The Show About Something: Anxious Manhoodand the Homosocial Order on Seinfeld

Joanna L. Di Mattia

Introduction: What is Seinfeld About?

In the several weeks preceding the very private nuptials of Jerry Seinfeld and Jessica Sklar there was significant and curious speculation as to whether Jerry would actually say "I do." [1] Jerry on Seinfeld is the eternal bachelor, slipping easily in and out of relationships with no emotional attachment. It is not surprising then that many commentators, effortlessly traversing the seemingly thin line between television Jerry and real Jerry, wondered if life would end up imitating television art? Would he break it off with Jessica if she ate her peas one at a time, or did housework naked, or accidentally dropped his toothbrush into the toilet? How had this relationship even reached the point of engagement?

A telling example of the slippage here between life and television comes from Tom Gliatto's Who Weekly report, "Jerry Engaged? Get Out!"( 66-72). [2] From its opening lines, this article immediately implicates Seinfeld in real events. [3] Gliatto employs a number of Seinfeld-isms, like "yada, yada, yada," interviews cast members to establish whether Jerry Seinfeld is really the marrying type, and suggests that being a fiancé is just another scripted role for Jerry to play. Gliatto compares the courtship of Jerry and Jessica to an episode of the show: "the relationship appears to have proceeded by fits and starts; like one of those Seinfeld romantic muddles" (69). It is also fortunate, he exclaims, that she loves New York too! The article is consumed by this blurring of life and television, cautioning that Jerry's engagement may follow the celluloid road. Because Seinfeld bears the name of its co-creator and star, Jerry Seinfeld, it has been difficult for viewers and commentators to separate his actual life from the homosocial environment depicted on television. If Seinfeld is a 'chronicle' of Jerry Seinfeld's everyday life, where does the 'real' Jerry begin?

For nine seasons we watched a parade of relationship disasters on Seinfeld. In fact, the majority of the scripts of this fast-paced sit-com revolve around the ups-and-downs, errors and trials of the contemporary dating game for the affluent singles of New York. We watched and wondered: what faults would Jerry find with his latest girlfriend? How would George squirm his way out of yet another embarrassing situation? Much of Seinfeld is about the fear and anxiety involved in men's encounters with women. In the shape of Jerry and George, Seinfeld presents its audience with two men incapable of committing to a serious, long-term relationship with women—men who prove themselves dependably childish and ineffectual as romantic partners, but amazingly loyal and resilient friends.

Despite its fixation with dating, Seinfeld never presents coupledom as an ideal state of living, instead preferring to make comedy out of the problems and burdens of relationships, the failures and defeats, many often bordering on disaster. The women in Jerry's and George's lives impinge upon their buddy system and threaten the homosocial order they work so hard to maintain. Theirs is a self-absorbed environment that keeps these men focussed on their own problems and needs, impeding them from relating to women as adults. As a result, maintaining a romantic relationship is exposed as incompatible with their bond. Even for Elaine—the only regular female cast member—dating is a dilemma. Sometimes she jealously longs for a perfect romance, however, she settles for the imperfection of her male friends. The latter is simply a lot easier.

If and when a couple does surface on Seinfeld it is usually effortlessly dissolved before next week's show. If it miraculously survives longer than thirty minutes, there is always a way to reduce that person to total insignificance, and eventually to be rid of them altogether. In the case of Elaine's 'long-term' boyfriend David Puddy, the perpetual insincerity and silliness of their relationship styles it as virtually non-existent beyond the sexual. George and his long-suffering fiancée Susan Ross are stuck together until death conveniently parts them. Nothing, it would seem, can compare with the impenetrable cult of friendship these people have created around each other.

Geoffrey O'Brien, in his article, "Sein of the Times," argues that the show breaks new ground in American television by avoiding social commentary (12-14). But his is a strangely decontextualized reading of the show. Seinfeld was not created within a vacuum and clearly comments on the current cultural milieu. Lynne Joyrich points out that television is never a 'neutral' instrument, but is "organized in particular ways, with particular intentions, and with particular effects" (30). By organizing its primary space as a homosocial, male-identified one, Seinfeld presents a point-of-view on how these male anxieties arise and how they may be negotiated. A decision regarding gender representation is made for every scripted scenario. As Joyrich argues, television has always defined and reflected the ideological space of American culture (22).

