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- <text id=90TT1185>
- <title>
- May 07, 1990: Class Act
- </title>
- <history>
- TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1990
- May 07, 1990 Dirty Words
- </history>
- <article>
- <source>Time Magazine</source>
- <hdr>
- BOOKS, Page 110
- Class Act
- </hdr>
- <body>
- <p>By Priscilla Painton
- </p>
- <qt> <l>THE WORST YEARS OF OUR LIVES: IRREVERENT NOTES</l>
- <l>FROM A DECADE OF GREED</l>
- <l>by Barbara Ehrenreich</l>
- <l>Pantheon; 275 pages; $19.95</l>
- </qt>
- <p> Wrap socialism, feminism and environmentalism into one
- person's sensibility, and what you're likely to get is a lousy
- dinner guest--someone who will find alienation in a Johnny
- Carson monologue, pesticides in an arugula salad and phallic
- symbols in the latest James Bond movie. But in contrast to some
- of the solemn ideologues who share her causes, Barbara
- Ehrenreich is a leftist with levity, so don't get discouraged
- about the title of this provocative new collection of essays.
- </p>
- <p> Unlike those socialists depressed by the Reagan decade who
- retreated to their seminars on French deconstructionism,
- Ehrenreich went scrounging for morsels of social insight in chic
- restaurants, living rooms, corporate offices, Playboy magazines
- and even a make-believe White House Situation Room. She returns
- laughing--at Ronald Reagan; at the American medical system,
- which would rather produce a "temple-sized ultraquark-powered
- graviton for the visualization of intestinal gas" than put up
- with sick people; and at the "unbearable being of whiteness,"
- which led presidential candidate Richard Gephardt to tell
- "moving stories about his youth as a poor black boy in the
- South, and how he had inexplicably turned white, clear up to and
- including his eyebrows."
- </p>
- <p> If humor was Ehrenreich's emotional armor for the 1980s, it
- is also her best instrument of subversion. While other women are
- busy pointing fingers at one another for their family and career
- choices, Ehrenreich makes her case for working mothers by
- debunking, with the endearing sting of a suburban survivor, the
- guilt trips thrust upon them. Don't worry about missing your
- kid's "stages," she says, because "no self-respecting
- six-year-old wants to be reminded that she was once a fat
- little fool in a high chair."
- </p>
- <p> Yet her biggest feat is finding a few innocuous ways of
- bringing up the generally unpalatable subject of class in
- America. Growing economic polarization, she argues, has made the
- professional class, which is inherently insecure, more smug and
- selfish. Much of her evidence involves incidental, sometimes
- lighthearted perceptions about how this uneasiness reveals
- itself. To escape association with a shrinking middle class,
- yuppies have learned to choose the baby bass en croute over the
- chef's salad, Italian knit sweaters over flannel shirts, running
- over basketball and handcrafted cabinets over mass-produced
- maple.
- </p>
- <p> But Ehrenreich often undermines her anthropological wisdom
- by concluding her essays with whiny pronouncements, as in:
- "There is something grievously wrong with a culture that values
- Wall Street sharks above social workers, armament manufacturers
- above artists, or, for that matter, corporate lawyers above
- homemakers." And as if to justify her hostility toward yuppies,
- she insists on painting an idyllic picture of blue-collar
- Americans as "more intellectually engaged," more generous of
- spirit and, of course, better in bed. Overall, her observations
- suffer from a simplistic yearning for a nonexistent era when the
- poor were not blamed for their poverty, when people did not cram
- their appointment books and when college graduates pursued
- ideals instead of salaries. For all her wit and sharp insight,
- Ehrenreich offers no guarantee that she won't turn up cranky for
- dinner.
- </p>
-
- </body>
- </article>
- </text>
-
-