All of this is more noteworthy, apparently, than being one of the best-selling writers of all time.
The Australian tried, weakly, to defend itself, noting that the story had been written in the past by an obituary writer who has himself since died. What, they have no living copy editors?
The story has sparked a cottage industry of fake obits from outraged women – and men — who only imagine what kind of treatment they would have received from the obituary writer.
Beavercreek writer and editor Janet Coburn made this attempt: “After a childhood marked by increasingly peculiar behavior, and despite remaining unmedicated until well into her 20s, Ms. Coburn managed to acquire two postsecondary degrees. Never fond of hairstyling and makeup, she surprisingly acquired a husband as well. Some of her writing has been published.”
Novelist Sharon Short (and Dayton Daily News “Literary Life” columnist) isn’t surprised by the sexist reaction: “Years ago, when my first novel came out, I was interviewed for a piece for a newspaper (not the Dayton Daily). I was so excited… until I saw the feature. The focus was how AMAZING it was that I had a day job, two young children — then a baby and a toddler — and yet somehow managed to write a book. I remember my utter dismay and thinking that were I a man, the focus would have been on exactly what I’d hoped it would be: my craft and process in writing a novel and finding a publisher. This focus would not have been applied to a male writer. That experience is why, as much as I love and adore my husband and our two daughters, I often leave them out of my bio simply because I don’t see why my personal life should have anything to do with my professional life.”
Short added, “This particular obituary writer would, if writing my obit, no doubt mention that I too am plain of face and certainly overweight, and add that I’m at best a marginal housekeeper. Hopefully I’d get credit, though, for my pie-making skill and flaky crusts. For my obit, my awesome family could be mentioned and I’d be fine with that. A side note about my literary endeavors would be most welcome.”
Longtime Dayton activist and volunteer Jan Rudd moved to Minneapolis last year to be closer to family. “Eighty-year-old me would hope this writer would say something very different from what I believe would be said,” Rudd speculated. “ I would like to be remembered as a strong and brave supporter of women’s rights but it is more likely that this writer would describe me as obsessed with a woman’s right to choose abortion ‘but had no trouble attracting men.’’’
Rudd can’t help asking herself, “Why are women written out of history as this writer seems to have done? My only answer is that times have not changed as much as we like to believe nor as much as we would want. Even though women have made great advances in my lifetime — much more than I would have thought possible at age 18, we still have a way to go, as evidenced by this writer.”
Heidi Scheirer McGrew of Beavercreek believes the problem goes beyond sexism: “Something that pops out at me is that this isn’t just about her gender but also and perhaps more significantly to the obit writer, it’s about the fact that she was overweight. It’s still ‘okay’ to make fun of people’s size. For many people, being fat is due to a lack of moral fiber or strength and fat people deserve to be lonely. To me, this obit is telling us more about the obit writer than about the deceased — and, to me, that makes it poor writing.”
Twitter exploded with parodies, many of them mocking the unlikely possibility that anything comparable would be written about famous men.
Hobbit creator JRR Tolkien, for instance, might have been summarized as “a touch shriveled and certainly orc-esque in his latter years, Tolkien nevertheless was a prolific and talented fantasy weaver.”
And what about James Joyce? “Four-eyed and certainly a dead ringer for the baddie in Willie Wonka, Joyce nevertheless had an impact on the literary scene.”
Oxford artist Laura Livingston penned this remembrance of our nation’s founder: “Wooden of teeth, prematurely balding, and a slave owner, [but] nevertheless a tall man, George Washington crossed the Delaware.”
Director and screenwriter Cathryn Michon thought she would be remembered as a “lifetime chocolate addict and well known ogler of hunky firefighters (also film director of ‘Muffin Top: A Love Story).’”
She also offered her take on what would happen “if the obituaries of famous men were written as contemptuously as those of famous women.” Abraham Lincoln, for instance: “Known best among his contemporaries for his horrible, unflattering oversized hats and unsightly facial moles, Lincoln was also remembered for having been president and freeing the slaves.”
And what about Einstein? “Easily recognizable because of his absolute disregard for even the most basic standards of hair grooming, and completely incapable of simple tasks such as driving a car or laundering his clothes, Albert Einstein was also known for his theory of relativity, which ushered in the atomic age.”
And here’s Michon’s take on another world figure: “Unemployed carpenter and amateur vintner Jesus Christ somehow managed to turn his random philosophical musings, uttered while aimlessly wandering the Middle East with his devoted entourage, into one of the world’s major religions, Christianity.”
It’s discouraging that this kind of reaction can still happen when we lose celebrated women. And it’s hardly an isolated incident: The New York Times’ obituary of rocket scientist Yvonne Brill led with the fact that “she made a mean beef stroganoff.”
But there’s reason to feel encouraged.
Readers all over the world are fighting back with the best of all possible weapons: their wit.
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