The books men should read

Prompted by the discussion that begins here:

http://www.librarything.com/topic/190180#5412596

People had varying reactions to the updated list on Esquire that now includes books chosen by women. As Lola put it:

I'd really first want to make a list with the purpose the previous one had: a list of books MEN should read, with a clear and strongly expressed intention of introducing them to point of views they as men are not likely to have.

To which my first suggestion was Jane Eyre.

Here's why that novel came to mind immediately as topping the list of what I think of as "Books men should read where they can learn what it is like not to be the center of the universe":


Jane, perhaps more than any other female character I can think of in my early reading life, had agency. She held to her own destiny, her own path, despite the determined efforts of all the people in her life to bend her to their will. For a penniless orphan, she had an amazing talent to make the people with power over her uncomfortable and even angry. She refused to ingratiate herself into her aunt's household. She refused to become whatever it was the terrible reverend at her school thought she should become. She refused to be obsequious as a governess. When Rochester askes her to elope, she refuses him and leaves his house, knowing she will be homeless. When Christian proposes they marry and go abroad to do missionary work, she refuses because they aren't in love. Somewhat to his horror, she suggests they travel together without being married -- a concept that Christian can't even make room for in his tiny little brain.

At every turn Jane dictates the terms on which the men in her orbit must accept her. They are not the center of her world, but it is clear that she is easily the center of theirs. Ultimately, they each must give way to her, because Jane is nothing if not her own woman, not to be dictated to against her conscience, whatever it may cost.

Which is why my particular motto to live by, "WWJD," is always "What would Jane do?"

While reading the conversation, I came up with Jane Eyre too, for the same reasons as >1 southernbooklady: said more eloquently than I can.

So inspiring. Begin and end with Jane.

I also recall the famous line, "Reader, I married him." Not He married me or We got married but *I* married him.

>3 sturlington: I never noticed that before. Interesting point.

Another book that might fit the bill is Betty Smith's A Tree Grows in Brooklyn -- that's a very woman-centric story.

there's some stuff (i believe) in jane eyre that eventually contradicts or at least weakens some of the feminist points made in >1 southernbooklady:, but for all the reasons mentioned, this was my favorite book for a long, long time.

maybe, to add to the list, the color purple?

i pressed "post" before i was really done there. i was going to say that maybe the color purple hingers too much on the male characters.

one of the books mentioned in the esquire article linked to in the other thread, housekeeping, i think only even has female characters. or at least i don't remember any male characters at all. that doesn't mean that men would be able to get a different perspective of the world from it, but it might help.

i hate how hard it is for me to think of books that answer the "Books men should read where they can learn what it is like not to be the center of the universe" call...

>5 southernbooklady: there's some stuff (i believe) in jane eyre that eventually contradicts or at least weakens some of the feminist points made

I had a prof in college that tried to claim Jane's returning to Thornfield, when she couldn't have known anything had changed, showed her weakness of character. I argued emphatically against it, and persuaded my whole discussion group I was right! It was the first time I'd ever argued against a teacher and refused to back down because I was so sure of my position. I was usually too intimidated by their authority to try anything like that. :)

>8 southernbooklady:

that's awesome! i'm fairly certain i couldn't have done that in college. maybe not even now.

just to clarify, though, i don't think her going back was weak either. (from what i remember.) what i do find a little disturbing about the book is rochester's character, and i find myself judging jane a bit for loving him. locking up his wife in the attic. the really cruel way he pretends to be marrying miss ingram. the lying and the pretense. he's just not all that likable and i want better for jane. =)

Yes, well, Rochester is an asshole, but is there a man in that story who isn't?

I don't think he was disturbing. I think he was clueless, not willfully malicious. He kept her locked up, but with care, really no different than her being locked up in an institution, except this way no one knew about her; he wasn't doing it to treat her badly, he was doing it because he'd been a young fool and now he didn't know any other way to handle the situation he wound up in. He cared for Jane and wanted to be with her but needed her to want him also and his only idea was to make her jealous; he wasn't purposely trying to hurt her or that other idiot in the process, he simply didn't think about it to realize it was so callous. I think he was a good person who just hadn't any idea how to behave properly or how his actions impacted others. Not until the walls came shattering down around him, anyway. And then he was forced to see just what he had done, and realize it was no way to behave, at which point he was worthy of Jane.

I should read Jane Eyre ere I shuffle off this mortal coil! Obviously it's not just the book that launched a trillion "governess marries boss" fantasies... ;)

>3 sturlington:

I like that. I did read one Charlotte Brontë, The professor, and the narrator is a wonderfully strong character, I can see her saying that kind of thing, with herself firmly... how can I put it, belonging to herself? Matter of factly, even? Like there's no question she's not the captain of her actions, if not destiny.

Let's see, the ones I mentioned before were A room of one's own--this, because it sets out the main points of male privilege, albeit in a limited (class and colour-bound) fashion. And it's just a beautiful piece of writing as how could it not be wrought by the pen of one true divinity the world has ever known. :) (Yes, I am slightly mad about Woolf.)

Elena Ferrante--I should wait until I finish the fourth book (of the Neapolitan quartet), actually, so The days of abandonment for now: why: because there's a quality in her voice that sets her apart and sets this book apart from any "wronged woman" narratives I've read and seen.

I'm afraid I simply can't express this well, but let me at least try to express it anyhow... There's... usually some kind of separation between "being a person" and "being a woman", that doesn't exist for men. Men are subjects etc. etc. first and foremost and their status in relationship to others never impinges on this--they are never seen as primarily "husbands" or "fathers" or "lovers"; their characters are never exhausted in those relationships. Men are male subjects with some more or less important "offices".

Women sink (are seen to sink) inside the relationships. They hardly ever (I want to say "never") exist as persons. Every time a woman appears on the scene the first question that poses itself is some variation of "who does she belong to". Every woman's "journey" is traditionally a journey to some person this woman will serve; a man always goes in service to himself.

Well, anyway, the magic of Ferrante for me is that SOMEHOW--I don't know how--she writes women who are persons, who are subjects, whose lives are somehow acutely felt to be theirs and belong to them, even though all of her female characters on the surface do everything women always did--they are wives and mothers and lovers and get mistreated and abandoned--but somehow Ferrante writes of this in the same way others write of men's adventures at the sea or in the stars.

