Dear Phrontis: Marriage Prospects

Dear Phrontis is our advice column, featuring the questions we imagine people would put to us were anyone batshit crazy enough to write us for advice. The questions may or may not be made up or entirely drawn from our own personal lives, and the answers may or may not be safe to apply to your own. 

Dear Phrontis,

I’m 27, and between Susan Patton, Julia “What Are You Waiting for” Shaw, and my Aunt Agatha, I’m totally freaking out about my marital future. Sometimes I don’t want to get married right now, and then I feel like kind of a bad person/idiot. And then sometimes I do want to get married (abstinence kind of sucks?), but then I feel like I’m going about it the wrong way. Should I entertain the attentions of any boy not raring to charge up a mountain in order to bring me eidelweiss? Is that actually a real flower? Should I be avoiding bars? Frequenting bars? Wearing lipstick? So many questions, so much pressure! Help!

Sincerely,

Conjugally Challenged in Charleston

Dear CCC

I’m going to pass over your vulgar allusion to your so-called “sex drive;” which, by the way, reveals quite a lot about the root of your problems with nice Catholic men. I’m glad you’re feeling bad about your ambivalence towards marriage; it is a sick and sad world when women play coy with their duty and only shot at happiness because of some immature piffle about “goals” and a lifetime of unpaid labor. Economic upheaval, widespread moral anarchy, and the growing threat of Golden Dawn fascism in Greece are all mostly the fault of unmarried women.

But, although guilt is the first step towards atonement, I’m not sure there’s much you can do in your case. As my friend Tennyson (mostly) writes:

Her tongue got sharp, her hips got wide;

Her ovaries shriveled up inside;

“Crone-hood has come upon me!” cried

The lady of Shalott

How do I put this gently? You, my pet, are a 27 year-old prune. As James Taranto tells us out of the disinterested helpful goodness of his heart, young women like older, clever, sophisticated, rakishly charming men (much like James Taranto), and older men (like James Taranto) like coeds.  Once you’ve passed your expiration date, there’s nothing any of us can do about it.

If you insist on freaking out about a grim future completely beyond your control, why not focus on the things that will actually destroy your life? Scan the headlines; “sequestration” and “North Korea” are getting a lot of press time right now. I’ve found setting up a google alert for “pandemic” can be particularly helpful.

But, if you really think you’re going to be the one that beats the odds, here are some ground rules rules to follow.

1) Men are not real, different, complex people like you and me. The lessons from the decline and fall of your roommate’s last relationship should definitely be extrapolated to all men, everywhere, at all times.

2) Men don’t like: girls who are easy, frumpy, ditzy, threatening, talkative, boring, crazy, opinionated, made-up, ugly, feminists, not Grace Kelly (actually, no one should like you if you’re not Grace Kelly), women who make the first move, women who make any moves, and in some cases, women. Adjust your behavior accordingly.

3) Remember, there is nothing more attractive than a woman living with the paralyzing fear that if she violates a constantly shifting set of arbitrary rules and fails to mold herself into the perfect Eternal Feminine, no one will love her and she will die alone.

Yours,

Phrontis

P.S. If you are fool enough to go out with some Mickey Rooney clone, or any other sop who goes around yowling “Annie Laurie” (of all things). I wash my hands of you.

Previously

More excellent advice

 

Atheists for Opressive Modesty Culture

Alain de Botton’s essay on pornography seemed generally well received by those used to beating the anti-porn drum to near universal indifference or mockery. I found it rather disheartening–if a public atheist is going to join the Church’s stance against sexual vice, must he merely parrot the reasoning offered by said Church’s most sexist elements?

De Botton starts to flounder when he elides porn and sexual desire in general. A traditionally (but by no means intrinsically) male vice becomes the reference point for robust sexual desire; the sexist assumption that sexuality is male, that men are the sexual subjects in whose concupiscent dramas women play supporting roles, persists unchecked throughout the entire piece.

This assumption leads him to the kind of subjugating reverence for the power of beauty (and, as sexual subjectivity is inherently male, beauty here is inherently female) I’d expect more from some poor 16 year old boy hopped up on Christopher West.

