Uncategorized

Great Lists Of 2012

Last year we here at Olivia Waite posted a year-end mega-list of lists. This year, we’ve been slacking off, but we did still find a few list-gems for your enjoyment.

What Should Liam Neeson Punch Next?

Important New Emoticons

SimplyNoise Reviews, in Order of How Soon the Author Will Murder Someone

5 Mundane Objects That Saved Important Lives

60 Moments That Gave Me Chills on Seattle’s First Day of Marriage Equality

The 20 Best ‘That Guys’ of All Time

And, the triumphal entry from the New Yorker: The Hundred Best Lists of All Time

Happy New Year to all!

Black and white ink cartoon of a party. Two men are at top, one with a bell and party hat, the other crooning a couple of music notes. Below is a woman with shoulder-length, curled hair, in profile, holding a martini glass.

Image via The Graphics Fairy

Post to Twitter

“Does This Book Make Me Look Fat?”

{While Olivia is sailing tropical seas, please enjoy this classic post from the Journal of Popular Romance Studies.}

Does This Book Make Me Look Fat?” by Sonya C. Brown

At the very least, romance novel readers live in a society that stigmatizes fat women. Research demonstrates that fat people suffer from prejudicial treatment in the workplace and in social life, including romantic relationships (Baum; Bordo; Joanisse and Synnott; Lerner; Lerner and Gellert; Paulery; Register; Solovay). Indeed, research suggests that men may prefer women who struggle with drug addiction over their larger peers (Sitton and Blanchard). In the corporate world, men whose romantic partners are fat women may be judged badly as potential employees in contrast with men whose partners are slender women (Hebl and Mannix). As a result of this stigma, Samantha Murray puts it succinctly: “We do not talk about fat and sex. The two appear as mutually exclusive” (239). The inclusion of larger women in romance novels addresses and perhaps, as Stinson suggests, helps fight very real fears that readers’ own bodies may render them undesirable in the sexual marketplace or liabilities to male partners.

Yet those same societal constraints make it difficult for readers to imagine fat women (as opposed to women size 16 and under) as romantic heroines. As one reader commented about another reader’s desire to read about a happy, confident fat woman as heroine, “Considering I’ve never met a plus-sized, ‘average,’ or fat woman who isn’t obsessed or concerned or worried about her weight and society’s perceptions about her, I don’t know how realistic this heroine would be” (Jana 26 Jul 2008). Size acceptance novels, in theory, offer readers an opportunity to read about just such a woman, enjoying her body within the context of a faithful heterosexual relationship—a woman who enjoys her body regardless of the fact that it does not meet, or to put it in a more optimistic light, is not constrained by, social expectations about women taking up space and limiting their appetites in order to seduce men. The absence of this heroine from size acceptance literature is revealing about the ambivalence of publishers, authors and readers towards size acceptance and HAES, as well as towards what size acceptance might mean about norms that continue to affect heterosexual relationships, such as the function of women’s bodies as pleasing to men rather than as vehicles of the woman’s own pleasure.

Post to Twitter

Six Bodies

{While Olivia is on vacation, please enjoy this classic article from the Journal of Popular Romance.}

“There Are Six Bodies in This Relationship: An Anthropological Approach to the Romance Genre” by Laura Vivanco and Kyra Kramer.

Each of these heroines has aroused her hero’s Mighty Wang. The term “Mighty Wang” (Wendell and Tan 36) was coined by Sarah Wendell and Candy Tan as a humorous way to describe the extremely large and effective sexual organ possessed by many a romance hero. The Mighty Wang (MW) can also be thought of as a symbol of the male sexual drive discourse: it is a penis functioning as a symbol of the ideal masculine socio-sexual body. The term “MW,” as it is used in this paper, will refer not to the individual body’s penis, but to the hero’s socio-sexual body. The appropriation of the name of this particular body-part to refer to the whole of a hero’s socio-sexual body seems particularly apt given that in romances there is frequent “use of the personal pronouns — me, he, him, himself — to signify this body part […]. The seemingly unavoidable use of these pronouns is a […] curious euphemistic practice because it equates the man’s penis with the man himself” (Johnson-Kurek 119). The sentence “She cradled the rigid length of him in her palm” (Castle 172) is an example of this kind of writing: the part seems to become the whole. Conversely, when the reader is told that a hero’s body has “Long, long legs, […] a broad back that went on forever, all golden-skinned and rock-hard” (Lindsey 47), the allusion to another part of the hero that might be long, broad, and hard is not subtle

Post to Twitter

Happy Hunger Games Weekend!

We here at Olivia Waite are but recent converts to the Hunger Games cult, but we are still pretty excited about the movie (especially since we have pre-ordered our tickets at a theater where cocktails are served). May your weekend be full of either Hunger Games fun—or Hunger Games avoidance—whichever you prefer.

But in case it’s the former, here is a lovely papercutting template from the always-impressive Scherenschnitte blog:

Click the pic to discover Scherenschnitte's full template!

Enjoy!

Post to Twitter