I'm looking for evidence in other aspects of the text that this is a consistent and strong feature rather than a bug or simple side-effect, and I'm not really finding much. In other words, what I'm seeing seems indistinguishable (apart from being a bit tighter) from a university creative-level writing attempt by a competent but undeveloped writer whose teacher for some reason has yet to hit her with the rule "No kitsch". And that's more or less the crux of my criticism, not that there's nothing at all to talk about here in terms of the plot, but that the story doesn't offer much, if anything, artistically. — Baden
Yeah, I think this is entirely fair on it's own terms, but I suppose I just
can't not see the piece from a critical-sociological angle which is the 'level' at which is resonates for me. As I mentioned earlier, I first came across it in the context of the Aziz Ansari 'awful date' story, which I always saw as a kind of 'test case' for the MeToo movement, and gauging the kind(s) of response that occurred in relation to it. And what Cat Person helped me to do (along with the Ansari story and alot of what's been in the air since, of which Cat Person was one piece in an assemblage) was put into narrative form how a certain kind of situation can develop, and the kind of 'ingredients' that go into making it.
I mean, to delve back in a bit - and to follow some of
@Moliere's comments in his last post - one reading of the story is as a critique of desire, where both characters are alienated from their own desires - in different ways. Margot literally narrates her own situation (via imaginary boyfriend/narcissistic projective fantasy) as if she were
other than exactly what she is. Robert, for his part, doesn't question his desires, but it doesn't take much to see them as thoroughly socially scripted, especially the way he reacts to Margot's tears outside the club, where he clearly finds comfort in playing the 'comforting, strong man' while projecting an image of feminine vulnerability upon Margot. Robert is so alienated from his desire he doesn't even realize it. Which brings be back to
@Timeline's question:
Was his reaction at the end merely evidence of feeling emasculated from the experience - like when she laughed or when he received the text message from Tamara - or was it because he is one-sided in the experience and could not understand at all how his behaviour was wrong. — TimeLine
If what I said above is valid, then it's not just the case that Robert was emasculated (although he was) and that he couldn't see things from a non-ego perspective, but more that he can't see his own alienation
from himself, doesn't realize just how thoroughly mediated his own desires are, and the effects they have. And the point of all this being that this kind of alienation
cannot be thought in isolation from the social (the masculine script Robert sticks by), and the thoroughly confused relation to her own desires that Margot has (she asks him back home!, when by all accounts the night is going awfully, or at least very, very blandly). And if you read the
Ansari story (written from Her first-person perspective as well!), you get a very similar feeling that She was uncomfortable for alot of what happened and it progressed to a point far beyond what it should have been (n.b.
not blaming her, it's fucking terrifying and bewildering to be put in that position, and we are
not educated and socially prepared for how to deal with it for the most part).
And it's these kinds of resonances, where I just
can't see Cat Person outside of all of that, where I find it's value. On the other hand - yes, I totally agree that there could have been a far more effective vehicle to carry that fourth, and that yeah, alot of what I've said above is clearly not reading the story from a compositional perceptive. But yeah, that's just where my head's at when I read it.