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Forgive me, for I have sinned. (Orlando/Three Lions/Hulton Archive/Getty Images)
Lost in thought again, I pace the humming street with my eyes down. They get into less trouble that way. If the pavements werenāt so cluttered with abandoned rented bicycles and e-scooters, Iād try walking backwards.
I am brooding over words I wrote several weeks ago when describing that species of social embarrassment called not knowing where to look when you pass a school playground of children. āIt takes me a moment to remember,ā I wrote, āthat a man wandering on his own must no longer pause to look at children running races in their mirth.āĀ I did not, I now think, adequately register the sadness of that loss.Ā Scurry from a playground for fear of appearing sinister and we might as well be scurrying from the vitality of life itself.
The worst part of being told youāre sinister for no other reason than that youāre a man out wandering on his own is that, eventually, you begin to fear you might be. But sinister how? Whatās the dread clutching at societyās heart? And why is it now clutching at mine?
I hear the children laughing and scuttle past. Hereās the tragedy of it: I am severed from the time when I laughed in a playground myself. The wistful music of continuity is stopped.
How many things are we no longer trusted to look at and admire?Ā I dare not freely name them because that too can be a species of offence.Ā So, I pace the streets with my eyes down, in order not to be surprised by beauty I must not let myself appreciate. The long, brown legs of high-stepping city women in their summer dresses?Ā Eugh!Ā The billowing of someoneās national dress, a fantastical headdress; a lovely child skipping in its self-absorption? Eugh, eugh!
The streetās forbidden fruits, waiting to ambush us the minute we lift our faces. Who are you looking at, mister? Wanna photograph?
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SubscribeThe experience the author describes is very similar to that of someone in a toxic relationship. The hyper vigilance, the feeling of treading on egg shells, or walking through a minefield. The sense that one false move will trigger an attack, blatant and open, or passive aggressive. That any defence, or excuse, will only make things worse. Whatever you do will be wrong.
And hereās the crux, Some of us, and in particular the dreaded middle class white male (though it changes with context), are living in such a toxic relationship with society. Weāre not beaten or bashed, but bullied nontheless. Made to think that anything we might do or think is potentially suspect. Anything that feels natural to us might be a sign that there is indeed something wrong with us.
And the answer is the same. Itās not a relationship we can realistically leave, but we need to recognise who is doing the bullying, who has the problem, who is the one who needs therapy. And clearly thatās the toxic masculinity merchants, the male gaze peddlers, the patriarchy fanatics and the rest. Stand up, be yourself, donāt be bullied into crawling around guiltily in a world you have as much right as anybody to inhabit.
Good point. We men are in an abusive relationship with the bullying woke class as a whole. What should we do? I suggest we do what the woke have done and be a bit more strident in our demands that they cease their bullying and demeaning tactics. Try to reinstitute adult to adult conversation that accepts we have different points of view and we should seek to rub along together. Bullying needs to be opposed.
Spot on.
Bullying needs to be called out for what it is. And if we attempt to have an adult conversation, only to face silencing treatment (poor men, mens tears, mansplaining and the rest) or blame shifting and gaslighting (thatās because men are victims of patriarchy too) – we should call that out too.
Use wit and satire and good argument. Draw them out, let them show themselves. Remember we are not trying to convert the bullies into nice people – that rarely happens – we are trying to show the nice people who the real bullies are.
If you’ve actually experienced verbally abusive behavior, that’s completely unacceptable, and I hope you call it out. The thing is, guessing what others are thinking based on what you read online and what you project to be their internal thoughts as you walk down the street, is not a reliable source of evidence.
But if someone falsely accuses you of predatory behavior, please call it out–everyone might learn something. I’ve never known a feminist who wouldn’t appreciate a discussion w/ an informed male about ways to improve interpersonal interactions between the sexes so that they’re more respectful. You might be surprised.
Yes, leculdesac, let’s call it out. But let’s not be naive. I have indeed met feminists who welcome nothing less than taking men seriously except as representatives of an oppressor class. But never mind that. The main problem here is not what this or that ideologue actually says or even thinks but the cultural climate in everyday life that we all internalize. How could it be otherwise after decades of the systemic degradation of men by both elite culture (academic, legal, political) and popular culture (journalism, entertainment)? This, not direct physical assault but indirect psychological assault, is the ultimate strategy of every current ideology. And now, thanks to wokism, we have a name for it: gaslighting.
‘But letās not be naive. I have indeed met feminists who welcome nothing less than taking men seriously except as representatives of an oppressor class.’
This was my reaction. Feminists detest any notion of male victimhood, because it undermines their theory that society is one big patriarchal campaign with the primary purpose of oppressing women. Their usual reaction to a sensible counter-argument is to call the interlocutor a misogynist.
‘But letās not be naive. I have indeed met feminists who welcome nothing less than taking men seriously except as representatives of an oppressor class.’
This was my reaction. Feminists detest any notion of male victimhood, because it undermines their theory that society is one big patriarchal campaign with the primary purpose of oppressing women. Their usual reaction to a sensible counter-argument is to call the interlocutor a misogynist.
Yes, leculdesac, let’s call it out. But let’s not be naive. I have indeed met feminists who welcome nothing less than taking men seriously except as representatives of an oppressor class. But never mind that. The main problem here is not what this or that ideologue actually says or even thinks but the cultural climate in everyday life that we all internalize. How could it be otherwise after decades of the systemic degradation of men by both elite culture (academic, legal, political) and popular culture (journalism, entertainment)? This, not direct physical assault but indirect psychological assault, is the ultimate strategy of every current ideology. And now, thanks to wokism, we have a name for it: gaslighting.
Spot on.
Bullying needs to be called out for what it is. And if we attempt to have an adult conversation, only to face silencing treatment (poor men, mens tears, mansplaining and the rest) or blame shifting and gaslighting (thatās because men are victims of patriarchy too) – we should call that out too.
Use wit and satire and good argument. Draw them out, let them show themselves. Remember we are not trying to convert the bullies into nice people – that rarely happens – we are trying to show the nice people who the real bullies are.
If you’ve actually experienced verbally abusive behavior, that’s completely unacceptable, and I hope you call it out. The thing is, guessing what others are thinking based on what you read online and what you project to be their internal thoughts as you walk down the street, is not a reliable source of evidence.
But if someone falsely accuses you of predatory behavior, please call it out–everyone might learn something. I’ve never known a feminist who wouldn’t appreciate a discussion w/ an informed male about ways to improve interpersonal interactions between the sexes so that they’re more respectful. You might be surprised.
“…in a world you have as much right as anybody to inhabit.” Amen.
That doesn’t sound very comfortable. It also sounds very familiar. As a female who was stalked & harassed from age 11 to my mid 40s (and depending on glasses/mask am occasionally accosted when my age isn’t apparent), I know all about walking with your eyes down, trying not to catch any man’s eye. They seem to be waiting to catch it–just anything to get a chance to invade your space, your day, your head. You couldn’t just walk into a restaurant, coffee shop, library, park, without some man deciding that sitting there by yourself actually was an invitation for him to come over and start his process of “getting in.” And then you have to be polite, right? You try to be, at first. But then it’s taken as a signal to proceed. So you let firm limits. Then you’re a “b***h.” In my day it was also “lesbian” and “crazy” and a “tease.” “Cold.” Smile more. “You’re into yourself.” You’re angry” (for reading a book on my own while sipping iced tea). You’re stuck up. You think you’re better than everyone. You’ve asked for it. Why are you attracting so much attention to yourself? Why can’t you be more friendly?
I’m a much more interesting and self-reflective person in my MILF years than I ever was in my babe years, and yet all of those humans who insisted that I was a b***h because I didn’t want to strike up conversations w/ every stranger suddenly don’t even see me. At least I can be more polite to male employees without fear they’ll “take it the wrong way.” But most men have this way of looking at you, as a woman, as either “fuckable” or “invisible” – meaning, they’re gay, or they think you’re too old, ugly, or fat to merit any acknowledgement whatsoever.
Dude, you’re blaming women for a world created by men. Get angry at the guys going around harassing females (and girls)–don’t say it’s “puritanism.” Puritanism was very male dominant and even more interested in controlling women’s behavior than men’s.
Maybe just look at the world as a human–not a predator or instrumentalist to whom female humans only matter insofar as they excite some genital arousal–and see what happens. If you’re heart’s in the right place, the truth will out.
Don’t stop seeing. Learn to see more broadly. Learn to see other humans first, not their value to your p***s.
Fascinating comment.
What you describe is a world foreign to most men, meaning most men have never ever lived in a world in which — if they’re sitting in a cafe, sipping an iced tea while reading a book — multiple women approach them and try to strike-up a conversation (with the hope of either an ‘encounter’ or a relationship). It simply does not happen. Zillions of us wish it did — but that wish, for probably half the human race, is fantasy (and distinctly fantasy not nightmare)
There was a study conducted some years ago on campus somewhere in which a moderately attractive young woman approached male college students at random, and asked them if they’d like to go back to the dorm and have sex with them. Something like 70% of all males enthusiastically agreed: ‘Sure, absolutely’. ZERO % of all women responded affirmatively when the same question was asked, in the same context, by a moderately attractive young male.
We live in different worlds; we see different things; we react in different ways; we bear different risks. We’re different.
And because the sexual dynamic is most typically male initiation/female response, the presence of a single, attractive woman in a cafe, reading a book is very easily seen as invitation. And if not invitation, opportunity. And men, being the traditional ‘initator’ are always looking for opportunity (especially in our young & single years). Thus the approach. It is entirely predictable.
Men approach women in cafes, in bookstores, on sidewalks, on dance floors, at parties, and sitting next to them in class. It’s what we do. If we waited until we were, ourselves, approached — God, we’d still be waiting, lonely, and clueless.
