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June 3, 2008 12:16 PM

Megan Crane on chick lit

I don't know how I missed this, but back in April, Megan Crane had an online discussion with Liza Palmer and, inevitably, they talked about chick lit and Megan said this:

And I said it before, but it bears repeating: these books are sneered at and trivialized because they are about women. I don't recall any sneering or rolled eyes when I was handed the fifty-seventh "young man reflects on the tragedies of war" tome in high school. Why? Because stories about young men and their explorations of self and their worlds and their relationships with other men are considered inherently valuable. Men are interesting. Men are worthwhile subjects for fiction. Write about young men and their worlds and you will be feted and congratulated and called a "wunderkind," and no one will call what you write anything but literary.

How is a Brett [sic] Easton Ellis book any different from, say, a Lauren Weisberger or a Candace Bushnell novel: glossy worlds, jaded protagonists, and all?

The only difference is this: books by and about women are perceived, as women are still perceived, to be less than similar books by men. I've been reading about the chick lit controversy for years now, and despite all the hithering and yonning about what's good literature and what's not and elitist snobbery this and commercial crap that and blah blah blah, I think it all boils down to sexism in action, plain and simple. We do not yet live in a world of gender equality, and I think this endless argument proves that. Again and again.

The thing that really struck me was the Bret Easton Ellis comparison, which I hadn't thought of before, even though it's such a good one! Bret Easton Ellis wrote a book called Glamorama, which is described (on Amazon) as:

The centre of the world: 1990s Manhattan. Victor Ward, a model with perfect abs and all the right friends, is seen and photographed everywhere, even in places he hasn't been and with people he doesn't know. On the eve of opening the trendiest nightclub in New York history, he's living with one beautiful model and having an affair with another. Now it's time to move to the next stage. But the future he gets is not the one he had in mind.

Sounds kind of like chick lit, no? In fact, it sounds like the kind of chick lit that comes in for the most criticism: glossy, trendy New York chick lit. The reviews?

"Does for the cold, minimal '90s what "American Psycho" did for the Wall Street greed of the '80s. - Vogue. "Gets under the skin of our celebrity culture in a way that is both illuminating and frightening" - Daily Telegraph.
"A master stylist with hideously interesting new-fangled manners and the heart of an old-fashioned moralist" - Observer.
"An American masterpiece" - Scotland on Sunday.

Now this is the summary of Lauren Weisberger's Everyone Worth Knowing:

The achingly cool world of Manhattan’s party people ... At the beginning of the novel Bette (Bettina) Robinson, 27 year old daughter of vegan hippie parents is working eighty-hour weeks as a corporate drone in the offices of investment bank CWK Hoffman. The highlight of her social calendar is a dinner date with her uncle and his boyfriend every Thursday night. Handily, said uncle is also a famous, highly syndicated columnist who manages to secure Bette a shiny new job as a party planner at top PR agency. Cue our heroine’s descent into Manhattan’s social whirl as she struggles with the outrageous demands of celebrity clients plus unwelcome exposure in a regular gossip column.

Doesn't sound so different, does it? The reviews? Or rather, review?

  "The Perfect Read for girly fashion lovers" - Sunday Express

I haven't read either of these books, so I don't know if it's a fair comparison (and I know a lot of people were disappointed with Everyone Worth Knowing), but even so the difference is striking, don't you think?

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Posted by Aigua Media on June 3, 2008 in Opinion | Permalink

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