The secular world reserves particular scorn for Islam’s promotion of the hijab and the burka. The idea that one might need to cover oneself up from head to toe, because believers might lose their focus on Allah after seeing someone scantily clad, seems preposterous to the guardians of secularism. Could a rational adult really change their life on account of the sighting of a pair of beguiling female knees or elbows?”

De Botton seems to think the answer is yes, and perhaps he is right. But that’s immaterial. Women do not exist primarily or solely to be looked at by men, and I do not need to cover my disruptive, titillating female body so the men can get back to their important, spiritual, rational lives. My knees and elbows belong in public space every bit as much of a man’s.

He continues in the same vein, before offering a defense of the aft mentioned “severely affacted.”

“Would one not have to be mental weakling in order to be severely affected by a group of half-naked teenagers sauntering provocatively down the beachfront?”

What exactly does a provocative saunter look like? Something like… just walking down the beach? Has it ever occurred to Botton that those teenagers whose walk he finds so wanton might just be taking a walk and enjoying sunshine and salt without parsing how some random onlooker is sexualizing their movements?

When men are the only sexual subjects, women are only sexual objects. Female attractiveness is conflated with sexual action, and men are allowed to unilaterally assume mutual sexual engagement based on an internal and subjective desire. Any outfit, any movement, any action can become “provocation.” Bizarrely, Botton is allowed the language of passivity and resistance–he is a weakling severely affected by these instigators and aggressors, those provocateuses sauntering towards him–even though he is the one projecting his own sexual stance upon a bunch of complete (and underage) strangers.

I am no friend to pornography, as a Catholic, as a feminist, as someone who would like to fillet anyone who tries to corrupt the sexual sensitivity of her younger siblings.

But, as someone who believes that my faith actually has some content, I don’t have to swallow every cultural taboo, sexist trope, or faddish formulation jumbled pell mell under the moniker “religion” by someone searching for beautiful museum pieces with which to furnish his moral life.

“Pornography consists in removing real or simulated sexual acts from the intimacy of the partners, in order to display them deliberately to third parties. It offends against chastity because it perverts the conjugal act, the intimate giving of spouses to each other. It does grave injury to the dignity of its participants (actors, vendors, the public), since each one becomes an object of base pleasure and illicit profit for others. It immerses all who are involved in the illusion of a fantasy world. It is a grave offense. Civil authorities should prevent the production and distribution of pornographic materials.”

The Catechism is strangely silent on the dangerous power of female beauty. Catholics and atheists alike, take note.

Happy International Women’s Day

Here is my present.

 

Was your Valentine’s day not all you expected? Did the man of your dreams turn out to be a two timin’ sonofa or closet Steven Crowder?  Or, even more common in these shameless modern times, did he ditch you for some broad with a thirty thousand pound dowry or fail to mention the mentally ill wife locked in his attic till you were on the point of saying “I do”?

Here, without further ado, is a breakup playlist inspired by the different* ways some of our favorite romantic heroines, broadly defined, handled heartbreak, split-ups, and rotten lovers..

Feel free, of course, to add your own.

Marianne Dashwood 

Honorable mention

Elinor Dashwood

Because, although she does not exactly tell Edward she should have changed that stupid lock, she should have made him leave his key, etc, she is a survivor if anyone is.

Honorable mention

Miss Havisham

Honorable mention

Jane Eyre, re Rochester

Honorable mention

Jane Eyre re St. John Rivers

Dido, Queen of Cathage

Honorable mention

Anne Elliot

Scarlett O’Hara

Cathy Earnshaw

Honorable mention, because I had to

Fanny Price re Henry Crawford

Ellen Olenska

Tess Durbeyfield re Angel Clare

Medea

Maggie Tulliver re Philip, Stephen, dry land, life.

*Of course, there’s different and there’s….different

Two Fantastic Posts

by Leah Libresco-

On Comic Books

On Consent

 

Point of Order

Hey folks, sorry if it takes a little while for your comment to get through. I’m still moderating because every once in a while one of our friends in the manosphere pays us a visit.

