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Friday, January
30, 2004
Oxford Eagle
Dear Editor,
I feel compelled, driven, tormented, and enflamed
to write this letter. Although I am loathe to bring any more attention
to the blight that has been visited upon our lovely city, I cannot
remain quiet and acquiesce while a plague of dim-witted, shrill-voiced,
and teased-hair harpies sully the good name of Oxford. Of course,
I am referring to the Yoknapatawpha County Literary Festival Beauty
Pageant.
Many here in our town are opposed to this parade
of women, much like the procession of cattle into the stockyard
ring where they are turned and prodded and primped, for reasons
of gender equality and sexual discrimination. Although I share
their opinions that "beauty pageants" are demeaning carnivals
of skin and legs, I do not wish to cast my lot with the feminists
from campus because, unlike them, I must accept the fact that the
girls who compete in these pageants are not unwilling participants
in their humiliation. Guns are not placed at their heads. Drugs
are not slipped in their drinks. They willingly go forward into
the spotlight with layers of make-up so much like our own southern
red clay of their own free will. So I will not debate whether this
pageant degrades its contestants.
However, I will stand up and fight and scream
and claw and punch and screech and bellow that this so-called beauty
pageant demeans and degrades Oxford and its wonderful literary
heritage! To hell with the young girls who want to be Temple Drake
and their desires for beauty queen status. Corncobs and bootleggers
await them and they will be indemnified for their poor choices
in life. But spare the rest of us of this charade. Spare this wonderful
postage stamp of soil from this silly tragic comedy.
William Faulkner wrote literature that stands
up to the ages. He changed the world and the perception of so many
in it. His legacy is the greatest novels ever written in the English
language. Joyce and Melville critics may disagree with me on that
point, but I am prepared to debate Faulkner's merits with anyone.
This base and cheap exhibition does not pay proper honor to Faulkner
or any of his Oxford literary descendents. Instead of raising awareness
and educating people around the world about the value of Oxford
literature, we are drawing attention for a silly and trivial spectacle.
In this sense, we are, to paraphrase Faulkner, working not of the
heart, but of the glands. Surely the tremendous artists of Oxford
deserve better.
I am aware that my opinions will be viewed by
many as cold-hearted and old-fashioned. I will be told that I am
not hip, that I am not current, and that I am not in step with
today's attitudes. I will not only dispute those charges, I will
gladly accept them. On this subject, I will gladly be Rosa and
hate with all the venom and bile she summoned forth. We do not
need to be fashionable to make a difference in this world. Let
me remind everyone that, although Mr. Faulkner was driven by dire
financial need to work in the world of Hollywood, he never felt
at home there, he never fit in there, he never succeeded there.
It was here in Oxford, at his beloved Rowan Oak, where he wrote
books that were not bestsellers, were not movies, and were not
hip. Instead, they were simply timeless. Let us all stand together
and tell the organizers of this beauty pageant that we deserve
more than just cheap commercialism and free skin shows. I, for
one, will not stand for this embarrassment of our town!
Lucille Ruffin-Moore
Oxford
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