Well, I'm not happy with anything I've said here so better stop droning now...

>11 .Monkey.: Eh. Setting aside the abysmal way the mental ill were treated at the time, Rochester is at the very least a manipulative man. That's a pretty purposeful character trait. He manipulates Jane's feelings first by concealing the existence of his mad wife, then by trying to to arrange a sham marriage. He pushes her to elope. He manipulates his social circle by pretending to admire Miss Ingram, and then by "testing" her by spreading false rumors about his real wealth.

Of course, this is an era when the only security a woman has is in how well she marries, so implying that Miss Ingram is shallow for being concerned is the height of hypocrisy, but it is a hypocrisy that infected the entire age.

It's notable, however, that the Jane who marries Rochester is now independently wealthy and financially secure. She doesn't need his money, and is not dependent on him in any sense.

>11 .Monkey.:

i do agree about the locking up of bertha. his intention wasn't to treat her badly. but she would have gotten more care (not much, in those days, admittedly) in an institution and in the end, while i do agree that he didn't really know any other way to handle the situation, that wasn't the motivating factor for him. keeping her a secret so he could move on with his life was. it was an ultimately selfish reason, and i got the impression that once she was locked up and he had hired someone to make sure she was ok, his hands were washed clean of her.

in the end, though, you're right that (about all of it) he wasn't being willfully malicious. unthinking but not too intentionally hurtful.

and he does "see" it by the end, which is some redemption.

>13 southernbooklady:

One thing that bothered me a little (again, not having read the book, but obvs can't help knowing the story having seen half a dozen adaptations) is that Rochester is rendered almost helpless physically by the end of the book. He's an invalid, he can't get about without help.

Was that the necessary smiting of the sinful?

>13 southernbooklady: Yes, he does manipulate, and I don't mean to say he's innocent and angelic and whatnot, just that at heart I don't think he was intended to be a bad person. He didn't, in my opinion, manipulate out of cruelty but because he was a clueless twit who had no idea what on earth to actually do with people. Until the end when he realized, shit, this really just screws over everyone, huh? Guess I better find a different way to live! So that when she does go back, he can care for her in the way she deserves, which is why she does marry him (plus yes, she is finally fully secure on her own and all that).

>14 overlycriticalelisa: Honestly, back then I don't think her care would really have been any different, it would have just been in a facility instead. Frankly it would probably have been worse, given the way they were treated then.

>16 .Monkey.: because he was a clueless twit who had no idea what on earth to actually do with people. Until the end when he realized, shit, this really just screws over everyone, huh?

Which is at the heart of why men should read the book. The damage men do because their cluelessness is cruel to other people is staggering. I'd say the same thing about Christian, actually. His proposal -- that he and Jane be married to missionary work is just another kind of self-centered selfishness.

>15 LolaWalser: Well, he was injured as a direct result of his actions, and it was certainly a large part in waking him up to the fact that you can't just do what you like with people, you have to actually respect them. That, and Jane's leaving him though she did love him.

>17 southernbooklady: Yes, in his own mind Christian wasn't trying to use Jane, he was thinking that his proposal was The Right Thing, that they would care for each other and do good in the world so how could she possibly object?! He didn't at all see it for what it was. His behavior pissed me off more than Rochester because at least he actually loved Jane, while Christian just wanted a do-gooding buddy with him.

The damage men do because their cluelessness is cruel to other people is staggering.
*nods* Very true.

>18 .Monkey.:

True but that's not quite what I was asking/what bothers me... I guess I don't like the whiff of "just comeuppance" about it, or that Jane returns to him because he needs her. What if he didn't need her, would she still want to be with him?

Question for Janeites: which Jane Austen should men read (of course the correct answer is "all of them", but beginning with one title ;))?

I've only read three--Pride and prejudice, Emma and Persuasion, and I think I'd plump for Persuasion ahead of other two, but I'm not sure why. Because it's less rosily wrapped up--unless I'm misremembering? (P&P is brilliant but IIRC it's "weddings for everyone!" in the end.)

>20 LolaWalser: She didn't return because he needed her, she didn't even know about it. She returned because she loved him. She always loved him, but she left him because he was married (and had kept it from her and was trying to marry her while being secretly married). So she went off, found her own path in the world, wound up getting an inheritance that surprised her, and then she went back to see about him, and found that he was changed.

>22 .Monkey.:

But the reason she went back is because she mystically heard him calling for her, no?

>19 .Monkey.: Yes, in his own mind Christian wasn't trying to use Jane

I don't remember anyone with that name in the novel. Do you mean St John?

>20 LolaWalser: I guess I don't like the whiff of "just comeuppance" about it, or that Jane returns to him because he needs her. What if he didn't need her, would she still want to be with him?

Okay, I didn't mean to get into this whole lit crit thing about Jane Eyre, but here's my take on it.

Firstly, the attraction and regard...the LOVE between Jane and Edward is real. I don't think Bronte ever meant to suggest otherwise. That said, when Jane runs away from Thornfield to escape the bigamus marriage she almost found herself in, she did so to preserve her own personal integrity. But she did not suddenly fall out of love with Rochester. Rather, she believes the love is there, but doomed to be unfulfilled, because Rochester is already married. She leaves him because to be his mistress would be to base her life on a lie.

Fast forward to when she finds herself in the house of Christian and his sisters, and he has asked her to marry him so she can help him in his missionary endeavors. She refuses, because a loveless marriage is also a lie.

And she can not ignore her love for Rochester, or pretend it has no place in her life, because that, also, would be to live in a lie. No, the only answer for Jane is to return and confront this love between them. This is why she answers "the call" she hears in the night -- his voice calling to her out of the dark. She goes—with no certainty of anything but confronting a terrible situation which will only cause her pain. But she still goes. Because anything less would be running away from the truth.

So really, the only person who always faces the truth of things, and the consequences of the truth, is Jane. She is fearless in this regard. At every point where society wants to offer her some "out" of her difficulties, she refuses.