[Now I know this is not 100% true, 100% of the time, in 100% of all cases….but it does, indeed, represent the bulk of all experiences]
This initiating approach is not predation (though there are undoubtedly some predators out there); nor is it inhuman. Rather it is extraordinarily human and completely reflective of the biological fact that men and women are attracted to each other. It’s what makes the world go round.
But you’re right. There is a difference between an approach and a proposition….a difference between an initiating conversational question and harassment….a difference between a comment and an insult. And the problem, of course…the challenge: we see things differently. We inhabit the ‘Rashomon’ world of human sexual interaction in which the exact same thing, can be seen in two entirely different ways by the two entirely different people who were the players in any given drama.
If our heart’s in the right place, the truth will out!
Tell that to Harvey Weinstein et al.
Excellent comment and an accurate description of a reality that’s often ignored, obscured or denied.
Tell that to Harvey Weinstein et al.
Excellent comment and an accurate description of a reality that’s often ignored, obscured or denied.
“You couldnāt just walk into a restaurant, coffee shop, library, park, without some man deciding that sitting there by yourself actually was an invitation for him to come over and start his process of āgetting in.ā ”
The fascinating thing about this sort of statements is, that if ask any of my female friends or relatives how many times they were sitting in a restaurant, coffee shop etc, and were approached by a random stranger trying to “get in”, you will receive a weird stare.
It happens. But rarely, and usually it’s someone who is a mental case or socially deviant. I find this kind of statement highly suspicious because most men actually would find such behaviour obnoxious, and these statements are actually intended to gaslight and bully those men.
The other aspect is that men do of course have to take the responsibility of make the first move. And of course, face the risk of humiliation and the social anxiety that comes with it.
Like you Iāve done similar checks with female friends and relatives, with similar results. Clearly there are pests (and worse) out there, and Iāve even had to intervene a couple of times, but the picture the commenter paints does not ring true with any of the women Iāve spoken with.
I want to be completely fair and honest: some of them have encountered problems when out running: men slowing down and gawping; Iāve also seen a man exposing himself to multiple women in a pub (reported to security, suggested they called the police). So this stuff does happen. When it does, please always report it.
But this is not the paranoid picture the commenter paints of walking down the street in mortal fear lest a man tries to catch her eye:
ļ»æ
As you say, the men who do these things are extreme cases, quite often with mental health issues. The vast majority of men simply don’t have enough confidence to approach women, which is why their ability to do so increases significantly in a night club – due to good old drunken courage.
Like you Iāve done similar checks with female friends and relatives, with similar results. Clearly there are pests (and worse) out there, and Iāve even had to intervene a couple of times, but the picture the commenter paints does not ring true with any of the women Iāve spoken with.
I want to be completely fair and honest: some of them have encountered problems when out running: men slowing down and gawping; Iāve also seen a man exposing himself to multiple women in a pub (reported to security, suggested they called the police). So this stuff does happen. When it does, please always report it.
But this is not the paranoid picture the commenter paints of walking down the street in mortal fear lest a man tries to catch her eye:
ļ»æ
As you say, the men who do these things are extreme cases, quite often with mental health issues. The vast majority of men simply don’t have enough confidence to approach women, which is why their ability to do so increases significantly in a night club – due to good old drunken courage.
Amen! You echo the voices of millions of women.
Fascinating comment.
What you describe is a world foreign to most men, meaning most men have never ever lived in a world in which — if they’re sitting in a cafe, sipping an iced tea while reading a book — multiple women approach them and try to strike-up a conversation (with the hope of either an ‘encounter’ or a relationship). It simply does not happen. Zillions of us wish it did — but that wish, for probably half the human race, is fantasy (and distinctly fantasy not nightmare)
There was a study conducted some years ago on campus somewhere in which a moderately attractive young woman approached male college students at random, and asked them if they’d like to go back to the dorm and have sex with them. Something like 70% of all males enthusiastically agreed: ‘Sure, absolutely’. ZERO % of all women responded affirmatively when the same question was asked, in the same context, by a moderately attractive young male.
We live in different worlds; we see different things; we react in different ways; we bear different risks. We’re different.
And because the sexual dynamic is most typically male initiation/female response, the presence of a single, attractive woman in a cafe, reading a book is very easily seen as invitation. And if not invitation, opportunity. And men, being the traditional ‘initator’ are always looking for opportunity (especially in our young & single years). Thus the approach. It is entirely predictable.
Men approach women in cafes, in bookstores, on sidewalks, on dance floors, at parties, and sitting next to them in class. It’s what we do. If we waited until we were, ourselves, approached — God, we’d still be waiting, lonely, and clueless.
[Now I know this is not 100% true, 100% of the time, in 100% of all cases….but it does, indeed, represent the bulk of all experiences]
This initiating approach is not predation (though there are undoubtedly some predators out there); nor is it inhuman. Rather it is extraordinarily human and completely reflective of the biological fact that men and women are attracted to each other. It’s what makes the world go round.
But you’re right. There is a difference between an approach and a proposition….a difference between an initiating conversational question and harassment….a difference between a comment and an insult. And the problem, of course…the challenge: we see things differently. We inhabit the ‘Rashomon’ world of human sexual interaction in which the exact same thing, can be seen in two entirely different ways by the two entirely different people who were the players in any given drama.
If our heart’s in the right place, the truth will out!
“You couldnāt just walk into a restaurant, coffee shop, library, park, without some man deciding that sitting there by yourself actually was an invitation for him to come over and start his process of āgetting in.ā ”
The fascinating thing about this sort of statements is, that if ask any of my female friends or relatives how many times they were sitting in a restaurant, coffee shop etc, and were approached by a random stranger trying to “get in”, you will receive a weird stare.
It happens. But rarely, and usually it’s someone who is a mental case or socially deviant. I find this kind of statement highly suspicious because most men actually would find such behaviour obnoxious, and these statements are actually intended to gaslight and bully those men.
The other aspect is that men do of course have to take the responsibility of make the first move. And of course, face the risk of humiliation and the social anxiety that comes with it.
Amen! You echo the voices of millions of women.
Thank you. THIS is the most extraordinary comment – the most accurate lens / summary / analogous analysis of where we men are now. Been it, being it, felt it, know it’s wrong, unfair (and unnatural) but not had it presented so neatly before – in the words and world of today. God help us all.
Middle class white males are victims?
I think the point Howard Jacobson is making is that men who gaze at āthe wrong subjectā are likely to be judged more harshly, and the penalties are much more extreme than for women. A mere allegation is enough to destroy a manās career.
It reminds me of something I learned at University, although I donāt remember the author.
During a film, a woman stands up and slaps the man next to her in the face and walks out of the cinema. The feminist who sees the incident thinks, āGood for you, girl! Donāt let him grope youā. Another person, seeing the same event, is deeply saddened as it reminds them of their violent childhood. Yet another person, on seeing the slap, is reminded of how their own marriage recently split up.
Who knows why she slapped him, but each person will see what they want to see.
… and then be told in no uncertain terms exactly what they actually saw and exactly what to think about it. Hermoso kiss, anyone?
… and then be told in no uncertain terms exactly what they actually saw and exactly what to think about it. Hermoso kiss, anyone?
Anyone can be a victim regardless of their class, ethnicity or sex.
I think the point Howard Jacobson is making is that men who gaze at āthe wrong subjectā are likely to be judged more harshly, and the penalties are much more extreme than for women. A mere allegation is enough to destroy a manās career.
It reminds me of something I learned at University, although I donāt remember the author.
During a film, a woman stands up and slaps the man next to her in the face and walks out of the cinema. The feminist who sees the incident thinks, āGood for you, girl! Donāt let him grope youā. Another person, seeing the same event, is deeply saddened as it reminds them of their violent childhood. Yet another person, on seeing the slap, is reminded of how their own marriage recently split up.
Who knows why she slapped him, but each person will see what they want to see.
Anyone can be a victim regardless of their class, ethnicity or sex.
The male gaze is not allowed but online there are a multitude of 40āsomething women posting videos bemoaning the fact that they have become invisible to men. Younger women seek attention either to boost their egos or to provide an opportunity to insult and shame men.
Itās a funny state of affairs and best avoided wherever possible.
Quite so. Feminism’s ‘male gaze’ along with toilet seats being left up and other petty matters are designed to divide men and women. And to furnish scientific evidence for scientific socialism.
Good point. We men are in an abusive relationship with the bullying woke class as a whole. What should we do? I suggest we do what the woke have done and be a bit more strident in our demands that they cease their bullying and demeaning tactics. Try to reinstitute adult to adult conversation that accepts we have different points of view and we should seek to rub along together. Bullying needs to be opposed.
“…in a world you have as much right as anybody to inhabit.” Amen.
That doesn’t sound very comfortable. It also sounds very familiar. As a female who was stalked & harassed from age 11 to my mid 40s (and depending on glasses/mask am occasionally accosted when my age isn’t apparent), I know all about walking with your eyes down, trying not to catch any man’s eye. They seem to be waiting to catch it–just anything to get a chance to invade your space, your day, your head. You couldn’t just walk into a restaurant, coffee shop, library, park, without some man deciding that sitting there by yourself actually was an invitation for him to come over and start his process of “getting in.” And then you have to be polite, right? You try to be, at first. But then it’s taken as a signal to proceed. So you let firm limits. Then you’re a “b***h.” In my day it was also “lesbian” and “crazy” and a “tease.” “Cold.” Smile more. “You’re into yourself.” You’re angry” (for reading a book on my own while sipping iced tea). You’re stuck up. You think you’re better than everyone. You’ve asked for it. Why are you attracting so much attention to yourself? Why can’t you be more friendly?