It is my position that the male fear and anxiety central to Seinfeld collapses the commonly held idea that this is a show about nothing. Seinfeld satirically constructs images and narratives about something—it is aware of the wider cultural anxiety surrounding masculinity and gender relations and comments on this. It is self-consciously located within this discourse and a definable historical moment that it sets out to ridicule and expose. Seinfeld is a satirical social spectacle about something more than the exploits of four single New York friends—it is about the specific environment they live in and the responses it elicits from them. Behind the innovative humor and the satirical contempt it holds for its own characters, Seinfeld is aware that it enacts something representative of a very specific moment in American social history.

In "The Pilot" we can see that Seinfeld clearly knows the implications of what it presents under the guise of comedy. This incisive episode parodies Seinfeld's own beginnings. After months of writing the pilot for their "show about nothing" entitled "Jerry," Jerry and George have arrived at the time to cast and screen it. This does not go as smoothly as either would hope, and the process of reconstructing their "show about nothing" within the "show about nothing" visualizes Seinfeld's awareness of its own position as a contrived spectacle.

In this article I read Seinfeld as a satirical template of the current "crisis" state in defining white, heterosexual American manhood. The concept of homosociality is central to my reading of the organization of male relationships on the show. I argue that Jerry and George display an unwavering anxiety about being seen as "men," and that this is a constant thread through Seinfeld's nine seasons. I examine the connection here between the homosocial environment and the actions of these men in order to prove themselves "men." With George at the helm as the most excessively anxious man, we are shown the implications of taking these anxieties to their most illogical conclusions. Seinfeld presents extreme scenarios in order to say something about them, and offers a critical position on what is being satirized. Ridiculing male anxiety and fear, therefore, functions as a form of social critique.

The Contemporary Crisis of Masculinity, or How to Be a Man

Seinfeld invites us into the world of the single American at the end of the twentieth century—a world in which friendship, not marriage, is the defining aspect of contemporary life. Seinfeld's world is peopled by predominantly white, heterosexual, middle-class New Yorkers, an insular world largely intolerant of and indifferent to those whose characteristics fail to conform to their own. On Seinfeld, Jerry and his friends form among themselves a group of like-minded people whose individual goals reinforce those of the group as a whole. A number of current American television programs testify to the primacy of friendship, including Friends, Will and Grace, and Sex and the City. In an era where marriage as the climax of adult fulfilment has declined, a strong network of friends has become an alternative and satisfying relationship model. [4] Friendships guard against social isolation. Sociologist Graham Allan points out that friendship can "help to provide us with our sense of identity" and "also confirms our social worth" (1, 48). Jerry and George, for example, have come together as friends through a definable social organization, a comforting "sameness" which includes the markers of gender, race, and class.

Jerry and George participate in a mutual "homosocial enactment." This term is used by Michael Kimmel in Manhood in America to explain the behavior of men seeking other men's approval (7). It is a process of performative masculinity—visibly exhibiting so-called masculine codes and behavior in order to have manhood validated. Central to my discussion here is the seventh season episode "The Engagement," which offers an exemplary model of this homosocial enactment between Jerry and George. In this episode Jerry and George have a momentary awakening to the immaturity and monotony of their lives and agree that the time has come for them to grow up and become men. This results in George's unexpected engagement that he believes will prove to Jerry he is a grown-up. George regrets his decision almost immediately when Jerry does not take action to grow up too. George is forever anxious about what is actually required of him to prove his manhood, and this dilemma triggers a series of absurd dating and relationship predicaments of which "The Engagement" is the most extreme.

Jerry and George struggle to attain the elusive standards of American manhood, because what these standards currently are remains unclear to them. The ideals of American manhood have historically been problematic to achieve because of their relation to the promises of the "American dream." [5] The "American dream"—the belief that if you work hard in America you can achieve anything you set out to—is part of a cultural mythology born in the earliest days of settlement and expansion for the primary benefit of white men. In the modern era it encompasses the aspirations of all Americans. When first articulated, however, in the writings of Benjamin Franklin, settler narratives, and early literature, it shaped American culture and character as if absent of women and ethnicity.

