Looking over Collins' dizzying panorama, it's hard to believe women moved so far so fast, and still remain so far from full equality. I talked to Collins about why she thought she started the book the same year the terrific writers of "Mad Men" began their series. Short answer: the pill. Longer answer: Well, watch it.

We talked about how rare it is to see the struggles, and different priorities, of black, working-class and other non-white women depicted in a mainstream book on the women's movement:

I asked whether Collins felt like history was repeating itself in the 2008 Clinton vs. Obama Democratic Primary, in terms of feminists fighting with advocates of racial equality over who got to go first, black men or (mostly white) women:

Finally, in the lightning round: Is Sarah Palin a feminist? Which was more influential, "The Feminine Mystique" or "Sex and the Single Girl"? The biggest feminist legislative defeat: ERA or Comprehensive Child Development Act? And why Billie Jean King is an underappreciated feminist hero:

All right, I'll officially say that's a good thing. And now Sady Doyle, occasional Broadsheet contributor and blogmistress of the fabulously named Tiger Beatdown, has gone and given me yet another feminist angle on "Twilight" to consider. ("Twilight" is officially the new Sarah Palin: I hate everything it stands for, but since so much of the reaction to it is sexist, I keep feeling compelled to defend it. Sigh.)

Doyle admits to a fondness for Robert Pattinson, who plays vampire Edward Cullen in the series, although she does not admit it's partly because he's hot. Other than that, she covers the reasons why I, too, am fond of the surprisingly candid and self-aware young star -- "Robert Pattinson talks shit about the projects he is in. Robert Pattinson is honest about the fact that he is not the best actor" -- with a bonus articulation of something I'd never considered: "And Robert Pattinson's main source of employment is facilitating his own objectification, which he does, but also complains about all the time. Robert Pattinson is... Megan Fox, basically!

That Fox/Pattz comparison is so apt, Sady's not even the only ladyblogger in my Google reader who made it today. And the difference in our reaction to each of those actors' being subjected to an audience's lustful gaze says a lot about who's meant to be looked at and who's meant to be listened to in this culture. "People outside the superfan matrix don't tend to have strong feelings about The Pattz," she writes, "but they do tend to get all squirmy and giggly and uncomfortable with the way that so many women relate to his filmed image (for example, by screen-printing it on their underpants) and/or his person." All that raw, ridiculous, pointless lust is just so unseemly. And when The Pattz speaks in interviews about how strange and oppressive it is to be the object of a million fangirl fantasies, or how awful his character is ("the more I read the script, the more I hated this guy"), those of us outside the superfan matrix like him more for it. That poor guy! He can't go anywhere! People expect him to be something he's not, just because he's good-looking and plays such a one-dimensional character, desperate people can project whatever they want onto him. Isn't that sad? But that whiny, stupid Fox girl, on the other hand -- where does she get off complaining about getting paid to look hot? "We have no problem with objectifying Megan Fox," says Doyle. "We just have a problem with everything she says, and specifically the things she says wherein she takes issue with being objectified. We just hate her."

Much like we hate those women buying Edward Cullen underpants (among other products) and making Robert Pattinson's life difficult. "Because those women are acting in a way that is typically reserved for men. And they're treating Pattinson like a girl." The objectification of women in pop culture, writes Doyle, is both so common as to go unnoticed and inevitably "tacky as all hell, aesthetically."

[A]nd so criticizing it, in an aesthetic way, seems pointless. Congratulations, you went looking for art in a product intended to provide boners and came up empty. Surprise! But when girls do the exact same thing -- when they prove themselves capable of the exact same sort of objectification, and the exact same goofiness or tackiness or unrealistic fantasy in the name of getting off -- well, it freaks people out. It's weird. Why are they acting like this? Don't they know that Robert Pattinson is a person? Why are they treating him like a big chunk of meat? Why doesn't Edward Cullen act like a real guy would? Etcetera!

Let me be clear: I think those are all perfectly reasonable questions. It's just that I think they're perfectly reasonable questions to ask about the objectification of Megan Fox, and every other Action Movie Girlfriend in history, as well. Treating a man just as poorly as women have long been treated in films made for young male audiences is not the kind of gender equality that gives me hope for the future. But thinking critically about why folks become so offended when they see that happening might, in fact, lead to a bit of progress. Why is it so unsettling to see a young male actor dehumanized, but not his female counterpart? Why do we sympathize with a man saying it's hard to be nothing but a pretty face, but vilify a woman who says it? Whether or not you can answer those questions, if you can at least spot the difference, you are obliged to do one of two things. In Doyle's words: "Be less weirded out by the fact that ladies are getting all freaky about Robert Pattinson. Or be MORE weirded out by the dudes getting all het up about various lady movie stars."

