Kate Moses

Time for One Thing: A Cosmopolitan

A cocktail recipe to soothe a mother's nerves.

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sometimes a cocktail is what you really need. Even so, there is a right
way and a wrong way to have a drink, as self-satisfied TV beer advertisers
are forever cautioning us.

Among the many wrong ways is that taken by the delicately beautiful Lee
Remick, as she buckles under to the drunken, sour whining of Jack Lemmon in
1962′s Academy Award-winning “Days of Wine and Roses.” As Joe Clay, a
rising San Francisco public relations flak embittered by the hidden cost of
his job involving procuring dates for his leering clients — something he refers to as “a little matter of personal
integrity” — Lemmon
staggers loudly home after a 16-hour day and as many highballs. Singing to
their sleeping baby while waiting up for Joe is his young wife, Kirsten,
played by Remick — blonde, pure, fine boned, her face like a petal.
Shushed gently by Kirsten at the door to the nursery, Joe explodes,
attacking Kirsten for not being fun any more and for refusing to drink with
him. Who could forget Lee Remick’s anguished whisper, “You know I’m not
supposed to, on account of my milk,” while clutching her breasts through
her flowered nightie? (“You’re gonna ruin your shape!” Joe petulantly
gripes.) Later, after Joe sobs his apology into her lap, Kirsten resignedly
pours herself a drink. The next time we see Kirsten, she’s slumped in front
of the TV, watching cartoons during naptime with a glass in one hand and a
lit cigarette in the other.

But one drink needn’t lead to burning down the apartment and abandoning
your child. In fact, in some cases, one drink might prevent it.

Our nomination for the perfect warm-weather cocktail is the
Cosmopolitan. Born in San Francisco and considered a sort of grown-up’s
Kamikaze, the Cosmo is tart and cool, blush colored and easy to drink, as
its flavor is derived mostly from cranberry juice and lime. Served in a
chilled, stemmed martini glass, a Cosmopolitan sipped before dinner can
make you feel just a little more like an adult. If you can manage to sit
down with another adult while enjoying your drinks together, all the
better, but Cosmos have been known to work their not particularly subtle
magic even with “Sesame Street” blaring and full grocery bags lining the
kitchen counters as atmosphere.

The “official” recipe for a Cosmopolitan differs depending on who you
ask. Use the recipe below, from Salon’s ever-attentive-to-maternal-needs
Surreal Gourmet, as a rule of thumb, varying amounts according to taste.
Mothers Who Drink favors a bit less lime and suggests Triple Sec as a less
expensive alternative to Cointreau. However you shake it, though, the right
glass seems a necessary part of the ritual.

The Surreal Gourmet’s Cosmopolitan

1 and 1/2 ounce vodka

1/2 ounce Cointreau

Juice of 1 lime

Splash of cranberry juice

Optional: sliced lime or orange peel for garnish

Shake all ingredients together with ice until well chilled. Strain and
pour into a martini glass. Garnish with an orange twist.

A man's work is never done

An interview with Arlie Hochschild, author of The Time Bind.

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arlie Hochschild is a sociologist at the University of California’s Berkeley campus and the author of “The Time Bind.” Salon spoke with her recently.

The New York Times review of “The Time Bind” observed that your “calm, understanding tone” tended to disguise your book’s
alarming message. Were you alarmed by your findings about work and home?

Let me put it this way. I felt that there was something going on that
we haven’t clearly understood. I think the book itself is a story book.
There are a lot of different personal stories, and all of these are about
parents really trying to strike a balance. These are involved
parents. One single father described himself going to work and said it’s
just like a caffeine high, going from one meeting to the next until it got to be 5 o’clock, and finally he could sit down to his
real work. But it meant he couldn’t pick up his child until 6 or 6:30.
He said he felt like he wasn’t living his values. He moved me
tremendously; here was a good man and a good father, but he was caught in an imbalanced
life.

I guess I am a little bit worried, but not in the way the media has framed it. There was a horrible article on the cover of
U.S. News & World Report. That really threw
me back. I wrote a letter of protest to the editor. It introduced a very
accusatory tone. I felt it was a women-bashing tone.

Are you concerned that
your book is being interpreted as part of the backlash against feminism? Is there an implicit message that women should go home?

Am I concerned that it could be used that way? Yes. Is that what it
is? No, absolutely not. I see it as a call for an open, gentle, respectful, public conversation about what
steps we need to take to get a family-friendly workplace, more like they have in Sweden or
Norway — a 35-hour work week, work-sharing and so on. Motorola has done that in Arizona. In a way, this is crashingly
moderate. I am simply saying, look, knock two hours off on a Wednesday.
It would make it so much better for family life. That would be huge. Why not? Why can’t
we have that?

The “news” in “Time Bind,” as the New York Times put it, “is that growing numbers of
working women are leery of spending time at home.” Does this message, that more women are abandoning the home for work, let men off the hook?
Should we be more pointed in saying that men need to be more
responsible for the domestic maintenance of a family?

