it must have been love

Most facist states have nationalist propaganda. Americans—we have fairy tales.

My mind has been polluted with fairy-tale propaganda. I just watched my mother’s favorite movie, Pretty Woman, with her. As much as I loathe fairy tales, as a feminist, as a cultural critic, as an aspiring iconoclast, I still got that warm, fuzzy feeling when Richard Gere—typically, I can’t quite remember the name of the man I’ve fallen in love with—returns to sweep Julia Roberts away to a new life.

Romantic images dominate our lives, regardless of what role we see ourselves in, including those outside of the fairy tales. Even those of us who’d like to see the “system” torn to pieces and discarded cling to the promise of a new beginning. We’d all like to be “pretty women,” in one way or another. We may scoff at, or even scorn, those so consumed by an uncritical search for their knights in shining armor or their charming princes. But in the end, what we hope for is really just a different kind of savior—one willing to recognize the errors of their past and embark on a new trajectory with us sharing the helm.

So where does that leave us?

No comments: