view of Barr, which means it was justnabout carved in stone — at least untilnshe riled up thirty thousand people innJack Murphy Stadium.nThe lasting image from the wholenaffair — the one of America’s Blue-nCollar Queen singing the national anthemnfingers-in-ears to block the soundnof public rejection — was compellingnto me, in part because I’m the productnof a blue-collar home and know mynshare of working-class women. Thesenwomen, waitresses and factory workersnwho go off in the morning just likentheir husbands, are consequential, substantial,nalmost imposing. They are asnvocal as men, as funny as men, and asnresilient as men, while remaining appropriatelynunlike men. Some of themnare susceptible to the politics of classnresentment. A few hold polidcal andnsocial views that would curl your hairn(which is why it’s a big mistake tonromanticize the Common Man). Butnthe majority have come through hardnlives with a singular nugget of psychologicalnstrength: they know how tonpursue happiness without demandingnit, and thus, resistant to alienation, theynpossess the capacity for both pleasurenin the present and hope in the futuren— all in all, no small feat, but notnparticularly rare. (Which is why it’s anbig mistake to underestimate the CommonnMan. Liberals, of course, don’tnknow what they think about the CommonnMan. They pay tribute to hisninnate wisdom while simultaneouslyntelling him he’s the vichm of manipulation,nexploitation, and deception.nAnd they wonder why they can’t get anPresident elected.)nThese are the same women describednby Barbara Ehrenreich, in annadoring piece on Roseanne Barr fornthe New Republic as “the hopelessnunderclass of the female sex . . . thendespised, the jilted, the underpaid.”nThe trouble with that description, ofncourse, is that most working-classnwomen hate it. They hate it first becausenit’s a lie, second because it’s anninsulting lie, and third because it’s anninsulting lie that is supposed to bensome sort of homage. Most workingclassnwomen are proud of the worknthey do and the money they earn. Andnyou don’t become consequential, substantial,nor imposing — you don’t evennbecome funny or resilient (though youncan become vocal)—by feeling “de­nspised.” When you get right-down tonit, a blue-collar life doesn’t even meannyou have to be fat or act stupid. Nonenof the working-class women I knownwould ever say, as Roseanne Barr’s TVncharacter does, “You always manage tonsay the most perfectly wrongest thing,”nbecause 1) they all know better and 2)nif any of them did speak that way, thenworking-class people around themnwould ask, “Why are you talking like andope?”nHaving experienced the real thing, Inwas completely disinclined to checknout Roseanne Barr’s sitcom version ofnworking-class life when it burst on thenTV scene. First of all, a “realisticnsituation comedy” is a contradiction innterms. Second, I figured it would containnlots of references to beer andnbowling. But when Barr appeared onnthe covers of three magazines in onenweek, I gave in. I watched the showntwice, the first time to check out thisnradical new working-class icon everyonenwas talking about. I watched thensecond time because I figured I mustnhave missed something the first time.nThe show is the very essence of sitcomnTV: it has the properties of comedy —nand thus can evoke laughs — withoutnactually being funny. And the same isntrue of its star.nBeyond that, both the show and itsnstar operate on at least one assumptionnthat runs contrary to human nature:nslobs see themselves in other slobs. (Gonahead, ask ten overweight, unkemptnwomen this question: do you identifynwith the slovenliness of RoseannenBarr? You’ll get eight indignant denialsnand two punches in the mouth.)nHere’s what I learned about the characternof Roseanne on Roseanne. She isnan obese woman who wears what appearnto be her obese husband’s worknshirts — and they fit. She enjoys proletypensnack food, makes noises whennshe eats, and talks with her mouth full.nShe tells her kids to go play in thentraffic. Her grammar (like her singing)nis definitely atrocious. She tells offnofficious, heartless people who gonaround dumping on the Little Cuy.n(She seems to get dumped on a lot,nwhich is, I take it, the TV definition ofna Little Cuy. No wonder liberals loventhis show.) She spends a lot of timenbeing ticked off.nAt the same time, Roseanne’s politicsnand social consciousness are . . .nnnperfect. That is, not one of her politicalnor social views is meant to curl yournhair. Her class resentments aren’t anwaste or a burden, they’re a badge ofnhonor and her strength. She proudlynembodies a world view in which femalenstrength and class power spring fromnanger, anti-elitism, and coarseness:nlife’s a bitch, we all get shafted, andnmoral authority begins with a bignmouth.nAn angry slob, a porker with annattitude. That’s the revolutionary, “realistic”nnew image of blue-collar womanhoodnso many entertainment criticsnand social analysts are in love with.nAnd why is this repellent figure consideredna worthy symbol of working-classnwomen? Because she has so muchnpride, that’s why! As for Roseanne’snappearance, everyone knows thatnworking-class women are too oppressednto look presentable; and besides,ntheir sloppiness (as well as theirnobesity) is part of their reality, just asntheir tackiness, when they do decide tondress up, is part of their charm. Everyonenalso knows that working-class folksngo around scarfing Cheetos andnscratching themselves, so Roseanne’sndemeanor and habits aren’t uncouth,nthey’re authentic. (As Barbara Ehrenreichnput it in the New Republic,n”Yeah, she’s crude, but so are thenrealities of pain and exploitation shenseeks to remind us of.” See how itnworks? To be effective, we must personifynthe essence of the things wenhate.) And when Roseanne tells hernkids to go play in the traffic, it isn’tnsuggestive of her character’s self-indulgencen(or just a cheap TV laugh line),nit’s an understandable but maternallynharmless expression of both femalenfrustration and the anger — pervasivenyet justified — of the working class.nAlso it’s ironic.nAdmirers of the Roseanne characternare saying that we should expect less ofnher because so much more is demandednof her. If that’s a patronizing view ofnblue-collar women, too bad and toonlate. Time, that well-known voice ofnthe working class, has already decidednRoseanne is “an honest portrayal ofnblue-collar family life.”nIn truth, nothing on entertainmentntelevision is “honest,” and viewers understandnthis, even if critics don’t.nRoseanne is popular for the same reasonnThe Cosby Show is popular.nNOVEMBER 1990/47n