My memory is suspect, hence this blog. (After all, we determined just yesterday that I could sit through an NCAA tournament contest, one where I was writing a feature story about the fans, and forget that it was a 1-point heartbreaker.) So to say the following memory is vivid is to say nothing, but here it is.
At one of my first mystery-writer conferences, a small one in Philadelphia, there were several female writers standing together and they were asked to describe their characters. Now, the women in this group were all quite slender, but to a woman they said: “My character is 2 inches taller than I am and 10 pounds lighter.” The question worked its way down to me: “My character is the same height as I am and probably weighs more, but has more lean body mass.”
As of yesterday, based on some mysterious voodoo with calipers, I may be able to lay claim to getting closer to Tess Monaghan’s lean body mass. (Which is to say: I have reduced my percentage of body fat by ONE percent after two years of training.) I’m proud of that, but I’m prouder that Tess is still what some folks call a strapping young woman. In the latest book, I describe her size as “usually a twelve, but had been known to flirt with a fourteen after a Goldenberg Peanut Chew fling.”*
The fact is, Tess probably weighs almost as much as two Nicole Richies (at her lowest weight). If she has an antecedent in fiction, it’s Sue “Biggie”Kunft in John Irving’s The Water Method Man. Here’s Biggie, talking about herself to her future husband, Bogus.
“‘I was always big,’ she said. ‘People were always fixing me up with giants. Basketball and football players, great big awkward sorts of boys. Like it was necessary we be matched or something. ‘Got to find someone large enough for Biggie.’ Like they were finding a MEAL for me. People always feed me too much, too . . . People just seem to think it means something if you’re big, you’re supposed to have some sort of special attraction to big things.’”
So here’s to the big girls of fiction. Anyone else have nominees for this particular Hall of Fame? (Lizzie Skurnick just lionized Marcy from The Cat Ate my Gymsuit, for example.) And, of course, there’s Cannie in Good in Bed. (Sequel coming this April! With bat mitzvahs!) Also, Sarah Bird’s heroines tend to be women with normal body types; in “The Boyfriend School,” her would-be romance writer tries to conjure up a big gal named Hattie, who wears a size 10 shoe and is “the tiniest bit broad in the beam.” (Her editor asks her to change the name to Cassie “the type who forgets to eat . . . a heroine who buzzes with life and energy. The pounds just can’t find a restful spot to stay on her boyish frame.”)
I’d also be up for hearing about some big boys, too, but none come readily to mind. Nero Wolfe?
ETA: Here’s the <a href=”http://jezebel.com/359726/the-cat-ate-my-gymsuit-a-pocket-full-of-orange-pits”_blank”> link</a> to Lizzie’s most recent column.
*The word “fling” was carefully chosen. As a recovered bulimic, Tess doesn’t binge.
Hmmmm, the Deep Valley Diet: muffins on the first day of school . . . endless pans of fudge, put out on the back porch to harden . . . that huge sundae at Heinz’s . . . Floating Island . . . onion sandwiches . . . Welsh rarebit . . .
By the way, this seems like a good place to mention a memoir I can’t wait to read: Thin is the New Happy, by Valerie Frankel. (Title is IRONIC!)
In Alexander McCall Smith’s Number One Ladies’ Detective Agency series, Precious Ramotswe prides herself on her traditional Botswanan figure.
Sadly, I can’t think of anyone else to add. But as a 6 ft. tall woman with a size 10.5 foot (a size that almost NO ONE makes), I do love this thread!
Erle Stanley Gardner as A.A. Fair created the detective team of Bertha Cool and Donald Lam, his version of Nero & Archie. Bertha was usually described as weighing about 160; Lam was short but feisty.
Damn! Leslie beat me to Mma Ramotswe.
What about Katy Munger’s lead character, Casey Jones? And Meg Cabot has the Heather Wells series. It includes Size 12 is Not Fat, Size 14 is Not Fat Either, and Big Boned.
Goldenberg’s Peanut Chews- aren’t they called Chew-ets Peanut Chews now since their takeover by Just Born(makers of Peeps).
Tess, like her creator, tends to be stuck in the past. They are, and forever will be, Goldenberg Peanut Chews to us. And I am deeply grateful that the old manufacturer was featured in Candy Freak, by Steve Almond.
I’m tempted to say that crime fiction is a bit more progressive on this front. At the same time, there are some wonderful writers who seem to equate the “trim” female figure with moral superiority.
Erica Jong once wrote of a thin character that the woman ate lots of chocolate and never gained an ounce. “A sure sign of demonic possession,” she added, or words to that effect.
Has anyone tried dark chocolate M&M’s yet? Hmmm, where did that come from?
How about Lula, Stephanie Plum’s sidekick in the Janet Evanovich books? She refers to herself as a big, beautiful woman.
Laura, Tarry Awhile is my very favorite Beany Malone book of all times!
Dark Chocolate M&M’s are wonderful, as are the dark chocolate Cherry Cordial Kisses from Hershey (if you can find them!)
