As you might have heard, last week Lena Dunham sold her first book for $3.7m, far exceeding the paltry million her agent asked for.
The internet response to the news was instant and predictable: a mix of excitement and incredulity, quickly followed by a backlash against anyone who dared to suggest that over two million quid might be a lot of money for a 26 year old’s memoirs.
The word “haters” was bandied about on Twitter and in hastily scribbled blog posts, as in, “What have Dunham’s haters done with their lives that’s so special?!”
But… we’re not haters. We’re just jealous.
I can’t speak for the whole internet (although if that job ever opens up, I’m available) but I don’t think anyone in my social network hates or even resents Dunham for her success. We’re just a bit bummed out that an equally fabulous publishing opportunity hasn’t come our way (yet) . And we’re allowed to feel like that.
Or are we? American site xoJane is famous for its over-sharing (full disclosure: I’ve contributed a couple of articles), with recent pieces admitting everything from racism to digging out a girlfriend’s tampon. But one of the very few that founding editor Jane Pratt saw fit to sprinkle with scolding comments was a self-deprecating piece by Ella West [http://www.xojane.com/it-happened-to-me/lena-dunham-girls], a former classmate of Dunham, who admitted she felt some angst over her peer’s stratospheric success.
A lot of commenters responded harshly, accusing West of whining and a sense of entitlement and telling her it’s not Dunham’s fault she feels bad.
Of course it isn’t — but no one suggested it was. It’s possible to want to experience a fraction of Dunham’s success while also admiring her ability and achievements. As one of very few young women at the helm of a hit TV show, Dunham’s breaking new ground, and that’s great for all of us.
But it’s worth considering that, although she’s no doubt worked incredibly hard, she also has great connections through her parents’ work and enjoys a lot of privilege. I know discussions of the p-word can quickly become heated, because it’s too often used as an insult rather than an observation. But as a disabled woman, I find it essential and helpful to recognise that society operates under power structures that make it easier for certain groups of people to access certain opportunities.
In fact, I think jealousy is a natural reaction to inequality. When Jane Pratt told West, “Someone else’s gain is not your loss” she may be right, but it doesn’t always feel that way. There are still fewer opportunities for women in every field, so it’s understandable if it sometimes feels like there isn’t room for all of us. (While it’s flattering to Dunham, it’s also telling that she’s being hailed as the voice of her generation, as if one female voice is all that’s needed.)
My envy of Dunham is triggered by her career success, because as a writer and a narcissist, I can’t imagine anything more gratifying than being paid millions to turn my life into a television show and book.
But when I conducted a totally unscientific poll on Facebook, my friends admitted to mostly feeling envy around other women’s looks or perfect-seeming relationships/homes/children. It can’t be coincidental that these are the areas society encourages women to base their self worth on.
One woman messaged me privately, saying she felt too ashamed to publicly admit to her jealousy. Some women claimed not to experience it, while others called it a useless emotion, as if there’s some kind of emotions economy where jealousy isn’t legal tender.
Perhaps one reason women don’t like to discuss it is that envy (of men, and of each other) is an accusation often flung at feminists by our opponents as a derailing technique. But there’s a big difference between tearing each other down and talking honestly about our emotions.
I recently listened to an interview with comedian Sara Schaefer where she talked about sometimes feeling jealous of her podcast co-host, Nikki Glaser. Her honesty and vulnerability in admitting to an emotion we’re not encouraged to talk about was refreshing, and only made her seem more relatable.
Sure, I grumbled a little about Dunham’s book deal on social media sites, but sharing my jealousy and laughing with other writers who felt similarly allowed me to move on rather than wallowing in resentment.
Maybe jealously is only destructive if we repress it — or if we try to stop other people from expressing it. It’s just the result of neurons firing, after all. It doesn’t make someone a bad person, or a terrible feminist. And it certainly doesn’t make them a hater.
-DS
What do you think? Are you dead jealous of Lena Dunham? Do you think you could do the whole voice of a generation thing better? Or is Lena Dunham your spirit animal? Let us know in the comments.
