I shame the matriarchy

manly:

Being constantly stressed out that you are fucking everything up but being too stupid to say so or ask for help, being afraid that actually showing a full scale of emotions makes you gay, fearing ridicule more than death, while maintaining a dashing, roguish grin and impressive pectorals. Oh yeah, with a lot of scratching and grunting.

Flex.
 

Manly is standing between me an a ferocious Canada goose on the golf course, waving a 5-iron and cursing. It's also feeling helpless in the presence of any person that weighs less than 10 pounds. And it's congratulating the guy in the next stall when he rips a big one.

Seriously, I think masculinity, in the best possible way, is a sense of protection toward the ones he loves, a sense of responsibility for his own self.

It's also really hairy.
 

and per Antiprince's observation involving neckties- it's the toys! A boy has small Chevelle he runs around in the dirt. A man has a BIG chevelle he runs around in the dirt, or drives by places he knows other men hang out so they can be in awe at the size of his...er...car.
 

Scratching and grunting?

At the same time, or is it more like chewing gum and walking?
 

fearing ridicule more than death

yeah, why is that?
 

Manly is the nickname for Almanzo Wilder...

oh.

never mind.
 

belle - you remember that too? with Nellie Olsen? and the pepper?
 

Figleaf writes often on this topic and has a lot of good things to say... you might be interested: http://realadultsex.com
 

I love men. I can't help it. They're just...remarkable in spite of themselves.
 

A truly "manly" man never thinks about his manliness. Which is impossible. Which means there is no such thing. The less he cares or thinks about it, the better he is. Hope that made sense.
 

What masculinity has come to mean to me, so far, though being a man and being manly may be different:

Part of it is a definition of courage, the best I've heard to date: "Doing the expected in extraordinary circumstances."

Being able to find a balance between an uncompromising sense of self and purpose -- and the brutal introspective honesty that is the topsoil from which it sprouts -- and the necessity of dedication, loyalty and service to those we value.

Being aware that our actions echo in time and in the lives of those we affect, and participating in life with this as our guiding star, neither capricious nor shirking a vital existence due to the risk of consequences that could come to stain our hands.

To know what we would die rather than become, and to stand our ground when this is tested.

To strive to be someone our friends, associates and loved ones can look upon with pride, and to avoid, as far as we can, actions we could only relate to them in shame.

To continue to walk under the burdens of our mistakes, our failings and our moments of wavering integrity, knowing that each moment is a chance to be a better man: moment to moment, hour to hour, day to day, year to year.

To reach the point where this is what we are by nature.

And finally, to die worthy of having lived.
 

but infra - why are those characteristics considered "manly"?

To strive to be someone our friends, associates and loved ones can look upon with pride, and to avoid, as far as we can, actions we could only relate to them in shame.

how is that any different from striving to be a good human being?
 

AP: I agree -- there's a large overlap between what seems to be considered masculine, and what would be considered just the characteristics of a good human being. I think that if there's a difference in these goals, it's in approach. It lies in the view that it's our obligation to confront and endure pain in order to achieve them.

I think, for example, that shame is a bigger motivator than pride. It's regarded as the default state, into which we will slip if we do not keep up our guard.

I'm not saying that this is healthy, necessarily, but I think that it's a common element to all of these things: definition by trial, being constantly called to account.

It's a bit like living in the hall of Ma'at, constantly reciting the negative confession, Ammit always at our heels.

A darkened version of The Fool, if you will.
 

Infra - None of those characteristics are "manly" as none of them are gender-specific. They are simply the hallmarks of a mature, responsible, decent human being.
 

I think manliness has to do with bodily functions, primarily. Stuff like hair, and odors, and gaseous things. Stuff femininity rolls her eyes at and says "gross"
 

cassandra: Again, I agree. They're not exclusive to a specific gender, or a specific sex. I certainly don't mean to imply that these things are specific to men, if that's how it came off; and I wouldn't presume to explore what femininity means, or what it means to be trans or intersex, or how these might contrast with what I wrote. Such is not my experience and such an exercise would be one of presumption.

