Screens & Tech > Screens
Coming to terms with ‘Sex’
I started out among what exec-producer Michael Patrick King refers to as the “cocoa-time” Sex and the City viewers. When the HBO series’ episodes were handed over to TBS for syndication and harsh editing — the sometimes-explicit, commercial-free, half-hour-long show was whittled down to something safer, blander, and short enough to accommodate ads — (reformed) prudes like me dipped our toes into the stuff paid cable had wrought. Over coffee, of course. (Cocoa, as you may suspect, is for the weak.)
This all occurred during my summers off from college, because it’s true that only so many full-time college students actually etch out time for TV. (I’ve never gotten over it.) A few years ago, when my younger sister turned 18, she received the SATC box set from my mother. I had a permanent summer residence by that point, but returned home to visit and do laundry at least once a week (as is still my custom … I may or may not have an obsessive-compulsive fear of public laundromats). Anyway: There we were, my mom, my sister, and myself, all comfy and watching full-length episodes with plots that suddenly made sense. And the swearing! The boobs! The old-man butts! It was all so magical.
As a writer who litters her stories with personal information (I type, having just read Emily Gould’s disastrous New York Times Magazine account of doing just that), and one in possession of a “gross protuberance” — that would be not an unsightly cock, for the Cyrano de Bergerac-uninitiated, but a grand beak (thanks, grandpa!) — it’s no surprise that empathy was established fairly quickly.
But hand to Manolo Blahnik, I’m not here to confess “I’m a Carrie.” Nothing about $500 shoes or heart-diseased playboys turns me on — and I’ve a filthier mouth than Victorian-literature-loving SJP could ever dream of lowering her inhibitions enough to possess. (Also, I’ve never feared for the end of a relationship because I accidentally, erm, let one rip, if you take my meaning. If a gent can’t accept the whole pie of bodily functions, may I suggest dating a Realdoll?)
It was actually always Miranda I preferred. (A mentor of mine even refers to my ex-boyfriend as my “Steve.” Sigh.) The down-to-earth, hotshot corporate attorney played by stage-gem Cynthia Nixon liked chocolate cake and disliked post-coital cuddling and was the least centered on men — a trait Sex and the City feminists overwhelmingly took issue with. (It is a show about a sex column, my sisters.) Miranda, though, was usually the voice — our voice — that criticized that aspect of the show from within, asking her cohorts, essentially, “Why can’t/don’t we ever talk about anything else?”
It wasn’t that she was averse to sex or men (OK, maybe she had some trust issues. Who doesn’t?). Point is: They didn’t rule her. She had other things to do. While Carrie and Charlotte were acting like grown-up girls — roles LA Times writer Rachel Abramowitz recently attested Cameron Diaz is holed into playing — Miranda was confronting the struggle of buying property as a single woman, contemplating the outcome of an accidental pregnancy, and (spoiler!) balancing a career with motherhood. Sure, she was a tidbit darker than I am … less interested in clothes than me, so the other characters provided that necessary vicarious-retail-therapy element (that eventually became too over-the-top and rampantly consumerist, in my opinion).
As much as too-cutesy Carrie’s moral summations and old-fashioned Charlotte’s aversion to the word poop (though not rim jobs, bizarrely) made me want to pull my hair out, if I were totally intolerant of the other female perspectives illustrated in the show, I would have no girlfriends. I couldn’t even be friends with my mother, for fuck’s sake. I think Sex’s marketing got so irritating and out of control and PINK — a little like the last season or so — that we take for granted that the show depicted four unmarried women in their 30s and 40s, who were screwing like rock stars (the very same way bachelors have been portrayed for eons, only with emotions!), not The Golden Girls.
No, I haven’t seen every episode — certainly not in order. I probably never will. But when it comes right down to it, when the single major relationship of my life fell apart, or when I really like someone I shouldn’t (or when a dim-witted M.D. decides she thinks I might be pregnant — cute), and my mom calls and says, “Come home and we’ll watch Sex and the City. I have food.” I’m there.