Tarry Awile is good, very good. Here, for the unitiated, is the scale on which Beany books are rated:
Does Beany get herself in trouble out of ridiculous stubborness? (Yes!)
Is there a blah dress that can only be rescued by the amethyst brooch? (Yes!)
Does someone mutter, “Life is real and life is earnest”? (I think so. Not sure.)
Is there some small sweet detail you can’t help ridiculing? (Yes! The fact that Carlton, Beany’s fiance, says “Brakes” whenever they get too frisky.)
Car trouble? A frequent motif in the work of Lenora Mattingly Weber, I’m not sure it’s important to Tarry Awhile.
Does Mary Fred Malone make use of her psychology degree by psychoanlyzing someone? (Yes! In this case, Dulcie Lungaarde Trighorn, the former carhop who can’t help harping on the fact that Beany hasn’t dragged her man to the altar yet.)
Is there an almost pornish description of an outfit? (Yes! The “peignor set” called “Enchanted Evening.” Bonus points for the imitation leopard coat at the Salvation Army.)
Does Mary Fred make meat loaf? (Can’t remember.)
Does Johnny Malone make Lady Baltimore cake or say, “Oh my sainted aunt!” (Can’t remember.)
Yes, TA is up there, although I think the quintessential Malone work is “Beany Has a Secret Life,” with “A Bright Star Falls” being a close second.
Zelda, lately I have been giving a lot of thought to Andy Kern and his decision to become a priest and I confess, I’m worried that there might be some subtext. But it’s got to be about his sister’s death. Right? Right? I mean, the fact that he always “keeps it light” with his girlfriends doesn’t mean anything. Right?
(These books span the World War II years and continue into the early 1970s and I love them beyond all reason.)
My memory may be faulty since it’s been serveral (translation over 20) years since I’ve read the book – but wasn’t the male lead character in A Confederacy of Dunces an example of someone who’s size is integral to the book? If my memory serves me right he was a larger man which was important.
In P.J. Tracy’s series, one of the members of the Monkeewrench software company development team is a woman named Annie, who is north of two hundred pounds (one of the police detectives says, “We’re in Minnesota. Most of the women are over two bills.”). Every man that meets her notices and comments on her undeniable sexual magnetism.
Judy Carrier, one of Lisa Scottoline’s attorneys, is said to be more than six feet tall and a very athletic native Californian. I’m pretty sure the Giant Sequoia is mentioned at least once in her description. Bennie Rosato, the senior partner in the law firm, is a rower like Tess, so her muscle mass is no doubt considerable.
The height of Karin Slaughter’s Sara Linton is often mentioned. Men are startled to find themselves looking her eye-to-eye.
Sean, my mental picture of Eve Muhly is definitely solid and curvy, but probably SHORTER than average, because the school counselor calls her “a scale model of voluptousness”.
Ignatius! How I love Ignatius, with his love of hot dogs, his malingering (my valve, my valve) and his habit of writing in Big Chief tablets.
But — important but — I don’t think Ignatius (Confederacy of Dunces) is an admirable character. In fact, even his socialist girlfriend doesn’t hold up on re-reading. HIs size is part of him, but he tilts toward the Augustus Gloop end of the scale. Without the whole-going-up-in-a-tube thing.
Diane — Zappos.com is your friend.
Beth (also a 10 1/2, and still trying to remember who wrote the “Blue” series I’m thinking of)
Rita Formica, the star of a trilogy of books by Barbara Wersba that began with FAT: A LOVE STORY. I loved loved loved these books as they spoke to my overweight younger self who also wanted a dreamy, older literary nerd for a boyfriend, though in hindsight I don’t know if the books really hold up.
I believe his name is St. Julien Perlemutter, the Naval historian in Clive Cussler’s Dirk Pitt series. Not a detective, but he is fictional and involved in suspense novels.
Sarah,
That’s a new one for me.
I’ve been sitting here brooding about the fact that Betsy Ray, my literary role model, was extremely slender. But it was curvy Irma who was portrayed as the most desirable girl in school.
There is a tendency toward waifishness — Betsy Ray, Anne of Green Gables. Even Beany Malone had a 22-inch waist! (A fact of which I was reminded recently because I re-read “Tarry Awhile,” in which she’s measured for a bridesmaid’s dress.) I guess pounds just can’t find a place to rest on their boyish figures. Sigh.
I can’t think of any literary examples, but the woman at a lunch place on Wall Street who recently made the counterman flutter a hand over his heart and fake a swoon, and the rest of us trade glances in agreement, was decidedly plus-sized.
Well, Laura is as “round and stout as a little French horse.”
I think Sister Carrie is pretty big. Dreiser liked big girls!
Tess of the D’Ubervilles has round arms. She dies though. Not of roundness.
There are some Gibson girls in early F.S. Fitzgerald too….
The Color Purple has some big girls. I will keep thinkin’.