The features of the "American dream" parallel the traditional tenets of white, heterosexual American manhood, the particular model with which Seinfeld and this article are concerned. Such corresponding features include gaining freedom over one's destiny, displaying heroism and courage, triumphing over adverse conditions, and most importantly, attaining success and riches. [6] To be seen as a man in America is to have pursued and realized these goals. These qualities are further evident in popular American archetypes like the cowboy and the drifter, and the figure of the self-made man. [7] As a result of this cultural history the American man is idealized as competitive, physical, prosperous, and heroic.

Even today the American masculine ideal remains connected to these historical concepts, but what was once guaranteed to the white, heterosexual man now seems a mystery. The traditional ideas of what a "real" man in America is are no longer workable cultural mythologies: the reality of what white men in America once felt they were entitled to has diminished. Masculine ideals fail to match the conditions in contemporary America or the actual experience of men's lives. [8] Changes in economic conditions, increased competition for and loss of job security, combined with an overall sense of decline in opportunities, have revealed both the "American dream" and the masculine "mystique" as fictions. They both encompass ideas of privilege written into the fabric of American culture under very different social and economic circumstances than those at the end of the twentieth century. In The United States of Anger, Gavin Esler argues that "many of the country's citizens remain anxious or angry that the lives they lead fall short of the America of their dreams" (6). No citizen, I would add, feels this anxiety and anger more acutely than the white, middle-class, heterosexual man.

In a nation still resonating with the significant social changes effected by second-wave feminism, the Vietnam War, and Affirmative Action policies, white, heterosexual men feel themselves victims of transformations beyond their control, with a need to find scapegoats for their perceived losses. These three "events" have instituted a minor shift in the balance of power in American society away from white men. For example, the Vietnam War—the democratic white man's war—diminished America's sense of goodness, rightness, and heroism. As John Hellman argues, the war called into question the entirety of American mythology and American's ideas of themselves: "The legacy of Vietnam is the disruption of our story, of our explanation of the past and vision of the future" (x).

Responding most strongly, however, to the assertions of the women's movement, white, heterosexual men have been forced to re-examine the traditional definitions of masculinity. As Michael Kimmel argues, crises and reconsiderations of the masculine role are most climactic when women have redefined their own role ("The Contemporary 'Crisis'" 124). The "rules" of American life and the foundations upon which it is built have profoundly changed, and the image American men have of themselves is struggling to adapt. Seinfeld provides numerous examples of the ambiguous nature of male-female relationships in the wake of feminism—of men unsure how to behave or just what it is that they are measuring up to.

Following from the victories of the earlier Civil Rights and women's movements, the influence of Affirmative Action policies in the 1980s has also been perceived to have displaced the primacy of the white man in politics, business, and other institutional structures, providing a further cause to reconsider white male power. Women, homosexuals, African-Americans and people from other ethnic backgrounds have become visible in the public sphere, a domain that white, heterosexual men had come to believe was exclusively their own. These challenges have launched a discourse of the white man as victim, besieged on all sides by those who want what he has always taken for granted. David Savran presents an interesting explanation of this discourse, arguing that it is a cultural fantasy perpetuated by white men to avoid economic and social responsibility for those they have oppressed. [9] As the traditional foundations for models of masculinity crumble, men no longer have practical inherited symbols against which to measure their manhood. Feelings of victimization, I would argue, are primarily associated with the loss of power. To reclaim that power, Kimmel contends, men often go to any length to prove they are indeed men. He likens this to a quest, making it clear that masculinity and manhood are not intrinsic to men, but instead must be achieved and continuously tested (Manhood in America 4). The ideal American man—the self-made man—is made, not born, and therefore must participate in this quest.

