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In a blurb on the back of
This Is Not Chick Lit, an anthology by "America's Best Women Writers," Gloria Steinem writes:
This Is Not Chick Lit is important not only for its content, but for its title. I’ll know we’re getting somewhere when equally talented male writers feel they have to separate themselves from the endless stream of fiction glorifying war, hunting and sports by naming an anthology This Is Not a Guy Thing.
Where to begin? Women are hardly oppressed by the publishing industry, the critics, or the literary establishment. Women publish serious books and are taken seriously; they are reviewed in major publications and taught in university courses; they write bestsellers in every genre; they hold many major positions as editors and literary agents; one of them (Oprah) owns the most powerful promotional vehicle for books that has ever existed; their most commercially successful author, J.K. Rowling, could probably buy and sell a dozen Dan Browns and still afford a few John Grishams to mow the lawn.
Women are also certainly not oppressed by the reading public, since women are the ones who buy most of the fiction, which is why publishers cater to women by publishing chick lit. Gloria Steinem's problem is that women don't make the choices that she wants them to. Not enough women are buying the right kinds of books. Too many of them want to be entertained by something light and amusing and not substantial enough. Too many women--writers--are making too much money by giving other women--readers--exactly what they want to spend their money on. There are men involved in the industry, too, but I would guess that the majority of editors and agents involved in publishing chick lit are women.
Calling a collection of serious stories
This Is Not Chick Lit isn't an act of rebellion or a political statement. It's a marketing strategy. "Hey, over here," it says to serious readers, "be seen reading this book. You'll feel better about yourself and will impress people." Or, less cynically, "Hey, if you don't like chick lit, try some literature written by women."
Steinem's final sentence couldn't be more confused.
"I’ll know we’re getting somewhere when equally talented male writers feel they have to separate themselves from the endless stream of fiction glorifying war, hunting and sports by naming an anthology This Is Not a Guy Thing."
No, I'm not aware of a book featuring male writers that has chosen to market itself as anti-manly lit, but then I'm not aware of any publisher foolish enough to publish a collection of stories that by design would include
only male writers. That's just the sort of thing that might get you protested by, you guessed it, Gloria Steinem.
Besides, publishers and authors--male and female--use the equivalent of "This is not chick lit" on their covers all of the time. Just look at the typography, graphics, blurbs on the back cover, and every aspect of how a book is marketed, and you'll see that the literary books are clearly distinguished from the nonliterary books. John Grisham has been known to complain that reviewers don't take him seriously because his books are too popular. One glance at his books' covers lets the reader know that they are intended to be popular books, not literary, serious ones. Whether these categories and distinctions are right or good is another issue, as is whether popular genres (including chick lit but also suspense, horror, romance, and science fiction) deserve more or less respect. But it isn't a gender thing. To Steinem, though, maybe everything is.
This is an example of women making war on other women. Men who read "manly" books aren't routinely judged and criticized by male activists. Women who read and write chick lit are looked down upon with contempt by activists like Gloria Steinem and made to feel that their desire for a diversion is an act of treason against the gender. As if women were not under enough pressure already, they have to worry about what the movement will think when all they want to do is find an entertaining read. It's a good thing that most women are liberated enough to not really care. That's how I know "we're getting somewhere."
