The FDA’s approval of Botox has the pundits all atwitter. To wit:
William Saffire says a “furrowed brow gives the impression of a brain thinking deep thoughts… how will a politician be able to measure a voter’s reaction to the stump speech? … How can the viewer, at a rally or watching television, know if the politician is truly concerned about the public’s grave anxieties if the demagogue bites off his words in a tight-jawed rictus, physically unable to appear infuriated, worried or empathetic?
Ellen Goodman says “You trade the ability, literally, to express your emotions – furrow that brow, crinkle that eye – for a flawless appearance. In the search for approval from others, you hide what you are feeling. Especially anger.”
Who would have expected these venerable columnists to offer such a perfectly complementary Mars/Venus interpretation within days of one another?
Both columns are a good read (Saffire, as always, has me repeatedly zipping over to dictionary.com – “tight-jawed rictus“? Is that related to sphincter? Sort of, but not what I was thinking.), but both miss the mark for me.
The instinctive desire for More comes in many flavors for each of us, tantalizing us with the promise of happiness once we get it. The Botox promise of More — more youthful appearance, therefore more approval from others, therefore more love or admiration — doesn’t seem any different than other kinds of More. More money, More power, More toys, More education, More spiritual development, More you-name-it — all have the same dead ends.
I can’t be sure, but I think I detect in both Goodman and Saffire a little condescension. Do they get More approval because of how well they’re handling the “letting yourself go” process? I don’t think I’ll ever do Botox or dye my graying hair, but I can’t be sure. My desire for More is as sneaky as anyone’s.