Yes, we do need to be more pointed about that. I think that is
exactly the direction that the conversation needs to take and actually
surveys show that children report that they want more time with their
fathers a lot more than they report that they want more time with their
mothers. Something like two-thirds
of kids say that they’d like more time with their fathers, and half of
them say they want more time with their mothers.
Let’s shape this article that way. Write about men. It really is true.

Do you think your book could have been more direct in pointing out men’s domestic responsibilities?

Yes, I think I could have.

Why didn’t you?

I wanted to end up with a non-gendered book. In a way this whole
family-friendly project is informally coded as a women’s project.
I wanted to de-gender it. Why I didn’t single out men is because I did
that in volume one of this study. “The Second Shift” is really all
pointed at men. Maybe I should have pointed at men twice, but in this
one … I could have probably made more of the men thing.

The time bind is in fact more a
man’s issue than a woman’s, because men have subtracted more time from
the home than women have but women are the ones who feel it.
They are expected to protect the home more. But all of us, men and women, have
to get ourselves out of what I call a “talk bind.” We can’t talk about
this without being guilt-tripped.

I think we really have to establish a safe, public place to
talk about this honestly. I would ask right-wing guilt-trippers to lay
off and detoxify this conversation, because it is an important one to
have in a safe, exploratory, non-guilt-trippy way. We are not alone in this.
It is a cultural issue.

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Honey, I shrunk the family

Are men to blame for the disappearance of home life?

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“isn’t it odd,” sociologist Stephanie Coontz observes sarcastically in her new book, “The Way We Really Are,” “how quickly a discussion of working parents becomes an indictment of Mommy?” That indictment seemed apparent in U.S. News and World Report’s May 12 cover story, which blared, “Lies Parents Tell Themselves About Why They Work” accusingly from the newsstand. “When men (especially male politicians) talk about ‘working parents’ they really mean ‘working women,’” the newsweekly averred — and then proceeded to do exactly what it accused the politicians of doing.

Opening with a hapless 29-year-old professional woman’s feeble defense of why she left her 10-week-old baby in day care while she worked — “It’s not the amount of time I spend with my daughter, but the quality of time … Or maybe that’s just me rationalizing” — the article went on to enumerate five “lies” that parents tell themselves about why they’re working. Of these, the first and most important “lie” — “we both work because we need the money” — was clearly aimed at yuppie moms. Pointing out that wealthier families are as likely to have both parents working as poorer ones, the article argued that such families don’t really need the money. The real villain of the piece, lurking backstage, was the upper-middle-class mother who dumps her young kids in child care so she can buy a swimming pool.

Both the U.S. News article and Newsweek’s simultaneous cover story, “The Myth of Quality Time,” drew heavily on Arlie Russell Hochschild’s much-talked-about new book, “The Time Bind.” Hochschild’s book presents a simple, startling thesis: For many Americans, including women, home is becoming work, a place to escape from, and work is becoming home, a seductive and stimulating environment. At the pseudonymous “Amerco,” a Midwestern Fortune-500 company profiled by Hochschild, an entire program of “family-friendly” policies had been instituted to encourage their employees to carve out more family time, and yet the program attracted shockingly few takers. Only 53 of 21,070 employees opted for part-time work; a total of two men took paternity leave. Even the most popular program, flextime, attracted only a third of working parents.

The reasons why were various and mostly predictable: peer pressure, bottlenecking supervisors, financial need, fear of being labeled “uncommitted to the company.” The surprise, though, was that women were just as likely as men to pass up “family-friendly” policies in order to keep working Amerco’s long (an average of 47 hours per week) hours.

Stephanie Coontz doesn’t see anything wrong with this. In “The Way We Really Are,” a statistics-drenched analysis that defends American families against the doomsaying of “family values” propagandists, she argues that women who work do better than those who don’t — and that their children, by and large, don’t suffer, either. She cites studies showing that women who work are “consistently healthier, less depressed, and less frustrated than women who do not,” and says that a woman’s satisfaction with her role, whether as worker, homemaker or spouse, “is one of the best predictors both of a good relationship with her child and of the child’s own well-being.”

Not surprisingly, Coontz takes exception to the way the media is spinning the time-crunch issue. “These cover stories, particularly the U.S. News & World Report one,” she says, “are aimed right at the hearts of working women and implicitly endorse a stop-gap, short-term solution that is not family-friendly, one that will not help kids. That is the notion that women should quit work for a few years after childbirth.” Although sales of her book are undoubtedly profiting by the hoopla, Hochschild also decries the newsweeklies’ alarmist tone: “I guess I am a little bit worried … That (article) really threw me back. I wrote a letter of protest to the editor. It introduced a very accusatory tone. I felt it was a woman-bashing tone.”