And generally, you know, it’s only flesh and blood people calling me a lying whore that I can accept with equanimity.

On all this chivalry stuff

Honestly- I don’t care. I’m not particularly bothered by cultural norms that teach politeness, nor if politeness in American culture (especially the South) dictates a bit of extra niceness to women. Who knows, it could help make up for, I don’t know, the rampant sexism in our society and maybe it could help teach people that, women are people too and not pleasure objects or whatever. If it floats your boat and helps you in your pursuit of virtue have at it, and yeah, it shouldn’t be a completely blackballed term.

That being said, if you’re going to play this whole chivalry game, you respect not just certain kinds of women who are “feminine enough” to merit your graces, but everyone. That means you open the door for the models, the good Catholic girls, the tomboys, you offer your coat to the nerds, the feminists, the housewives, the athletes, you give up your seat the hippies,the i-bankers, the lesbians, the rude people- EVERYBODY. To do otherwise reinforces the really crappy ideas of “chivalry” and sexuality that came to a head post- Industrial Revolution.

(Like seriously-  think of the chivalry of the Victorian era and remember- it was this lovely sexual code that made it completely okay not only to give up your carriage or lifeboat to a woman, but also to annul a marriage because the husband found out that his bride had- egads!- PUBIC HAIR!!!)
And you do not hold them to some sort of standard of femininity, or see your actions as means of teaching this poor, wayward society what proper, Catholic, biblical gender roles… No. No, and No. You are polite and kind because it is the decent and charitable thing to do.

So: tl;dr- if you want to be charitable and polite, that’s fine. If you want to reclaim the word “chivalry” to reflect a just, equitable, and respectful society that’s great. But do not use your actions to wrestle others into their “proper place”, and do not mistake western cultural practices for God’s vision for humanity.

Kay? Kay.

Hey Hollywood

(and everyone else who thinks that putting a hot girl in an armored bustier or whatever is some kind of death blow to sexism)

I got yer “strong female characters” right here.

“As a young adult, she visited her contemporary, the Roman Emperor Maxentius, and attempted to convince him of the moral error in persecuting Christians for not worshipping idols. The emperor arranged for a plethora of the best pagan philosophers and orators to dispute with her, hoping that they would refute her pro-Christian arguments, but Catherine won the debate and succeeded in converting all of them to Christianity, for which the philosophers and orators were executed by an enraged Maxentius. Catherine was then scourged and put in prison, during which time over two hundred people came to see her, including Maxentius’ wife the empress, all of whom converted to Christianity and were thereforemartyred.^[7] Upon the failure of Maxentius to make Catherine yield by way of torture, he tried to win the beautiful and wise princess over by proposing marriage to her, at which point in time the Saint declared that her spouse was Jesus Christ, to whom she had consecrated her virginity. The furious emperor condemned Catherine to death on the spiked breaking wheel, an instrument of torture. The wheel was miraculously destroyed, however, in answer to St. Catherine’s prayer, and so Maxentius had to settle for beheading her.”

 

Aww, poor Maxentius. I’m sure he found a nice pagan girl eventually.

 

 

Rihanna and the People Who Talk About Her, or, In Which I Threaten Everybody Again

Look, I’m sure you make better choices than Rihanna. I’m sure you do! I’m sure you are totally right to shake your head gently and pityingly at that poor girl who just can’t seem to get her act together, because the flawless poise and wisdom with which you have handled every single minor crisis in your life ensures that were you ever to face the horrifying nightmare of the man you love beating you about the face, you’d keep calm and have a cupcake, or whatever that slogan you just pinned says

I’m sure you know all about being a survivor of intimate partner violence! I’m sure you have something to say to all those abuse survivors who leave seven times before they leave for good. I’m sure you know all about the cognitive dissonance, the humiliation, the emotional torture, the fear of reprisal, the Stockholm syndrome, the devastating blow that has been dealt your sense of your own dignity.

I’m sure you’d love to spend some time learning how to be part of the communal support network needed to help survivors move on, if you weren’t so busy pointing out that really, if women would make better decisions this wouldn’t be a problem.

