The Great Write Way, Chapter Two: Twice upon a time...
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
I apologise if I implied anywhere that all lies were good.
No, no, you didn't do that at all - my befuddlement was - and is - because there seems such a huge difference between the two things. Buffy (and for heaven's sake, tell me, please, if I'm remembering this wrong; it's been years since I saw that episode) knows the answer to her own question, and Giles knows she knows it.
So I'm mentally doing this sort of transposition thing in my head, and it goes like this:
Woman: Does this dress make me look fat?
Man: What do you want me to say?
In that instance - opinion, please. If he makes that answer, does she know that he wants to tell her the truth and say, yes, in his opinion (which she's asked for), the dress or whatever is totally unflattering and makes her normally curvy rearend look like something she personally doesn't want to contemplate?
And if he says, "no, not fat - but it makes you look sallow, doesn't do you justice, and that blue one looks sensational on you, why not try that one instead", is that futzing with the monkey grooming thing?
I suck at this stuff, what with the lacking of tact. So it fascinates me.
I know when close friends mean something other than the literal reading of their words. So "Does this make me look fat?" really means "I don't feel good about how I look right now. Comfort me." and *my* answer would be "Why you gonna ask ME that? You look great, let's go." Do I care if she looks fat in it? Nope, and I know her well enough to know her subtext.
Other friends might answer her "No." or "No more than usual." That's up to
their
social contract.
However, she does know how to ask me the actual question of "Does this make me look fat?" It might be something in her face or her hands, or her stance. And that question gets the sort of answer she wants -- flat out, but gently delivered, if required, truth.
That snippet of the episode is Giles finding out he's supposed to lie right then -- it's Buffy's need to hear one specific answer that I was trying to demonstrate.
So, it varies from person to person - yep, okay. Makes sense. But that takes me back to the complete one-sidedness of the standing joke. Because
However, she does know how to ask me the actual question of "Does this make me look fat?" It might be something in her face or her hands, or her stance. And that question gets the sort of answer she wants -- flat out, but gently delivered, if required, truth.
If the standing stereotype is correct, then men can't read any signals. And I guess maybe that's the stereotype that's really puzzling me.
Because either I'm even blunter than I think I am - no mistaken signals ever, which I don't believe - or most men can read signals.
Because, see, pretty much all the men I know?
Can. Truly. They read signals just fine.
edited for clarity.
In my experience, some guys are more intuitive than others about subtext, but there's nothing gender-related about the inability to understand social nuances. Fuck, guys have wanted me to lie to them too.
I don't think the standing stereotype is supposed to be any more accurate than "men can't cook" or "women can't drive stick." It's a cheap and easy joke, which has no real bearing on human tendency or ability.
I'm just pondering here, in a nice lazy late in the evening way - but I have to say, it's only just occurred to me that my own basic "je ne grok pas" on this stuff may well have led me to not notice that men in my life wanted to be lied to. Scary thought.
Man, it's a wonder I'm still married, after all these years.
"men can't cook"
Heh. That one went west with the advent of the Food Network. All those superb chefs...
Well, but that's a whole 'nother gender thing. That women can be adequate at their given craft (even and perhaps especially gender stereotype fields) -- sewing, nursing, cooking, secre...tarying. But that men are still at the top of each field -- fashion designers, doctors, chefs, executive assistants.
In general, I think I deal with much cowardice with the social contract stuff. I will likely tell you whatever complimentary thing you want to hear, regardless of its relative truth. "Does this make me look fat?" will result in a reflexive "No, of course not, you look great!" without me giving much thought to how you actually look. But then, in generalities, if that sort of opinion is being sought, rarely is the subject in real dire straits as far as appearance goes.
"Am I interrupting?" will also get you "No, you're fine." In fact, almost any similar query will get, "Oh, you're fine." which may, in fact, mean that you were doing whatever you were begging pardon for, but that I will put up with your rudeness. Of course, I may employ The Eyebrows, if truly necessary.
Further, if I ask, "How do I look?" I am looking for a relatively honest answer, but of course, I am seeking a positive response. I want the answer to that question and the truth to both be "Great!" If truthfully answered, "Horrible!" I may respond well, but still feel (experience) hurt. If I thought I looked horrible, I probably wouldn't have been standing in front of you and certainly not asking. I must have thought I looked passable, and so, your reply means that I am somehow lacking in sartorial sense or some other terrible and hitherto unnoticed faux pas.
See?
To throw a lariat around this whole post and try to lug it back to topic, this is why sometimes I fret about feedback in this thread. I put my material out there because I think it's passable. Of course, I want people to think it's wonderful, or I wouldn't have put it out. Then, I refresh my page a bunch of times, because I am relentlessly impatient for affirmation. And when I actually get feedback, I am suspicious of it, because it is positive. I don't want this thread to be for hairpats. Surely I have written some things that are awful, and people should tell me so.
But, otoh, when people (like deb, who I know to be forthright) do give compliments, I take them in the spirit given, insofar as that is possible.
I have no bloody idea what to do with my creative writing class today due to the fact that I was thinking it was a workshop day and just now realized that it is not. Any ideas? I've covered most of the basics of poetry and prose with them, and I don't have time to put together a screenwriting or scriptwriting lesson.
Take them outside, tell them to find something outside and write 1,000 words on it.
Oo, good idea!! Inspiration from the outside world! It looks like it's going to be beautiful today, too.
Exactly. And really, what's the school going to do--fire you?