As for Rochester being "needy" there is a kind of narrative symmetry to it. He held absolute power over Jane at the start of their acquaintance. He needed a stint as one who is powerless to give him some perspective. Presumably, he learns his lesson because in the way of moral tales of the era, he does eventually gain some of his sight back.

>24 Nickelini: Yes yes, sorry. St. John. I don't know why "Christian" was stuck in my head.

>24 Nickelini: I was confused on the name, he was minor so I didn't recall it, others were using it and I knew who it referred to, so I used it as well, lol. Yes, St John.

>23 LolaWalser: She heard him calling her name, yes, but that had no bearing on his being blind and needing her, he was "needing her" only in the sense that he loved and missed her, the same way she had been missing him. He had a couple who took care of him already.

>25 southernbooklady:

But she did not suddenly fall out of love with Rochester.

Oh, I never thought she did. I agree with everything you say about her character and need for truth too etc.

What I'm questioning is the feeling (obvs maybe only my feeling) that she thinks it's okay for her to be back with him once he's not only "single" but, importantly, suffering. (Or, anyway, that the author saw this--Rochester's helplessness--as a necessary pre-condition of their being together.)

He needed a stint as one who is powerless to give him some perspective. Presumably, he learns his lesson because in the way of moral tales of the era, he does eventually gain some of his sight back.

Yes, it's very much a morality tale in this regard. A little too pat for my taste maybe.

I don't know, I doubt I'll ever be comfortable with someone as uncontrollable as Rochester first appears to be getting broken down so that, in effect, his woman can manage him. Is this uncharitable? I should probably shut up about a book I haven't read!

>25 southernbooklady: Yes yes, sorry. St. John. I don't know why "Christian" was stuck in my head.

Perhaps because his character is Super-Christian-Dude

I have been following this conversation with interest. It surprises me how difficult it is for me to come up with further examples.

One that occurs to me is The Female Man, which I think really captures women's anger very well. But on the other, it may be quite inaccessible and easily dismissed with all the usual stereotypes.

I don't think anyone is managing anyone else. He's no longer the clueless twit that he was, he now has respect for her. She thinks it's okay for her to be back with him because they still love each other, and he is no longer married, and she no longer has to worry about essentially being bought by him (since now she has her own wealth and is no longer that poor girl she was). His suffering has nothing to do with anything except that it helped him to wake up and see what he was doing to the people around him.

>27 LolaWalser: she thinks it's okay for her to be back with him once he's not only "single" but, importantly, suffering. (Or, anyway, that the author saw this--Rochester's helplessness--as a necessary pre-condition of their being together.)

Jane returns to him without knowing that he is suffering. That's not in the cards at all.

As for whether Charlotte Bronte thought he deserved to suffer, it's an open question. The idea of being punished for your sins was a popular one so I have no doubt it's part of what made the story popular. But she didn't write Jane that way.

>30 .Monkey.:, >31 southernbooklady:

Yes, okay, sorry for prolonging the digression.

Jane returns to him without knowing that he is suffering.

Right, I didn't mean just the point of return--she returns because whatever but then marries him etc. knowing to what he's been reduced. Would she have felt it was right to do so if that hadn't been the case? If, say, he'd just been lightly injured--broke a leg or something--instead of becoming an invalid, and met up with her physically the same person he used to be? Of course he could (would, I suppose, as I agree he's not meant to be a heartless ogre) have still felt very very sorry, guilty etc.

The idea of being punished for your sins was a popular one so I have no doubt it's part of what made the story popular. But she didn't write Jane that way.

You mean Jane the character doesn't feel he's been justly punished for his sins? I'll take your word for it!

>29 sturlington:

I think books by men should be in the running too, if that helps!

I guess what bothers me, essentially, is the idea that physical suffering could or should make us better people.

>32 LolaWalser: Right, I didn't mean just the point of return--she returns because whatever but then marries him etc. knowing to what he's been reduced. Would she have felt it was right to do so if that hadn't been the case?

It is narrative symmetry, isn't it? Compared to Miss Ingram who, although presumably of some standing, wouldn't marry him if he were poor. Jane, now being financially self-sufficient, has no qualms about marrying him in spite of his reduced circumstances.

As for the necessity of physical suffering that's a whole other aspect to the book that probably deserves its own treatment. There is a lot, a lot, of physical suffering in that book. (It's hard not to see shades of the Bronte household here). The noble Helen, the school where the children are all starved, Jane herself roaming the countryside starving to death....suffering-the horror of it and the nobility of the one who suffers -- it all gets pretty obsessive treatment in the book.

>33 LolaWalser: I guess what bothers me, essentially, is that physical suffering could or should make us better people.

I think Bronte addresses this concept in the scenes in Jane's school. The physical torment is a horror--young Jane is wild with indignation and fury at the injustices visited on herself and other girls. But endurance and self-containment in the face of others' caprice is greatly admired.

So is the purpose of this thread for men to read books that are from a female perspective, and focus on female characters, but which are still strongly situated within a heteronormative framework where women's relationships with men, or their pushback against their expected relationships with men, are still the most important thing in the women's lives? Or is it, as elisa.saphier suggested back in post 7, to suggest books where men are not at the center? Because I see a heck of a lot of talking about men, men, men in this thread.

Jane, now being financially self-sufficient, has no qualms about marrying him in spite of his reduced circumstances.

But she didn't have qualms about marrying him before either. (And I meant reduced physically, bodily, btw.)

What happens to Rochester physically seems to me to detract from his--necessary-- psychological transformation. He should feel bad about what he did to Bertha and Jane, but to have him suffer in body only, IMO, serves to distract from that. It has a gratuitously sadistic overtone to me, like a hint of the traditional Christian hell--this is what you get to suffer for being bad, but... so what? So it hurts and is unpleasant, but can that really change what you are?

Physical suffering is beside the point; bad people feel physical pain no less than the good ones.

>32 LolaWalser: But I want men to read more books by women. Isn't this essentially part of the problem, that a lot of men just completely dismiss all work by women?

I'm not thinking or writing very articulately today, so I can't mount a good defense of my choices at this moment, but here are some books that helped me understand myself better as a woman: The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, The Handmaid's Tale and Cat's Eye by Margaret Atwood, The Female Man by Joanna Russ, Lilith's Brood by Octavia Butler and everything by Jane Austen.

