Heteronormative manipulative dating bullshit GO!!!

In prep for my evisceration of Not Your Mother's Rules, I felt it essential to revisit the toilet paper classic, the original Rules, or The Rules: Time-tested Secrets for Capturing the Heart of Mr. Right, a 1995 tree murderer publication by Ellen Fein and Sherrie Schneider. It is ostensibly a advice book for white, bourgeois, U.S., 1990s, het, cis, non-disabled, college-educated, professionally employed, [sub]urban, monogamous, single women who want to have lifelong, loving, satisfying marriages to white, bourgeois, U.S., 1990s, het, cis, non-disabled, college-educated, professionally employed, [sub]urban, monogamous, single men.

So apparently the target population is like 3 people.

Anyway, I will not be eviscerating The Rules in detail, merely making snide remarks on bits that catch my attention. My excerpts should easily give you an idea of the content and its retrograde ideological underpinnings.

Let's go!

Page 1: "No one seems to remember exactly how the Rules got started, but we think they began circa 1917 with Melanie's grandmother. ... Back then, they called it 'playing hard to get.'"

'Kay, I'm done. That's all I need to know. This book is going to tell its audience to sit on its collective asses and...wait for it...do nothing! [Why this requires a multi-book series, I'm not sure.]

The concept of courtship/dating/relationship formation with partners as that of a man aggressively chasing a desirable, passive woman goes much further back than 1917. The active man/passive woman binary appears nearly everywhere around the world as a standard feature of kyriarchy, but acknowledging that would require research and facts, two things that this book clearly can't be bothered with.

Page 2: "Deep inside, ... we really wanted to get married -- the romance, the gown, the flowers, the presents, the honeymoon -- the whole package."

Notice the complete absence of a marriage partner from this fantasy. Instead, the authors focus on the material trappings of the wedding industrial complex that they are culturally expected to want. I am not disparaging anyone's interest in these trappings. [I like presents!] I am merely pointing out that, already, this book is really, really, really hung up on achieving mainstream societal markers of successful femininity. 

Wow, this is going to take forever. At this rate, I'll never get to Not Your Mother's Rules! :p

More later....

Where's Me and My Muses?

It's the question that everyone's asking.

 

Okay...maybe not everyone, but at least all three of my readers.

 

As the loyal trio knows, Me and My Muses went on hiatus in mid-February as I prepared to learn a new comic creation program. I had a very frustrating experience and eventually reverted to Adobe Photoshop Elements, with which I laid out my very first photostories.

 

Then, in mid-March, just as I was entertaining thoughts of resuming Me and My Muses, I learned that I would be moving in a month. Pandemonium thus ensued and is currently ensuing.

 

In conclusion, Ellery and Lucian will return either later this month or sometime early in May, depending on when I get my shit together.

 

"The Rules" again

I'm trying to progress past the first chapter here...

Page 6: "If you follow the Rules, ... your husband will treat you like a queen, even when he's angry. Why? Because he spent so much time trying to get you. ... [H]e thinks of you constantly. He's your best friend, your Rock of Gibraltar during bad times. He's hurt if you don't share your problems with him. He is always there for you -- when you start your new job, if you need surgery. He even likes to get involved in mundane things, like picking out a new bedspread. He always wants to do things together."

This paragraph implies that the standard het marriage consists of a woman who wants more personal attention and emotional connection and a man who doesn't supply it. I'm very distressed by the authors' insistence that a) the standard husband is a neglectful, self-absorbed clod who has no capacity to respect and sympathize with his partner and b) the only way to counteract this is through playing constant head games.

Page 9: "We understand why modern, career-oriented women have sometimes scoffed at our suggestions. They've been MBA-trained to 'make things happen' and to take charge of their careers. However, a relationship with a man is different from a job. ... [T]he man must take charge. ... We are not making this up -- biologically, he's the aggressor."

Pay attention to this mini rant against women with MBAs. Fein and Schneider have a particular animus towards Masters degrees in business administration, presumably because any education beyond a BA irreparably damages a woman's marriageability, which, I guess, is like some sort of psychosocial hymen.

Don't look at me. I didn't write this shit!

Whenever I see the phrase "I am/We are not making this up," I think of humorist Dave Barry. He frequently prefaced especially absurd -- but completely true -- details in his columns with this earnest disclaimer. Then, of course, whatever came after the disclaimer seemed extra hilarious. I therefore cannot imagine this phrase as being said with anything else other than tongue in cheek.

"No REALLY!!" is not a convincing clincher for an argument.

Oh look -- essentialist claptrap!

Page 13: "...[W]e were offended by what seemed to us to be downright trickery and manipulation. The Rules would send women back twenty-five years. What would the feminists say? On the other hand, Melanie had what we wanted: the husband of her dreams who adored her. It made sense to rethink our offended psyches!"

Those poor, deluded, man-hating feminists! They're all just bitter because they think that het relationships should contain honest and direct communication. Hah! Where are they now? They're joining lesbian separatist communes where they don't pluck their chin hairs.

...Oh wait. You say that some of them are, in fact, in marriages with the husbands of their dreams who adore them? Well, that's because they clearly recognized the truly passive essence of femininity and faithfully practiced the Rules.

Whaddaya mean -- some of them base their marriages on equality, respect, mutual friendship and affection? That's just... That's just...

[head explodes]

Page 15: "But First the Product -- You."

Just in case you weren't certain that this book is the product of a capitalist culture that not only objectifies women, but also commodifies relationships as economic transactions, here's your proof.

Page 16-17: "Men like women who are neat and clean. They also make better mothers of their children -- the kind who don't lose their kids at the beach."

Well, someone clearly had a traumatic experience at the age of 4 after purchasing an ice cream cone independently and turning around to see where Mom was, only to experience momentary panic because she had moved 12 feet to the left to enjoy the respite of a shade tree.

Page 17: "Personal shoppers can help you find clothes that look good on you and that hide your flaws, as opposed to clothes that are perhaps trendy but not flattering."

How much money do the authors think their readers have? Do they know how expensive personal shoppers are?

Page 18: "When you're shopping in a department store, stop by a cosmetics counter and treat yourself to a makeover."

Shills!

Page 19: "...[G]row your hair long. Men prefer long hair, something to play with and caress. ... It doesn't matter that short hair is easier to wash and dry or that your hair is very thin. The point is, we're girls! We don't want to look like boys."

God help you if you're bald, either out of choice or necessity. We can't help you there. You're just screwed. Resign yourself to dying an old maid.

Page 19: "Don't act like a man... Don't tell sarcastic jokes. Don't be a loud, knee-slapping, hysterically funny girl. ... Don't talk so much."

Wait...I've got it:

The men up there don't like a lot of blabber
They think a girl who gossips is a bore
Yes, on land, it's much preferred
For ladies not to say a word
And after all, dear, what is idle prattle for?

Come on, they're not all that impressed with conversation
True gentlemen avoid it when they can
But they dote and swoon and fawn
On a lady who's withdrawn
It's she who holds her tongue who gets her man

Ah, you say that Ursula the sea witch was being rather sarcastic in Poor Unfortunate Souls when she was singing this in Disney's animated Little Mermaid, trying to convince Ariel to trade her voice for a pair of legs?

Well, no wonder Ursula's still single. Hmph!

--

Holy shit, I haven't even gotten to the actual Rules yet.

"The Rules": finally hitting an actual Rule

Page 22: "Rule #1: 'Be a 'Creature Unlike Any Other'"

Look -- "unnecessary" "quotation marks!"

Page 22-23: "It doesn't matter if you're not a beauty queen, that you never finished college, or that you don't keep up with current events. You still think you're enough. You have more confidence than women with MBAs or money in the bank."

I do not understand the authors' sneering fixation on women with MBAs.

Phew! Now that I've successfully passed Rule #1, I'm doing some serious skimming.

Page 43: "Life has enough pain without our adding man pain to it. We can't control cancer or drunk drivers, but we can restrain ourselves from dialing his number."

In their authors' sordid worldview, random events cause women misery, to which the only acceptable response is to not reach out for companionship when one wants and/or needs it. Hmm, I see they're advocating the social equivalent of aiming a loaded semiautomatic at your shoes and leaning on the trigger.

Page 46: "Remember, early on in a relationship, the man is the adversary (if he's someone you really like). He has the power to hurt you by never calling again, by treating you badly, or by being around but indifferent. ... He runs the show. The best way to protect yourself from pain is to not get emotionally involved too quickly."

There's such bitter, painful resignation in this passage. The authors recognize the damaging, unfair nature of the heteronormative dating status quo. However, they cannot imagine an alternative model for social interactions, so, with a heavy heart, they resolve to play the game with a vengeance. They're gonna achieve "happily ever after" if it kills 'em, dammit! [Pay no attention to the corrosive misery and internalized misogyny behind the curtain.]

Wow, now I'm depressed. :(

"Hey! Hey Mom!"

"Pet me! Pet me! Rub my ears! My ears...My -- AHHHHH THAT FEELS GOOD."

Cutest begging kitty cat ever.