Yesterday, through no fault of my own, I attended a poetry slam hosted by Hammer and Tongue. The ubiquitous Spoken Word collective who, on the first Wednesday of every month, host a series of poetry slams where I work. Despite not being the most enthralled individual by poetry and poetry slams (mostly because of how it really feels like finding a diamond in a heap of shit to me), I'm pretty open to the nights in which we host because I believe the people I work with have amazing taste.
The night opened with readings from a few poets, one of which was Salena Godden, and then after an hour or so the poetry slam started. The night was pretty slow but the venue was very full and it went on to the final round of the four hopeful finalists who would be going to the National Slam at the Royal Albert Hall on the 21stof June, alongside Kate Tempest.
However, this is where I lost all hope in humanity and the poetry slamming community forever and ever. The first of two winners, who achieved the highest score of the entire night, over all, recited a poem that started with (something along the lines of) “And I know you say you just want a 'nice boyfriend'” and there followed three minutes of him criticising himself for his “bitch tits” and “five foot six” and how she really, truly, deserves a nice boyfriend, but she shouldn't say she wants just a nice boyfriend because she doesn't want just a nice boyfriend. She wants intelligence, height, humour, a good jaw and not him.
Honestly, I don't remember his name, I'm sure it was something like Mike or Tom or something as equally forgettable as the rest of the night was but as I sat on the door with the sounds of people applauding his win, I couldn't help feel like … yeah I know he rhymed six and tits but does he really deserve to win? Isn't content important at all?
Clearly Mr. Five Foot Six With Bitch Tits was suffering from overwhelming Nice Guy Syndrome. I definitely don't believe that he thinks women just want bad boys, who will drive in on their Harley Davison and race off into the sunset after breaking their hearts. But I definitely believe that he is disillusioned by his self-image as the archetypal Nice Guy ® .
This Nice Guy ® believed that he is nice and he is everything his unfortunate beau may ever need but she doesn't reciprocate his love because she is wrong. She doesn't want a nice guy, she wants an exceptional man who holds the power of He-man and Einstein combined. The Geek Feminism Wiki sums up his Nice Guy mentality completely;
"Nice Guys™ seem to regard a man's relationship with a woman as successful or valuable only if it is romantic or sexual in nature, i.e. friendship is failure."
Their friendship meant nothing to him now because he was grieving and accepting that she will never be his. Alas! It read more like an obituary than a love letter.
I don't just believe that the Nice Guy ® and being male are mutually exclusive, but I don't think it doesn't stop it being completely misogynistic and harmful. Even when the Nice Guy mentality befalls a woman, she is still disenchanted by the fact that her dream guy only dates sluts and bimbos and she/he are forever trapped in the Friend Zone. Despite being slightly shorter and smaller framed than I was (and I could definitely do more damage to him in a fight than he could ever do to me), to have a man on stage recite a poem to such grand applause and a score close to 27 across a board of four is terrifying. Is it really such a widely thought idea that The Nice Guy is entitled to everything but forever receives nothing? Do we still believe that Nice Guys Finish Last?
Again, it is so deeply rooted to that sense of entitlement that resonates in young men. The underdog who believes that women are wrong when they openly say what they want in confidence, or confide in a friendship that means something to them. However that remains obsolete because it isn't actually what they desire. What a woman wants is wrong and the man is right. That is genuinely the archaic simplicity of the sentiment. This is distorted into the extreme perception that women seeks the "alpha male" and anything they may reject is completely subordinate. A sentiment echoed in the Santa Barbara killings by Elliot Rodgers himself. However as worrying as it was to hear such a large and diverse group of people revel in poetry based on such primative and dumbfounding beliefs. I don't believe that Mr. Five Foot Six should even be mentioned in the same breath as Rodgers. I don't believe he really thought he was entitled to very much at all and I think that's what made it all whole lot worse for me. He held this bizarre air of disproportionate self-pity. It felt a lot like he was setting this broken bird free from her cage, allowing her to find this more-than-nice Prince Charming that she'd so long been looking for. His pseudo-romanticism combined with his arrogance portrayed her as belligerent and stupid, how could she know what she is looking for her? It felt like a complete circle back to She should be looking for me!
Of course, writing and such condensed poetry especially hyperbole and metaphor will always rage on and men will continue to romanticise The One Who Got Away as a perfect flawless work of art. But how can she be so flawless if your entire winning piece was all about how flawed she is?
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