Word: distaff
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...frankly and, when the genes move them, as raunchily as men. It strikes a blow for the picara by putting a heroine through the same paces that once animated a Tom Jones or a Holden Caulfield. And it suggests that life seen from what was once called the distaff side suspiciously resembles the genitalia-centered existence that male novelists have so long monopolized. The organs are different; the scoring is the same...
Women have got into the act. The Massachusetts Port Authority sponsors a distaff six called the Massport Jets, who ran up a record of 90 victories and two losses before slipping a bit last year -when they began to schedule games against the boys. There is very little difference between boys' and girls' hockey. Says Gene Doherty, whose nine-year-old sister Patty looks forward to joining the Jets when she's old enough: "You wouldn't think it was girls, the way they're checking and mouthing...
Coppola is clearly at pains to make some of the points he made in The Godfather I again: that the underworld is a business organization; that there are ethnic divisions in it between Jewish mobsters in Miami Beach and Italian ones in Las Vegas; that the distaff side of the family is protected from the unpleasant side of the business; that everyone--including the Godfather--lives in constant danger of sudden death; that the protective function of the Sicilian mafia was not wholly lost in America. But he introduces some new themes as well: the struggle for legitimacy (Michael opens...
...woman-baiting and good-timing are meant to seem hollow, pitiful. They are less than that. "You don't have a brain in your head," the owner's daughter yells at him, information that startles only Dillon. Since much of the distaff population of Delisle finds Dillon irresistible, it is tempting to deduce from Paperback Hero the message that the Canadian woods are full of masochists...
...only things missing at the Lou Reed concert this past Friday night, surprisingly enough, was glitter. In fact, the sole trace manifested itself in three heavily made-up girls clothed in black, one of whom my brother mistook for a distaff Lou Reed. Prior to the concert, I envisioned the normally lackluster interior of the Orpheum illuminated by a gilded aura; an aura emanating from the regal attire of an audience which was jaded by overtones of bi- and even transsexuality. I had almost hoped for a Cinderella-like transformation of the Orpheum into an aggrandizement of Reed's virtual...