~Carrie Bradshaw I watched the final episode of Sex and the City last night on TBS (didn’t see it on HBO, because we don’t have the channel). For the last few months, every Tuesday at work, while typing invoices and balancing spreadsheets, I’ve looked forward to my nightly hour and 15 minutes with Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte and Samantha.
Why did I love it so? Besides being witty and imaginative and shockingly honest, besides chronicling just about every romantic and sexual situation known to womankind, besides the engaging portrayal of four good friends, I loved it because it challenged me. Azar Nafisi writes in Reading Lolita:
I explained [to my class] that most great works of the imagination were meant to make you feel like a stranger in your own home. The best fiction always forced us to question what we took for granted. It questioned traditions and expectations when they seemed too immutable. I told my students I wanted them in their readings to consider in what ways these works unsettled them, made them a little uneasy, made them look around and consider the world, like Alice in Wonderland, through different eyes.
Sex and the City was definitely unsettling at times. But, it made me consider things like unconditional support, being true to oneself and, using Carrie's words, "real love—ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can't-live-without-each-other love." It also gave me an appreciation for Manolos. Not bad for a TV show.