Cat person dating site
It is from Margot’s perspective—her perspective as filtered through this particular story’s author-God—that Roupenian’s story unfolds: Margot meets a man named Robert, several years her senior, and then successively flirts with him, texts with him, goes on a date with him, sleeps with him, and, finally, breaks up with him.(Robert, for his part—the name is appropriately bland, especially next to that of Roupenian’s Tenenbaum-reminiscent protagonist—functions, through all this, as something of a cypher: Readers come to know him only through the refractive lens of Margot’s mind.)“Cat Person” is a good and striking story.Rather than hovering in the realm of high-brow escapism, it dives down into the messy muck of life: the confusion of social signals, the cheerful ambiguity of a heart-eyes emoji, the self seen through the eyes of the other, the sex that is bad but not quantifiably Bad.Fiction allows us to say things that we cannot say in life — to embark on trajectories of experience that we might never have access to in reality.To take this power away from artists — their very ability to create and construct, to use the material of life in the way that a painter uses oil colors or an illustrator a pen — is, as the author Tanwi Nandini Islam put it, “suffocating.” When we look to our texts to teach us not how to think, but to think, we suffer for it — as artists and consumers of art, but also as citizens.(Claire Messud: “If you’re reading to find friends, you’re in deep trouble.”) And the common tendency to dismiss the literary products of women writing about women’s lives as “chick lit.” But there’s also the fact that women writers’ characters are often simply assumed to be autobiographical, as if their authors are not possessed of enough moral imagination to create characters who are fully fictionalized.While male authors tend to be given the luxury of fiction—Jonathan Franzen will say what he wants in a New York Times op-ed, and his work will still be evaluated on its own terms in that paper’s Book Review—women are often not afforded that basic professional courtesy.What, exactly, is happening when so many people mistake literature for “newsy” confession?
The category error assigned to Roupenian’s crafted story, however, also has something to say about #Me Too.
But when we read a text looking for ways to live, instead of looking for ways to consider the world, we don’t develop the moral and ethical compass that we need to make decisions of our own willingness and accord — not at the behest of some other, woker character or writer.
If the extent of our critical-thinking skills is a metaphor comparing the Death Eaters to the Republican Party, we’re fucked.
Still others commented on the sheer relatability of the narrative, which seemed to flow right out of the dating misadventures of so many millennial women — and so many millennial personal essays.
In fact, on Twitter, many readers expressed surprise that the story was fictional weighed in, with a piece called “Dear Cat-Person Girl,” written in the form of a letter to Margot that chides her for having slept with seven men by age twenty: “You’re only a fictional character, Margot, but at the same time, you’re not.” These readings engage with “Cat Person” on a sociocritical level, as a kind of fable with a moral that pops off the page and into our personal lives.
Instead of viewing fiction as an opportunity to enrich our view of the world, or as a way to explore emotional and philosophical themes — in the way that a painting, for example, explores color — we’re asking it for lessons on how to live.