If it’s any consolation to some of you, she is clearly very successful (MILLIONS!) but, er, I still don’t know who she is…
Never heard of her either. But if that’s her picture, she looks quite cute and funny.
Glad to see I’m not the only person who didn’t have a clue who on earth she was…
Haha! Wow, I thought everyone had heard of her. (Are you jealous now you *have* heard of her?) She was also Emmy-nominated for her hit TV show Girls, if that rings any bells…?
I am deeply suspicious of the concept of “trickle-down” anything, but I work in TV, with writers, & for whatever reasons (benevolent sexism and momentary trendiness high among them, I suspect), female writers and creators are becoming more prominent, popular and desirable. And my guess is that Dunham will help this process along, helping chip away at the entrenched patriarchy.
As for privilege – if you’ve got it, you have no more opportunity to shed it as if you were black or disabled (okay, you could give away your possessions, but the background, the support, the mindset will remain). It’s absolutely certain that Dunham’s privileged position led to opportunities others will never have. But other than accepting it as a fact, and being jealous/envious of it (if that’s how you react), I’m not sure what else can be “considered” really.
*full transparency – I’m probably as privileged as she is, with a well-off background and significant contacts in my chosen profession, and I’m a bloke.
I’d never heard of her either, until I read about this book deal. But I’ve heard of you, Diane!
I would be dead jealous if I was doing the same kind of thing as her, as I always am of writers in my genre who get huge deals – especially if they’re with my publishers and doing very much the same sort of thing as me, and if I feel I do it just as well or better. I think the closer to home it is, the harder it is to take. It seems quite arbitrary sometimes.
But I think you’re right that it’s quite natural to feel jealous, and you’ve hit the nail on the head that it’s about inequality. It’s not the same as being jealous of someone who wins the lottery, for instance. It’s the feeling that it’s not fair because you’ve worked just as hard and your stuff is just as good, and you deserve it as much as they do.
Hi Mark, thanks for your comment! When I talk about “considering”, I partly mean that it’s worth people who have a lot of privilege acknowledging that fact and the opportunities it’s afforded them (which doesn’t happen all that often outside of feminist sites, in my experience). I think it can help them relate to other people who haven’t had that experience, and maybe they’ll [for example] even go on to employ or represent them on their TV shows.
It’s also about people who have been denied specific opportunities for reasons other than talent/hard work (e.g. I’ve been denied certain work and education experiences solely due to disability) recognising that society isn’t organised equally, because it helps make sense of our lived experiences, which is incredibly valuable.
It might not seem like much, but I think just recognising inequality and talking about it can help pave the path to change. None of that is about taking anything away from someone with privilege, which you’re right, would be impossible to do.
Clodagh, thank you! I am now offically more famous than Lena Dunham (to one person). Thank you for being unabashed about admitting to jealousy, too. It is an acknowledgement that luck is often arbitrary, and I don’t see anything wrong with that. (Here’s hoping you’ll be making someone else jealous before too long, though!)
Fantastic post! Finally, someone found the right words for how I was feeling about Lena Dunham.
My close friends are somehow safe from all feelings of jealousy (guess how much I envy them for _that_) so I didn’t get much understanding there. They kept thinking I was being “a hater” and of course that appalled them. In fact, it appalled me too but I just couldn’t get to the bottom of what I was feeling and why.
It’s really not that I resent Lena Dunham for her success. But – especially as a filmmaker and especially since I was born in a country with virtually no film/tv industry – I resent not enjoying the same privilege. And thanks to this post I can now securely say: I’m bloody well entitled to that
Yes, I totally agree. As one of only a handful of women in my writing/directing degree course it’s sometimes hard to be all smiley and chipper when you’ve been slogging your guts out, maxing out credit cards to make films, and Lena Dunham has her own show, on HBO no less…that’s not to say I didn’t love ‘Girls’, I really related to it, but somehow that just makes it all the more painful.