If I were going to pick a book by a man to add, it would be Howards End by E.M. Forster.

>36 LolaWalser: You know the one thing I don't get about the whole thing...not that Jane was willing to marry him, but that the entire household was willing to let it happen. Sure, Jane didn't know about Bertha. But everyone else did. How creepy is that?

>35 lorax: Lola's suggestion is what I was going for: a list of books MEN should read, with a clear and strongly expressed intention of introducing them to point of views they as men are not likely to have.>

>35 lorax:

Yes, sorry, the thread drifted!

>37 sturlington:

Right, but there are many--as lorax points out--different angles and points of view that get neglected, including, say, that of gay or trans-men; and, also, there must be some books by men that show sensitivity to these points of view?

But I only suggested that as a way to expand the possibilities...

I would add Stone butch blues by Leslie Feinberg (this was on the alternative Esquire's list too), because it is an excellent, profoundly affecting look at a rare life--the kind of book that is still rare, even as society becomes more aware of the people existing outside the gender binary, and more caring about people of not-straight sexual orientations.

I wonder whether Written on the Body would belong on the list. It's not my favorite Winterson (that will always be Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit), and the writing is not necessarily her very best --too self-consciously clever, I think. But its deliberate obscuring of the gender of the first person speaker does make the reader think about the assumptions we make about gender. Does it "teach us" anything about other points of view? Probably not. But does it show us how we take our own perspective for granted? I think it does.

>42 southernbooklady:

it's been ages since I read that, only remember I thought it was great (and with you on Oranges... as her best)

I wonder whether Written on the Body would belong on the list.

I suggest everyone just make suggestions, explaining why as much as they feel is necessary, without undue pressure.

The discussions are the really interesting thing here--more important than the list, perhaps!

Does it "teach us" anything about other points of view?

One thing about Esquire's old list, it was entirely non-didactic. The audience it was addressed to had their prejudices, predilections, whatever, reinforced more or less casually, merely through narrative.

I think it's more interesting (within the conversation about Esquire and its list) to try to match that with a set of books of similar genre--otherwise, of course, nothing could possibly beat some feminist/gender studies coursework when it comes to "teaching" points of view.

Men should read... Dykes to watch out for!! (Especially men running the comic festival in Angoulême...;))

Why: because it is a whole world in which other-than-straight-white-male-cisgender viewpoints rule.

>32 LolaWalser:

sheesh! i leave to run an errand and then go to work, and then actually work for a bit, and this thread explodes! i'm loving reading it, just sorry to have missed so much.

Right, I didn't mean just the point of return--she returns because whatever but then marries him etc. knowing to what he's been reduced. Would she have felt it was right to do so if that hadn't been the case?

i'd say that actually, she married him in spite of it. like nicki said, jane wasn't about punishing people or seeing them "reduced" because of past actions. she loves him, and she loves herself, and she won't compromise herself for her love for him, and then she won't compromise that love for him for society. she's quite impressive actually.

>41 LolaWalser: I would add Stone butch blues by Leslie Feinberg (this was on the alternative Esquire's list too), because it is an excellent, profoundly affecting look at a rare life

I thought that was an inspired suggestion as well.

The thing I do worry about in a list of "books from other points of view" is...and I hope I'm explaining this correctly...tokenism. I don't want a list of politically correct books about different not-white-men who have persevered in a man's world, if that makes any sense. There was a checklist quality to the alternate Esquire list that bugged me.

I'm interested in books that make us understand what it is like to be a not-white-male person in this world. That was the great strength of Between the World and Me -- Coates makes you feel how dangerous and scary it is to be black in America. You can't distance yourself from it. You can't say "oh, that was then, things are better now" or "oh, isn't he a remarkable person to have overcome such obstacles" as if the author were an especially precocious child skipping a grade or something. Instead, Coates showed us that the America we white people think exists is a profoundly different place for a black person.

So that's what I'm getting at when I talk about books that make us question our assumptions, like Written on the Body, or that are just not male-centric, like Jane Eyre or A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. I don't want people to read these books as curiosities. I want them to read such books because they are relevant. I want men to understand that Stone Butch Blues is relevant, that their own lives include people like Feinberg, and that is normal.

>45 overlycriticalelisa:

I love the way you put it. Yes, I think Jane is impressive by any standards.

>46 southernbooklady:

I don't want a list of politically correct books about different not-white-men who have persevered in a man's world, if that makes any sense. There was a checklist quality to the alternate Esquire list that bugged me.

Agreed. I get entirely what you're saying, and that's the hardest bit--how do we "match" what systemic, structural discrimination is doing, without descending into preachiness, or being painfully self-conscious (although, who, for instance, is more self-conscious than Hemingway, say?)

It could very well be that the old Esquire list CAN'T be matched in this sense--at all, or not by seeking among the classics. And yet, our present output may not abound in examples of matching literary quality or overall importance (well, the latter almost by necessity, as classics become important through a positive feedback loop contemporary works didn't have the time to profit from).

I don't want people to read these books as curiosities. I want them to read such books because they are relevant. I want men to understand that Stone Butch Blues is relevant, that their own lives include people like Feinberg, and that is normal.

Yes, absolutely. I sometimes wonder at how inflexibly monotonously some men view the world, how it never occurs to them that something--someone--is missing. In several groups here I've observed groups of white straight men congratulating themselves on their "diversity" when all that was meant is that A thought oranges and B thought apples.

But, to get back to your point, it gets difficult--for me at least--to introduce stuff without feeling like there are trumpets going off. Ideally, that would be happening in the course of our lives of itself--and is happening for some, I think--you'd grow up gently knowing people are myriad in their design and character and yet not less for that lovable and loving.

Late to this thread, but fascinated by the discussion. I'm realizing, in reading your views on Jane Eyre, just how influenced my reading of the book was by reading Wide Sargasso Sea first. I never for an instance found Rochester sympathetic because I was seeing him the way Jean Rhys does.