I’m a much more interesting and self-reflective person in my MILF years than I ever was in my babe years, and yet all of those humans who insisted that I was a b***h because I didn’t want to strike up conversations w/ every stranger suddenly don’t even see me. At least I can be more polite to male employees without fear they’ll “take it the wrong way.” But most men have this way of looking at you, as a woman, as either “fuckable” or “invisible” – meaning, they’re gay, or they think you’re too old, ugly, or fat to merit any acknowledgement whatsoever.
Dude, you’re blaming women for a world created by men. Get angry at the guys going around harassing females (and girls)–don’t say it’s “puritanism.” Puritanism was very male dominant and even more interested in controlling women’s behavior than men’s.
Maybe just look at the world as a human–not a predator or instrumentalist to whom female humans only matter insofar as they excite some genital arousal–and see what happens. If you’re heart’s in the right place, the truth will out.
Don’t stop seeing. Learn to see more broadly. Learn to see other humans first, not their value to your p***s.
Thank you. THIS is the most extraordinary comment – the most accurate lens / summary / analogous analysis of where we men are now. Been it, being it, felt it, know it’s wrong, unfair (and unnatural) but not had it presented so neatly before – in the words and world of today. God help us all.
Middle class white males are victims?
The male gaze is not allowed but online there are a multitude of 40āsomething women posting videos bemoaning the fact that they have become invisible to men. Younger women seek attention either to boost their egos or to provide an opportunity to insult and shame men.
Itās a funny state of affairs and best avoided wherever possible.
Quite so. Feminism’s ‘male gaze’ along with toilet seats being left up and other petty matters are designed to divide men and women. And to furnish scientific evidence for scientific socialism.
The experience the author describes is very similar to that of someone in a toxic relationship. The hyper vigilance, the feeling of treading on egg shells, or walking through a minefield. The sense that one false move will trigger an attack, blatant and open, or passive aggressive. That any defence, or excuse, will only make things worse. Whatever you do will be wrong.
And hereās the crux, Some of us, and in particular the dreaded middle class white male (though it changes with context), are living in such a toxic relationship with society. Weāre not beaten or bashed, but bullied nontheless. Made to think that anything we might do or think is potentially suspect. Anything that feels natural to us might be a sign that there is indeed something wrong with us.
And the answer is the same. Itās not a relationship we can realistically leave, but we need to recognise who is doing the bullying, who has the problem, who is the one who needs therapy. And clearly thatās the toxic masculinity merchants, the male gaze peddlers, the patriarchy fanatics and the rest. Stand up, be yourself, donāt be bullied into crawling around guiltily in a world you have as much right as anybody to inhabit.
As most of the commentators here have been men, let me add my womanās point of view. This is a great essay – and profoundly saddening. It reads like a lament for lost times. I would contend that most of us understand very well the distinction between admiring and lusting, between flirting and harassing, between offense and unease, between words and deeds. Yet our judgment is no longer trusted. Men who pay compliments are scolded, art is analyzed as if it were government policy and the healthy disquiet that everyone feels on hearing their views challenged is reminted as offense so as to regain the moral high ground.
Yet we continue to think our own thoughts nonetheless – which is why little girls have to be disabused of their dreams of Prince Charming and why museum visitorsā appreciation of awe-inspiring artifacts has to be poisoned with anachronistic politicizing.
The pen we are being herded into is dark and cheerless. And it is becoming ever narrower, diminishing us all.
Thank you.
Well articulated!
Good points. Though when you say “everyone understands very well the distinction…” it depends on if the advances are desired or not, so no objective measure. This is what young men (with objectively less experience) have not been able to learn as they are told at every step do not go too far, stay in the safe zone or you will be labelled a predator. I feel very sorry for them and don’t see a way back as it is such a minefield.
Thank you.
Well articulated!
Good points. Though when you say “everyone understands very well the distinction…” it depends on if the advances are desired or not, so no objective measure. This is what young men (with objectively less experience) have not been able to learn as they are told at every step do not go too far, stay in the safe zone or you will be labelled a predator. I feel very sorry for them and don’t see a way back as it is such a minefield.
As most of the commentators here have been men, let me add my womanās point of view. This is a great essay – and profoundly saddening. It reads like a lament for lost times. I would contend that most of us understand very well the distinction between admiring and lusting, between flirting and harassing, between offense and unease, between words and deeds. Yet our judgment is no longer trusted. Men who pay compliments are scolded, art is analyzed as if it were government policy and the healthy disquiet that everyone feels on hearing their views challenged is reminted as offense so as to regain the moral high ground.
Yet we continue to think our own thoughts nonetheless – which is why little girls have to be disabused of their dreams of Prince Charming and why museum visitorsā appreciation of awe-inspiring artifacts has to be poisoned with anachronistic politicizing.
The pen we are being herded into is dark and cheerless. And it is becoming ever narrower, diminishing us all.
I am rereading 1984 at the moment. This piece could have been written by Winston Smith. In constant mortal terror of the thought police, confused by the tension between his nature and the warped morality imposed on him, downcast by the forced removal of all beauty and gaiety from his life.
All that it lacks is the spark of resistance that starts to take hold in Winston.
Quite. I also missed that spark of resistance. There seemed to be a sorrowful acceptance of the abysmal condition of things, especially of these crazy accusations of “gaze” and “pornography” – as if they had any purchase – as if they were not paranoid; as if they were not, in and of themselves, oppressive.
Consider the sheer variety and fluidity of experience – of infinite, delicate transaction – involved in living, in being alive. A man looks at a woman; she smirks, he raises his eyebrow, she sighs, they turn away – “gaze”? “Pornography”? Or the natural processes of youthful flirtation?
I suspect the author is very subtly trying to goad us, precisely by assuming the air of weariness, of defeat; in demonstrating, with his own sloping shoulders and furrowed brow, the sort of condition to which the new puritans are reducing us.
A wonderful article. We have become very afraid in the modern world. Many fear to start a conversation with a stranger for fear that they may be seen as ‘creepy’. But I make a point of pushing back against this fear. I quite often engage a stranger in conversation if I can drop in a light comment which relates to the position or environment in which we both find ourselves in that moment. In my experience the vast majority of people respond in a friendly way and appear almost relieved that the ice has been broken. I have had many fascinating encounters by behaving in this way and have hardly ever come across any hostility. Casual, polite, interested interaction is the social glue that has held us all together for millennia and which now seems to be disappearing into a fearful loneliness. I teach my children to be curious, interested and confident in the world around them. If we aren’t interested in other people what hope is there for us?
But are these strangers you engage in conversation men ore women and where are you at the time?
That’s an interesting question.
Speaking for myself — yes, sometimes they are women. And the conversations could be anywhere.
But — and perhaps this was your point — conversations between men and women are almost always ‘freighted’ with a certain potential significance that same-sex conversations typically do not carry.
“It’s still”, as they say, “the same old story”. The fact of our biological binary creates an ‘imperative’ which always, even at the slightest, most microscopic level, is an inevitable part of male/female interaction.
I can have the exact same conversation with Bill as I had with Sally (word for word, let’s say, and let’s say the conversation is about the price of eggs), but if I find Sally attractive in some way, shape, or form (even in the smallest of ways), I’ll enjoy the conversation with Sally more. How could I not?
‘These fundamental things apply…as time goes by!”
Well said. It’s universal and timeless. Just part of our evolutionary baggage.
Well said. It’s universal and timeless. Just part of our evolutionary baggage.
That’s an interesting question.
Speaking for myself — yes, sometimes they are women. And the conversations could be anywhere.
But — and perhaps this was your point — conversations between men and women are almost always ‘freighted’ with a certain potential significance that same-sex conversations typically do not carry.
“It’s still”, as they say, “the same old story”. The fact of our biological binary creates an ‘imperative’ which always, even at the slightest, most microscopic level, is an inevitable part of male/female interaction.
I can have the exact same conversation with Bill as I had with Sally (word for word, let’s say, and let’s say the conversation is about the price of eggs), but if I find Sally attractive in some way, shape, or form (even in the smallest of ways), I’ll enjoy the conversation with Sally more. How could I not?
‘These fundamental things apply…as time goes by!”
But are these strangers you engage in conversation men ore women and where are you at the time?
A wonderful article. We have become very afraid in the modern world. Many fear to start a conversation with a stranger for fear that they may be seen as ‘creepy’. But I make a point of pushing back against this fear. I quite often engage a stranger in conversation if I can drop in a light comment which relates to the position or environment in which we both find ourselves in that moment. In my experience the vast majority of people respond in a friendly way and appear almost relieved that the ice has been broken. I have had many fascinating encounters by behaving in this way and have hardly ever come across any hostility. Casual, polite, interested interaction is the social glue that has held us all together for millennia and which now seems to be disappearing into a fearful loneliness. I teach my children to be curious, interested and confident in the world around them. If we aren’t interested in other people what hope is there for us?
Yes – it almost ends on an apology. Ironic, or an apology to the bully in the hope of avoiding reprisals.
Ironic, I think. Otherwise, the essay would make no sense.
Yes it is ironic: Howard Jacobson does not surrender to bullies.
Yes it is ironic: Howard Jacobson does not surrender to bullies.
Ironic, I think. Otherwise, the essay would make no sense.
Exactly my thoughts
I read it every 10 years and always find something new. I think that 1984 should be followed immediately by Brave New World. Huxley’s fear, by comparison, is that servitude would come from our surrender to distractions.
Trapped between the woke thought police and the never ending distractions of our phones, it seems we are rapidly approaching the worst of all possible future worlds.
Trapped between the woke thought police and the never ending distractions of our phones, it seems we are rapidly approaching the worst of all possible future worlds.
Quite. I also missed that spark of resistance. There seemed to be a sorrowful acceptance of the abysmal condition of things, especially of these crazy accusations of “gaze” and “pornography” – as if they had any purchase – as if they were not paranoid; as if they were not, in and of themselves, oppressive.