I’m especially interested in examples of guys in novels whose weight is central to the story or the character’s identity? There was one YA book called My Fat Summer or One Fat Summer . . .
There’s a fat boy in “Little Men.” He’s not nice.
There’s Piggy in “Lord of the Flies.” Things do not go well for him.
There’s Augustus Gloop. Ditto.
Oh, and there was the boy in DuBois’s series on the seven vices, the glutton who becomes an accidentally great goalie — he fills up the goal — and then slims down. Anyone remember that book?
Oh yeah, and Blubber and Nothing’s Fair in Fifth Grade.
What first came to mind was Dorothy Parker’s short story, Big Blonde. But was she really big? I don’t remember.
There’s plump Bess in the Nancy Drew books.
Big men/boys. Hmmmm.
Falstaff.
Chet, from the Hardy Boys series. He was the guy most of us who would never be as handsome as Frank, Joe, Biff or Tony could relate to.
And maybe I missed something, but my mental vision of Eve Muhly was that of a solid, taller-than-average, curvy farm girl.
As someone who’s 6’0″ and never been a size 12, I can tell you a whole lot of “big” characters from crime fiction, as they stand out to me. FIrst two to come to mind are Big Cyndi from the Myron Bolitar series, and Eva Wylie from Liza Cody’s series. They are the two that stick out in my mind as “big” rather than “tall.” I can name a handful of 6-foot-tall women characters, but they are mostly model-thin. Carol O’Connell’s Mallory, Carlotta Carlisle (I hope I’m remembering that right), Julie Smith’s Skip Langdon, and I think the character from the “Blue” series (was that Lia Matera? woman lived in desert in an old hotel, 3 books… darn brain fart), Claire Matturro’s Lilly Cleary. The male writer who wrote lovingly about women of all sizes that comes to my mind was John D. MacDonald. I can remember some descriptions of women in his books that made it clear that the woman was not a size four, and she was very attractive. The language may have been somewhat dated, but the appreciation of various sized women was apparent to me.
Somewhat related rant: I remember reading a book that I enjoyed very much that had a plot point revolving around a culture that valued large women. It was partly set in the Bahamas, I think. The main character got appreciation for her “voluptuousness” and “roundness” and her “athletic figure” — at the same time that her friend criticized her eating habits and lack of self-control in eating a roll with dinner. It was a main plot point that this woman was not *small*, okay? In the course of the dinner, it came out that the woman was bemoaning not fitting into her size 8 clothes any more, and now had to buy size 10s. I threw the book across the room. Grrrr, I still get irate when I think about that scene in the book and its body image message.
I had to go read 5 Selma Eichler books in a row to combat my disgust. Desiree Shapiro’s attitude is much closer to the large women I know and like…
Laura, I have to chuckle at your invocation of Betsy Ray in this context. This very morning in a listserv discussion, I proposed the Deep Valley Diet and Exercise Plan under the auspices of which we would eat tons of delicious food (preferably cooked by Anna) and walk/dance/skate (those with weak ankles excused from the latter, of course) our way to droopy thinness. Actually, come to think of it, the Betsy/Irma comparison that you note is paralleled in the Anne books with Anne being very slender but the plump, dimpled Diana being the personification of beauty (though Diana does begin to envy Anne’s slimness when they get older). All of these characters seem to relish their food though, which is something to hold on to, waifishness notwithstanding.
A size 12 woman is not a big girl. (Well, maybe if you’re 5 foot it’s kinda big.) It’s just normal… And I always assumed Tess was kinda normal, although probably in a little better shape than most of us due to her rowing.
I think with the guys, it’s probably a little more important to be rough and tough, since they’re expected to break heads and whatnot.
But what do I know… Every piece of clothing I own reminds me that I’m “extra-large.”
We had a fun thread on the Beany list a few years ago in which we did some editing of the texts. The only one I remember is in Tarry Awhile when Beany and Carl are dancing after hours at Lilac Way. He whispers “Brakes” and she replies “Oh no Carl, we don’t have to put on the brakes, look what I got at Downey’s Drugs today!”
Yes, there is car trouble in Tarry Awhile, Kay and Joe barely make it into town because of car problems!
I’m SURE that Andy was always thinking about the priesthood and that it was Rosellen’s death that made up his mind!
Peanut Chews-yum.
Giving women’s sizes numbers has to be one of the crueler things ever inflicted on women.
Men’s dress shirts, for example, are sized according to the neck and sleeve (e.g., 17″, 35″). Who the hell knows what that means in relation to anyone else? You just know what size you wear.
But if you told me that I was a size 18 — and that some model was a size 0! — I’d know where I stood by comparison (probably blotting out the Sun).
David,
Thanks for that injection of sanity. A size 12 is, in fact, below the median size for American women, last I checked. But with size 0 and size 2 presented as desirable, it’s hard to lose sight of that.
I’m a size 12 and find it’s the first to go in almost any clothing store I shop in. Also, please advise on the whole “00″ sizing, which I find bizarre beyond the extreme.