I second Handmaid's Tale for the list. My fiance cites it as his favorite novel of all time (caveat: he is not much of a fiction reader) and I remember when he read it, early on in our relationship, that he said how the book proved to him that even systems that are "bad" for everyone -- in this case, theocracy -- are actually WORSE for women. Bad isn't just bad.

Nonfiction, but I have suggested many men I've known in academia and research fields read Rebecca Solnit's essay "Men Explain Things to Me" so that they would stop explaining things to women.

>48 sparemethecensor:

I haven't read Atwood, but Men explain things to me sounds a must! (Have read the article, not the book.)

Two more books that I'd recommend would be Dorothy Allison's short story collection, Trash, and Audre Lorde's memoir, Zami, a new spelling of my name. Trash is just a great collection of snapshots of southern lesbian life. Very forthright, a little less mature in her language than Bastad out of Caroliina, but the voice is true. My favorite story is "A Lesbian Appetite" -- where Allison is remembering all her lovers by the food she ate with them. It's a great piece of eroticism and female desire.

Zami is more autobiography, but it is also a memoir told in terms of the women in Lorde's life. So once again, desire, falling in lust and in love, is the over all theme. (It's also a great portrait of Harlem and the Village in the 50s-70s).

>50 southernbooklady:

Allison is fantastic. Have not read Lorde yet. We're on a roll now!

I'm going to say Maira Kalman's The Principles of uncertainty, because it is splendid.

Anne Frank's diary

Can't muster the whys...

>49 LolaWalser: You should read it. Solnit is also a fan oif Woolf and wrote a fascinating essay about her.

>53 sturlington:

That woman is getting in the way on altogether too many of "my" themes! ;) No, it's great and I'm definitely reading it... don't know why I waited so long.

Men should read... Natalie Angier's Woman: an intimate geography. Also, Cordelia Fine's Delusions of Gender: How Our Minds, Society and Neurosexism Create Difference.

The Story of an African Farm is about the fate of two sisters, Em and Lyndall, and the boy/farmhand they grew up with, Waldo. Each one defies the expectations of society to take control over their own fate. There is even a suitor who, when he is abandoned by Lyndall, follows her and dresses up as a woman/nurse to care for her when she falls ill.

So Long a Letter by Mariama Ba is my latest book to rave about -- a women writing a friend about the death of her husband, ends up describing the important moments in her life as the first wife in polygamous Muslim household. The language is beautiful, even in the English translation, but it was originally written in French and I'd like to read it in that language.

a favorite of mine, that I don't think many people have heard about, is Elsa, I come with my songs -- Elsa Gidlow's late memoir. In truth, she's probablly better known as a poet -- I dug up a battered copy of Sapphic Songs in a used bookstore in Boston when I came out and for awhile it went with me everywhere. But the memoir is a great portrait of a life created, especially at a time when almost nothing was being written about being lesbian. She called herself "a warrior poet" and was friends with Alan Watts, Gary Snyder, and a bunch of the Californian zen types. I used to have a postcard photo of her on my fridge that had a quote from one of her poems: "In a land of oranges, I am faithful to apples."

Another beautiful story, fiction, is Yasime Ghata's The Calligrapher's Night. It's the fictionalized account of the author's grandmother, a very famous calligrapher named Rikkat Kunt. This is another story about a woman who takes her own life into her hands and creates something out of it. Follows a calling, if you will, despite what society expects of her. The book is book a beautiful account of an artist, and of a woman who lives for the art.

>21 LolaWalser: I've only read three--Pride and prejudice, Emma and Persuasion, and I think I'd plump for Persuasion ahead of other two, but I'm not sure why.

Meant to respond to this. Persuasion is my favorite Austen novel because 1) Anne Elliot talks books and 2) she is mature and self-possessed. She always acts according to her own conscience, rather than society's dictates (much to the frustration of even the people who value her, like her mother's friend). She also does not fly off into a dither, but trust her own judgment in matters of people and their character. So that when, for example, she realizes that Captain Wentworth is jealous of the attention her no-account cousin is paying her, she is not unduly worried because she realizes they must understand each other eventually. She trusts herself. It was a hard won trust, but it carries her through.

this is turning into a list of books that *i* should read as i've read so few of them.

>57 overlycriticalelisa: Same here... Feeling low about my reading right about now!

>57 overlycriticalelisa:, >58 sparemethecensor:

Me three! :) But don't feel low--this is great.

>56 southernbooklady:

Thanks for that, just the perfect rationale.

>55 southernbooklady:

Wow, must get Gidlow, first time I hear of her. Ghata too, although I saw it around, it didn't register as non-fiction.

Ghata isn't nonfiction. It's a (short) novel, so "fictionalized."

>60 southernbooklady:

Oh yes, you said so--but the calligrapher grandmother existed, right?

Oh yes. Turkish calligrapher -- in an era when women didn't practice and when Arabic was being de-emphasized by the Turkish government. She was especially known for her skill in illumination with gold leaf, and there are a number of modern well known calligraphers that studied under her.

I spent all night thinking about this conversation!

Some random musings over my morning coffee

>47 LolaWalser: It could very well be that the old Esquire list CAN'T be matched in this sense--at all, or not by seeking among the classics. And yet, our present output may not abound in examples of matching literary quality or overall importance

and

I sometimes wonder at how inflexibly monotonously some men view the world, how it never occurs to them that something--someone--is missing.

I had an argument with a friend over the notion of literary quality vs. diversity -- he came from the position that to acknowledge the latter was a de facto sacrifice of the former. And after some thought I've decided that isn't true. Diversity is not a sacrifice, it is an expansion of our understanding of art. Our established "canon". . . which even Harold Bloom concedes is a "Western" canon. . .is only canon to a particular culture--a mostly white, male, Christian-leaning culture. It's universality -- whatever it is in these works that we think speaks to all human beings -- fights and struggles against the narrow, restricted world-view that created them.

There are other cultures, other perspectives that have that same claim to both artistic merit and universality as Shakespeare, and they are not "lesser" because we of the English-speaking world have not been paying attention to them. Consider China--a culture more ancient and more artistically advanced than our European one. Does the Shijing have less merit or significance than the Iliad? Is less worthy of inclusion in this aristocracy of literature? It is entirely possible that more people have read and adored this classic collection of Chinese poetry than have read and adored Shakespeare. The question is, why don't we want to read it? Why don't we want to have our eyes opened to this wider understanding of what means to be a human being?