Consider the sheer variety and fluidity of experience – of infinite, delicate transaction – involved in living, in being alive. A man looks at a woman; she smirks, he raises his eyebrow, she sighs, they turn away – “gaze”? “Pornography”? Or the natural processes of youthful flirtation?
I suspect the author is very subtly trying to goad us, precisely by assuming the air of weariness, of defeat; in demonstrating, with his own sloping shoulders and furrowed brow, the sort of condition to which the new puritans are reducing us.
Yes – it almost ends on an apology. Ironic, or an apology to the bully in the hope of avoiding reprisals.
Exactly my thoughts
I read it every 10 years and always find something new. I think that 1984 should be followed immediately by Brave New World. Huxley’s fear, by comparison, is that servitude would come from our surrender to distractions.
I am rereading 1984 at the moment. This piece could have been written by Winston Smith. In constant mortal terror of the thought police, confused by the tension between his nature and the warped morality imposed on him, downcast by the forced removal of all beauty and gaiety from his life.
All that it lacks is the spark of resistance that starts to take hold in Winston.
As I grow older I find young children ever more attractive. I am not motivated by dark pornographic longings, or phallowotevers lurking in my psyche. They possess a lust for life that I have lost and can never regain.
Look on the bright side, it only gets worse!
I’m particularly fond of the sound of them running around in the playground. Our world is getting more tightly controlled all the time. The anarchy of the playground is music to my ears.
The look of wonderment in a toddlers face! Like everywhere they look is new and their brain is exploding with excitement. Priceless!
We were twinned lands that did frisk in the sun
And bleat the one at thāother: what we changed
Was innocence for innocence; we knew not
The doctrine of ill doing, nor dreamed
That any did. Had we pursued that life,
And our weaker spirits neāer been higher reared
With stronger blood, we should have answered heaven
Boldly, ānot guiltyā, imposition cleared
Hereditary ours.
We were twinned lands that did frisk in the sun
And bleat the one at thāother: what we changed
Was innocence for innocence; we knew not
The doctrine of ill doing, nor dreamed
That any did. Had we pursued that life,
And our weaker spirits neāer been higher reared
With stronger blood, we should have answered heaven
Boldly, ānot guiltyā, imposition cleared
Hereditary ours.
part of that is remembering what it was like to be that energetic and full of wonder.
When my own children were of kindergarten age I considered a change of career to become a kindergarten teacher. As a male. That consideration lasted less than a second…
Look on the bright side, it only gets worse!
I’m particularly fond of the sound of them running around in the playground. Our world is getting more tightly controlled all the time. The anarchy of the playground is music to my ears.
The look of wonderment in a toddlers face! Like everywhere they look is new and their brain is exploding with excitement. Priceless!
part of that is remembering what it was like to be that energetic and full of wonder.
When my own children were of kindergarten age I considered a change of career to become a kindergarten teacher. As a male. That consideration lasted less than a second…
As I grow older I find young children ever more attractive. I am not motivated by dark pornographic longings, or phallowotevers lurking in my psyche. They possess a lust for life that I have lost and can never regain.
So true about the finger-wagging notes on the gallery wall, the recently-rehung National Portrait Gallery is another prime example. Even slavery abolitionists get it in the neck – a large canvas showing one of their meetings is accompanied by a disapproving note pointing out that that women were not properly included – bloody phallocentric Wilberforce couldn’t get it right, could he?
So true about the finger-wagging notes on the gallery wall, the recently-rehung National Portrait Gallery is another prime example. Even slavery abolitionists get it in the neck – a large canvas showing one of their meetings is accompanied by a disapproving note pointing out that that women were not properly included – bloody phallocentric Wilberforce couldn’t get it right, could he?
Brilliant essay.
Agreed. Utterly superb. H.J. has a near-perfect touch, knowing exactly how far to press a point. I loved this line:
Some things just set you up for the day!
Agreed. Utterly superb. H.J. has a near-perfect touch, knowing exactly how far to press a point. I loved this line:
Some things just set you up for the day!
Brilliant essay.
It used to be simple. You only feared the ‘nutter’ who might sit next to you on the bus or train and make you feel uncomfortable. (Nutter is almost certainly a hate word nowadays).
Now many women fear men as rapists. Many men fear women as false accusers. Ordinary people fear being accused of ‘wrongthink’ by any number of ‘activists’.
Is the world a better place for all the concern?
Aah, the nutter on the bus. Good old Jasper Carrott.
Aah, the nutter on the bus. Good old Jasper Carrott.
It used to be simple. You only feared the ‘nutter’ who might sit next to you on the bus or train and make you feel uncomfortable. (Nutter is almost certainly a hate word nowadays).
Now many women fear men as rapists. Many men fear women as false accusers. Ordinary people fear being accused of ‘wrongthink’ by any number of ‘activists’.
Is the world a better place for all the concern?
Fortunately I live a life free from the inanities of Berger, Mulvey and Said et al. My gaze wanders where it will and my mind is untrammelled by such pseudo-philosophers. Most men are.
Fortunately I live a life free from the inanities of Berger, Mulvey and Said et al. My gaze wanders where it will and my mind is untrammelled by such pseudo-philosophers. Most men are.
As a male, here I gaze; I can do no other.
To women everywhere I say kindly, we are looking (usually just looking) because you have either been born beautiful (lucky you) or have gone to considerable trouble, time and expense to make the best of your appearance (lots of us are doing that these days too) and weāre appreciating that for a very short moment. Sincere apologies if it overstays itās welcome occasionally, nearly all of us mean no harm.
As for the suggestion that male lust is only scurrilous and grubby but female lust is some kind of academic pursuit without any kind of base desire involved Iām afraid this is nonsense. We all have female friends these days and we talk to them.
If you have female friends, and you talk to them, youāll also know not only that they ogle men, but that they seek out places to do so. And they do so with a lightheartedness and lack of any guilt that most men can only dream of. They seem unconcerned even with large age gaps and are happy to use expressions such as āwould you, I wouldā.
Women in their 50s will talk salaciously about men in their late teens and twenties, the more sophisticated using terms like āAdonisā, the rest cruder terms.
Why on earth is the author, and other men, skulking around like a character from a Kafka novel, wracked with guilt over nothing.
And these women are creepy. Just like men who do the same. I had 50 something women ‘ogle’, make suggestive comments, and try it on with me when I was in my teens and 20’s and thought they were disgusting. Nobody should be ‘ogling’ anyone. We are not zoo animals.
Middle aged women in groups in clubs should have a hazard warning. Itās not just looking – they canāt keep their hands to themselves, and think itās enormous fun. Yuk!
I remember a guy in the local gym recruiting very young guys to act as āwaitersā in a place that specialised in āgirlsā nights out. He made it clear they would be topless and had to expect to be groped by women old enough to be their mother or grandmother! But the money was good. Yuk!
On holiday in Chile in my mid 30ās I was buying ice cream and someone pinched my arse. I turned round and 5 women maybe in their 60ās were laughing, they made fun of my accent then left, apparently I say London weirdly! 5 mins later they drove past beeping. It was fun. It still makes me laugh now.
“Nobody should be āoglingā anyone. We are not zoo animals.”
I don’t understand your comment, John. I see nothing inherently wrong or “disgusting” with ogling (although, like many other behaviors, it requires subtlety and attention to context). The word “ogling” is a negative reference to heterosexual attraction per se. If there’s something inherently sick or wrong with that, then there’s something inherently sick or wrong with human nature.
And this is surely what underlies at least some ideological scolding about the specifically male “gaze.” (Women, I learned from feminists, are more spiritual beings than men and therefore above such a grossly physiological need.) What better way to destroy (male) “heteronormativity,” after all, than to classify it as either sick or evil?
The same thing is true about homosexual attraction, of course, but no one says so for fear of offending gay people, even gay men. Being gay myself, I learned something about the “gaze” from a somewhat different angle. I had to avoid looking with obvious joy at men who might be straight, because they were not available to me and might respond with distress. I complied with convention for purely practical reasons, not because I felt the slightest guilt for having a male body. But I had in addition to find a way of looking at other men with obvious joy, because they might be gay and respond cheerfully or gratefully.
How ironic that I find myself, a gay man, having to defend the natural inclination not only of men in general but also of straight men in particular. Go figure.
By the way, the same principle applies to “objectification.” That’s just a sophisticated word for “ogling.” Its use rests, not surprisingly, on an academic theory. The idea is that interactions should focus on the full humanity of each person, not on anything as unedifying as physical attraction or as oppressive as employment. In theory, everyone is at all times a subject, never a mere object. Trouble is, we could have no society at all if everyone experienced everyone else that way at all times (the ideal established by Martin Buber as an “I-Thou” relationship). We certainly couldn’t do business with each other or relate to each other professionally. Of more importance here, though, is that the very act of sexual intercourse itself requires the temporary objectification of bodies.
But what better way, deliberate or not, to demoralise a group of people than to pathologise their normal behaviour.
Nicely said!
And you’re absolutely right: objectification is life. As much as I might believe you to be your own, independent, thinking, feeling ‘subject’…. as much as I know that we are, indeed, two separate and independent beings, each with our lives, thoughts, dreams, etc…. I can NOT ‘subjectify’ you. It’s impossible. We each remain, always & forever, ‘objects’ in the Other’s story.
Even when the Other is an object of lifelong Love & Devotion — even then — it’s still ‘my play’ within which they appear (walking in from Stage Left…exiting Stage Right).
The idea that somehow ‘objectification’ (the male gaze!) is a no good, bad, terrible, horrible thing is simply ludicrous.
Looking with joy? Joy! Don’t you mean lust – or at least desire?
