Tag Archives: Virginie Despentes

King Kong Theory

30 Jun

an excerpt from Virginie Despentes’s book King Kong Theory, one of the best books i’ve read in awhile:

So I am writing here, as one of the left-overs, one of those weirdos, the ones who shave their heads, those who don’t know how to dress, those who worry that they stink, those who have rotten teeth, those who don’t know how to go about things, are never given presents by men. those who will fuck anyone who’ll have them, the fat tarts, the skinny sluts, those whose cunts are always dry. those who have big bellies, those who would rather be men, those who behave as if they were men, those who think they’re porn queens, who don’t give a damn about guys but who are interested in their girlfriends, the ones with big assess and thick, dark body hair they don’t wax, brutish, noisy women, who destroy everything that gets in their way, those who don’t like perfume shops, whose red lipstick is too red, who haven’t got the figure to dress like hookers and yet desperately want to, women who want to wear men’s clothes and a beard in the street, those who want to show it all, those whose shyness is due to their hang-ups, those who don’t know how to say no, those who are locked up in order to be controlled, women who are scary, pitiful ones, women who don’t turn men on, those with flabby skin and face full of wrinkles, those who dream of plastic surgery, of liposuction, of having their noses broken so it can be reset but can’t afford it, women who look like the back of a bus, those who can only rely on themselves for protection, who don’t know how to comfort others, who couldn’t care less bout their kids, those who like to get drunk in bars and collapse on the floor, women who don’t behave. And in the same vein, while I’m at it, I’m writing for men who don’t want to protect, men who would like to be protective but don’t know where to start, men who don’t know how fight, those who cry easily, those who aren’t ambitious, competitive, well-hung or aggressive, men who are fearful, timid, vulnerable, men who prefer looking after their home to going out to work, men who are fragile, bald, too poor to be attractive, men who’d like to be fucked, men who don’t want to be counted on, men who are scared to be alone at night. Because this idea of the attractive but not whorish white woman, in a good marriage but not self-effacing, with a nice job but not so successful she outshines her man, slim but not neurotic over food, forever young without being disfigured by the surgeon’s knife, a radiant mother not overwhelmed by diapers and homework, who manages her home beautifully without becoming a slave to housework, who knows a thing or two but less than a man, this happy white woman who is constantly shoved under our noses, this woman we are all supposed to work hard to resemble–never mind that she seems to be running herself ragged for not much reward–I for one have never met her, not anywhere. My hunch is that she doesn’t exist.