Preliminary Questions
It has been said that “women are from Venus, men are from Mars”. What does this mean, and do you agree with this idea?
Obviously, there are biological differences between men and women, but is that the only difference?
According to Erica Jong, “Men and women, women and men. It will never work.” What does this say about male/female relationships, and do you agree with her? What are the common complaints between the sexes?
Has the relationship between men and women changed over the years? Has this changed the image that the sexes have for each other?
The following is an excerpt from comedian Jerry Seinfeld: “Men and women will never understand each other, we all know that, so let's just get over it. I don't understand women. I will never understand how a woman can take boiling hot wax, pour it on her upper thighs, rip the hair out by the root, and still be afraid of a spider! I'm not spending any more time working on that. And I know that women have a hard time understanding men, I know there are women looking at my right now, wondering what's going on in that little brain of his. “I bet you I could manipulate that brain.” I bet you could too. I bet that women would like to know what men really think. I bet they do and I can tell you if you'd like. You want to know? Ok, then I'll tell you, nothing. We're not thinking anything. We're just walking around looking around. This is the only natural inclination of man. To just kind of check stuff out. We work because they force us to, but other than that, this is really the only thing we want to do.” How does he characterise men and women here? Is he right? How do the sexes like to spend their time? Is there such a big difference?
The following is then an excerpt from Dylan Moran: “All male arguments are very early seventies, Soviet-made, unidirectional, trundling behemoths, that say the same thing again and again and again. “I told you I'd be late on Tuesday, I told you I would be late, I told you, I heard my own voice. I did say it. Whereas women seem to have these amazing, slinky, stealth-bombers, designed by Jaguar, with a lovely cream leather interior. That's why they can respond by saying “Yes, okay, maybe you're right, but why is the fridge door open? There are times when men get very envious of women and wish they could think and behave like women. And they get very envious of the radar and sensitivity of women. If you have a women friend who says she's just going to see a friend at the café, I'll be back in a little bit, and when she returns you ask: “How was so-and-so?” And she replies: “Oh, she'snot so good. Not so good at all. Early onset of diabetes. And she's having an affair, which is, you know, complex. And there's a very good chance she's going to lose her job as well.” “That's incredible, you found all that out in just fifteen minutes. She told you all this?” “Oh, she didn't say anything, but she didn't finish her tea.” Which is a good deal more sophisticated than male conversations, the rules of which are very simple. It's your turn to talk, when the other guy has his drink up to his face.” What pictures of men and women does he present, and do you agree with him?
What common stereotypes are there about men and women?
Extract 1
I love flowers Id love to have the whole place swimming in roses God of heaven theres nothing like nature the wild mountains then the sea and the waves rushing then the beautiful country with the fields of oats and wheat and all kinds of things and all the fine cattle going about that would do your heart good to see rivers and lakes and flowers all sorts of shapes and smells and colours springing up even out of the ditches primroses and violets nature it is as for them saying theres no God I wouldnt give a snap of my two fingers for all their learning why dont they go and create something I often asked him atheists or whatever they call themselves go and wash the cobbles off themselves first then they go howling for the priest and they dying and why why because theyre afraid of hell on account of their bad conscience ah yes I know them well who was the first person in the universe before there was anybody that made it all who ah that they dont know neither do I so there you are they might as well try to stop the sun from rising tomorrow the sun shines for you he said the day we were lying among the rhododendrons on Howth head in the grey tweed suit and his straw hat the day I got him to propose to me yes first I gave him the bit of seedcake out of my mouth and it was leapyear like now yes 16 years ago my God after that long kiss I near lost my breath yes he said I was a flower of the mountain yes so we are flowers
all a womans body yes that was one true thing he said in his life and the sun shines for you today yes that was why I liked him because I saw he understood or felt what a woman is and I knew I could always get round him and I gave him all the pleasure I could leading him on till he asked me to say yes and I wouldnt answer first only looked out over the sea and the sky I was thinking of so many things he didnt know of Mulvey and Mr Stanhope and Hester and father and old captain Groves and the sailors playing all birds fly and I say stoop and washing up dishes they called it on the pier and the sentry in front of the governors house with the thing round his white helmet poor devil half roasted and the Spanish girls laughing in their shawls and their tall combs and the auctions in the morning the Greeks and the jews and the Arabs and the devil knows who else from all the ends of Europe and