However, in my conversations with men over the years, in my own experience, and in my involvement with fraternal orders dedicated to exploring and developing these issues (not mythopoetic, more like guilds if a parallel had to be drawn), these are the things that have regularly surfaced.

Anything beyond them, and the aspect of pain and shadow-confrontation that informs them, seems to be a matter of style.
 

However, in my conversations with men over the years, in my own experience, and in my involvement with fraternal orders dedicated to exploring and developing these issues (not mythopoetic, more like guilds if a parallel had to be drawn), these are the things that have regularly surfaced.

huh. so maybe that's not what manhood means, but it's what men think manhood means...which, well, that would make it what manhood means.

I didn't think men really discussed it at all, in any setting, beyond your odd Robert-Bly-fest.
 

I didn't think men really discussed it at all, in any setting, beyond your odd Robert-Bly-fest.

It is discussed, or rather... I've found that men are usually willing to discuss it, and will do so openly, almost eagerly. It might be at a bar, or watching a movie, or hanging out at someone's apartment, or grabbing a cup at the local coffeehouse. But in this I think that it's tied to the ideal of the mentor, or the fellow journeyman. (This being one of the reasons that so many of us have had troubled relationships with our fathers, I think, in that this kind of relationship has fallen by the wayside in many cases.) Sometimes the questions just aren't asked, and I think that has a lot to do with mutual suspicion -- which, in turn, seems strongly rooted in our internalized self-concepts regarding violence and potentially malicious sexuality.

That, however, is a substantial tangent, probably not suited for the current thread.

IME... it's easiest to ask the questions when we see each other as fellow travelers, separate, but on similar roads. And it seems like the pivotal element in that is being around a man who is taking an honest look at himself and his surroundings, and wants to know what we see, as well.

It strikes a chord, I think; something that we know that we've missed, something that we've lost, even though the wound isn't bleeding any more. And that chord can cause us to resonate. Then it's up to us to carry on the tune.

This doesn't always happen, of course, but even a few are worth the effort, and I owe a great deal to the men who set those harmonics ringing in me. I only hope that I'm playing well, and not too far off key.
 

I think this is also a big big part of the appeal of say the Promise Keepers. Heavenly Father and the company of Real Men, or those who are trying to take up that mantle anyway...
 

That, however, is a substantial tangent, probably not suited for the current thread.

no, please - feel free.
 

no, please - feel free.

Thanks. I'll try to keep this to a reasonable length. Note that the content at some of the links may be triggering, especially for the film.

I think that a good way of illustrating part of this is through two snippets of pop culture: Custom's Hey Mister is a good example of the lighter side, comparatively speaking. (Many songs by Captain Ahab would also fit, including pretty much the entire "After the Rain My Heart Still Dreams" album, which is essentially a portrait of modern sexuality, or the lyrics of "I Can't Believe It's Not Booty.") The darker side would be one of Gaspar Noe's films, Irreversible.

"Hey Mister" is notable not only for the lyrics, especially the ending chorus of "I hope I never have a daughter," but also for the reactions I've gotten from friends when they've heard it; one, whom I've known since high school, and who has a young daughter, ended up changing the station when the song came on, saying that it was his fervent hope that she grew up to be a lesbian. It was a comment in the "ha ha only serious" vein -- comic, but expressing a truth. I think that many guys who have grown up with younger sisters know the sentiment: protect her at all costs, because you know what guys are like.

Regardless of the original source, I think that this message gets driven into us: that men rape, beat, exploit and kill; they get women pregnant and leave them, and abandon their kids without remorse. That it's the rare man who doesn't, and who's deserving of applause when he appears on Maury, being supportive. That if we're not careful, the other guys, the non-exceptional ones, will eventually come for the women we care about, and that it's our responsibility to prevent that. That in all likelihood it's already happened, and we have to accept whatever lashing out may result, because it started with one of us.