Eck; maybe I’m still a cocoa-time viewer after all. •
On 5/30/2008 4:03:28 PM, purplemee said:OK -real words this time (unlike PL - whuuut??) Too bad PL entered so quickly all those big words. Ms. Linstrum (sic), I'm sure she prefers Ashley, has nothing but provided a quality "blog" type article as is her job. I have followed her columns and reveiws for months now and she does an excellent job, just snarky enough, just entertaining enough. And BTW - there's a litte of Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte, and goodness knows some Samatha in all women! Keep up the good work Ashley!
On 5/30/2008 5:38:59 PM, currentreader said:Purplemee is right. Ashley was simply trying to do her job. And who wouldn't write about how their own personal relationships were seen to be present in a TV show when that's what you are paid to do?
Miranda represents the flip-side to the other girls, yet she never leaves them. If Miranda were truly there to represent the strong, independent woman, wouldn't she have left her friends long ago? The bottom line is, although she is successful, Miranda is still a weak woman.
When Ashley says that without being friends with a "Carrie" or a "Charlotte" means that you would have no friends at all, she contributes to the negative portrayal of women being weak. This doesn't have to mean weak when it comes to men or her family: just weak.
To give up an independent identity to have "friends" is not helping the so-called "plight of women." It's too bad a "progressive" paper such as the Current would publish this. But hey, they publish worse, right?
On 5/30/2008 9:15:34 PM, CriticalDarling said:We'll have to agree to disagree, currentreader. I can see why Miranda might be viewed as weak for continuing to run with the same crowd, but I think she does it — as a lot of us do — because she loves her friends and she's tolerant of worldviews that aren't her own. She embraces people she doesn't necessarily agree with. (I only wish differing religious factions and world cultures could do the same.) Whatever their faults, Carrie and Charlotte genuinely care about her and don't stifle her opinions. Those qualities aren't easy to come by.
The circle of friends also includes Samantha, a character I wasn't able to incorporate into this article, but who is representative of an independent woman who — with the exception of her pals — wasn't out to please anyone but herself.
I've got to say, I love how this show gets women talking. I think everyone's got something valuable to contribute to the conversation.
Ms. Linstrom's column on the truncated version of the series "Sex and the City" suffers from the same choppiness that the series seems to suffer from (in the truncated non-cable version at least). By trying to give us her feelings about her own experience of the kinds of discussions the series goes on endlessly about Ms. Linstrom has copied that same rambling what IS the point reaction that I have when I watch the series. Carrie is only pretty to watch because Sarah Jessica Parker IS pretty to watch and so are the other characters. I do like the way Ms. Linstrom went into her thoughts and feelings about each character but I am left confused about just HOW she relates to the topics of discussion presented by "Sex in the city largly because she Over Uses the parenthetical and when she does use it she doesn't seem to use it in a short fashion simply to clarify or to display emotion. I agree with her however that the one character who seems most modern and realistic is the one character who both has a successful career and ends up being a single mom to boot. I don't remember Ever having the kinds of obsessive conversations about finding a man that the Ladies of "Sex and the City" constantly engage in. There just isn't anything engaging about entertaining that level of breathless desperation. What today's women often seem to do just as their mother's before them is discuss with their close girlfriends is problems that come up when we are in relationship. That discussion which sometimes takes the form of wanting the partner to be something they are not by nature seems to be timeless and no doubt EVE in the garden of Eden was discussing how she would like Adam to change IF only her could. But at least Eve had an excuse for looking at her man as one more home improvement project: Adam was the only guy she had to choose from. This is what made the Carrie and Mr. Big subplot work for so long. We got a chance to vicariously enjoy someone esles frustration and angst rather than deal with our own. Maybe the series has helped some of us women make our girlfriends allys in thinking out before we take the leap into just another relationship we set about to fix. Let's reserve that for the relationships we did not choose namely our parents that we have some responsiblity to reconcile with (at least in most religions and ethical systems) and also let's reserve reconciliation for that other relationship where we didn't quite choose the personality of the person we ended up with---our children. I do applaude Ms. Lindstrum in that she sees herself mirrored in the independent not so worried about getting a man character of Miranda. But I won't go into the tendency of "Miranda's" to have "Steve" relationships