Wednesday, June 27, 2012

NORA EPHRON: EVERY WOMAN'S WOMAN



By Anne Zeiser, President and CEO,
Azure Media



As I happened upon "You've Got Mail" on Bravo this weekend, I had no clue that in a few day’s time Nora Ephron would be gone, launching a tidal wave of sadness over millions of women worldwide. 


With my son planted on a video game, hubby puttering outside, and (male) pup curled at my feet, I reveled in the anticipation of snagging a few hours of girl time. Only Meg Ryan’s high-wasted pants revealed the late 90’s setting of this timeless romantic tale. While Ryan’s character, Kathleen Kelly fought unfailingly for the values imbued by her corner bookstore, it was the promise of love – in an unexpected package – that allowed her to explore the boundaries of ambiguity and compromise. Nestled on the couch, I realized I had come of age with Ephron’s female characters – with their rambling vulnerability, cut with flashes of spunky sarcasm. And, through them, Ephron had become an unwitting role model to millions of women.

Ephron knew better than most about the always-shocking chasm between what you expect and what you get. She witnessed it in her failed marriage, in the fits and starts of her early writing career, and in the sag of her neck. So, no surprise that my two-hour movie oasis was riddled with a son lamenting a mouse that didn’t sync with the computer, a husband who was parched by lawn work, and a dog that needed to pee. It’s just these little injustices of life that Ephron took on. Her weapons: the twin arrows of irony and celebration, which protected and guided her characters, and which showed the rest of us how to be whole, balanced women.

Ephron got women right over and over again – from Annie in “Sleepless In Seattle” and her loosely veiled self in “Heartburn,” to both J’s in “Julie & Julia.” But not just because she was a woman.  Plenty of women don't find that balance in the characters they write or in the lives they live. She got it right because she was brutally honest, yet eternally optimistic. And, because she used the metaphor of romance – the Holy Grail of archetypical storytelling – as her iterative teaching tool about life writ large.

So, when I got the New York Times alert on my iPhone last night about Ephron’s death I felt the immediate need to send the story to my best friend, Martie, a screenwriter and co-admirer of the sisters Ephron. Over the 4G network we mourned the font of creativity and wit that Ephron was. And, more deeply, we mourned Nora Ephron the role model. Not an angular feminist role model, but one smoothed by the tides of time and life experience.

Like Ephron, I’m product of a women’s – some might say feminist – education (Smith college and Dana Hall), believing I could do whatever I set my mind to. Early on, I understood the power of female friends and of bouncing my sonar off of other trusted women. Clearly, Ephron understood that too. 


No doubt she was a true and entertaining friend to some lucky women who shared her authentic female voice and healthy dose of self-mockery.  After meeting on “Silkwood,” Ephron and Meryl Steep continued to work together over the years.  Ephron was one of Arianna Huffington’s first bloggers on the Huffington Post and one of its greatest champions. I don’t know if Ephron ever met Julia Child, but her writing and directing “Julie & Julia” makes perfect sense. Julia was another accidental role model whose self-directed digs and reassurances about mistakes made, brought us joy – through the language of food.

Despite my female network, I began adulthood strident and absolute. Part of that sharpness was my not understanding the role of men in my journey. I found them alluring enough, yet saw them as obstacles and potential threats. Sometimes they were. Like when the star senior producer in our TV newsroom implied I’d get the promotion if I played nice with him or when a co-creative head presented my ideas as his. 


Still, Ephron showed me that there were great men to be found who were secure enough to support and encourage smart, funny women, just as Sally found her Harry in “When Harry Met Sally” and Nora found her Nicholas (Pileggi) (and colleagues like Rob Reiner). Along with demonstrating the strength of women and the paradoxes of life, she taught us about the sweetness of romantic love and vulnerability.  She let me bring men fully into my life, despite my rigid notions they’d hold me back. (It hasn’t escaped me that I now live in a household of four in which I’m the only female).

So the addendum to my truth became, “behind every good woman is another good women – and sometimes, a good man.”

I continue to struggle with the ambivalence of balancing a rich career – in TV journalism, documentary films, social change and marketing – with the many facets of my personal life – being a friend, sibling, wife, mother, cancer survivor, etc. (So has Anne-Marie Slaughter, revealed in The Atlantic’s “Why Women Still Can’t Have It All,” but that’s for another blog) 


This week, Ephron’s wisdom and death have provided even more perspective on that ongoing struggle. She’s telling me that the strongest woman isn't the most ambitious or unswerving, but rather the most creative and most willing to recalibrate her truths as life changes. She’s the woman who perseveres against all odds, who shares what she has with others, and is willing to laugh at herself and life along the way.  

She’s any of us, she’s all of us, she’s every woman’s woman.

In the end, I think Nora would want us to celebrate life – ours and hers. She summed it up in her 1996 Wellesley College commencement speech, “Above all, be the heroine of your life, not the victim.”

As we raise a glass of French wine to fete our heroine Nora Ephron, I’ll add in a thanks. Thank you for allowing me to “have what she’s having.”




1 comment:

  1. A thought-provoking tribute to an amazingly talented lady! Ephron inspired so many women to take chances, embrace the unexpected, and live life to its fullest. May her wit, courage, and insight stay with us forever.

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