In separate interviews, both Hochschild and Coontz point the finger of blame not at mommies, but at daddies. They argue that American men have made a career out of escaping from home for decades, and nobody has raised an eyebrow. Male flight not only allows men to indulge their morbid fear of housework, it places them in an environment where they are paid for their time, respected and recognized. Child-rearing and housework, on the other hand, are supposed to be their own rewards. For many women they are, but it shouldn’t be surprising that women find the workplace as attractive as men do — particularly when men aren’t carrying their weight at home. In Hochschild’s earlier book, “The Second Shift,” which studied two-job families, she found that regardless of how many hours they work outside the home, women are forced to do most of the housework and child rearing; men simply don’t do their share. According to a new book, “Time for Life,” cited by Newsweek, men spend only 17.4 hours per week on housework, while women spend 35.1. (And men only put in seven more hours per week on the job — no help, there, guys.) Granted, many men are far more involved in their children’s lives than were, for example, their own fathers, but that doesn’t excuse them from doing the laundry every other week.

Neither does touting “family-friendly” policies excuse employers from implementing them in a practical way. Amerco was ultimately unsuccessful in attaining more flexibility for its workers because it failed to clear the roadblocks — uncooperative middle managers, corporate “evil eyes,” sexist “mommy track” assumptions — that prevented employees at every level from utilizing the programs the company had gone to great expense to develop. Both Coontz and Hochschild point out that women have entered a work culture that was created by men without regard to family needs. “Family-friendly benefits like flextime are mostly cosmetic,” Coontz says, “and most workers know they are.”

Both Hochschild and Coontz have concrete suggestions to improve the lot of working families. These include creating alternative work and school schedules, giving tax incentives for businesses and implementing federally regulated and mandated family benefits, the most important of which is high quality, affordable child care. Hochschild calls for a national dialogue about work and family, but clearly what she is really asking for is that men acknowledge their unequal share of power and relinquish it — something less likely to happen in an overt way.

In analyzing who’s to blame for the time-crunch predicament, no doubt Coontz and Hochschild are right to shift the emphasis from the evil yuppie mom — that venerable figure of cultural abuse — to the housework-avoiding dad. But in the end, the blame may rest less with either dads or moms than with the inexorable, seductive logic of America’s late-capitalist commodity culture, which is increasingly making family life into an image of itself: high-speed, compartmentalized and rational. And the real issue is how this squeezed family life (Hochschild calls kids “time squatters”) is going to affect children in the future. Despite the studies that Coontz cites in her book, which show that the children of mothers who work outside the home and the children of mothers who don’t fare pretty much the same, it’s hard not to believe that a childhood’s worth of nine-hour days at preschool, or having an hour or two of earnestly believed-in “quality time” with one’s parents before everyone collapses into bed, or shuttling between four different baby-sitters while the parents work back-to-back shifts, or coming home to the glow of TV and an eerily shadowed house every day after junior high, is going to affect a child’s life. As comforting as it is to know that your kid isn’t going to be any worse off than the kid of the housewife down the street, is that really all our children should be permitted to expect?

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The Third Lie

Kate Moses reviews Agota Kristof's novel "The Third Lie".

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“The Third Lie” completes Hungarian-born Kristof’s trilogy of strange, bleak novels, each more stark and depressing than the last. “I am in prison in the small town of my childhood,” the narrator, Claus T., tells us in the first sentence, thus illuminating the cryptic, final pages of Kristof’s last book, “The Proof.” In that novel, the 50-year-old Claus returned to the unnamed European country of his youth in search of his twin brother Lucas, of whom no records exist.

Jailed for allowing his visa to expire, Claus awaits his escort back across the border and muses on his past: a mysterious malady that kept him hospitalized and separated from his family for most of his boyhood; the brutality of the war years spent living with a foul harridan of a grandmother; and his grief over the absence of his brother, who disappeared without a trace after crossing the border into the neighboring country at the age of 15. What strikes the reader like a blow to the head is Claus’ confession that “All this is a lie. . . . I only fantasized there were two of us, me and my brother, in order to endure the unbearable solitude.” “Claus,” it seems, is really Lucas, and more confusingly, Lucas hasn’t seen his real twin, Klaus, since the boys were four years old. It was then that their mother shot and killed their philandering father before their eyes, wounding Lucas inadvertently.

What began in the trilogy’s earlier books as a deep and brutal parable of shifting morality, political hypocrisy and modern horror embodied by twin boys abandoned during wartime has, in “The Third Lie,” become an impossibly tangled family melodrama. Kristof has left a big pile of loose ends in this book, some of which she bafflingly carries forward from the earlier two: incestuous romances, “twinned” minor characters, unrevealed manuscripts, buried treasures, inconsequential lies — none of which are explained. Equally frustrating is that “The Third Lie,” by jettisoning the painfully compelling narratives that preceded it, renders meaningless the first two volumes of this trilogy. Set within its trilogy context, the book makes no sense; stripped of that context, “The Third Lie” is simply trite.

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