For now, I'd recommend both. Ultimately, I'd love to see more movies made for all audiences that go beyond a cheap appeal to our basest fantasies; recognizing and resisting objectification of anyone in pop culture is a goal dear to my heart. But it would also be nice if, in the meantime, people recognized that women and teenaged girls have our own base fantasies, and quit acting like it's headline news that we have real human libidos, which are sometimes activated by pretty young things who stand around doing very little in blockbuster movies. Just as surely as "New Moon" has proven that catering to a female audience can be as lucrative as catering to young men, it's proven that one-dimensional sex objects can sell to lady audiences as well. So, while it may not get beyond one obnoxious stereotype of female desire -- violent, overprotective dudes get us hot! -- at least it busts the myth that there's no such thing.

In fact, the advance sales have been so overwhelming that MovieTickets.com and Summit Entertainment, the studio behind the film, stopped reporting sales data earlier this week, for fear of losing customers who assume there's no point in even trying to get into a showing of "New Moon" this weekend. Says NYT ArtsBeat blog, "It could dent the opening-weekend gross if consumers mistakenly think that no tickets are available. At a certain point, average moviegoers might skip the multiplex altogether if they think 'Twilight' hoopla has grown too insane."

I hate to break it to nervous studio execs, but that ship has sailed. "Twilight" hoopla has been bonkers for years, and the "New Moon"-specific hoopla is really only noteworthy for being even more so. The L.A. Times article notes that "more than a week before its release, the film sold more than four times as many tickets as the original 'Twilight' at MovieTickets.com at the same point in the sales cycle." And it's not just teenage girls driving the frenzy; MovieTickets.com's latest data said 27 percent of the buyers were women between 25 and 34 -- the slightly embarrassed but no less addicted demographic Sarah Hepola reported on for Salon earlier this week.

Another 35 percent are women under 25, though, and altogether, 87 percent of advance ticket holders are female. That's no surprise, but a majority-female audience breaking sales records left and right certainly is. "Let's just think about that," wrote Melissa Silverstein at her blog Women & Hollywood last week. "A franchise fueled by girls and women has the potential of beating the machines for the box office record. This movie could potentially be 'guy proof' meaning they won't need guys to see it for it to kick some box office butt. Whereas the other franchises NEED women to make their numbers."

Having seen the first movie and read the first two books before officially determining that neither the lols nor the thought of blogging furiously about the wildly popular series' gender messages held my interest enough to continue, I never imagined I'd find a reason to see the "Twilight" phenomenon as a potential triumph for women. In the books, at least -- far more than in the first movie -- heroine Bella is spineless and infantilized, while dreamboat vamp Edward is stalky and emotionally abusive. The thought of the effect those characterizations might have on young girls who see it as a depiction of "true love" pained me. But Silverstein makes a great point: What about the effect the "Twilight" saga's success might have on Hollywood's confidence in female-oriented films?

"New Moon finally give us an apple to apples comparison with other types of fan-driven films," she told me in an e-mail. "The biggest films in Hollywood are the ones that come out of comic books, toys and books. Starting last year with 'Sex and the City,' 'Mamma Mia' (and both those can be dismissed because the targeted audience was older), but now with the two 'Twilight' films, it shows that female filmgoers can be as rabid in their fandom as male." The question is, will the powers that be recognize young women as a robust market that's been largely ignored and condescended to, or will they write it off as a limited phenomenon? "Studios should look at this as a golden opportunity and not a fluke!" writes Silverstein. But tapping into the passions of young female audiences means "working to try and uncover things that are bubbling in fandom and even trying to come up with exciting ideas to engage the audience," not just waiting around for the next runaway bestseller.

It might also mean sticking with what works, especially when it's a female director who's demonstrated a knack for understanding teenage girls. Unfortunately, Catherine Hardwicke, director of "Twilight," was replaced by Chris Weitz for the second installment, despite the first film's having grossed $383.6 million worldwide -- and the series seems to have suffered for it artistically, if not financially. Salon's Stephanie Zacharek enjoyed Hardwicke's movie as an "unapologetic, unembarrassed foray into teen-heartthrob territory, hitting the sweet spot where pop culture, teenage curiosity about sex, and vampire lore meet," but says Weitz's "offers few of the juicy, go-for-broke romantic pleasures of its predecessor." 