People talk about "affirmative action" like it's this paternalistic and condescending thing that seeks to make other peoples and cultures "more white." But I'll tell you what it really is--it's a way to rescue a culture--white, western culture--from its own narrow outlook, its own self-absorption, its own myopia. We aren't doing Wole Soyinka a favor by adding him to our list of great books that we should read. He's doing us the favor.

And yeah, we white English speaking people lose our spot as the center of the known universe. That's a good thing. The universe is a much, much bigger and more beautiful place if we'd only take the trouble to look around.

So when it comes to introducing new voices "without feeling like there are trumpets going off" as Lola puts it, I think the key is to approach every new voice in a spirit of openness (god, that sounds wishy washy and new agey, sorry) -- with the assumption that they have something to say and it is worth hearing what that is.

So, in that spirit of openness, here are a couple other books that came to mind that I think are worth reading because they challenge our complacency, make the world a bigger more beautiful place, say things worth hearing, and say them well:

Letters from a War Zone by Andrea Dworkin -- a more personal collection of essays, not as focused as her other books and hence not as polemical, but a more, well, immediate encounter with the full passion and rage of the force of nature that was Andrea Dworkin.

If Women Counted by Marilyn Waring -- this might be a little dated, but it is the first book I ever read that gave a full account of what is meant in economic terms of "women's work." It really made me aware of scale of it, the value of it that is invisible or excluded in a patriarchal assessment of what things are worth. It's a great analysis of the relationship between women and poverty.

On Lies, Secrets, and Silence is probably my favorite Adrienne Rich essay collection. Espeically the essay "On Women and Honor: Some Notes on Lying." It's more a series of ruminations than a thought-out and constructed piece, so it ranges over the breadth of concepts like "honor" and what it means for women who are forced to live "in a lie" and how to unlearn this habit in order to realize our true selves.

The Hairdresser of Harare by Tendai Huebu has been slowly gaining a following in the US. I came across it on a list of books published by The African Books Collective -- they send me an email every now and then about books published in Africa. This novel, set in Zimbabwe, is about a young woman, single mother, trying to maintain her independence when family and society thinks she should get herself married and under the protection of a man as soon as she can manage it. Her position as the best hairdresser in the salon she works at is threatened when a young man comes in and turns out to be far better than she. But what should have been a rivalry develops into a friendship, and deep regard. The man has his own social conventions he is trying to escape and in the end they sort of save each other.

And I did want to say that Claudia Rankine's Citizen, which is on the Esquire alternative list, is very much a book that belongs in this collection. It is a searing, inescapable account of the hundred thousand assumptions we make with our everyday language and how insidiously poisonous they can be, how careless we can all be when we are trying to speak to each other. I read it twice.

>63 southernbooklady: Did you mean Citizen: An American Lyric? The touchstone Citizen is going to Jon Stewart's book America (The Book) A Citizen's guide to Democracy.

>64 Taphophile13: thanks. fixed.

>63 southernbooklady:

I must go out soon and don't have time to think and answer properly, but I want to say in advance you put your finger on several crucial things...

the notion of literary quality vs. diversity -- he came from the position that to acknowledge the latter was a de facto sacrifice of the former.

Yes, I've seen this too and it appals me. I don't get it--are they associating diversity with tokenism and "political correctness" so much they lose sight of the natural, factual, ubiquitous diversity of humans? Sometimes I get the impression that some people think of blacks, gays, any "other", as practically an invention of the "SJW"s.

But I'll tell you what it really is--it's a way to rescue a culture--white, western culture--from its own narrow outlook, its own self-absorption, its own myopia. We aren't doing Wole Soyinka a favor by adding him to our list of great books that we should read. He's doing us the favor.

THIS. Absolutely. Do you remember in Coates' book (I quoted it somewhere already), when he mentions Saul Bellow's question "who is the Tolstoy of the Zulus", the response: "Tolstoy is the Tolstoy of the Zulus"? Setting "the Zulus" apart from Tolstoy is locking ourselves up apart from the rest of humanity.

spirit of openness

This is HUGELY important and not just regarding diversity; I wonder increasingly whether there isn't a problem with how we read in general. I don't mean to distract from the point about disposing ourselves to be receptive to diversity--it IS the point--it's just that I wonder whether the habit (which may be on the increase? or, at least, is dominant among readers?) of reading as a consumer doesn't make for an insidious primary barrier to appreciation and understanding of others' points of view.

What do I mean by "reading as a consumer"--I mean reading with the mentality with which we go to a restaurant or a show: here's my money and you damn well please me and give me good service--and "I know what I want"--"I know what I need" (probably not doing a good job explaining here...)

I mean approaching something with pre-knowledge of what it is and what it ought to do, and it better not be or do anything we didn't want or couldn't predict. When I buy a chocolate mousse, it damn well better not taste like fried grasshoppers.

But going to books with that mindset is really devastating in a way--you'd hardly ever encounter something different, or be able to appreciate it.

This openness you mention is really a necessary precondition for a meaningful reading career, as opposed to one of "consumption".

Omg, must go--sorry for throwing all this out so messily--that was a great post and I'll come back to it.

>66 LolaWalser: I wonder whether the habit (which may be on the increase? or, at least, is dominant among readers?) of reading as a consumer doesn't make for an insidious primary barrier to appreciation and understanding of others' points of view.

I think you're talking about reading as an exercise in re-affirming what we think we already know, rather than reading as an exorcise in exploration and discovery. Reading that holds up a mirror instead of a window. I like to joke that I'll read anything except diet books, but in truth there are whole areas of literature I shy away from because they make me feel constrained. In the American South there is a genre devoted to women-friends-supporting-each-other-through-life's-crises that bores me to tears, frankly. It feels like a genre of literature dedicated to convincing women to make do with what they've got. I'm also not a fan of the military-male-fantasy-adventure story, which I tend to find sort of ridiculous.