Duke street and the fowl market all clucking outside Larby Sharons and the poor donkeys slipping half asleep and the vague fellows in the cloaks asleep in the shade on the steps and the big wheels of the carts of the bulls and the old castle thousands of years old yes and those handsome Moors all in white and turbans like kings asking you to sit down in their little bit of a shop and Ronda with the old windows of the posadas glancing eyes a lattice hid for her lover to kiss the iron and the wineshops half open at night and the castanets and the night we missed the boat at Algeciras the watchman going about serene with his lamp and O that awful deepdown torrent O and the sea the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the glorious sunsets and the figtrees in the Alameda gardens yes and all the queer little streets and the pink and blue and yellow houses and the rosegardens and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as a girl where I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will yes
Extract 2
Today, despite Rita's closed face and pressed lips, I would like to stay here, in the kitchen. Cora might come in, from somewhere else in the house, carrying her bottle of lemon oil and her duster, and Rita would make coffee—in the houses of the Commanders there is still real coffee—and we would sit at Rita's kitchen table, which is not Rita's any more than my table is mine, and we would talk, about aches and pains, illnesses, our feet, our backs, all the different kinds of mischief that our bodies, like unruly children, can get into. We would nod our heads as punctuation to each other's voices, signaling that yes, we know all about it. We would exchange remedies and try to outdo each other in the recital of our physical miseries; gently we would complain, our voices soft and minor key and mournful as pigeons in the eaves. I know what you mean, we'd say. Or, a quaint expression you sometimes hear, still, from older people: hear where you're coming from, as if the voice itself were a traveler, arriving from a distant place. Which it would be, which it is. How I used to despise such talk. Now I long for it. At least it was talk. An exchange, of sorts. Or we would gossip. The Marthas know things, they talk among themselves, passing the unofficial news from house to house. Like me, they listen at doors, no doubt, and see things even with their eyes averted. I've heard them at it sometimes, caught whiffs of their private conversations. Stillborn, it was. Or, stabbed her with a knitting needle, right in the belly. Jealousy, it must have been, eating her up. Or, tantalizingly, It was toilet cleaner she used. Worked like a charm, though you'd think he'd of tasted it. Must've been that drunk; but they found her out all right. Or I would help Rita make the bread, sinking my hands into that soft resistant warmth which is so much like flesh. I hunger to touch something, other than cloth or wood. I hunger to commit the act of touch.
But even if I were to ask, even if I were to violate decorum to that extent, Rita would not allow it. She would he too afraid. The Marthas are not supposed to fraternize with us. Fraternize means to behave like a brother. Luke told me that. He said there was no corresponding word that meant to behave like a sister. Sororize, it would have to be, he said. From the Latin. He liked knowing about such details. The derivations of words, curious usages. I used to tease him about being pedantic…
This washroom used to be for boys. The mirrors have been replaced here too by oblongs of dull gray metal, but the urinals are still there, on one wall, white enamel with yellow stains. They look oddly like babies' coffins. I marvel again at the nakedness of men's lives: the showers right out in the open, the body exposed for inspection and comparison, the public display of privates. What is it for? What purposes of reassurance does it serve? The flashing of a badge, look, everyone, all is in order, I belong here. Why don't women have to prove to one another that they are women? Some form of unbuttoning, some split-crotch routine, just as casual. A doglike sniffing.
Textual Questions
Which extract is written by a woman, and which by a man? What reasons do you have for your choice?
What are the stylistic differences between the two texts?
In both texts we have a woman talking about men. How are men described here?
From the text, what can you work out about how the authors characterise women?
In both texts there is an interest in the female body. Why do you think this is? How is it described in the two texts? In the second text, what precisely is she waiting for, do you think?
The word fraternise is one that shows a gender bias towards men. Can you think of any other words in either Polish or English that has this bias?
According to Ferdinand Mount, “It is true that women tend to write more and better about women, just as men write more and better about men.” Do these two texts support his argument? Can you think of any exceptions to this?
What can you figure out about the relationship between men and women in the two texts?
How important is the gender of the writer when reading a text?
Why do you think in the literary canon most of the writers are men?
According to Lavinia Greenlaw: “Perversely, the propensity to detach and divide enables men to engage long and hard enough to produce fully realised work. Whether by nature or nurture, women feel compelled to keep a foot in the world and an inclusive focus.” Do you think she's right? Can you see any evidence of this in the texts here?
1