But this also drives home the idea that this is what we are by nature, that we could -- or even should, at a certain age or during a certain part of our lives -- succumb to it, and things like the nice guy vs. jerk conundrum tend to codify and reinforce that. It's part observation, part self-perception, a kind of predator/protector dichotomy, but internal and needing constant control lest we slip from one to the other, or weaken the protector aspect just enough to allow for calamity. Irreversible, as difficult as it is to watch, illustrates that fear in an explicit form.

I don't think that there's any overriding sense of brotherhood with men. Not the way that I've seen the term "sisterhood" used in various places, anyway. Not that kind of identity. It seems to me that we relate more by testing the waters, gradually, in small clans. From there things join together or interact. (The bonding of a squad in boot camp is a good example, moving up from there to the platoon and larger structures by association, but never as close.) I think that's a healthy thing, actually; when men rally around ideas, trying to form coherent large structures, as with the Promise Keepers or MRAs, the results are... questionable.

But this is where these internalized concepts of potential violence and malicious sexuality cause the most damage between men. They make it difficult to relate man to man even in small groups, and inhibit the development of the required basic trust.

All of this is conjecture, of course. But it seems to get mentioned often enough, from portrayals in the major media to discussions in the seduction community, that I think there's something to it.
 

"Doing the expected in extraordinary circumstances."

I dunno. Taken far enough, that's the basis of just about every Monty Python sketch. (It's also, now I think about it, the engine that drove Seinfeld, which makes me wonder if it's a formula for neurosis as much as anything else.)

I was so taken by RenEv's ferocious statement of the Red Feminine back when this subject came up that I was tempted to try and come up with something parallel for masculinity, and found myself brought up short. Because the more I thought about it, the more I was concluding that none of the things I could think of were really about Men.

Masculine isn't courage. It isn't strength or gentleness. It isn't reason, or ambition, or stoicism. It isn't adventure or the linear plot, and it isn't victory or achievement or conquest or sacrifice. It isn't the blade, the spear, the staff, the drum; it isn't the sky or fire or the penetrating force. It isn't vision or foundation or movement. None of those things I can claim as Mine, as a Male, as the boundary line of my sphere; they're all, once again, about people, full stop.

To tip the hat to Chip Delany, they may describe, but they don't define.

I realize I am a statistical outlier in many ways, but, fluffy Jungian though I am, I've been dissatisfied with mythopoeic delineations of the masculine for a while now - ever since I realized Pinkola Estes resonated for me at least as much as Bly.

Which is all a terribly twee and long-winded way of saying: I just don't know. I'd say I know it when I see it, but I'm not even really convinced of that. (So far, I'm liking Antiprince's definition best of any, though for my money it's nothing so much as a diagnosis.)
 

(And not only do I not know, I don't know if I'm convinced it's important.)
 

To tip the hat to Chip Delany, they may describe, but they don't define.

That's the key point, though, isn't it? There probably is no definition, but without descriptions, without some way to gauge our trajectories, what and where are we?

What, then, is the difference between a man and a generic human being? I think it's in a need to have an answer to that question that conceptions of masculinity become important. Can we come to any real understanding of ourselves without some kind of reply, something other than "none?"

(As an aside, I have to disagree with you about Monty Python and Seinfeld. I think we're using very different definitions of extraordinary, there.)
 

Come to think of it, I think we may actually be using different definitions of "expected," but as you will. :)

What, then, is the difference between a man and a generic human being? I think it's in a need to have an answer to that question that conceptions of masculinity become important. Can we come to any real understanding of ourselves without some kind of reply, something other than "none?"

See, that's the thing; I'm not sure if it's important, or why it would be, to make that distinction - I don't know that it's necessary to come to self-understanding as a male as a discrete category from as a person. The key places it seems to make any real difference is during sex (and, by extension, what role I'd play in the physical creation of new life, should I choose to do such a thing), and not having to make sure I have tampons around. That's about it, as far as I can tell.