But it is probably true that we, as human beings, tend to gravitate towards and surround ourselves with like-minded people. I don't read too much conservative political or philosophical literature, for example, because I just don't agree with it. But what I do think we tend to forget, in our quest to pad out our comfort zones, is that "like-minded" people -- people we can connect with -- come in all sorts of varieties and colors and from all sorts of unexpected places. I don't suppose any of my neighbors would have thought they'd find friendship with a lesbian atheist, but we're friends -- even good friends. So I guess that's why I say I like books that upset my apple cart. Because it always surprises me, in a great way, how easy it is to connect with these other voices.

Am a male lurker on this thread. I've read a fair number of these titles but there are many others for which I have catching up to do. An author who looms large for me, though I came to her belatedly for all the wrong reasons, is Willa Cather. Any thoughts about her?

I'll have to go through my books for some more ideas, but I strongly second the suggestion of The Handmaid's Tale. Or pretty much anything else Atwood writes.

>68 krolik: Willa Cather. Any thoughts about her?

I love Willia Cather. When I think of her, I think of our ties to "the land." Place seems like a fundamental aspect to her work, at least in my mind. But the book I'm most fond of is not My Antonia--although that is lovely--it's Song of the Lark, probably because I have an affinity for stories about people who pursue their artistic vision. As must be clear to everyone by now.

>69 Nickelini: The Handmaid's Tale is a phenomenal story, but I have to admit, it seriously creeps me out. I think I've only read it a couple times, and could never make myself revisit it, even though I like to re-read books that are important to me. The thing is, I never felt like the story was a science fiction tale of the future. It felt like an allegory of the now. The same way that 1984 feels. Satire, sure, but also eerily true.

>68 krolik: The only book by Willa Cather I've read is My Antonia, but my sense is that her importance comes from the fact that the western frontier of the United States was seen as a man's world -- rugged, dangerous, wild, empty and waiting for a man to conquer it (with all the problematic elements that entails, most prominent of which is erasure of Native Americans). Cather was the first person credited with showing women also participate in the movement west and can also stake a claim to western identity (including immigrant identity) and the sense of place that >70 southernbooklady: mentions.

>70 southernbooklady: I completely agree. It didn't feel far in the future. More like three or four laws away from what social conservatives have already done.

>70 southernbooklady: about the handmaid's tale: It felt like an allegory of the now. totally. that's its genius. she uses nothing that hasn't already happened in history to show how real this all actually is. and for me, that's one of the reasons it's so important, because it's not some fantasy or reworking of the world that we all would read as "never going to happen" and so safe to read, to some extent. she might not have been particularly intending to, but she's saying the opposite (this can happen and is happening), so do something!

Florence King died a few days ago -- news that became sort of buried under the global outpouring of grief about David Bowie (talk about someone who viewed the world differently). Anyway, I'm revisiting King in a kind of personal tribute, and wondering whether or not I'd include her in my list of books men should read.

Politically, she and I are pretty opposite each other -- I'm exactly the kind of wishy-washy liberal she despised and I don't have any patience with her anti-abortion stance. But her ruthless clarity about our cultural pretensions are spot on, and the heaping amounts of scorn she has for them is pretty refreshing. A friend of mine called her "a true square peg" and I find myself sorry that her voice will no longer be haranguing us.

“If any of us had heard the word "feminist" we would have thought it meant a girl who wore too much makeup, but we were, without knowing it, feminists ourselves, bound together by the freemasonry that exists among intelligent women who know they are intelligent. It is the only kind of female bonding that works, which is why most men do not like intelligent women. They don't mind one female brain if they can enjoy it privately; it's the idea of two or more on the loose that upsets them. The girls in the college-bound group might not have been friends in every case--Sharon Cohen and I gave each other willies--but our instincts told us that we had the same enemies.”

― Florence King, Confessions of a Failed Southern Lady

I'm a big fan of giving genre (specifically fantasy as that's the genre I read the most) fiction to men that's been written by women and have a female protagonist because women have grown up connecting to boys/men having adventures just fine and men should be able to connect to girls/women having adventures (and should definitely be challenged to)

Plus it's super fun to listen to them dig themselves into holes when they try to explain that they can connect to non-human protagonist but can't connect to a female protagonist

>73 southernbooklady:

Interesting, never heard of her.

>67 southernbooklady:

I think you're talking about reading as an exercise in re-affirming what we think we already know, rather than reading as an exorcise in exploration and discovery.

What I have in mind is more of a conversation, with its attitude of listening and addressing, and how we position ourselves in regard to strangers. Regardless of whatever prejudices, expectations etc. we bring into any contact, we are by and large capable of discerning and accepting the basic features of other's self as their self. On meeting X for the first time, we take in what they look like and sound like simply as "what they are".

We have an unlimited capacity for "receiving" the diversity of people in this sense, and accepting that said diversity can vary enormously, even infinitely if we take in account our science fiction fantasies. (There are stories in which human heroes communicate with rocks or sentient clouds of gas.)

It is a kind of openness, very basic and practically unconscious. Translated to books, I'd see it as the ability to "meet", to see in any kind of text, meaning voice, a form one can communicate with.

(Nothing to do with "quality", content, or personal preferences; "form" is general.)

>76 LolaWalser: Translated to books, I'd see it as the ability to "meet", to see in any kind of text, meaning voice, a form one can communicate with.

I'm not sure I understand. Sure, the ability to "meet" is there, but the reader needs to have a willingness to listen or the ability remains unutilized. That willingness is awarded somewhat arbitrarily, based on all sorts of things, including personal preferences and pre-conceived ideas about the content. So I guess when I talk about a spirit of openness, I'm referring to the ability to grant that willingness to listen without any preconceptions or assumptions.

>77 southernbooklady:

Well, I was talking about something that comes before consciously granting anything, as in the mere act of looking at someone you've never seen and noting what they look like and sound. I'm saying that (seems to me) many reject even that much when it comes to books, making a barrier already of form, before getting to content and anything else. Being stumped by, say, a 16th century pamphlet or a 19th century novel, or experimental this or that--being unable to see it as a form to communicate with and rejecting even the sound of that voice, before one even gets to any "message".

Before the openness you mention that hinges on "granting willingness", there's another, more basic, unconscious kind of openness that means simply recognising something as a voice.

