thinking about Stepford Wives
Sep. 26th, 2008 02:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mayamaiaSo in the women's studies class, we just finished watching the old version of the Stepford Wives - the one I own. (Because I forgot to return it to the Alameda Archives long enough that I ended up owning it.) (It's a good film.)
One of the curious things I noticed in it was how the things the men didn't like about the women always seemed to be integral parts of them - usually the things that made them most striking. The woman who claimed her husband had married her just because she looked right loved tennis - and she looked her best when playing the game. If he noticed her, it must have been in a game, but he hated tennis by the time he remade her. Bobby was crude and crass and had a messy kitchen, and she had lost her virginity to the man in a theatre... but he made her sweet and clean and polite. And the main character? She was a fine photographer, and was just striking when she was taking pictures, really alive with her mouth slightly open and her face lit. It had to have been one of the things her husband had fallen for... but he was sick of it.
It reminds me of what Victoria said when I stayed with her in Boston: over time, the things you first loved about someone could become what you hate about them, and true love is not to love what the person is, but who they are as they change and grow and you change and grow. I got that, I understood that, and that's how it works for me...
But all the same, I was alone six months later. I was frustrated, frantic, sad and lonely, but I still loved him - and he decided he did not.
I don't know if I'm going anywhere with this.
He always felt uncomfortable when I did things for him around the house. It irritated him and worried him, and I explained that I wanted to... and it pissed me off how he had this misplaced notion of what I was doing. I HATE to be forced to serve anyone, but if I am given the chance to give - on my own terms - I love it. Even people I can't stand, out of pride (that I'm nicer), but mostly people I like, and the more I like them, the happier I am to give. The Stepford syndrome may look similar, but it always feels like an expression of my independence: I will serve whom I choose, as I choose, with grace, but only they. I will serve no person who treats me or my friends badly - in fact, I will thwart them by any means, subtle or no. But he acted as if I had made myself less. Which is somewhat contradictory, all things considered.
I think I had... have? a lot of feelings that way. I am an idealist, I will be a perfect woman, as long as you treat me well. If not... I will never, EVER be my mother.
One of the curious things I noticed in it was how the things the men didn't like about the women always seemed to be integral parts of them - usually the things that made them most striking. The woman who claimed her husband had married her just because she looked right loved tennis - and she looked her best when playing the game. If he noticed her, it must have been in a game, but he hated tennis by the time he remade her. Bobby was crude and crass and had a messy kitchen, and she had lost her virginity to the man in a theatre... but he made her sweet and clean and polite. And the main character? She was a fine photographer, and was just striking when she was taking pictures, really alive with her mouth slightly open and her face lit. It had to have been one of the things her husband had fallen for... but he was sick of it.
It reminds me of what Victoria said when I stayed with her in Boston: over time, the things you first loved about someone could become what you hate about them, and true love is not to love what the person is, but who they are as they change and grow and you change and grow. I got that, I understood that, and that's how it works for me...
But all the same, I was alone six months later. I was frustrated, frantic, sad and lonely, but I still loved him - and he decided he did not.
I don't know if I'm going anywhere with this.
He always felt uncomfortable when I did things for him around the house. It irritated him and worried him, and I explained that I wanted to... and it pissed me off how he had this misplaced notion of what I was doing. I HATE to be forced to serve anyone, but if I am given the chance to give - on my own terms - I love it. Even people I can't stand, out of pride (that I'm nicer), but mostly people I like, and the more I like them, the happier I am to give. The Stepford syndrome may look similar, but it always feels like an expression of my independence: I will serve whom I choose, as I choose, with grace, but only they. I will serve no person who treats me or my friends badly - in fact, I will thwart them by any means, subtle or no. But he acted as if I had made myself less. Which is somewhat contradictory, all things considered.
I think I had... have? a lot of feelings that way. I am an idealist, I will be a perfect woman, as long as you treat me well. If not... I will never, EVER be my mother.
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no subject
Date: 2008-09-26 11:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-27 05:48 am (UTC)It's really annoying, because I agree with my sister - that's not what love is.
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Date: 2008-09-28 01:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-28 03:43 pm (UTC)I don't think it was so much silly as stylized - intended for social commentary.