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What men can – and should – take from the viral New Yorker short story Cat Person
It’s easier to just say yes’ sex. ‘I got myself into this and it’s too late to back out now’ sex. ‘I don’t enjoy this but don’t want to hurt his feelings’ sex. These are things women recognise and which we need to talk about
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Your support makes all the difference.“It made me feel like I could be reading about almost every sexual encounter I had up to my late 20s.”
A girlfriend and I were sharing our reflections on “Cat Person”, the short story that has sent tongues wagging and keyboards tapping since it was published in the New Yorker this week.
“I think most women can relate to it in some way – having mercy sex with someone because you feel like it’s too late to back out.”
Different friend, similar sentiment. And a quick scan of the Twittersphere revealed countless women echoing these experiences.
In the Age of Impatience, Kristen Roupenian’s 7,000-word short story went viral. #CatPerson trended on Twitter. Folks from Washington to Walsall had something to say about it. Where #MeToo had shone a light on the endemic problem of sexual harassment and assault, #CatPerson had cast light on an oft-experienced but rarely discussed form of sexual consent: when yes means no.
Cat Person charts the development of a “relationship” between 20-year-old Margot and 35-year-old Robert.
When she returns to university, however, everything has changed. An awkward date where Robert is dismissive and sarcastic almost ends in disaster until Margot suddenly realises that his fragile ego has been hurt by her innocent comments about a Holocaust movie being inappropriate for a date; about her turning up in casual clothes and “not dressing up for him”; about one of his jokes falling dismally flat at the snack counter. She presents herself as vulnerable and talks down her own intelligence to win him back round, and even sheds a few tears to let him play the big man again. It works.
Later, at Robert’s house, she realises once they’re in his bedroom that she doesn’t want to have sex with him, that she’s repulsed by his body and that she doesn’t enjoy his mechanical, pornographic positioning of her body during the act. She waits for it to be over, acts like she’s enjoying it to try and hasten the end.
Later, she stops replying to his text messages, but he continues to reach out to her and appears at a university bar she mentioned she frequented. Obsessively, he texts her after he sees her with her friends, asking if the guy she was with was her boyfriend, and finally rounding off his barrage with: “Whore.”
Margot is young, naïve, frustrating and dislikeable at points. But for many of us, her voice is painfully familiar.
In her conflicted internal dialogue, we hear our own previous experiences of self-doubt and acquiescence. Her tangled notion of power versus powerlessness. And, while she details her vacuous and unfulfilling sexual encounter with Robert blow by cringe-inducing blow, we recall the time we silently prayed (insert name here) got the sideshow over and done with quickly.
“It’s easier to just say yes” sex. “I got myself into this and it’s too late to back out now” sex. “This man might be a lunatic and I don’t want to find out” sex. “I don’t enjoy this but don’t want to hurt his feelings” sex. Sometimes the chatter is deafening.
As the story gained traction, it didn’t take long for the usual gaggle of Angry Hetero Men to arrive on the scene. “Breaking: Women revealed to have inner lives”, mocked one article, while a Twitter account was quickly created to capture the high(low)lights of male opinion.
“Obscenely vain young woman uses man to fulfil power/degradation fantasy – yet he is at fault for naively lashing out in the face of cruel disrespect,” wrote one angry man. “Way to contort poor erotic fiction into a vague ‘feminist’ treatise on why the word whore is somehow worse than demoralising condescension.”
“Every hetero dude should read this,” wrote one woman on Twitter to which the replies came “Not every hetero dude needs to read this” (and then her reply: “ESPECIALLY the hetero dudes who don’t think they should read this, and why so defensive?”)
It’s clear that some appear to have entirely missed the point. But this also misses the opportunity to have a frank and open discussion about power and vulnerability. So, what can men take away from Cat Person and the way in which it struck a chord with so many women?
The simple fact that countless women have shared this story widely shows that this is a problem. Women’s worth is measured by their willingness to please others, often at their own expense.
When it comes to hetero relationships, many of us will prioritise a man’s ego above our own pleasure. Self-blame and shame are bedfellows we are conditioned to live with from a young age.
“What about men?!” As the story is written from Margot’s perspective, the reader doesn’t get a window into Robert’s own internal conflicts, but toxic masculinity very clearly manifests itself in his insecurity, manipulative moments, discomfort with vulnerability, desire to possess and fragile sense of self.
In the words of Bell Hooks, “Patriarchy demands of men that they become and remain emotional cripples.” It’s a system that both benefits and binds men.
If Cat Person provoked a defensive reaction from you as a man, ask yourself why. Perhaps it was the memory of someone’s flinch upon your touch, or the juxtaposition of groans emanating from a slightly vacant face.
Maybe “whore” flies from your lips automatically any time your ego is bruised.
Perhaps it was the revelation that pornography is not educational material.
Who really holds the power? As summed up by Margaret Atwood: “Men are afraid women will laugh at them; women are afraid men will kill them.”
Women navigate their way through the world with a constant awareness of our relative physical vulnerability. Whether consciously or not, we self-police and self-sensor to mitigate this risk.
While sexual power can be used and abused by both men and women, in heterosexual sexual encounters, men aren’t generally the ones potentially fearing for their safety.
Patriarchy f***s us all. Cat Person isn’t a black and white portrayal of vulnerable woman vs. predatory man, and instead communicates a more complex and common reality. It holds a mirror up to the broken gender dynamics that warp our self-perception and mould our assumptions of what’s expected of us.
Ultimately, gender norms and power play limit our ability to connect with ourselves and others honestly, openly and safely.
Dismantling and changing patriarchal culture is work that we all have to do together. But until more men are willing to meet us on the bridge – instead of repressing or dismissing articulations of our lived realities as women – there will be many more #MeToos and #CatPersons to come.
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