“If you choose to go into a war zone, do you not carry some of the blame if you get hurt?”

Yes, returning to a loved one who has abused you is exactly like sashaying into a war zone. Anyway, that’s what I say to the homeless veterans I see. “You know, if there were fewer wars, and you made better life choices, you might still have your legs!

Either way,  you’ve had both experiences, so you know all about it. I bet it’s very helpful to survivors of domestic violence everywhere to cluck like a disappointed but indulgent mother hen and and explain what you would do if you were ever in that entirely hypothetical situation.

You’re not exploiting a victim of brutal abuse for a thrilling little re-affirmation of your own superiority! You just have lots of special thoughts to share about how you can’t imagine why anyone would go back to his or her abuser!

But seriously, don’t.

Because I don’t care if you are a right wing talking head, or some liberal NPR intern who can’t understand why every woman isn’t as empowered and autonomous and generally on the ball as you–if you share them around me, you will regret it

I Know The Election is Over, I Promise

This presidential election was the first I could have legally voted in. I didn’t.

Neither candidate seemed to offer enough possibility of good to make me overlook the probability of evil, and there wasn’t a third party candidate with the potential to cause the two major nominees serious pain. So I sat it out.

This, my high school civics teacher would tell you, is a very bad thing. Voting is a civic duty, a sacred ritual, the right for which our forefathers, and more recently, foremothers, suffered and fought. Failing to take full advantage of our enfranchisement is the shallow, lazy, self-centered detachment of youth at it’s worst. Get out the youth vote! Also, reading is FUNdamental and good people recycle!

Well, pace Ms. Baxter, I’m not so sure. It seems to me the emphasis on and definition of political engagement in terms of voting is a ploy to keep citizens, and especially the young, from organizing in more volatile ways. Vote! Work within the system and with whatever alternatives the parties offer you, and that way you’ll discharge your civic duty without breaking anything.

Nice people vote, and nice people recycle, and nice people don’t do anything rash.

Be a good girl, Lena Dunham tells us. Be cute (everyone likes a smile!), wink,  play your part, and accept that your virginity is still the most relevant part of your public person, and we’ll keep you safe and comfortable. Choose a nice guy, the guy who’s going to do right by you.

Be a good, submissive girl, and don’t ask too many questions. Pat yourself on the back for recycling, and don’t think about whether anything other than radical upheaval in our mode and standard of living is going to slow climate change. Cast your vote, and wash your hands of all the miserable injustices we live and move in.

Of course, there’s no actual dichotomy between voting and other methods of political engagement; there’s just something amazingly soporific about the way voting dominates the discourse on political action, and the way political action itself is just another method of personal curation. Vote, because it’s where the cute, cool, girls are. You know, the fun, sexy feminists.

Lena Dunham is not the voice of my generation, but perhaps here she’s finally found her demographic. The cool, cute, fun girls. The ones who don’t ask questions.

(For a more measured perspective, go here.)

Back like Bach

Hi, it’s me! Remember me? Oh, that’s ok, I’m sure you will after another glass or two. Sorry this blog has lain fallow for so long, friends. There was this family thing, and then this hurricane thing, and then I went to Paris (Paris!), and then this flu thing.

But anyway, why don’t we get to know each other again over a few links?

Occupy!

Yes, world. I flirt with you because I like you, and I like me, and sometimes it makes you be nice to me. Moving on.

Courtesy of William

Since everybody suddenly wants to talk about sexual ethics in the military, can we remember this?

I know the election is over, but Fulgani Sheth is a treasure

“And before someone tells me that that’s a patriarchal question—that women should be able to make their own decisions and survive independently of “their men,” let me suggest that we look around the US for a quick min: It’s a patriarchal society.”

Great piece

This too

I’m so glad someone is saying this.

Good to know that The Atlantic’s trolling of women has gotten both less interesting and less feminist.

For instance, why bother fighting for maternity leave and a social and economic system that fairly values female labor and female bodies? The Atlantic has a better solution for you. You being a rich, privileged woman, that is.

But let’s be real, is there any other kind?

