several titles. The report said: 'Men who read fiction tend to read fiction by men, while women read fiction by both women and men.
'Consequently, fiction by women remains "special interest", while fiction by men still sets the standard for quality, narrative and style.'
In the survey, men were asked to name the 'most important' book by a woman written in the last two years. Brick Lane by Monica Ali and Carol Shields's Unless were frequently among the replies, but many men admitted defeat and confessed they had no idea. At least one who suggested Brick Lane admitted he had not read it.
The report added: 'Men's reading habits have altered very little since the Orange Prize burst onto the fiction scene in 1996.
Although no one would admit that the gender of the author had any influence on their choice of fictional reading-matter, men were still far less likely to have read a novel by a woman than by a man, whereas women read titles by either.
'Pressed for a preference, many men also found it much more difficult to "like" or "admire" a novel authored by a woman - for them "great" writing was male writing (oh - apart from Jane Austen, of course),' the report said.
'No wonder, then, that each year when the winner of the Orange Prize is announced a chorus of disappointment goes up from "mainstream" critics: how could such an undistinguished book have won?'
A decade ago the Orange Prize drew the scorn of many leading writers, including Kingsley Amis ('If I were a woman, I would not want to win this prize. One can hardly take the winner seriously'), and AS Byatt ('I am against anything which ghettoises women. That is my deepest feminist emotion").
The prize is now estab lished just behind the Man Booker and the Whitbread in the literary hierarchy and had huge support among survey respondents, although some still expressed ambivalence. Julie Burchill said: 'I see where it's coming from but totally understand the reasons why women don't want their novels to be entered for it.'
Jardine said: 'When pressed, men are likely to say things like: "I believe Monica Ali's Brick Lane is a really important book - I'm afraid I haven't read it." I find it most endearing that in 10 years what male readers of fiction have done is learn to pretend that they've read women's books.'
This year's £30,000 Orange Prize will be awarded on 7 June.
As others have pointed out, there have been many first rate women writers of science fiction, even of 'military' science fiction (think Andre Norton, Elizabeth Moon). And, of course, there is Ayn Rand, who is a category unto herself.
In serious history, there have been a number of outstanding women writers, for example Barbara Tuchuman whom someone else mentioned, C.V. Wedgewood, Cecil Woodham-Smith, Hannah Arendt.
And, no one should miss the oustanding satire of Florence King!
...In the survey, men were asked to name the 'most important' book by a woman written in the last two years....."How to Talk to a Liberal (If You Must)" by Ann Coulter.
Give it enough time, they will demand a chip be put in your brain to force you to spend 14% of your waking hours having positive, serious, appriciative thoughts about women. (After that comes the chip that makes your dreams politically correct.)
LOL! A simpler time, when "men were men, and women were glad of it."
And the problem is ... what??
I guess we need to start passing anti-discrimination laws which force men to buy and read one book written by a woman for every book bought and read that was written by a man.
In order to restore the balance, a man will be required to itemize every book he has ever read (along with the amount of times read). Before he can read another book written by a man, he MUST make up the difference.
LOL!
I have to recall Terry Prachett's novel "Equal Rites", about a young girl who unexpectedly gets bequeithed a wizard's staff at her birth. In the novel, the girl is the first "female wizard" because unlike the "Earth-mother-works-gently-WITH-nature-to-do-magic-over-several-generations", she just wants to blow the hell out of whatever gets in her path. Just as Gray wrote, there is a male mindset and a female mindset. All those Golden Age female authors who took male names because they couldn't sell SF as women, were possibly exactly the kind of exceptional women who could write SF that appealed to men.
From the description at Amazon.com:
"Andrea Levy has brought to life the experiences of a small group of people, brought together in London, by circumstance during the 2nd World War. This includes two young Jamaican characters.
The book not only expresses their various experiences of racism in England, but strongly demonstrates the ignorance, pettiness, destructive and negative effects of racism on each of the characters."
Yeah, just the kind of tendentious liberal propaganda crap we ought to be reading. I'll stick with P D James, Dorothy L Sayers, and Jane Austen.
Rebecca and Gary
English 44A
Creative Writing
Prof Miller
In-class Assignment for Wednesday
Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. One of you will then write the first paragraph of a short story. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back and forth. Remember to reread what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached.
* * * * * *
At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The camomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked camomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So camomile was out of the question.
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.
He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth — when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspapers to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.
Little did she know, but she has less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through Congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion which vaporized Laurie and 85 million other Americans. The President slammed his fist on the conference table. "We can't allow this! I'm going to veto that treaty! Let's blow 'em out of the sky!"
This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.
Yeah? Well, you're a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium.
You total $*&.
Stupid %&#$!.
LOL!! thats great B! hahahahaha!