I could be wrong in connecting this ability to enter into dialogue with any kind of form to the ability to accept diversity, it's just that to me it seems to be the same thing. And if the former is jeopardised (as I suspect), then the latter would suffer.

Some suggestions that come to my mind:

The Stone Angel by Margaret Laurence (1964). is the interior monologue of a woman in her nineties as she reviews and rages about her life as a wife and mother, and, with all the strength she can muster, rebels. Worldcat suggests that it's still pretty widely available in public libraries.

The Book of Eve by Constance Beresford-Howe (1973). Eve, a pensioner who has never worked, has had enough of her bed-ridden, demanding husband and simply walks out with just the clothes she's wearing and makes a life.

Under this unbroken sky by Shandi Mitchell (2009?) Frontier lit. Read this if you ever think you're having a bad day ...

and that brings to mind Susan Glaspell's 1916 one-acter Trifles, which says a lot of what the other titles I've listed say, but with such concision and force. It's a gem.

Thanks. I keep running into Laurence's book but I'm not familiar with the other authors. I'm especially interested in that 1916 title.

For some reason, Ursula Le Guin's short story collection The Compass Rose comes to mind as a possibility. It came out in the 80s, I think, and the theme was "direction." But in terms of seeing the world through another perspective there were several stories that have stayed with me all this time. One was a story about a revolutionary in an ant hill, "The Author of the Acacia Seeds" -- where interpreting what happened depends very much on being able to understand existence from the perspective of an ant (a female ant, actually).

The other was a story called "Sur" -- it's kind of fantasy about a group of women who take a secret expedition to the South Pole -- and indeed are the first to arrive there, succeeding where Scott failed. But unlike all the male adventurers who have been determined make the quest, the women aren't interested in planting flags. It sort of turns all the manly polar adventure stories on their head.

I think this news might belong here, because it has the potential to bring the understanding of diversity I was rambling about about above ("spirit of openness") to a national level.

Lisa Lucas named director of the National Book Foundation

You might know her as the force behind Guernica -- one of the better publications about the intersection between art and politics. I think Lucas is an inspired choice.

Off topic, sorry.

Yesterday this came up in my facebook feed, surprisingly. It's definitely something men should read, albeit not a book. It's long, and I admittedly skimmed some of it, but it's worth checking out.

Never mind.

>84 Bookmarque: Really? Because the first thing I saw is that it's by Tucker Max and the second thing I saw is that it's from a book that refers to relationships as "mating." I read the first couple paragraphs but got concerned it was going to be about how you should use knowledge that women are afraid of rape in your pick-up artistry. Barf. Not sure I can the rest.

Well, don't read it if you don't want to. I did yesterday and it was pretty spot on.

I read about 1/2 of it and it got more and more offensive.

>84 Bookmarque:, >85 sparemethecensor: Okay, that piece made me cringe from start to finish. What's it doing in the "Business and Tech" section?

Wow, you guys are a tough room.

Well, you did post something written by someone who, when you Google him, comes up as "noted misogynist Tucker Max."

Well, I'll take it down.

This is not an echo chamber! You shouldn't feel like you have to take it down because others didn't like it. What about it did you connect with?

Head Off & Split by Nikky Finney

http://www.npr.org/2012/04/08/149936338/the-beauty-and-difficulty-of-poet-nikky-...

Finney's acceptance speech at the awards ceremony was as poetic as anything in her winning book. Finney says she worked on the speech through 39 drafts and she felt good about it, but she's still stunned by the response she's gotten.

"People write me. Strangers. North Dakota, Hawaii," she says. "There's a man in Egypt who said, 'Please send me your book, I can't get it. I heard your acceptance speech.' Hundreds of just overtures that have less to do with the poetry and more to do with that acceptance speech."

Here's a link to her speech:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BFSiKx-hzks (she comes in at about 4 minutes in)

>93 southernbooklady: Here's a link to her speech:

Holy Shit!!!

Thanks for the link!

>91 Bookmarque: Hey, I hope you didn't feel like we were piling on. What I found problematic about that article was that it was still othering and objectifying women even as it was purporting to do the opposite. It is always reductive to claim that all members of a group behave or think or feel a certain way, just because they happen to share the same gender, in this case.

I think evolutionary biology can be seductive because it can provide justification for all sorts of behavior: "Hey, this is how we were evolved to be! Women were evolved to guard their eggs, men were evolved to sow their seed widely, so let's do what comes naturally!" It disregards our human ability to reason, to project into the future and visualize consequences of our actions, to make conscious decisions and act on them. For instance, as a species, humans exhibit biological characteristics that would predispose us to polygyny, or living in harem arrangements; these characteristics can be seen in other mammals that do live this way. Clearly, the majority of us have rejected that for various reasons. So no, we are not slaves to our biology.

It also disregards what we are coming to understand about human behavior--that it is not binary but exhibits on a spectrum. Behaviors that we have come to think of as "feminine" may exhibit anywhere from an extreme degree to none at all in different women--and in men, too. Which makes acting as if they are characteristic of all women pretty useless.

(That doesn't even take into account that women, like men, want different things and have different priorities at different times in their lives--that we are all changing as we go along and aren't just static flies caught in amber.)

These books and articles take as a given that there is a magic method to understanding women, as if women were an alien species that is completely incomprehensible to men without some sort of decoder key. But there really is no difference between understanding women and understanding men, if you think of all of us as human. Over my lifetime, I have read thousands of books written by men with male protagonists, and I think this is about as close as one person can get to inhabiting another person's brain. And very rarely, if never, have I felt like I'm peering in at some other species that I am incapable of really understanding. Men as individuals are varied and complex and represent the wide range of behaviors of which human beings are capable. Well, so are women. If men want to "understand" women--that is, get to know different women as the individuals they are--they should try talking to them and reading what they write.

Now, as for understanding people, I still struggle a lot with that one. :-)

I thought that article was irredeemable dreck and the author a piece of shit I'd give the widest berth to, supposing I couldn't give him a solid three-hour thrashing with a baseball bat.

So sorry. Didn't know about this thread or I would have posted the other list here instead of in http://www.librarything.com/topic/220307. Anyway, short post only so I can follow this too now.