Zacharek's not alone in her disappointment. Granted, popular teen-oriented franchises hardly need critical acclaim to succeed, and the first film only earned 49 percent positive reviews at Rotten Tomatoes -- but contrast that with the 30 percent rating "New Moon" has. Positive word of mouth may be no more than the icing on the cake for such a big movie, but it's nevertheless likely to be absent this time, even though Weitz had far more money and momentum going into the project. Says Silverstein, who saw an advance screening, "I think they really miscalculated in not keeping Hardwicke. The budget for this film was $50 million up from I believe $39 for the first one and one of the things that the studio and Hardwicke were fighting about was budget. She really seems to know how to tap into the teen spirit and that was missed here. She just knows how to elicit emotions from young people. It's her thing, and that's what worked best in the first movie and worst in this movie."

So even if the studios do learn something about the power of female audiences from the "Twilight" saga, they seem to have ignored any lessons the first film offered about the capabilities of a female director. Nevertheless, Silverstein is optimistic about "New Moon's" potential to improve women's lot in Hollywood across the board -- as long as executives recognize its tremendous appeal as more than a fluke. "Hopefully, this success will infiltrate the minds of Hollywood number crunchers and seek out products for the female audience," she says. "If people start thinking and making more movies that star women and are women driven, it can only help women at all levels of the business." 

Turns out lots of things are feminist about "discriminating a photo shoot," although not all feminists will agree on all of the reasons, or even think of the same ones off the top of their heads! Actual Feminist Amanda Marcotte, for instance, makes this point:

The idea behind the "porn is empowering!" argument is that women who work in porn gain power in a pragmatic way, playing by men's rules, and feminists should support this for pragmatic reasons, because at the end of the day, women have more real power. And that would be a legitimate argument if the women involved had more power at the end of the day. But what power do they have, exactly? Joanna Krupa cites the big paychecks you get for nude modeling in Playboy, but since those paychecks stop coming when you're a hag of 23 or so (or possibly younger), then it's a false form of power.

See, the underlying principle of feminism is equality. As things stand here in the country that produces Playboy, women and men are not equal. Men, for instance, are favored for all sorts of powerful, high-paying jobs, and often respected more as they get older and better at those jobs. Women, on the other hand, can sometimes make a bunch of money by taking off all their clothes when they're young and most attractive to a large number of heterosexual men, but then they are less respected in that profession as they get older, no matter how much valuable information they've learned about posing naked by that point. Do you see the difference?

Also, as Actual Feminist Samhita Mukhopadhyay notes, many women are excluded from that limited-time-only opportunity in the first place, on grounds that their bodies are insufficiently pleasing even when young!

Feminists have opposing view points on pornography and other forms of erotic art, that is not a new story, but suggesting that feminists don't get how "empowering" it is to fit into society's standards of able-bodied, white, cis-gendered, thinness, well let's just say we totally get that. I am not saying the act isn't empowering for her, like she said, I wasn't there, but the process that empowers her is embedded in a really specific idea of what a woman should look like and the kind of woman that "turns men on." It is not the function of turning men on that is the sexist part to me, but the unrealistic expectation put on women through the production and proliferation of images like Krupa's and the corresponding value put on women's bodies through this very same process.

So, to recap: The vast majority of women are never considered sufficiently wankworthy to earn money for taking their clothes off, and those who are can only hold that distinction until they begin to age visibly, at which point they join the unsexy masses. Making matters worse, as Marcotte mentions, women who have at some point bared it all for money are taken less seriously when, inevitably, their no longer marketable bodies force them to seek a new means of making a living. Thus, many Actual Feminists conclude that being photographed naked is not, in fact, a job that moves women as a group closer to equality with men in terms of employment and earning opportunities. Instead, it is one that reinforces the distinctly unfeminist and demonstrably false idea that the commodification of certain young women's sexuality is a form of real power. See?

And I haven't even touched on the radical feminist arguments against porn -- you don't even need them to understand why a feminist would discriminate a photo shoot! I hope this helps you understand, Joanna Krupa, why we "self-important, so-called 'feminists'" don't see your paycheck and creative input into your own nudie photos as a win for women. If you need any other questions about feminism answered, you know where to find me. 

