The term “mansplaining” is defined as “to explain something to someone, characteristically a man to a woman, in a manner regarded as condescending or patronising.”
The term “gentilesplaining” is best defined by Paul Burke’s column in this newspaper last week.
For those of you who missed Burke’s words of wisdom, he drew upon his North London upbringing and his “deep and genuine love for Jewish people” (aka “but some of my best friends are Jewish”) to tell the readership of the JC that all Jewish men are undeserving of their wives. Because they are uglier than them.
Burke came to this conclusion from dinner dates with “hundreds of Jewish couples” (busy guy) and, well, looking at them. He has quite the skill set: he can deduce the state of a marriage from a couple’s appearance and a chat over a curry (I thought the only two people who really know about a marriage are those actually in it but then I am no Burke).
He is also able to intuit what is really going on when a Jewish woman decides to marry a Jewish man: “Trust me,” he writes for the Jewish Shreks out there, “if neither of you were Jewish, you’d never have snared anyone half as desirable.” Burke, it seems, is the Jew whisperer.
Burke claims he isn’t one for falling back on lazy clichés — he only mentions the deeply antisemitic trope of Jewish women marrying for money to distance himself from it, of course. So why does he imagine a telephone conversation between a Jewish man and wife that concludes with her asking: “What time will you be home for dinner?”
Sorry, Burke, I know you’re an expert in this field and I know very little, what with being an actual Jewish wife, but not all of us are at home waiting to cook our husband’s meal. They do occasionally let us out of the shtetl to forge careers of our own. And encourage and support us, too.
I must be a right thorn in Burke’s side, by not marrying a “Michael from Stanmore” or a “David from Radlett” but a James from Manchester (I know, a Jewish man with an English sounding name, not hailing from North London, what are the chances?) Burke takes umbrage when a Jewish woman mentions her husband’s preference for Indian food when discussing a meal out. I can’t speak for all Jewish women the way Burke can, but I married a man that I consider to be so inspiring, kind, considerate (and not to mention truly handsome) that occasionally I will put his needs before mine. Irrespective of the fact that my husband does the same for me, Burke might interpret this as a sign of a fundamentally flawed relationship.
Seeing as Burke knows everything there is to know about Jewish relationships, it is probably unnecessary for me to try to explain how a shared religious and cultural upbringing can account for an intrinsic understanding of one another and consequently form a solid bedrock for a successful relationship.
In his extensive research, Burke, who admits he has been rejected by a few Jewish women in his time, has rarely a found a Jewess with the “courage” to marry a non-Jew. The rest of us, it follows, must be weak, frightened princesses with kneidels for brains.
I can’t make sweeping statements about Jewish women the way Burke can but there have been occasions when some Jewish women, myself included, have told non-Jewish men they can’t date them because of religion. And that wasn’t true. It was just more polite than saying “I don’t want to go out with you because you’re a patronising, sexist, ignorant pig.” But then, I am sure Burke already knew that. Right?
Abigail Radnor is features editor of Guardian Weekend