Lulz

This made me nod a lot. I think he’s really onto something about how the grotesque, cartoonish villainy that defines how we think about racism has made the daily, insidious racism we all participate in much harder to see and challenge.

Oh, and here is your Bach

Update: This!

Guys

There is definitely NO misogyny or sexism on the Christian right at all. 

The modern phenomenon of labeling every drunken hookup that the woman later regrets “rape” is every bit as much a lie as the phenomenon of “she deserved it so it wasn’t rape”.

 

Because men preying on women who are too drunk to consent to sex never happens. Drunkenness equals consent, you fornicators.

Whew. Glad we got that straightened out.

Lessons in “Betrothed Love” That I Really Ought to Have Learned Before Now

Youth can be woefully ignorant, and young love perhaps even more so.  I like to tell myself that I may be less ignorant than others, but that’s a lie and we all know it- particularly my confessor.

Anyhow, after five months of engagement, here’s some things I’ve learned (most of which I’m positive someone told me already):

10. I have a lot of crap. And it’s a problem. And I have to move it into our apartment in six more months. That’s even more of a problem. This could have been avoided if I had heeded my papa’s biannual pleas for a closet purge. Or if I didn’t have a vocation to marriage and ended up going off to convent. Whoops.

Sweetheart? Aren’t you so stoked to be moving things for me?

9.The wedding industry is completely absurd- particularly the markup on food if it’s a “reception.” I think it might actually be cheaper to just take everyone out to dinner and just buy some handles of booze for everyone to share

8. Marriage has actually become about “celebrating the couple and their love” and not about community or family or, you know, the sacrament. #bigfamily/bigweddingproblems

7. I don’t like shopping and planning as much as I thought I did. I still like pretty dresses, though.

6. I really don’t understand why people would not get married in a church. All sorts of other philosophical and theological reasons aside- it’s SO much cheaper.

I don’t understand why the Church won’t let me dress like this for MY wedding

5. More ceremony ranting: being original is stupid. No one’s going to remember that you were the only one to have hand-made napkin rings, or that you had little mustache placecards on all their seats. Ever. They’ll think about it for about a day afterwards and when they run into you for the next six months, but that’s it. So stop freaking the hell out and spending your time on so many random details when you could be, oh I don’t know talking to your fiance, writing friends, having a brewsky with other pals, having a life?

4. Really people? All I want is a little set of photos so that I can convince my kids that I was actually young once and scare my daughters by how much they look like me. I don’t want to go through this or heaven forbid THIS. (NSFW, dreadfully immodest, and just poor taste. You’ve been warned)

3. On that note, chastity is hard, folks. Really f’ing hard (pun totally intended).  Also no one out there in the chastity movement world really talks about it in a sane way. (Except JPII and a handfull of other sane folks. But then again they’re outside of the “movement” thing, and I digress)

3. I really want to be married (and no, not just for the reasons above). I’ve been surprised, however, by how much of a challenge it is to work on building a life with someone and then have to go back to your own home at night instead of curling up with him/her.

2. I’ve also been floored and humbled by just how much I still have yet to discover about my fiance- especially in our spiritual lives and in learning just how his mind works.

1. This whole idea of putting off marriage for reasons x,y,or z is just silly (assuming you have a vocation, want to make it work, blahblahblah).

I’m interested to see what I learn in pre-Cana.

Bold Claims: Soccer ed.

I’m super nervous watching the US-Guatemala game, and bummed that we’re in this position in the first place… I also don’t want to watch the debate.

In the meantime I’m going to take it upon myself to introduce a new feature: Bold Claims. The basic idea is something like this:

1) One of us makes a random bold claim

2) We use tongue-in-cheek evidence to support our assertion

3) Readers and other Babes try to knock it down

4) The original babe has to write an essay about the original topic. It must either support her original position, addressing all the (substantial) points made or may agree with the dissenters, but for a different reason. Snark permitted, and in no way does the bold claim or latter essay have to be something you actually believe.

Soccer is the most Catholic of all sports.

Evidence:

 

Perspective

 for when the modesty people piss me off too much.