Of Hopefuls and Heroines

I've had quite a full week.

Over the course of this week, the final stages of the massive redecoration of my apartment went into full effect. But because of the long hours spent moving furniture and meticulously sewing tablecloths (and oh how I wish I was kidding), its left me time to watch lots of ridiculously trashy television. TV of the kind I have not watched since I was in college, and my roommate and I would sit on the couch on a Sunday afternoon and marathon America's Next Top Model while we pretended to do homework and recovered from the weekend.

While finding my mindless reality TV online was not difficult, watching it actually brought back to mind many things I had forgotten. Like the fact that the second season of Project Runway was surprisingly great, both with the drama and the clothes produced, so much so the current incarnation is a poor substitute. I remembered that Tyra taught me that there is a difference between smiling and smiling with my eyes, and the seriousness with which she imparted this lesson. And lastly, how ridiculously stupid some people on these shows can be.

Now most of my reality show viewing, limited as it was, was really reserved for Project Runway (high on drama queens, low on the stupid people), but Top Model was ripe with stupid comments. And I think the pinnacle was from the beginning of season 11 (I refuse to call them cycles), which I never saw the first time around.

In the audition process we meet Susan, a recent grad from Harvard University, lamenting how her ivy league education was detrimental to her being taken seriously as a model. Besides the fact that her comment was extremely condescending, I would have told her not to worry about her brains getting in the way of anything. Because after talking about her university, and the fact that she majored in English Lit, Tyra then innocuously asked her to name her favorite literary heroine in English literature.

The girl could not name a single one.

I mean, are you kidding me? Not only could it give Tyra, god bless her, a chance to act superior by talking about Jane Eyre and White Fang (umm...heroine?), but I actually find it extremely sad the girl could not name one! Leaving aside the fact it was her major for four years, and at the risk of sounding like a unrelenting feminist, you can't think of a single strong woman in literature since the invention of the English language?

Are you crazy?

Mind you, the males generally have it better in literature. For awhile in my teens I had a mixed literary crush/hero worship for Edmund Dantes because he was just that deliciously bad ass. But despite the role that most women were placed into in classic literature, I could still name an innumerable amount of awesome ladies that I admired almost as much as the Count.

The aforementioned Jane Eyre. Elizabeth Bennet had wit and sense in spades. I always felt Miranda from the Tempest had a certain strength. Hester Prynne, Lucy Honeychurch, Isabel Archer. Jo March was, personally, my ideal as a young girl. Still is, in fact.

So I find it extremely disheartening that this girl could not name a single literary lady. There are so many to choose from! Make a sister proud.

But speaking of awesome ladies, and literary heroines, I also reread Northanger Abbey this week. I am quite the self proclaimed Austenite, but Northanger Abbey has always been low on my favorites list. But reading it with fresh eyes, I had a lot more patience for, and in fact finally found the charm, in Catherine, the heroine's, naiveté.

This truly surprised me.

I know it was written as a satire of the Gothic novels of the time period, but a few years ago I found her annoyingly gullible. But her artless observations and judgement of the world actually make her unknowingly witty, and I finally found the humor in it. And this realization gave me a new appreciation for the love interest of the novel, Henry Tilney. He was constant in affection, amazingly clever, and found delight and admiration for Catherine's good nature along with me. This, coupled with Jane Austen's proto-feminisist comments as an omniscient narrator have made me reassess its position on my favorite Austen list.

But its interesting that I get so mad about stupid girls on American TV, read Austen's criticisms of patriarchy and delight, and yet can exist happily in Japan. I think its part of being a foreigner, clearly labeled as such, and the exclusion from society as a whole also affords me a sort of freedom from the restrictions of said society.

I do not exaggerate when I say that, in terms of women's rights, its 1964 here. I could write a dissertation on the parallels, but suffice it to say that this is a country where women have a taste of education and are in the workforce, but men still hold all the power. For most of them, their only drive in their early 20s (and truly, what many see as their only option) is to get married and have children. A valid choice if it is just that, but here females are pressured to the extent that women over 25 are referred to disdainfully as "Christmas Cake," or past their prime and unmarriagable.

I wish I was making this up.

There is a younger generation, women in university or just out, yearning for something more than what they see set out before them. And as a Western woman, they confide in me, sharing with me the desire to keep working when they marry. To do more with their life then just find a man to support them.

If ever there was a country in serious need of some bra burning, Japan is it.

So what can I do? Bite back the bile I feel at the inequality and continue to encourage those who do want more to just take it. But Japan is still a country where, in 2009, there are certain jobs only men can apply for. Where there are true office ladies, low level paper-pushing positions with no chance of promotion, who are sometimes forcefully phased out of their jobs at the age of 27 to make room for a 21 year old girl. Where being a flight attendant is seen by most girls as a dream career, international and unattainable. A society where they are expected to giggle and wink and be just the right mix of cute and subservient, while never contradicting the men around them. A country where husbands are out drinking till late every night, but dinner is still expected to be ready and waiting on the table when they stumble home.

But I don't parcel the blame to the men, its the society as a whole. And there are some accomplished women, and many good men. But the system is flawed, and no where near what it's like back home. Its quite jarring at times, and turns me into the angry feminist I never set out to be. And suddenly silly posts about reality TV turn into something more.

So I leave someone more capable to conclude it then I. Miss Jane Austen said it best in Northanger Abbey, and though speaking of Regency England, I find it frighteningly applicable to Japan today. It is the facetious assessment of the qualities good in a women. So please enjoy the wit of Jane, the kind of which I could never supply.

She was heartily ashamed of her ignorance. A misplaced shame. Where people wish to attach, they should always be ignorant. To come with a well-informed mind is to come with an inability of administering to the vanity of others, which a sensible person would always wish to avoid. A woman especially, if she have the misfortune of knowing anything, should conceal it as well as she can. The advantages of natural folly in a beautiful girl have been already set forth by the capital pen of a sister author; and to her treatment of the subject I will only add, in justice to men, that though to the larger and more trifling part of the sex, imbecility in females is a great enhancement of their personal charms, there is a portion of them too reasonable and too well informed themselves to desire anything more in woman than ignorance.