"I have also read all of Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series, in which after book three his wife became his editor and lordy does it show. The newer books just got wordier and wordier every paragraph. :P"
No kidding! Someone needs to go through those with a red pen and mark out all the unecessary crap. I actually stopped reading the series, partly for that reason, and partly because I met Jordan at a book signing, and thought he was a terrible person. He's a Citadel grad, and so is my brother, so after waiting in line for half an hour, I asked him to dedicate his signature to my brother (I even brought a picture of him in his Citadel uniform). He refused, well actually, he didn't even speak to me, his wife, who was standing behind him, refused for him and told me that writing a "to" line would take too long. Ass.
Anyway, I've since picked up the George RR Martin Song of Ice and Fire series, and have found it to be a much better read.
read later
And they force such books on school children who as a result will have the allergy to the woman writers to the end of their lives.
I think this would be a good example of good female writing. :P
Question: I need some help with my love life. I’m happy having sex two or three times a week, but my boyfriend wants it every night. How can we resolve this problem?—Jenni
Answer: A short play about dinner.
SCENE: A SMALL, DOMESTIC KITCHEN SOMEWHERE IN AMERICA. A YOUNG MAN NAMED STAN SITS AT A DINING TABLE IN THE DARK, WEARING ONLY BOXER BRIEFS. HE HOLDS A FROZEN DINNER IN HIS HANDS; THE BOX FEATURES A LURID PICTURE OF A NAKED CHICKEN; HIS HANDS ARE SWEATING. THE DOOR OPENS. HIS WIFE SARAH APPEARS.
Sarah: Stan, are you in here?
Stan: Oh yeah…
Sarah: Why are you sitting in the dark?
Stan: You mean what am I wearing in the dark?
SARAH FLIPS ON THE LIGHT. STAN GETS UP AND RUSHES TOWARDS HER, DROPPING THE LURID CHICKEN.
Sarah: Ew, quit it!
Stan: Come on, you know you’re hungry. Let’s dine.
Sarah: Get your hands off of me! Jesus, is this why you had the lights off?
Stan: I thought it put you in the mood!
Sarah: [pushes him away, notices the chicken dinner] Stan…is that a Lean Cuisine on the floor?
Stan: No.
Sarah: [picks up the chicken dinner] I can’t believe it.
Stan: It gets me worked up, all right?
Sarah: But you said you’d hidden them!
Stan: Well, what did you expect?
Sarah: I told you: I don’t care if you keep them around the house, as long as I don’t see them. [Holds up the box, pointing at a breast] This makes you hungry? And Lean Cuisine of all things…you think that breast is all-natural? My father used to keep Stouffers around the house, so I can understand a good hearty meatloaf. But Lean Cuisine?
Stan: [quietly] Stouffers doesn’t do it for me anymore…Come on babe, I wanna chow.
Sarah: Don’t use that word.
Stan: Sorry…I meant, let’s make dinner.
Sarah: I’m not in the mood.
Stan: But we never have dinner anymore!
Sarah: We’re definitely not going to now. I wasn’t hungry anyway.
Stan: How can you not want dinner?
Sarah: Stan, we had dinner last night. You had dinner twice last weekend!
Stan: So what? In some cultures people eat dinner every night!
Sarah: Oh, so now we have to be like everyone else?
Stan: I didn’t say that.
Sarah: I told you when we got married, I like dinner. Some nights there’s nothing I want more than a nice, candlelit dinner, with you, you moron. It’s just that I just don’t need dinner—
Stan: But I do! I love dinner. I love dinner regularly. When I come home I want to enter my house, I want to see my wife, and then I want to have dinner with her. It’s what every man wants! What’s so wrong with that?
Sarah: There’s nothing wrong with that.
Stan: Exactly.
Sarah: There’s something wrong with that chicken though…
Stan: Forget the chicken. Baby, Mr. Stomach is growling.
Sarah: [sighs loudly] So go have dinner with your friends.
Stan: Oh, so now you’re Mrs. Funny?
Sarah: Better than having a “Mr. Stomach.”
Stan: You know Bob Wiley? He and his wife have dinner twice a day.
Sarah: So that would be…lunch?
Stan: Soon it’ll be Miss Funny if you keep starving me like this.
Sarah: Oh, so now you’re starving. Now there’s a famine around the house.
Stan: Last night wasn’t exactly a big meal.
Sarah: Well, you ate pretty quickly, didn’t you? And frankly I could have used a little dessert.
Stan: [laughs, pulls her toward him] Girls are all the same. Look, let’s not fight.
Sarah: Honey, you know I like dinner. I’m just exhausted, and I’ve still got that cold. Can’t we have dinner on Saturday?
Stan: Baby, of course. We’ll take our time. Maybe we can mix it up a bit. I’ve got this fantasy going, where you’re working in a restaurant –
Sarah: [pushes him away, leaves the room] Forget it, sicko, you can make dinner for yourself—and you’re doing the dishes!
SARAH TURNS OFF THE LIGHTS AND SLAMS THE DOOR BEHIND HER. STAN PICKS UP THE LEAN CUISINE AND STARES LONGINGLY AT THE CHICKEN.
Stan: [whispers woefully] No one cooked like mom…
".......most important book by a woman in the last two years...". That's easy. "How to speak to a liberal.[if you must]" by Ann Coulter.
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