I don’t make that distinction, Betsy. Sexual desire is joyful (unless neurosis or psychosis contaminate and distort it).
I don’t make that distinction, Betsy. Sexual desire is joyful (unless neurosis or psychosis contaminate and distort it).
But what better way, deliberate or not, to demoralise a group of people than to pathologise their normal behaviour.
Nicely said!
And you’re absolutely right: objectification is life. As much as I might believe you to be your own, independent, thinking, feeling ‘subject’…. as much as I know that we are, indeed, two separate and independent beings, each with our lives, thoughts, dreams, etc…. I can NOT ‘subjectify’ you. It’s impossible. We each remain, always & forever, ‘objects’ in the Other’s story.
Even when the Other is an object of lifelong Love & Devotion — even then — it’s still ‘my play’ within which they appear (walking in from Stage Left…exiting Stage Right).
The idea that somehow ‘objectification’ (the male gaze!) is a no good, bad, terrible, horrible thing is simply ludicrous.
Looking with joy? Joy! Don’t you mean lust – or at least desire?
Of course we’re animals, none other. We live; we die; we sweat; we bleed; we make messes and occasionally bray. We wander about, grazing, and occupy ourselves with what we believe is important or interesting or fun or necessary — it makes little difference. And in the meantime, in-between times: ain’t we got fun?
Ogling (a wonderful word, that) is a perfectly fine, entirely reasonable thing to do (inside or outside the zoo). Of course there are varieties and subsets and techniques and all kinds of way to ogle which are more or less acceptable…more or less obvious…more or less effective. There is the leer, followed by the crude comment…the passing glance…the inviting smile…the crinkle of they eye…the wink (does anyone wink anymore??).
How on earth did we ever get the idea that the recognition of beauty (in whatever form…and thank goodness we all have different tastes) is somehow objectionable, or unworthy, or inhuman?
We are our embodied selves, not intangible clouds of consciousness drifting hither & yon (thinking abstract things): of course we ogle. It’s what we do.
Well, she looked at me
And I, I could see
That before too long
I’d fall in love with her
She wouldn’t dance with another
Ooh, when I saw her standing there
Well, my heart went “boom”
When I crossed that room
And I held her hand in mine
Oh we danced through the night
And we held each other tight
And before too long
I fell in love with her
Now I’ll never dance with another
Ooh, since I saw her standing there
Middle aged women in groups in clubs should have a hazard warning. Itās not just looking – they canāt keep their hands to themselves, and think itās enormous fun. Yuk!
I remember a guy in the local gym recruiting very young guys to act as āwaitersā in a place that specialised in āgirlsā nights out. He made it clear they would be topless and had to expect to be groped by women old enough to be their mother or grandmother! But the money was good. Yuk!
On holiday in Chile in my mid 30ās I was buying ice cream and someone pinched my arse. I turned round and 5 women maybe in their 60ās were laughing, they made fun of my accent then left, apparently I say London weirdly! 5 mins later they drove past beeping. It was fun. It still makes me laugh now.
“Nobody should be āoglingā anyone. We are not zoo animals.”
I don’t understand your comment, John. I see nothing inherently wrong or “disgusting” with ogling (although, like many other behaviors, it requires subtlety and attention to context). The word “ogling” is a negative reference to heterosexual attraction per se. If there’s something inherently sick or wrong with that, then there’s something inherently sick or wrong with human nature.
And this is surely what underlies at least some ideological scolding about the specifically male “gaze.” (Women, I learned from feminists, are more spiritual beings than men and therefore above such a grossly physiological need.) What better way to destroy (male) “heteronormativity,” after all, than to classify it as either sick or evil?
The same thing is true about homosexual attraction, of course, but no one says so for fear of offending gay people, even gay men. Being gay myself, I learned something about the “gaze” from a somewhat different angle. I had to avoid looking with obvious joy at men who might be straight, because they were not available to me and might respond with distress. I complied with convention for purely practical reasons, not because I felt the slightest guilt for having a male body. But I had in addition to find a way of looking at other men with obvious joy, because they might be gay and respond cheerfully or gratefully.
How ironic that I find myself, a gay man, having to defend the natural inclination not only of men in general but also of straight men in particular. Go figure.
By the way, the same principle applies to “objectification.” That’s just a sophisticated word for “ogling.” Its use rests, not surprisingly, on an academic theory. The idea is that interactions should focus on the full humanity of each person, not on anything as unedifying as physical attraction or as oppressive as employment. In theory, everyone is at all times a subject, never a mere object. Trouble is, we could have no society at all if everyone experienced everyone else that way at all times (the ideal established by Martin Buber as an “I-Thou” relationship). We certainly couldn’t do business with each other or relate to each other professionally. Of more importance here, though, is that the very act of sexual intercourse itself requires the temporary objectification of bodies.
Of course we’re animals, none other. We live; we die; we sweat; we bleed; we make messes and occasionally bray. We wander about, grazing, and occupy ourselves with what we believe is important or interesting or fun or necessary — it makes little difference. And in the meantime, in-between times: ain’t we got fun?
Ogling (a wonderful word, that) is a perfectly fine, entirely reasonable thing to do (inside or outside the zoo). Of course there are varieties and subsets and techniques and all kinds of way to ogle which are more or less acceptable…more or less obvious…more or less effective. There is the leer, followed by the crude comment…the passing glance…the inviting smile…the crinkle of they eye…the wink (does anyone wink anymore??).
How on earth did we ever get the idea that the recognition of beauty (in whatever form…and thank goodness we all have different tastes) is somehow objectionable, or unworthy, or inhuman?
We are our embodied selves, not intangible clouds of consciousness drifting hither & yon (thinking abstract things): of course we ogle. It’s what we do.
Well, she looked at me
And I, I could see
That before too long
I’d fall in love with her
She wouldn’t dance with another
Ooh, when I saw her standing there
Well, my heart went “boom”
When I crossed that room
And I held her hand in mine
Oh we danced through the night
And we held each other tight
And before too long
I fell in love with her
Now I’ll never dance with another
Ooh, since I saw her standing there
I don’t think that he really thinks that way. It’s to make a point about society, not to register his feelings.
ā Why on earth is the author, and other men, skulking around likeā¦ā. I think you have missed the sarcasm and irony of the piece.
And these women are creepy. Just like men who do the same. I had 50 something women ‘ogle’, make suggestive comments, and try it on with me when I was in my teens and 20’s and thought they were disgusting. Nobody should be ‘ogling’ anyone. We are not zoo animals.
I don’t think that he really thinks that way. It’s to make a point about society, not to register his feelings.
ā Why on earth is the author, and other men, skulking around likeā¦ā. I think you have missed the sarcasm and irony of the piece.
Thank you. I turn 65 next week and still enjoy the lingering glances I am fortunate to receive – even when my husband and I are out together. No, especially then! (Husband gets a fair share of his own from the ladies).
If you have female friends, and you talk to them, youāll also know not only that they ogle men, but that they seek out places to do so. And they do so with a lightheartedness and lack of any guilt that most men can only dream of. They seem unconcerned even with large age gaps and are happy to use expressions such as āwould you, I wouldā.
Women in their 50s will talk salaciously about men in their late teens and twenties, the more sophisticated using terms like āAdonisā, the rest cruder terms.
Why on earth is the author, and other men, skulking around like a character from a Kafka novel, wracked with guilt over nothing.
Thank you. I turn 65 next week and still enjoy the lingering glances I am fortunate to receive – even when my husband and I are out together. No, especially then! (Husband gets a fair share of his own from the ladies).
To women everywhere I say kindly, we are looking (usually just looking) because you have either been born beautiful (lucky you) or have gone to considerable trouble, time and expense to make the best of your appearance (lots of us are doing that these days too) and weāre appreciating that for a very short moment. Sincere apologies if it overstays itās welcome occasionally, nearly all of us mean no harm.
As for the suggestion that male lust is only scurrilous and grubby but female lust is some kind of academic pursuit without any kind of base desire involved Iām afraid this is nonsense. We all have female friends these days and we talk to them.
As a male, here I gaze; I can do no other.
A good friend of mine is not sure which was worse – being cat-called by a builder, whom she shouted back at; and the flattening effect of being told, ‘not you love, her’, pointing to a younger model behind her. Who was it that remarked, the only thing worse than being looked at, is not being looked at?
Wilde.
Wilde.
A good friend of mine is not sure which was worse – being cat-called by a builder, whom she shouted back at; and the flattening effect of being told, ‘not you love, her’, pointing to a younger model behind her. Who was it that remarked, the only thing worse than being looked at, is not being looked at?
Even as a Dad at the local park with two young children I early on learned that the mothers there treated me with suspicion and that I should not try engage with them or other children. Such is life. As to the general hostility to men in society I think it is clear that many young men – about 25% apparently – are simply checking out of lifeās obligations. No girlfriends, no job aspirations, no worries. Certainly if you look at the dynamics of divorce – 80% started by women who then get custody of the kids and paid to do so – this may be rational behaviour. The interesting thing is that studies of these men show they are just as happy as their counterparts who are still playing. As we move into the full blown matriarchy it is going to be interesting times.
Yes, I was treated the same at the play park I regularly frequented with my young daughter after school by a group of mothers until they realised my true value..that I was prepared to include their kids in the games I had made up to amuse my daughter and they could continue to sit on their arses talking amongst themselves.
Yes, I was treated the same at the play park I regularly frequented with my young daughter after school by a group of mothers until they realised my true value..that I was prepared to include their kids in the games I had made up to amuse my daughter and they could continue to sit on their arses talking amongst themselves.