Note that I don't want to gloss over the problem that "male" is considered generic and default for personhood. What I suppose I'm uncomfortable with is approaching masculinity in a way that implies Men Are Special. I think a lot of conceptions of masculinity lead there - Men Are Special because we're strong, or brave, or logical, or driven, or whatever. I humbly suggest we fuck that noise.

I guess a big part of my deal is that all the stuff I know about the supposed masculine ideals - be assertive, play fair, protect your own, use good sense and logic, take pride in your work, fight for what you believe in - I didn't learn from men; I learned them being raised by uppity women. So I know I'm coming from a place where I don't feel like I need solidarity with other males as an affirmation of who and what I am, so I don't mean to come off as insensitive to folks who do. But I admit my hackles go up when I hear about men's sense of self-identity being wrapped up in gender, because it's about one and a half meals away from the lamentations of guys who feel threatened by "pussification." I think that road, ultimately, leads right back to the mess we're in now.

I mean, gender's a great game, and I admit I enjoy playing it; but I'd have a lot less fun at it if I couldn't homebrew the rules.
 

See, that's the thing; I'm not sure if it's important, or why it would be, to make that distinction - I don't know that it's necessary to come to self-understanding as a male as a discrete category from as a person.

I'm not sure that they're discrete categories, more one that informs our sense of the other, in the same way that, for example, my reaction to power electronics and death industrial informs my knowledge of my artistic tastes and leanings. I suppose that at root, it comes down to how much we feel we differ from others, where we feel we have common ground, from where those things arise and how we choose to deal with them.

And in that I humbly suggest that the humble be arrogantly chucked. That particular noise deserves fucking, as well as the related Men Should, Nay Must! Be Special genre. If anything, I think that examinations of masculinity are, fundamentally, about self-discovery. Once man becomes Man, we lose that. There's a difference between saying that we often share many experiences and perspectives, allowing us to remain individual, and trumpeting out that if you don't share them, you're defective.

I suppose that some context would help to illuminate my perspective on this. Like you, I did get a lot of the same instruction from my mother. However, my father had also grown up seeing a number of things: domestic violence of men against women, as well as women against men, with substantial, visible injury in both cases; heavy alcoholism; neglect of various kinds, subtle and extreme. In spite of it all, I think that he managed to remain a good man, and what he passed on to me was one lesson that I never got from my mother, or from other women of my acquaintance, one against which she in fact rebelled: the means and ability to endure, without flinching, embracing the struggle and the pain as a means to understanding.

As trite as it may sound, I think it's worth noting that Palahniuk said that he wrote Fight Club based on conversations he had, groups that actually existed (Project Mayhem was based on the Portland Cacophony Society) and sayings that people, including his friends, actually used. Everything except for the clubs themselves was drawn from real life, in fact. I think that this speaks to a need, one that, for me, my father was able to fulfill in his way.

I'm not saying that the approach is superior, necessarily, even restricting the discussion to men only. But it does seem to touch an aspect of male experience, even if it is confined to our current social environment.

I'm not sure that investigating this would reinforce that environment, though. I think that it speaks to a dissatisfaction with it, a lack of place and meaning that actually has place and meaning, and a desire for change.

The very essence of homebrew.
 

But it does seem to touch an aspect of male experience, even if it is confined to our current social environment.

I'm not sure that investigating this would reinforce that environment, though. I think that it speaks to a dissatisfaction with it, a lack of place and meaning that actually has place and meaning, and a desire for change.

I think we're getting somewhere with this.

Yes, absolutely. I think the biggest benefit in examining masculinity is understanding what the pressures are that are particular to men, and what can be done to meet, overcome, or sidestep them. Because in many ways, those are the games I've chosen not to play - but, as with feminism, you should probably figure out what it is you're rejecting, and why.

I'd only draw the line at taking any cue from what my culture's expectations of what men ought to be as pointing to anything that men inherently are.

