I can that can I?
"But it wasn?t just this one author. I wondered about Julia Donaldson, Britain?s favourite children?s writer. Donaldson wrote The Gruffalo. My son and I loved The Gruffalo. Let?s see: the Gruffalo is male. His main characteristic is that he?s an idiot. He?s the butt of the book?s jokes. He?s outsmarted by a mouse. We never find out if the mouse is male or female. It?s just a mouse. In another book, The Snail and the Whale, an adventurous young snail travels the world and saves a whale by being heroic and resourceful. The snail is female. In Tiddler, an adventurous young fish swims into unknown waters and gets caught up in a trawler net. The fish is a dreamer, a risk-taker. The fish is a fool. The fish is male.
I looked through all our books. The default male character was dumb. The default female character was smart. In Donaldson?s Giraffes Can?t Dance, Gerald the giraffe tries to dance and looks ridiculous. In The Selfish Crocodile, by Faustin Charles and Michael Terry, a nasty crocodile wants everything for himself, ruining the lives of all the other animals in the jungle. In Benedict Blathwayt?s The Runaway Train, a driver gets out of the train, forgetting to put the brake on, and it rolls off without him. A driverless train ? what a powerful symbol of male inadequacy. And there I was, colluding with it. My son and I would sit on the sofa, day after day, laughing. Our laughter was directed at people who are selfish, gross or dumb ? male people. Meanwhile, our admiration was directed at people who are smart, brave, and resourceful ? female people.
Then it struck me that the men in our stories have been losing their authority for decades. And not just in children?s stories, but adult ones, too. Once upon a time, male movie stars were strong and decisive ? think of John Wayne, Gary Cooper, Errol Flynn. Then there was a new, softer type ? Cary Grant and James Stewart were strong, yes, but with a background of self-doubt. And then came Jack Lemmon, Dustin Hoffman, Woody Allen, Bill Murray, Michael Douglas, Kevin Spacey ? bumbling, flawed anti-heroes. Now, when we think of a typical male role, we might conjure up Kevin Spacey?s character in American Beauty ? the deadbeat dad, eclipsed professionally by his wife, dropping out, smoking dope in his garage. The character was called Lester Burnham. I laughed at him. And, in some strange, dark way I didn?t quite understand, I laughed with him, too.
For as long as I can remember, something has been happening to the way we portray men. It?s as if the culture at large has been trying to get our attention, trying to tell us this crucial thing, but we haven?t been listening. Consider adverts. In a survey of 1,000 TV commercials, the writer Frederic Hayward discovered that ?One hundred per cent of the jerks singled out in male-female relationships were male?. Also, that ?one hundred per cent of the ignorant ones were male. One hundred per cent of the ones who lost a contest were male. One hundred per cent of the ones who smelt bad were male. One hundred per cent of the ones who were put down without retribution were male. One hundred per cent of the objects of rejection were male. One hundred per cent of the objects of anger were male. One hundred per cent of the objects of violence were male.?
When people first began to talk about this male crisis, my reaction was very male. I wanted to deny it. Men couldn?t possibly be having a crisis, I figured, because men ruled the world. Men steered the ship. Men were the officer class. Who ran all the corporations? Men. Who made all the big decisions? With a very small number of exceptions, men. Who earned the most money? Who shouted the loudest? Men. And who suffered at the hands of sexism, the Beauty Myth, the pay gap, and the glass ceiling? Not men. Who was Smart, but made Foolish Choices? Who Ran With the Wolves? Not men. Men, I thought, didn?t have all these problems. They weren?t always being belittled and treated as sex objects. They didn?t need to run with the wolves. How could guys be having a crisis? Guys were? guys were, like, guys. That said it all, didn?t it? "
Well, here's a chunk all about how many are portrayed badly in children's books. I can't post all of it, but he then goes on to trot out all the stats about how women outperform men at school, women are better at softer skills which are in demand these days, etc, etc.
Just to take this section. Honestly, media and children's books treat men appallingly?
Oh god, domestic disaster with colouring pens. Back later...