Even as a Dad at the local park with two young children I early on learned that the mothers there treated me with suspicion and that I should not try engage with them or other children. Such is life. As to the general hostility to men in society I think it is clear that many young men – about 25% apparently – are simply checking out of lifeās obligations. No girlfriends, no job aspirations, no worries. Certainly if you look at the dynamics of divorce – 80% started by women who then get custody of the kids and paid to do so – this may be rational behaviour. The interesting thing is that studies of these men show they are just as happy as their counterparts who are still playing. As we move into the full blown matriarchy it is going to be interesting times.
A few years ago I passed a couple of young girls plating in the street. “You’ve got a lot of hair for an old man!” said one. I muttered a hurried “Thank you” and carried on, not daring to stop and converse, lest a humourless adult accost and accuse me of perversion. Oh, well, it’s safer to interact via something electronic, anyway, isn’t it?
You ought to correct that typo.
Funny, yeah really!!
Funny, yeah really!!
You ought to correct that typo.
A few years ago I passed a couple of young girls plating in the street. “You’ve got a lot of hair for an old man!” said one. I muttered a hurried “Thank you” and carried on, not daring to stop and converse, lest a humourless adult accost and accuse me of perversion. Oh, well, it’s safer to interact via something electronic, anyway, isn’t it?
Women gaze too, I am told by my female friends, it’s just that they don’t gawp, unless they’re pissed and on a “hen-do”, when normal rules don’t apply.
If I wear my sunglasses when walking around the street then I see women looking at me when they think I’m not looking at them; it’s a real eye-opener (if you’ll pardon the pun).
Of course they do. And the idea that their gaze isnāt sexual or objectifying is to ignore the comments they themselves make.
Does anybody really think that all those middle aged women went to see Top Gun Maverick because theyād suddenly developed in interest in fighter aircraft?
And if women don’t objectify their men as bodies, they can still objectify them as wallets or trophies.
And if women don’t objectify their men as bodies, they can still objectify them as wallets or trophies.
Of course they do. And the idea that their gaze isnāt sexual or objectifying is to ignore the comments they themselves make.
Does anybody really think that all those middle aged women went to see Top Gun Maverick because theyād suddenly developed in interest in fighter aircraft?
Women gaze too, I am told by my female friends, it’s just that they don’t gawp, unless they’re pissed and on a “hen-do”, when normal rules don’t apply.
If I wear my sunglasses when walking around the street then I see women looking at me when they think I’m not looking at them; it’s a real eye-opener (if you’ll pardon the pun).
I gaze, therefore i am.
I gaze, therefore i am.
“Of course, there were some ā the Andrew Tates of the age ā who pumped their muscles and wore phallocentricity as a badge of pride.”
He might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.
“Of course, there were some ā the Andrew Tates of the age ā who pumped their muscles and wore phallocentricity as a badge of pride.”
He might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.
The notes accompanying the Rossettis swarm around the works like flies.
Glorious simile! I must read some of his novels.
Yes, I read and reread his travel book on Australia, while travelling around the country. Very good.
You certainly should!
Yes, I read and reread his travel book on Australia, while travelling around the country. Very good.
You certainly should!
The notes accompanying the Rossettis swarm around the works like flies.
Glorious simile! I must read some of his novels.
Do you remember the song in the George Formby film of 1937 Feather your nest, called ‘Leaning on a lamp post watching all the girls go by’?
Apparently the churches of the time was up in arms about all those men looking at girls with lust in their hearts.
Nothing new here.
I miss my grandchildren in New Zealand terribly, but was rather surprised when I stopped to look at a school playground that I was considered to be the local paedo. Someone has a filthy mind and it’s not me.
Do you remember the song in the George Formby film of 1937 Feather your nest, called ‘Leaning on a lamp post watching all the girls go by’?
Apparently the churches of the time was up in arms about all those men looking at girls with lust in their hearts.
Nothing new here.
I miss my grandchildren in New Zealand terribly, but was rather surprised when I stopped to look at a school playground that I was considered to be the local paedo. Someone has a filthy mind and it’s not me.
Oh, please.
“Nothing any of us do is wholly innocent. We are all culture-laden whether we know we are or not.”
Who among us wishes for the wholly innocent? Which of us craves the utterly unsullied act, seeks the empty & unweighted gaze, the clueless & chaste consideration, absent of meaning or intent?
Are we children? Or not even children, toddlers, newborns staring at the moving shapes and colors, noting the sounds, occasionally cooing, occasionally grunting. What life is that?
Not even the gaze of my dog is ‘wholly innocent’, he of the yearning biscuit whimper.
No. Of course we are not innocent. Of course we are culture-laden. We wouldn’t have it any other way; nor could we. Nor, in fact, should we. To hell with those who think otherwise. They are not human.
“The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground. But in love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man’s body.The heaviest of burdens is therefore simultaneously an image of life’s most intense fulfillment. The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become. Conversely, the absolute absence of burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar into heights, take leave of the earth and his earthly being, and become only half real, his movements as free as they are insignificant. What then shall we choose? Weight or lightness?ā (Kundera)
We are, indeed, our embodied, weighted selves. Our hearts beat; our blood surges; beauty & passion drives us. Yes, we covet, we lust, we envy, we appreciate. Yes we dream. Yes we fly.
“Your heart sweats, your body shakes…Another kiss is what it takes.”
So yes, lift your eyes. Smile. Grin. Join the endless dance. And join it knowing that our understanding and appreciation of each dancing step is bone-deep, and anchored by centuries of others’ dreaming, others’ songs, and the lingering of scent of might-have-beens and just-might-be’s.
Are we then “granted the right to stare and be stirred”? No! Indeed, it is a given. We breathe it in & out; it fills us, our touch crackles with it, our eyes flash. It surrounds us. God not only gives us that right; he makes it our sacred obligation.
āTo see the beauty of the world is to put your hands on lines that run uninterrupted through life and through death. Touching them is an act of hope, for perhaps someone on the other side, if there is another side, is touching them, too.ā (Helprin)
Truth & Beauty — what else is there?
Oh, please.
“Nothing any of us do is wholly innocent. We are all culture-laden whether we know we are or not.”
Who among us wishes for the wholly innocent? Which of us craves the utterly unsullied act, seeks the empty & unweighted gaze, the clueless & chaste consideration, absent of meaning or intent?
Are we children? Or not even children, toddlers, newborns staring at the moving shapes and colors, noting the sounds, occasionally cooing, occasionally grunting. What life is that?
Not even the gaze of my dog is ‘wholly innocent’, he of the yearning biscuit whimper.
No. Of course we are not innocent. Of course we are culture-laden. We wouldn’t have it any other way; nor could we. Nor, in fact, should we. To hell with those who think otherwise. They are not human.
“The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground. But in love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man’s body.The heaviest of burdens is therefore simultaneously an image of life’s most intense fulfillment. The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become. Conversely, the absolute absence of burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar into heights, take leave of the earth and his earthly being, and become only half real, his movements as free as they are insignificant. What then shall we choose? Weight or lightness?ā (Kundera)
We are, indeed, our embodied, weighted selves. Our hearts beat; our blood surges; beauty & passion drives us. Yes, we covet, we lust, we envy, we appreciate. Yes we dream. Yes we fly.
“Your heart sweats, your body shakes…Another kiss is what it takes.”
So yes, lift your eyes. Smile. Grin. Join the endless dance. And join it knowing that our understanding and appreciation of each dancing step is bone-deep, and anchored by centuries of others’ dreaming, others’ songs, and the lingering of scent of might-have-beens and just-might-be’s.
Are we then “granted the right to stare and be stirred”? No! Indeed, it is a given. We breathe it in & out; it fills us, our touch crackles with it, our eyes flash. It surrounds us. God not only gives us that right; he makes it our sacred obligation.
āTo see the beauty of the world is to put your hands on lines that run uninterrupted through life and through death. Touching them is an act of hope, for perhaps someone on the other side, if there is another side, is touching them, too.ā (Helprin)
Truth & Beauty — what else is there?
The issue could be overstated – I’m still noticing a quiet appreciation of my quiet appreciation.
Some truth in that. Most women look at attractive men, and they understand that men look at attractive women. Nobody likes it if people are creepy. Most people like appreciation.
But the piece is not so much about most peopleās attitudes: it is about how men have been guilt tripped by, frankly, a group of people suffering from a collective neurosis.
In a way, it is mens job to fix their own feelings. Refuse to be bullied. Donāt be a victim. Educate your children out of the guilt and shame business. Stop worrying, be yourself, deal assertively with the nut jobs, donāt be a creep and everything will be fine.
Yup – to the men who ogle too much, don’t be a creep; and to the women who doth protest too much – the abundance of virtually ‘sprayed on clothes’ (thanks LuLuLemon!) are ample evidence that many do like the male gaze.
LuLuLemon? What about Gymshark?
We do live in a strange and contradictory world. Women sexualise themselves more than they ever have done – online and in real life – and weāre more down on men for noticing than we ever have been.
Women don’t dress that way to be ogled by men, (well, maybe some do) they dress provocatively to intimidate other women. As the competition for interested and available men increases, you’ll undoubtedly see more of this.
Some truth in that – it does seem to be about female competition. But itās still a sexual display, as opposed to say a pure status display.
And of course whatever they wear, women will insist they do it solely for themselves.
How do you know that women dress to intimidate women, not to attract men? Even if that were true, it would still be an extremely ambiguous message to men. Clothing is a visual language and therefore a medium of communication, not some entirely private form of self-expression. Women need to be accountable for their intended or unintended sartorial messages to men, therefore, just as men need to be accountable for reacting inappropriately or brutally.
I must say I agree with Paul, particularly in response to Clare Knight below. Itās as if Women want it both waysā¦as a queer man, I would think this is extremely confusing for the poor hetero maleā¦we all need to be responsibleā¦
I must say I agree with Paul, particularly in response to Clare Knight below. Itās as if Women want it both waysā¦as a queer man, I would think this is extremely confusing for the poor hetero maleā¦we all need to be responsibleā¦
Some truth in that – it does seem to be about female competition. But itās still a sexual display, as opposed to say a pure status display.
