My readers are almost exclusively women, except for one very sophisticated Frenchman who makes the best planked salmon you’ll ever eat.
Today I heard a story about a Nobel Prize winning author who claims no woman is his equal as a writer. I’ll paraphrase. Basically, women suck as writers. We have too many “feelings” and our view of the world is narrow. He claims no woman is truly the master of a home, and that is clear in her writing as well.
Well, Niapaul, you can suck it. How’s that for sentimentality? And using Jane Austen to underscore your point? She’s been dead for 194 years. Have you ever picked up a book by someone else with a vagina? I don’t like Jane Austen’s books either, but she’s hardly the voice of my generation. Of course, we’re all alike, we women writers, so one would hardly need to read more than one of us in order to form a comprehensive understanding. Unlike men, we can all be categorized and judged together. There are “writers” and then there are “women writers.”
Writers are interesting to women, but the opposite is often not true. I really hate that there’s only one genre for women, and it’s “chick lit.” Mommy Blogger is a subgenre of chick lit. Men don’t want to read about anything that comes out of our vaginas, just about what goes in. And even then, I think they’d rather see pictures than read a bunch of frilly prose.
Now I’m being unfair to men, just because of one Nobel Prize winning author who once demonstrated his impatience that his wife didn’t die of cancer faster so he could marry his side-piece. I can see where “sentimentality” would bother a man like that. And since he’s unlikely to see a vagina up close that isn’t bought and paid up for the hour before he dies, he has lots to be bitter about.
So here’s some chick lit for you: my week. V and I have been suffering from a terrible, tenacious virus. For her, it started with croup Sunday night. I came down with a cough so violent on Wednesday that I think I’ve pulled every muscle in my back hacking away. My OB was sweet enough to give me something called Phenergan with Codeine syrup. A former addict friend of mine assured me that at another part of his life, he would have followed me to my car from the pharmacy counter and mugged me for it in the parking lot. This little tidbit not only made me vow to be more cautious about leaving the pharmacy counter with narcotics in the future, it piqued my curiosity, so I looked up some Urban Dictionary entries for my seemingly innocuous cough medicine only to discover that it’s extremely popular in some parts of the country when mixed with Sprite and a floater of Jolly Ranchers candy. It must do something for these mixologists that it doesn’t do for me. Or maybe when you’re not half dead from coughing, it has a more pleasing effect. Although, I’m not sure what could be more pleasing than the drugged, coughless sleep this drug has given me.
And yes, Judgie Wudgies, I AM nearly nine months pregnant. I am sure that my infant is thrilled to have a break from my incessant hacking so she can sleep as well. It also keeps me off the smack.
I should stop going on about my cough syrup, lest I prove Niapaul right about the sentimentality of female writing.
Now, excuse me while I go murder the dog* that won’t stop barking at the neighbor who is attempting to repair the same old broken fence that divides our properties using the same rotted old boards which are responsible for the sagging mess in the first place. Something that he tries three times a year, but only at naptime.
*all claims of attempted animal murder are completely facetious and used for humor purposes only.
Been away from the internet the past 9 days, getting all caught up today.
I would be interested to know what you said about Brad and Angelina.
I don’t personally mind people who throw around the “it’s just a piece of paper” crap. I just feel bad for them that they are uninformed about what it means to be married. If they knew what it was and then decided it wasn’t for them, I say bravo on making good choices. What bugs the poop out of me is people without children trying to tell me how I SHOULD raise mine. (even though I am pretty sure I did that very thing when I was single and childless…sorry 🙂
I had never heard of Niapaul before this post. Thank you for teaching me something new today. After spending more time than I should, and because I am a psychologist (no I am not, I just play one on TV… nope not that either, I’m just a chick with an opinion ;-), I think the guy has self loathing problem so he treats all women like crap and has to justify to himself why it is okay to do so. He admittedly beat the crap out of one woman regularly that he had an extensive afair with, once for 2 days straight and said his hand hurt from it. He then procedded to say she didn’t mind it!!!!! When asked she said she certainly did mind it!
Anyway thanks for your witty posts!
Re: Brad and Angelina. I have made all kinds of comments about them, and there is at least one obsessed commenter who bullies me and antagonizes me after all my comments. I remember 2006 pretty well, and what happened is that Brad Pitt left his wife Jennifer Aniston and immediately began a relationship with his co-star, Jolie, from his latest film. Now, several Celebitchy commenters (okay, most) do not believe that Brad and Angie had an affair on their movie. Even the ones who are willing to admit that they fell in love on the set, will absolutely not believe that anything went on between them physically. I am of the opposite opinion. I am not going to condemn either one of them. I am in no position to judge. But the facts are the facts and I criticize openly the rewriting of history.
I agree with your comments about Niapaul. Inside, he must be full of self-hatred and fear of women. It is a woman’s power that terrifies men like this, thus the need to dominate them.
Thanks for reading and commenting.
Ha! You have me lol-ing as usual. I must not know what “chick-lit” really is, because what I think it is, you are not.
SIZZURP! Sizzurp is legit and it is hardcore. It is popular in certain parts of the country. Like downtown Atlanta. LOL.
I write for a blog called GeekMom.com, occasionally pieces get posted on our counterpart site – GeekDad.com. I had an article over there the other day and got the funniest comment ever from a guy not wanting to read what women have to say and asking why they cross post with us. The guy was so mad about reading from a woman’s perspective. Given that my name is not exactly androgynous I wonder why he even bothered reading past my name let alone spending time writing a lengthy comment!
V.S. Naipaul hates everyone, women in particular, so his latest broadside is no great surprise. I imagine he’s now the owner of a limp and lonely dick, so women writers who would not lay him at conferences *must* be to blame. He’ll eventually melt in a puddle of his own bile.
Now I have Sting’s song “Owner of a Lonely Heart” in my head, only with the lyric, “owner of a lonely dick.”