And of course there was a Twitter hashtag (#fembooks) for those who wanted to express their displeasure in real time. Tweeters pointed out that women buy the majority of books sold in the U.S. and usually make up about half of the authors on any given New York Times Bestseller list. Others complained that classic novels by men get trumpeted as "must reads" while those by women are often pooh-poohed by male readers as "not to my taste." Charlotte Abbott, a literary journalist, floated the idea of an American version of Britain's Orange Prize, which goes to the author of the year's "best full-length novel in English." (American novelists are eligible for the Orange Prize; Marilynne Robinson won it last year for "Home.") That suggestion was greeted with a mixture of enthusiasm and worries about "ghettoization."

What's at issue isn't sales or even access to readers; this is an argument about prestige and critical recognition, an argument best articulated by the novelist and critic Francine Prose in a 1998 article for Harper's magazine. Prose detected a greater reverence for books by men among the nation's literary and critical establishment, which includes reviewers, prize committees and the institutions that bestow grants. She blamed this on a widespread if seldom-stated assumption that "women writers will not write about anything important -- anything truly serious or necessary, revelatory or wise."

Explaining P.W.'s list, editor Louisa Ermelino wrote, "We wanted [it] to reflect what we thought were the top 10 books of the year with no other consideration ... We ignored gender and genre and who had the buzz. We gave fair chance to the 'big' books of the year, but made them stand on their own two feet. It disturbed us when we were done that our list was all male." Yet, according to Miami Herald blogger Connie Ogle, Ermelino sounded less apologetic when quoted in a press release, characterizing the list as not "the most politically correct."

Anyone who's ever had to compile such a list -- and admittedly, there aren't many of us -- will feel an awkward sympathy for the P.W. team. Two years ago, while settling on Salon's picks for the year's best works of fiction, we wound up with five novels by men. This dilemma precipitated a lot of soul-searching, only partially soothed by the reminder that most years the majority of the books on our fiction list are by women authors. Should we swap out one of the titles by a man for another we liked less, simply because it was by a woman? The WILLA wiki implies that the editors of P.W. simply didn't bother to read books by Lorrie Moore, Margaret Atwood or Alice Munro when selecting their list, but that's highly unlikely. Chances are that they (like me) didn't think the Lorrie Moore novel and many others posted to the wiki were up to snuff. Something similar happened at Salon when it came to the fiction of 2007. In the end, unable to find books by women that we liked better than those five novels, we opted for honesty, which we consider the critic's first responsibility.

Without tipping our hand, I'll merely say that it's unlikely Salon will suffer the drubbing P.W. has endured when we run our own 10-best list in early December. But every year we do face a ticklish question: Is it the right thing to gerrymander your list in order to counteract real, long-standing cultural biases, even if that means lying to your readers? What is a 10-best list, after all, if not a record of the books we enjoyed most over the past 12 months? If you insist on a list that's ideally representative of gender, race, class, nationality (i.e., including at least one translation), publisher size (small as well as large), fame, length (short story collections as well as novels), region, genre and so on, you can easily wind up with, say, a list of nine books you kinda like and maybe one you truly love. That's a tepid dish to serve up to readers, and not likely to inspire much enthusiasm, either.

On the other hand, few things are more subjective than judgments about how "great" any given book is. Those real, long-standing cultural biases mentioned above live in the heart of every critic to one degree or another, and we'd be shirking our duty if we didn't try to account for them. Writing off such qualms as mere "political correctness" is, in its own way, just as dishonest as exaggerating your admiration for a book simply because its author is female, or dark-skinned, or from a far-off nation. I don't doubt that P.W.'s editors are entirely sincere when they say their list reflects their unvarnished preferences. Still, the fact that those preferences can't encompass one woman author among 10 books (fiction or nonfiction) picked from the 50,000-plus titles they claim to have sifted through suggests that their horizons might need a bit of deliberate widening.

Fortunately, most years bring enough good books that we're able to choose from a fairly diverse array of candidates. If we adore two novels (or histories, or biographies) to about the same degree, we do take factors like an author's gender or the size of the book's publisher into account -- the same way we try to maintain a mix of literary tones and moods, from the slim, intensely personal memoir to the majestic and well-footnoted doorstop. The key question remains, is the quality of our final list diminished by those decisions, or enriched by them? We like to think that, like us, most readers appreciate some variety in their literary diets.