And of course whatever they wear, women will insist they do it solely for themselves.
How do you know that women dress to intimidate women, not to attract men? Even if that were true, it would still be an extremely ambiguous message to men. Clothing is a visual language and therefore a medium of communication, not some entirely private form of self-expression. Women need to be accountable for their intended or unintended sartorial messages to men, therefore, just as men need to be accountable for reacting inappropriately or brutally.
Women don’t dress that way to be ogled by men, (well, maybe some do) they dress provocatively to intimidate other women. As the competition for interested and available men increases, you’ll undoubtedly see more of this.
LuLuLemon? What about Gymshark?
We do live in a strange and contradictory world. Women sexualise themselves more than they ever have done – online and in real life – and weāre more down on men for noticing than we ever have been.
It depends on what the man looks like who’s looking, and how he’s looking.
Yup – to the men who ogle too much, don’t be a creep; and to the women who doth protest too much – the abundance of virtually ‘sprayed on clothes’ (thanks LuLuLemon!) are ample evidence that many do like the male gaze.
It depends on what the man looks like who’s looking, and how he’s looking.
Some truth in that. Most women look at attractive men, and they understand that men look at attractive women. Nobody likes it if people are creepy. Most people like appreciation.
But the piece is not so much about most peopleās attitudes: it is about how men have been guilt tripped by, frankly, a group of people suffering from a collective neurosis.
In a way, it is mens job to fix their own feelings. Refuse to be bullied. Donāt be a victim. Educate your children out of the guilt and shame business. Stop worrying, be yourself, deal assertively with the nut jobs, donāt be a creep and everything will be fine.
The issue could be overstated – I’m still noticing a quiet appreciation of my quiet appreciation.
I think the issue with Eric Gill’s Prospero and Ariel is more to do with Eric Gill than the sculpture itself.
Correct. But it’s still a beautiful piece of sculpture. We have to separate the creator from his creation, otherwise the work of many (most?) artists will have to be cast into outer darkness. I’d rather be on Gill’s side of the barricades than Dowsing’s or the Taliban’s.
Correct. But it’s still a beautiful piece of sculpture. We have to separate the creator from his creation, otherwise the work of many (most?) artists will have to be cast into outer darkness. I’d rather be on Gill’s side of the barricades than Dowsing’s or the Taliban’s.
I think the issue with Eric Gill’s Prospero and Ariel is more to do with Eric Gill than the sculpture itself.
About 25 years ago I was doing a job that involved walking the streets of a London borough, going from door to door. One day, I stopped for a rest, stood at some park railings and was just daydreaming, really, whilst some kids were knocking a football about. I suppose I was watching them, but not really. They were part of the scene of the park.
One of them shouted out, āGet lost you paedo, stop watching us.ā I was mildly traumatised, and ever since, have adopted the authorās approach, and scuttle past schools and kids generally, eyes averted, with a sense of dread.
About 25 years ago I was doing a job that involved walking the streets of a London borough, going from door to door. One day, I stopped for a rest, stood at some park railings and was just daydreaming, really, whilst some kids were knocking a football about. I suppose I was watching them, but not really. They were part of the scene of the park.
One of them shouted out, āGet lost you paedo, stop watching us.ā I was mildly traumatised, and ever since, have adopted the authorās approach, and scuttle past schools and kids generally, eyes averted, with a sense of dread.
The author hits the nail on the head when he likens modern wokeism to puritanism, because though the logic and dogmas of the two may be radically different, they end up in much the same place, a tut-tutting, finger wagging, privilege checking, microaggression avoiding, judgement passing, community of witches and witch hunters, or bigots and social justice warriors if you prefer the modern terminology. Communities filled with suspicion because the devil, (or bigotry, or racism, or w/e other word you want to use) is everywhere. It doesn’t matter whether or not you intended to do the devil’s work, because he can work his evil through you without your even knowing. It doesn’t matter that you don’t actually think black people are inferior, because institutional racism is everywhere. Your intentions are meaningless. Your stated opinions don’t matter. You are privileged whether you know it or not, whether you want it or not, and there’s nothing you can do to escape the stain of privilege. We’re all damned because of original sin and nothing you can do will change it. Oh yes, there’s more than a dollop of Jonathan Edwards in the doctrines of modern wokery, though I’m sure it would give them conniptions if they knew it. It’s perhaps not coincidental that wokeism, like puritanism, is an inherently American phenomenon. America has an ongoing cycle of period religious ‘awakenings’ dating back to the actual Puritans who were among the earliest American. These were usually followed by long periods of everybody mind your own damn business, these longer periods usually triggered by the extreme zealotry, intolerance, and slavish devotion to dogma displayed by the adherents of whatever flavor of puritanism was ascendant at the time.
The author hits the nail on the head when he likens modern wokeism to puritanism, because though the logic and dogmas of the two may be radically different, they end up in much the same place, a tut-tutting, finger wagging, privilege checking, microaggression avoiding, judgement passing, community of witches and witch hunters, or bigots and social justice warriors if you prefer the modern terminology. Communities filled with suspicion because the devil, (or bigotry, or racism, or w/e other word you want to use) is everywhere. It doesn’t matter whether or not you intended to do the devil’s work, because he can work his evil through you without your even knowing. It doesn’t matter that you don’t actually think black people are inferior, because institutional racism is everywhere. Your intentions are meaningless. Your stated opinions don’t matter. You are privileged whether you know it or not, whether you want it or not, and there’s nothing you can do to escape the stain of privilege. We’re all damned because of original sin and nothing you can do will change it. Oh yes, there’s more than a dollop of Jonathan Edwards in the doctrines of modern wokery, though I’m sure it would give them conniptions if they knew it. It’s perhaps not coincidental that wokeism, like puritanism, is an inherently American phenomenon. America has an ongoing cycle of period religious ‘awakenings’ dating back to the actual Puritans who were among the earliest American. These were usually followed by long periods of everybody mind your own damn business, these longer periods usually triggered by the extreme zealotry, intolerance, and slavish devotion to dogma displayed by the adherents of whatever flavor of puritanism was ascendant at the time.
First, I must make it clear that, like the Fat Controller in the Thomas Tank Engine books, my doctor has forbidden me to read museum wall text.
Other than that I interpret all the the agenda of our lefty friends as issuing from the fact that everything they have advocated has failed, and Made Things Worse.
Including the absurd notion that women can live like men, out in the public square without protection from the male gaze. Indeed First Feminist Mary Wollstonecraft proved that with two disastrous relationships before meeting up with good guy William Godwin. But then she died in childbirth. Unfortunately her daughter Mary went on to suffer under the male gaze — and more — of poets Lord Byron and Percy Shelley.
First, I must make it clear that, like the Fat Controller in the Thomas Tank Engine books, my doctor has forbidden me to read museum wall text.
Other than that I interpret all the the agenda of our lefty friends as issuing from the fact that everything they have advocated has failed, and Made Things Worse.
Including the absurd notion that women can live like men, out in the public square without protection from the male gaze. Indeed First Feminist Mary Wollstonecraft proved that with two disastrous relationships before meeting up with good guy William Godwin. But then she died in childbirth. Unfortunately her daughter Mary went on to suffer under the male gaze — and more — of poets Lord Byron and Percy Shelley.
The only gaze that counts today is upon the screen. And that is the gaze that enables reception of the new aesthetics of Spirit – gender and its necessary transformation. Only through these new channels of desire can we continue to move History towards Progress and Unity.
The only gaze that counts today is upon the screen. And that is the gaze that enables reception of the new aesthetics of Spirit – gender and its necessary transformation. Only through these new channels of desire can we continue to move History towards Progress and Unity.
This essay came to mind last evening when my partner and I were having a light supper at a sidewalk cafe in Menlo Park, CA. The ‘hostess’ was a young-ish female barely wearing a dress that covered only the absolute essentials.
I steadfastly remained looking at her at eye brow level while I gave my name. She led us to our table; leaning over to place the menus displayed virtually everything that had been suggested before. |
My lovely partner smiled; there was nothing to say.
This essay came to mind last evening when my partner and I were having a light supper at a sidewalk cafe in Menlo Park, CA. The ‘hostess’ was a young-ish female barely wearing a dress that covered only the absolute essentials.
I steadfastly remained looking at her at eye brow level while I gave my name. She led us to our table; leaning over to place the menus displayed virtually everything that had been suggested before. |
My lovely partner smiled; there was nothing to say.
Very good writing.
Very good writing.
All I can say is I’m glad I don’t live where Mr. Jacobson does, or share his concern that I’m being offensive or exploitive for walking around with my eyes open. Here in Toronto if you pass an adult walking beside an obviously happy child, and you smile and say, “Someone’s clearly having too much fun,” you’ll invariably get a smile, a laugh, or a “For sure!” in return. A world where we have to avert our eyes from children to make things right? Life wouldn’t be worth living.
All I can say is I’m glad I don’t live where Mr. Jacobson does, or share his concern that I’m being offensive or exploitive for walking around with my eyes open. Here in Toronto if you pass an adult walking beside an obviously happy child, and you smile and say, “Someone’s clearly having too much fun,” you’ll invariably get a smile, a laugh, or a “For sure!” in return. A world where we have to avert our eyes from children to make things right? Life wouldn’t be worth living.
“Had I been a woman worn out with being prodded by those instruments of male possessiveness, Iād have bought willingly into that…” No, you wouldn’t have, Howard. You’re far too smart for that, as many of us women are too. Thank you for a beautiful, wise piece, as ever. You carry on looking as long as you want.
