A Backhanded Compliment

A friend of mine recently commented that I was “sweet” to have done something for her. Another said I was a good friend because I was so “forgiving”. My response to both: WTF?!

I am not sweet. I am not forgiving. I am—

What?

I’m brought up short when I follow the line of my thinking. What is it about being called sweet or forgiving that so rubs me the wrong way?

It’s so girly, so diminutive, so little womanish. I write that with a small l and w, but really the model that’s in my mind is Little Women. Louisa May Alcott’s novel of the four March girls and their ascension to womanhood was a seminal work in my childhood. I can remember lying on my bed on a rainy Sunday eating peanut brittle straight from the box and reading for the umpteenth time the story of Jo and Meg, Amy and Beth.

Years later, when I came to study 19th century women’s fiction as part of my PhD, I got to read it again, and deconstruct it. (And take particular pride that Alcott’s work was the runaway best seller of her time, much to the ire of Hawthorne, et al.)

The novel was meant to be a chapbook of sorts for girls to model themselves after, and there is probably not a woman who has read Little Women who could not tell you who her favorite of the March girls was. Mine was Jo, the awkward sister, strong, mouthy, full of good intentions that often went wrong. Jo was the proto-feminist of the group, the one who wanted a career, the one, it is assumed, who was the stand-in for Alcott.

Jo was neither sweet nor forgiving, and she had a temper that sometimes got the better of her.

The sweet and forgiving sister was Beth. Pretty, gentle Beth–the one who died before the book was over. Not exactly as aspirational character in my mind.

Tagged as: 19th century fiction, American women's fiction, book review, classics, literary criticism, literature, women's roles

Tom Sightings

I get it. I used to bristle when I was younger and someone called me a “nice guy.” It was so emasculating! And yet, I can think of a lot worse things to called than sweet, or forgiving … or nice.
http://www.AnyShinyThing.com/ Lynne Spreen

For me, “sweet” is similar to “lovely” or “gracious”, but Suzanne’s “without guile” does it best. I use it when something happens that runs unexpectedly counter to the nastiness of modern-day life. OTOH, “forgiving” in a certain context means, “Thanks for the pass, sucker! See you next time I feel like taking advantage!” So that one isn’t as appreciated!
- http://midlifebloggers.com janegassner
  
  I’d rather get forgiving than sweet. Sweet is what I’d say if I didn’t feel like thinking of what I really wanted to say. It’s a toss-off, not a valid descriptor. Forgiving, that I’ll take, although in the case that it was said to me, it spoke more to the speakers feelings of guilt than any emotion of mine.
suzanne robertson

As a child I remember everyone calling me “Sweet Suzanne” I hated that term. I wanted to be bold, to be seen as intelligent, to be sassy. I set out to change my image and I pretty well succeeded. Having raised five children, sons and daughters, taught elementary school and worked with a variety of women over the years I have come to value the word “sweet” How wonderful it is to interact with a person without guile. Now, all these years later if someone says to me “that was so sweet of you” I take it as the highest compliment and everyday I try to be a little “sweeter” I guess life is all about perception! Have a lovely day.

Suzanne
chapter-two.net
- http://midlifebloggers.com janegassner
  
  Yeah, I’ll take bold and sassy over sweet any day.