Last week, the controversial professor, feminist blogger and personal essayist Hugo Schwyzer announced on his blog, in an interview with NYmag.com and again in LA Weekly that he was retiring his notorious public persona and quitting the internet for good (or— for the time being, he corrected himself some days later in yet another goodbye). Maybe you don’t know or care who this person is and that is just as well. He is a semi-big deal in the feminist blogosphere in the way that Serge Haroche is probably (hopefully) an even bigger deal among mathy-type people (he won the Noble Prize in Physics in 2012, according to this random website I found when I Googled “Nobel Prize winners”). And maybe we should all know more about Serge Haroche. But here we are talking about Hugo. (For a complete list of criticisms of Hugo’s work, you can go here. Or here. Yes, there are entire websites created for the sole purpose of criticizing this man and his work.) [Note: A few of Schwyzer's pieces on The Good Men Project were crossposted on The Frisky a few years ago.]
I can’t help it. Honestly, I’m kind of obsessed with him. As a freelance writer as well as a writing instructor — I teach courses in memoir, personal essay and opinion writing, the genres that both Hugo and I write — this whole brouhaha is pushing all my buttons. Some people are taking a certain joy in this character’s downfall — which I feel is mean but, yes, a little tempting. Like many, for me, the redemptive narrative of Hugo Schwyzer always rang less than true. Keep reading »
You know what is just the worst? When pregnant ladies go out in public. Yeah, their selfless maternal giving and their miracle of life — it is really not something other people should have to watch. Please, shield us from the inhumanity. Keep reading »
I think I’m a decent aunt. Not so good at remembering birthdays, admittedly, but what I lack in presents-giving, I make up for in lots of facetime. We play all kinds of games — usually “doctor,” in which I pretend to have some terrible malady wrought by a zoo animal (“Help! A hippopotamus bit my leg off!”) and they wrap toilet paper (“bandages”) around me pretending to fix it. Either we do that, or we play Barbies.
Usually my nieces’ Barbie dolls are going to a ball to meet a prince. It doesn’t matter if she’s Color-Change Mermaid Barbie or I Can Be USA President Barbie. She is always going to a ball to meet a prince. Sometimes directly after the ball, she and the prince get married. So, last weekend when I was babysitting, I tried to set the tone for something different. Keep reading »
I don’t know if I’m the right kind of feminist.
Oh, my principles are in the right place -– birth control and abortions for those who want/need them; equal pay for equal work; full participation in government and society; equal funding for girls’ sports; the right to wear whatever the hell I want and not get chased down a street; and so on and so forth. But sometimes when I read articles by professional, ivory tower-approved feminists, I can’t understand what the hell is going on.
I’ll see an interesting headline over on one of the feminist-friendly websites, and I’ll click on through to expand my knowledge. And then I’ll come upon something like this:
The intersectionality of the diagonalism of the duality of the Hegelian manifesto advanced by Paglia shows evidence of unchecked cannibalistic governance that was meant to be unpacked by POC. Constructivism teaches us that inordinate amounts of identities are compromised by the culture of “being-ness” currently infecting conversations that ought to question assumptions of race, class, and woman-ness. We must disrupt notions of cis intertextuality.
OK obviously the paragraph above is total nonsense. But “nonsense” is exactly how some of these essays read to me. Keep reading »
As a feminist, kinky person and sex commentator, I am the target audience for Jillian Horowitz’s xoJane essay “I’m a Sex-Negative Feminist” — and that’s exactly the point. Part of the site’s “Unpopular Opinion” series, I can only surmise that the essay, like others before it, was written largely with the intention of riling up its supposed targets rather than fostering a nuanced debate.
I’d also quibble with her quickie history lesson—yes, sex-positive feminism in part emerged as a response to anti-porn feminist activism, but it also sprang from the anti-BDSM and anti-lesbian bent of much of mainstream 1970’s and ’80’s feminism. My understanding is that sex-positive feminism was about embracing feminist ideals and furthering sexual freedom—for everyone, not just women. Keep reading »