(Useful supplemental reading to Fight Club, if you haven't already: Iain Banks' The Wasp Factory, which I just discovered. More than that is difficult to say without significant spoilers, except to say that it addresses some of the same themes through a different lens.)
 

I think the biggest benefit in examining masculinity is understanding what the pressures are that are particular to men, and what can be done to meet, overcome, or sidestep them.

I think that we would need to add one thing to this list: understanding those things that, when they are unavailable, leave us with a profound sense of loss in our conception of manhood, and how these differ from what is dispensable.

I don't mean those things that we are missing, but those that are unavailable. There's a similar approach in some forms of Yoga, in which the individual contemplates a particular part of the body, say the right foot, in the form of, "If I were to lose my right foot, I would still be I. I am not my right foot," and so on throughout the body, attempting to reduce the concept of self to the essential. I think that we can investigate so-called manly things in the same way.

So if part of the conception of manliness is having a sleek car, what if you were living in an area where there weren't any, where it wasn't a matter of money or choice, but they just weren't available? Would not having a car make you less of a man then?

And so forth. Sometimes actually making this into an experiment can drive the point home -- going out and living somewhere where there aren't any cars, and doing so for at least a couple of months. In other words, examine what affects a direct challenge to that assumption might have.

In the same vein, maybe make an agreement with a significant other or roommate. For example, if you normally see doing housework as unmanly:

"I will do all of the chores and all of the cooking for x weeks. But I will not do this in front of anyone else or even mention the fact that we've made this agreement. Nor will you, and you will need to agree not to compliment me for doing it. If you do either of those things, the deal's off and it will be your responsibility to do them for the rest of that time, and if I brag about it or mention it to other people, I have to [insert series of humiliating acts here]." Then keep a diary during this period about how you feel about doing these things, how it affects your idea of the place as a home, how it affects your conception of role, etc. Then repeat this in different ways, with different targets, from time to time.

Of course, the effect of this kind of thing is dependent on the commitment and self-honesty of the individual, but that's one of the things that separates the men from the boys. Or so I'd think. :)

(Thanks for the reading suggestion. I'd heard about it but haven't read it yet; it's back on the list now. Although it's about a much wider range of subjects than just manhood, I'd suggest Danielewski's House of Leaves in return.)
 

Briefly jumping into the conversation...
The Wasp Factory is an amazing book. I second the recommendation. There's a twist in that book that I didn't see coming at all.
 

wasp factory, eh?...
 

I can understand why the mythopoetic falls short.

I was, personally, struck by the use of the Green Man myth in one man's erotic ritual, which i had the honor of participating in. unfortunately i can't go into details about the ritual or the person, since it isn't my story to tell; just...in general, various spiritual erotic workshops with the group in question has led me to reconsider my own relationship with men/the masculine, which was not something i had originally anticipated at all.

I don't particularly remember whether it was at that mixed-gender workshop or another where i sat in, separately, in the morning meditation of the gay Benedictine monks who live(d) at the retreat center where the workshops are held. I think another, on reconsideration.

but I remember talking to the male workshop leader at the end of that weekend, about how I finally "got" the significance of the Father, spiritually speaking, and how it might not in fact necessarily be a toxic or "patriarchal" thing...

it's really hard to recap, especially online.
 

...so in other words, yes, to echo what Dan was saying, it did have to do, i think, with the mythic dimensions of male sexuality as well as the male role in creation of new life; it was the first time i'd ever really gotten the idea of a male god as a sexed being, and what that might actually entail in a context which wasn't so...reductive of what male sexuality was supposed to entail or look like, as it is in our culture. Pan, the Wild Man, and yes the Father in many aspects.
 

