I get the sadz when I see male writers try to gratify their ego(s) by writing forth with a female main character. I’m of the school that concurred with David Foster Wallace when he called John Updike a penis with a thesaurus.
In short, literature about women should be left to feminist literature.
Like, I mean, that pig Kurt Vonnegut had crude drawings of a vagina in his books. Stuff like that was considered funny back in the Stone Age. And did you know that in Good as Gold that other famous sexist misogynist of postmodern literature, Joseph Heller, had a character say she’d been practicing how to give fellatio just to impress Bruce Gold? Don’t even get me started on Thomas Pynchon. Talk about the male gaze! And that other great understander of the female mind, Don DeLillo – he ghostwrote something called Amazons. What more proof do we need??? William S. Burroughs believed in an male society with reproduction confined to test tubes!
But I’d have to admit that sometimes when a male author undertakes the female viewpoint the result can give me the feelz. When a literary friend told me I Am Mary Dunne was written by a man I couldn’t believe it, so that’s one good example. Also If Beale Street Could Talk, that was by a man. And one called Brazzaville Beach.
So this proves truth this can sometimes happen, even if Madame Bovary still makes us puke today, what with our modern consciousness.
MAY VISS has posted comments on more than 5000 message boards. Among her many interests are the land and the sea.