Word: greers
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...most beleaguered males, it would seem that the U.S. has enough demonic spokesmen for Women's Lib without having to import them. But Germaine Greer, 32, who arrives this week to publicize her new book The Female Eunuch (McGraw-Hill; $6.95), has some outstanding credentials. A contributor to the European underground press and lecturer at the University of Warwick, she has a Cambridge Ph.D., lean good looks, an unquenchable stream of bright, wild talk, much of it unprintable, experience on the telly, and a new proposal for the oppressed...
...foot-tall Australian, Greer is billed as the rare feminist who likes men. In fact, she seems obsessed by sex. Her marriage lasted only three weeks, but she speaks freely of her pleasure in being a sort of super-groupie, and the sort of woman who can tame violent men. Indeed, there are a few passages in her book that make her sound more like a Helen Gurley Brown than a Kate Millett. (Keep your lover by letting him go free. If you have joy and strength, you will never be lonely...
Affirm the Libido. Most of The Female Eunuch is a thorough exegesis of the tenets of Women's Lib-exaggerated, unreasonable, but written with passion, wit and a bottomless supply of earthy words from centuries back.* Though Greer is erudite, her book is far less intellectual than Kate Millett's Sexual Politics, with its long, scholarly analyses of Mailer, Lawrence, Miller and Genet. Greer is more interested in the popular press, which she combs for illustrations of her thesis. To her, woman has become a eunuch, a poor creature castrated and forced into passivity by men, who have...
...been before, on the side-lines of their husbands' lives. If the women of the thirties were best typified by the Garbos and Dietrichs on the one hand, and by Mae West and the "screwball" comediennes on the other-then the forties woman is reduced to the lady-like Greer Garson in a piece of trash like Mrs. Miniver: being brave at the fade-out. Currier House includes none of these movies. (Ophuls' 1948 Letter from an Unknown Woman, although made in Hollywood, is not really typical). It's just as well, I suppose; the movies...
...come to believe that the good guys can only win. I once so worshipped the New York Giants, Y. A. Tittle and Del Shofner handled the football so beautifully that they could not fail. On Sundays I could balance Tittle's lyrical bombs with the brutal contact of Roosevelt Greer and Sam Huff and happily watch the Giants mutilate they lost and their following dwindled...