“Had I been a woman worn out with being prodded by those instruments of male possessiveness, Iād have bought willingly into that…” No, you wouldn’t have, Howard. You’re far too smart for that, as many of us women are too. Thank you for a beautiful, wise piece, as ever. You carry on looking as long as you want.
All these feminist cliches, these tropes, are designed toward one end: to create divisions between men and women. They appeal to flaws and weaknesses, and like all political beliefs, channel personal neuroses. The latest among our friends and acquaintances to refer deprecatingly to the “male gaze” is an accomplished female artist, one who unabashedly admires beauty in men. And who while quite wonderfully attractive to me as a person is not at all physically beautiful. To the latter I had given no thought at all, until sadly this conversation, drawing attention to the eternal fact the political is always personal, not vice-versa. And drawing attention not to her appearance, but an unattractive side of an otherwise beautiful personality.
.
Man up, you will feel better! Hell with the BS “cancellers”, you are the only one who can actually cancel yourself.
You ought to get out a bit more Howard. I’m 62 and don’t feel any of this. I can’t help smiling when I see mothers out with kids, or looking over the wall at kids enjoying themselves, recalling my own time with small kids – I’m not a grandad yet but I live in hope.
I suspect this depressing headspace you are in is at least partly a London thing. Awful place, does terrible things to the psyche.
Hm. Another power game, yes? As a man, I have the power to look at a woman, a child, even another man. How they register and interpret that look is entirely up to them and always has been. What are the chances they accurately discern my thoughts and intentions? Nil. No one of us can enter the mind of another. Of course, it is rude to stare. But to look, to glance, even to gaze, these are natural actions against which there is no law. As a phenomenologist, I assure you others do not and cannot know my mind unless I share it.
Ah, if only there weren’t so many Bobby Joe Longs, Zion Teasleys, Douglas Perrys, Samuel Littles, Arial Castros, Jesse Mathews and Aaron Glees. And if only there weren’t so many people who don’t speak out against them. It does justifibaly put the fear into women, which is not always unfounded. That said I’m well aware that men can also be victims of all kinds of travail no matter their ethnicity or class: whether from poverty, abuse, violence, or illness. Men who suffer such circumstances certainly have my sympathy. Although generalities serve a necessary and useful purpose stereotypes can only go so far without becoming misrepresentations.
“Orientalists the lot of us”
And to think, modenity’s perhaps most famous ‘Orientalist’ of all, a Mr G Glitter by name, renains a caged human being to this day, he being virtually buried (and constantly re-buried) in fact on every conceivable cultural front one cares to name. Does one dare to even write his name here, for the great fear and insecurity it generates among males instantly?
Along with the encagement of Julian Assange, Britain has sooo very much to he ashamed of.
The more I learn about the Tate brothers — the brilliant Tucker Carlson interviews are a good start — the more I think they have been maligned by the obedient sheep of the media.
The more I learn about the Tate brothers — the brilliant Tucker Carlson interviews are a good start — the more I think they have been maligned by the obedient sheep of the media.
The problem with gazing.
Because in a social setting it is perceived as a prelude to sex.
Why were and are women adjured to hide their bodies ? – “The way she was dressed, she was asking for it”
I would contend that with this sort of thinking there is an argument for more exposure not less so that the male gaze can become habituated to viewing the female form as an aesthetic object not just something to screw.
If the male gaze was irrelevant then there would be no discussion about it. Why is it relevant in current society ? Why does it apparently carry more weight in current discourse than the female gaze ?
Great essay, incidentally.
here is an argument for more exposure not less so that the male gaze can become habituated to viewing the female form as an aesthetic object not just something to screw
Just so – and the stats confirm this – the more repressive/conservative the country, the more abuse of women there is There are wrinkles in this, but it is a very robust and reliable finding.
When you have exhausted Angkor Wat you should head for The Khajuraho Temples in Madhya Pradesh, if you havenāt already been.
Well, Elaine, “gazing” really is, at least in theory, a prelude to sex. That’s a fact of life, a requirement of heterosexuality (or homosexuality).
And no one would say that fashion is “irrelevant” either in this society or in any other. Every society has conventions for public attire, no matter how minimal, that try to contain sexual responses. Otherwise, how could it carry on with the business of daily life? These conventions, or styles, vary considerably from one time or place to another. (In Elizabethan England, men ran around wearing grotesque codpieces.) I’m not recommending that women cover themselves from head to foot in burqas, which would mean borrowing from an alien culture. But surely women are capable of taking into account the likely responses of men, here and now, by dressing in ways that are neither obviously provocative nor implicitly manipulative. Apart from anything else, after all, clothing in public is a matter of common courtesy, for both sexes, not merely of personal whimsy or sartorial ideology.
So who determines what is common courtesy, dress wise ?
As soon as you mention “personal whimsy” I think of Grayson Perry in one of his more extravagant moods.
Personally I am all for a bit more whimsy, to brighten up the day.
Good question, Elaine. I don’t think that we should rely on rules, because rules tend to become rigid and ends in themselves. I do think, however, that most people can intuit what, in their own social context, is likely to be discourteous.
Older article, so excuse my late comment, but I broadly agree. However, I do think there ought to be dress codes in workplaces and schools.
The problem usually arises because men often stick to non-sexualized clothing in these places, whereas a proportion of women do not. I don’t think I have ever seen a man going into work or school with his shirt exposing half his chest, unnecessarily tight clothing, hot shorts etc. On the other hand, you see girls and women (not all) turning up to work and school looking like they off to a nightclub or working the streets. As a woman, I am not supposed to anything about this as it apparently makes me either a prude and/or jealous. Men aren’t supposed to say anything either as it makes them sexist or they are accused of sexualizing the woman in question. Bizarre.
Older article, so excuse my late comment, but I broadly agree. However, I do think there ought to be dress codes in workplaces and schools.
The problem usually arises because men often stick to non-sexualized clothing in these places, whereas a proportion of women do not. I don’t think I have ever seen a man going into work or school with his shirt exposing half his chest, unnecessarily tight clothing, hot shorts etc. On the other hand, you see girls and women (not all) turning up to work and school looking like they off to a nightclub or working the streets. As a woman, I am not supposed to anything about this as it apparently makes me either a prude and/or jealous. Men aren’t supposed to say anything either as it makes them sexist or they are accused of sexualizing the woman in question. Bizarre.
Good question, Elaine. I don’t think that we should rely on rules, because rules tend to become rigid and ends in themselves. I do think, however, that most people can intuit what, in their own social context, is likely to be discourteous.
So who determines what is common courtesy, dress wise ?
As soon as you mention “personal whimsy” I think of Grayson Perry in one of his more extravagant moods.
Personally I am all for a bit more whimsy, to brighten up the day.
here is an argument for more exposure not less so that the male gaze can become habituated to viewing the female form as an aesthetic object not just something to screw
Just so – and the stats confirm this – the more repressive/conservative the country, the more abuse of women there is There are wrinkles in this, but it is a very robust and reliable finding.
When you have exhausted Angkor Wat you should head for The Khajuraho Temples in Madhya Pradesh, if you havenāt already been.
Well, Elaine, “gazing” really is, at least in theory, a prelude to sex. That’s a fact of life, a requirement of heterosexuality (or homosexuality).
And no one would say that fashion is “irrelevant” either in this society or in any other. Every society has conventions for public attire, no matter how minimal, that try to contain sexual responses. Otherwise, how could it carry on with the business of daily life? These conventions, or styles, vary considerably from one time or place to another. (In Elizabethan England, men ran around wearing grotesque codpieces.) I’m not recommending that women cover themselves from head to foot in burqas, which would mean borrowing from an alien culture. But surely women are capable of taking into account the likely responses of men, here and now, by dressing in ways that are neither obviously provocative nor implicitly manipulative. Apart from anything else, after all, clothing in public is a matter of common courtesy, for both sexes, not merely of personal whimsy or sartorial ideology.
The problem with gazing.
Because in a social setting it is perceived as a prelude to sex.
Why were and are women adjured to hide their bodies ? – “The way she was dressed, she was asking for it”
I would contend that with this sort of thinking there is an argument for more exposure not less so that the male gaze can become habituated to viewing the female form as an aesthetic object not just something to screw.
If the male gaze was irrelevant then there would be no discussion about it. Why is it relevant in current society ? Why does it apparently carry more weight in current discourse than the female gaze ?
Great essay, incidentally.
Hang on a minute all those voices lauding the article. The writer conflates men looking lustfully at women with men looking lustfully at children and then a desire to see art of paedophilia (a muse is not an ambiguous term now, even less so in the past), sculpted by a paedophile at an organisation that has promoted and protected paedophiles. The “young bride” was apparently 13. Why should people not feel a twinge of discomfort at viewing such “art”? I was with him with the children at the playground at the beginning but then it rapidly degenerated and was made me think ill of the writer in a way that the first paragraphs do not. You don’t have to “ban beauty” not to think oggling children is not right. You don’t have to conflate the two or muddy the waters with several paragraphs of the intellectualism that got us to this place. Here’s to the Puritans, at least they did what they said they’d do – possibly the only politicians ever to do so.
Hang on a minute all those voices lauding the article. The writer conflates men looking lustfully at women with men looking lustfully at children and then a desire to see art of paedophilia (a muse is not an ambiguous term now, even less so in the past), sculpted by a paedophile at an organisation that has promoted and protected paedophiles. The “young bride” was apparently 13. Why should people not feel a twinge of discomfort at viewing such “art”? I was with him with the children at the playground at the beginning but then it rapidly degenerated and was made me think ill of the writer in a way that the first paragraphs do not. You don’t have to “ban beauty” not to think oggling children is not right. You don’t have to conflate the two or muddy the waters with several paragraphs of the intellectualism that got us to this place. Here’s to the Puritans, at least they did what they said they’d do – possibly the only politicians ever to do so.