And in that I humbly suggest that the humble be arrogantly chucked.

ayup.

i can't remember where we were talking about this, but there was some silly-scary--oh yes! it was -actually- *called* Patriarch magazine, i think--anyway, Christian Dominionists. so the guy was talking about the importance of male -submission.- To authority, that is; well to God, but you got an idea of how it played out in real world structure: it was an apologia for strict hierarchy. Man as head of the household, but only because he's in even stricter submission himself. It's the same principle the Army works on I expect.

and the thing of it is, in itself, I don't know that i necessarily see that impulse, that structuring as 100% bad always ever. what bothers me is the reification of it; that it's not a role, there's no choosing, this is the only path to salvation.

well, that and of course: scary frigging theocrats, i mean count the ways in which it was fucked up.

i think what i was particularly intrigued/disturbed by was the emphasis on how one must NOT trust the subjective, "feelings."

and it occurred to me, after seeing how those same techniques, that same type of language, has been employed oh say f'r instance by certain extreme radical feminist groups (most specifically i'm thinking of the MIM folks, who're beyond any of the usual suspects online)

...and it occurs to me that this is what's fucked up:

"feelings" (desire, intuition, emotions, pretty much anything having to do with the subjective, the interior life) have been relegated to the realm of the "feminine," which is then duly deemed inferior.

But it's not inferior -and- it's not particularly inherent toward being female; just as an emphasis on external authority is not "masculine." What it is, is authoritarian, and at its worst extremes, cult-like and destructive. It does tend to get all wrapped up in what some call "patriarchal" ideas, including, but not limited to, emphasis on male power (as in power-over); but that to me is simply a reflection of the way society has been structured for however long, and the myths and ideas that helped shape it.
 

belle:

Wrt the Patriarchy Magazine thing, I think it was that I read a post of yours that linked there, and following up on that I had found one about original sin, and how it wasn't Eve's fault, it was Adam's for allowing himself to slip in his proper role: that he had to be a leader in order to serve and protect, and that the fall came about because he had allowed himself to lapse. I had made an entry about that and how I saw connections there with the "myth of male weakness" idea that HS often writes about.

(Then there was the whole tangent about how this might be a modification and reification of a historical root, going back to things like the kuretes and the cult of Cybele. But that's another tangent and a speculative one, too.)

I think that you're dead on with the categorization of feelings as feminine, hierarchy as masculine, etc. Where I think the worst mistake has occurred is in the rigid compartmentalization of these things; in qigong terms, for example, focusing on pure yang instead of the lesser and greater circulations, or the role of an organ, sound or movement in the context of the larger system, or even the choice of certain ideograms as representations. Get the flow going freely first, and understand the approach: then work on the specifics; otherwise you're just asking for imbalance and injury. (Nevertheless, most popular books on the subject jump straight in with the major techniques, even if they aren't the change classics. Approaches to gender may be prone to the same fault.)

What we seem to be missing most is context. We can focus on Dionysus, but if we do this, don't we have to consider the relationship to the Maenads? We can focus on Athena, but if we do this, don't we have to consider both the events leading up to her form of birth and her role in the Oresteia? This is where I see the main failing of the mythopoetic movement. It's not just a matter of story, but of how these things fit in with each other, inform each other, supplement and detract from each other. It's tempting to look into the stories for the meanings we wish to find, instead of allowing them to speak to us on different levels, as in the Zen koans of the Mumon, especially the first, or Sufi storytelling and its use of homonyms and philology.

We could look at manly things as being the token interpretations of our stories and our attempts to understand ourselves, from the historical level (Calasso's The Marriage of Cadmus and Harmony) to the body physical and sacred (Sansonese's The Body of Myth), but in becoming tokens, losing their wider meaning -- and, especially, purpose within the whole. Not negative in themselves, necessarily, but negative through blind application. Apply them within an approach that's focused on what we feel is core to our sense of manhood, emotional, psychological and biological, coming to this by repeated and constant self-investigation, and we might be able to grasp why they're there in the first place.

Eventually, that might lead men to a genuine, personal understanding of manhood.
 

(You're right -- it was Patriarch magazine. The article was Male Passivity: The Root of All Evil.)