Word: millette
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Thus it's not at all surprising that one of Mailer's sharpest criticisms of Kate Millett is that "she has a mind like a flatiron, which is to say a totally masculine mind." He reacts against Millett and her feminist tome, Sexual Politics, on an immediate, instinctual level, the way he might balk if a woman sauntered into an all-male sauna in which he was sweating and luxuriating. He seems to feel instinctively that Millett simply doesn't belong where she roams, that she's misguided and out of her ken. His bafflement over another liberationist, a female...
...opens his attack by uncovering Millett's sexual gaff in her treatment of the motivation for the central murder in Mailer's own, An American Dream. Millett maintains that the novel's hero Rojack kills his wife to punish her for committing sodomous adultery. But Mailer insists (and who after all, should know better than he?) that the crime was not in fact, sodomy, but analingus. Academic perhaps, but indicative to Mailer of a mind that hedges the niceties of distinction, a mind that abandons evidence in the pursuit of thesis...
...criticizes Millett for sins of omissions as well. He notices that in a chapter she calls "The Sexual Revolution, First Phase: 1830-1930," she actually neglects to discuss anything that happens between 1900 and 1930. Thus, she quietly skirts the first world war and the twenties-a decade, notes Mailer, "conceivably as interesting in the emancipation of women as any other ten years since the decline of Rome...
...Mailer. The downfall of Willie Morris was precipitated in large degree by a prominently displayed, controversial article by Norman Mailer in the current Harper's (TIME, Feb. 22). Mailer takes up most of the issue with his caustic treatment of Women's Liberation in general and Kate Millett in particular. The article is loaded with explicit sexual references and slang more familiar to college bull sessions than to Harper's. Morris knew he was taking a chance by printing it. Running the Mailer piece, he says, was "the biggest editorial risk of my life, but I didn...
...Most of the burden was borne by Myrna, who spent twelve hours a day teaching karate at the downtown Jack LaLanne's. Our only recreation was listening to Rod McKuen on Sunday, and except for a few old posters of Mao and Marcuse, a signed photo of Kate Millett and a ritual five-minute recitation at midnight from the Little Red Book, she had given up radical politics altogether. I suspect that she would not have survived at all without wheat germ and a Spiro Agnew voodoo doll. Still, it was worth it. Come graduation, I was, once again...