And the worst thing about it is that, as the semester is about to begin next week (and it will be a very busy semester indeed, with teaching, taking classes, and administering a reading series and writing contest), I must retire most of these books because they have nothing to do with what I am going to be working on in the immediate future. The good thing is that, because they have been checked out from a university library (instead of a local community library), none of them are due until late November, and I can renew those for another 4-6 months once the due date approaches. So my plan is to hang on to them (yes, one might even say “hoard” them) in spite of the fact that I won’t have time to touch them in a few short days.

I’m not about to hang on to them for so long or so stubbornly that anyone will come to arrest me, I promise (I actually just received a notice today that one of the many books has been “recalled” and I am being forced to return it by the end of the month… *sigh*). But I was thinking, just as Christina discussed in a previous post, that if/when I die “alone,” I hope that whoever has the good fortune to find my body will take note of whatever books, journals, papers, and other reading material they find nearby. Because it’s ideas that I’m truly passionate about — as Christina is passionate about her cats and would be happy if they survived thanks to her dead body — and I hope it’s that “fact” of my true self that is noted when I die, not whether or not I died “alone.”

– L

“Value yourself for what the media doesn’t–your intelligence, your street smarts, your ability to play a kick-ass game of pool, whatever. So long as it’s not just valuing yourself for your ability to look hot in a bikini and be available to men, it’s an improvement.”

Full Frontal Feminism‘s text skips along while it imparts knowledge–a rare enough combination. The book condenses the contents of a thirteen-page bibliography into colloquial prose, presenting vivid example after vivid example of why we all (women *and* men) need to identify as feminists and buck the ridiculous stereotype that feminists are always hairy-legged man-haters. (Not that it isn’t sometimes delightful to forego shaving for weeks on end during the winter.)  

Don’t open this book if strong (some would say “foul”) language offends you in and of itself. But if you’re ready for a dose of hard-core truth about women’s ongoing struggle to even the playing field with men, then you’ll love this book. Valenti speaks her mind, but her style is not so much “in-your-face” as, “Hey, you’re a smart reader–once I tell you this shocking story, you’ll have the awareness and incentive to do better, to change things”.

I remember when the media were ragging on Hillary Clinton because of her headbands. As a frequent headband wearer myself at the time, I felt indignant. I didn’t scale back on my headband-wearing, but when I did wear them, a niggling part of me wondered whether they were as stylish as I had thought. So I was thrilled to see Valenti bring up the headband issue and carry it through with this example: ”While all women are subject to being judged by their appearance, women in leadership positions get it like crazy. . . former governor of Maryland and 2006 state comptroller William Donald Schaefer told a Washington Post reporter that his 2006 opponent, Janet Owens, is a ‘prissy little miss’ who wears ‘long dresses [and] looks like Mother Hubbard–it’s sort of like she was a man.’ He said in an interview, ‘She’s got these long clothes on and an old-fashioned hairdo. . . You know, it sort of makes you real mad.’ Uh huh. Can you imagine someone talking about the hairdo and clothes of a male candidate?”

Here’s another good one:

“In the same breath, President Bush managed to talk about his Healthy Marriage Initiative (the program that tells women on welfare that they don’t need a job, they need a man) and define marriage as a heterosexual institution. . . Clearly, romance has become the domain of the dollar–and the government. So I say let’s take it back. There’s no reason we can’t have fulfilling romantic lives without adhering to bullshit standards that are set before us. Mix it up. Create your own standards and your own romantic norms.” 

That’s Onely!

Above I said that Valenti’s style, while strong and direct, is respectful of her readers’ intelligence and decision-making capabilities. (A metaphor for feminist culture as a whole?) I only noticed one instance in the entire book where this style falters:

Background–Valenti firmly believes that women should keep their last names when they marry. So, as it happens, do I. I’m astonished that this remnant of the women-as-property days remains so ensconced and pervasive in society. However, my friends who have taken their husbands’ names say they do it as a loving gesture, a way to commit. So I was wondering how they would react to this in-your-face part of Full Frontal Feminism:

“While at the end of the day I’m not going to fault someone for wanting a ring, there are certain things (and maybe because they don’t have anything to do with jewelery) I can’t get over. For the life of me, I will never understand why a woman today would change her last name. It makes no sense whatsoever. You want future kids to have the same last name as you and your hubby? Hyphenate, bitch! Or do something, anything, but change your last name. It’s the ultimate buy-in of sexist bullshit. It epitomizes the idea that you are not your own person.”

My reaction was to laugh hysterically and add “Hyphenate, bitch!” to my not-yet-online quoteboard. Then I wanted to tell someone about this awesome line I read in a book–but all of a sudden I wasn’t sure whom to tell. Lisa, my Onely co-blogger, for sure.

But most of my friends are married, with changed last names, and of those who aren’t, I’m not sure how they feel about the whole issue. I could bring up the topic with them, but not necessarily the (to me) fabulous wording. The strong wording of the above paragraph, which so pleased me (because I happen agree with it), might have antagonized the people I wanted to share it with, if they weren’t on my same page about namechanging.

I guess that’s always the question–where is that line between straight-talk and and talk that puts people on the defensive so that they actually rebel against absorbing what you’re saying? Where is the line between refraining from saying something because you’re chickenshit afraid to offend a friend, or refraining from saying something our of respect for your friend’s judgement?

FFF walks that line but never crosses it except, maybe, just that once. However, I’d be interested to see what other readers think–especially readers who don’t necessarily *start* reading as Full Frontal Feminists already (which probably has skewed my impression of the book). So, comments anyone?????

Thanks to Penny for giving me this book! 

–CC