Once upon a time, a one Mr. Walt Disney led me to believe that there existed such a thing as a fairytale romance. Sure, this ‘time’ was a timeless era of broadswords and magic and evil witches – but just because it never even existed, doesn’t mean I can’t imagine it.
And no, I don’t mean that I imagine letting down my hair, and having some man tangle his dirty hiking boots in my flowing tresses, as he attempts to rescue me from my tower. I mean that I imagine there might be such as thing as True Love. Not even necessarily a One True Love. But a love that is true.
But, if recent love-related literature is to be believed, there is no such thing. Not even is there no true love, but love of any sort is difficult to come by and completely disassociated from its original meaning. Love is not about adoration or consideration, passion or compassion. It is about game playing, hiding your true feelings, and sometimes settling for less. It is about war games, deceit and surrender. Love is, in the words of Pat Benatar, a battlefield.
Books such as He’s Just Not That Into You by Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo (adapted for screen in 2009) and Marry Him: The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough by Lori Gottlieb are both supposedly tell-it-like-it-is tomes of advice for the lovelorn and lost. HJNTIY is a wake-up call for women asserting that if a guy doesn’t call, doesn’t text you the day after a date, or doesn’t come up to your apartment at the end of the night then he’s just… well, you know.
In Marry Him, Gottlieb advises that if a woman should be so lucky as to snag a man – any man – she should, as the title suggests, marry him. She should stop imagining the perfect romance, and settle for second-best. Gottlieb’s argument is that feminism has given women unrealistically high expectations of men.
Aside from the fact that both books are terribly heteronormative and exclusionary, and assume that the goal of any woman’s life must be to get married, the most problematic aspect of these books is that they reduce both genders – women and men – to stereotypes. Women are desperate, neurotic, and highly-strung. Men are slackers, uncaring, and incapable of change.
These books are supposedly shedding light on the truth, but the stereotypes are still far removed from reality. The relationships the authors describe are ready-made, one-size-fits-all. Rather than recognizing it is individual people who make or break relationships, the authors are quite happy to blame women’s unrealistic expectations of men. Either they won’t call, and you should move on; or they won’t call, and you should marry them anyway. Both arguments neglect the fact that, well, individuals are individuals. No two people are the same, and as such, no two relationships are the same. Subscribing to stereotypes is hardly useful.
Women are portrayed as both victims and criminals: they suffer because of their unrealistically high expectations, but also perpetrate such expectations. In both books, it is women who should change – not the men who are supposedly leading them on, not calling, or being dishonest. It is women, apparently, who must don their armour, and sharpen their stiletto heels; harden their hearts.
The implied anti-feminism that comes with blaming women for failed relationships continues with the explicit anti-feminist sentiment in Marry Him. Gottlieb personally blames feminism for making her feel she deserved much more from men than she was getting; and now she’s un-married and too old. Of course, there’s nothing worse than being un-married. And of course, once you’re 30 and unmarried then you might as well give up all hope, because nobody will look at you, you hideous thing. Thanks Gottlieb, for the empowering advice. You should write self-help novels. Oh, wait.
Gottlieb’s essential argument might be sound: no people are perfect, ergo no men are perfect, ergo the search for Mr. Perfect might be jeopardizing your chances of seeing that great guy right under your nose. Essentially: sure he leaves the toilet seat up, but it’s just not that important. But as someone who considers herself a feminist, I feel no small amount of resentment towards Gottlieb for blaming the women’s movement for her own personal peccadilloes. Feminism is not a doctrine; it is an ideology that pushes for equality between men and women. There is no feminist handbook. There are no ten commandments, and the number one non-existent commandment does not state, “Thou shalt not marry a man who is human.”
Personally, I’m not looking for Prince Charming, and a happily ever after. These writers may be right, in that the Disney version of romance does not exist. But I’m just looking for what works for me. My vision of a fairytale future involves a relationship based on mutual trust and respect – hardly an unrealizable, unachievable dream. I don’t appreciate Behrendt, Tuccillo and Gottlieb telling me how to go about securing a relationship, let alone the type they seem to further in place of a fairytale romance. I may not be looking for a fairy story; but I still want something magical, in its own way. And in any case, it’s the small, beautiful mundane moments that make up both love and life. As Hans Christian Anderson wrote, “Life itself is the most beautiful fairytale.”
I suggest spending some time in the Romance section of Borders, rather than Self-Help.
The characters and stories may be fictional, but they are often more real, enlightening, and empowering than you may first assume.
Well said, Melissa! I hate the idea that even in 2010, the idea that women have to get married in order to be happy still has so much currency – and I say that as a happily married woman. Both sexes are guilty of having prohibitively high standards, but even then, the argument that this is harming women’s chances of marriage implies that getting hitched is still the ultimate point. Um, how about just having a happy, meaningful relationship, bearing in mind that it will always mean different things to different people? And particualrly in response to Marry Him: there is a world of difference between ‘settling’ for someone, and being in a relationship where both parties are willing and able to compromise and learn.