Such crises responses are not necessarily new or unique. At the turn of the twentieth century, amidst rapid industrialization and the first wave of feminism, it was believed that American men were losing their manhood—becoming "feminized." [10] After second-wave feminism and the advent of the "new" man, a feminization of American culture was believed to have occurred again. [11] And so, the "Weekend Warrior" was born, together with the "New Age Man," whom the media told us was not afraid to cry, while

others visited weekend retreats with other men to evoke the lost core of masculinity. [12] These crises points force a redefinition of masculinity, often through a troubled and troubling reassertion of traditional "masculine" virtues such as violence, aggression and separation from women. In 1910 it was the founding of the Boy Scouts of America, and in the mid-1980s, the response was evident in the abundance of macho, Vietnam War films, "remasculinizing" feminized America from outside. [13]

In light of these challenges to traditional masculinity and the "crisis" in defining manhood that it has produced, the discipline of "men's studies" has emerged both to critique and reconstitute ideals and representations of men. Men's studies derive from the similar concerns of women's studies, and some of its major figures employ feminist approaches to gender in their analyses. Men's studies also asserts that gender is a cultural construction, and as such, brings with it highly mythologized and restrictive identities. The discipline often refers to itself as the new men's studies, because it moves away from the universalization of all knowledge and experience as belonging to "man." Seeing gender as a form of social organization, it sets out to revise this knowledge as it exists within a gendered world. [14] Men's studies investigates the private, subjective experience of men, examining the lived reality of their lives and the social forces shaping masculine identity. [15]

I argue that Seinfeld exists as part of a social discourse on the changing male role in American society. In this sense, like men's studies, it can be read as another axis of the contemporary response to pressures on the masculine role. As I have previously suggested, Seinfeld is a show about something. It is therefore necessary to examine the social structures underpinning the satirical humor. Clearly, the point-of-view presented is motivated by male concerns. Seinfeld self-consciously locates itself within a particular historical discourse and comments upon its own construction. That is, Seinfeld is aware of its role in the discourse, and does say something about it. If Jerry and George perceive themselves as victims of a loss of power and a struggle to prove they are "men," Seinfeld suggests that there is something irrational about the manner in which they attempt to do this. We laugh at the plight of the nineties male because it is a recognizable plight—it says something to us about the society we live in.

Just Good Friends?

The institution of male friendship is central to Seinfeld, focusing the progression of the plot, and instigating much of the humor. Jerry's and George's bond is satirized in its insularity—when it comes down to it they find the most fulfillment with each other. A suppressed homoerotic current, always quickly expelled, characterizes many moments in their relationship, and this, as I later argue, is most explicitly suggested in both "The Outing" and "The Cartoon." Both their male friendships and random encounters with other male characters also feature moments of homoeroticism. In "The Boyfriend," for example, Jerry finds himself relating to another man as if he were his "boyfriend." In "The Outing" George visits his mother in hospital to find himself distracted and aroused when he witnesses patient "Scott" having a sponge bath in the next bed.

Despite these incidents, the central tenet of Jerry's and George's friendship is a homosocial, not a homosexual bond. Homosociality functions to reinforce manhood in men through the relationships they form with other men. As Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick defines it, the homosocial bond is distinct from homosexuality, and encompasses the qualities of "male friendship, mentorship, entitlement, rivalry"—qualities that define male relationships as competitive and insular (1). The homosocial order is a space defined by its traditional exclusivity to men, such as the workplace, the battlefield, and the sports arena, or any other space where men come together to reinforce their own interests. I would add that homosociality is predicated upon the repetition of "sameness"—the clear delineation and separation of the masculine and feminine—and that it is fundamentally threatened by the presence of women. [16]

In his analysis of the homosocial order in David Mamet's plays, David Radavich argues that male friendship is primarily about the pursuit of power between men (123). Women, as a sexual conquest, are often at the center of the competition in Mamet's world. Leslie Fiedler offers another view of homosociality, identifying the male bond as an "innocent," non-sexual substitute for a relationship with a woman. Women, Fiedler argues, have no place in this Edenic mythology, and are "felt to be a feared and forbidden other" (348). The homosocial bond between Jerry and George ultimately informs the way they enter into relationships with women. It is a bond that requires the absence of women and the feminine, and it is this absence that plays a significant role in the articulation of masculine identity.

Clearly, the presence of Elaine as a core member of the Seinfeld group problematizes our understanding of the insularity and restrictions of the homosocial order. If we acknowledge that the homosocial order requires a framework of sameness, Elaine's presence is not so threatening—the men see something akin to themselves in her character, something more masculine. She is primarily welcome because of her past relationship with Jerry, and even though George is a little afraid of her, Jerry's acceptance of her removes a certain amount of suspicion of the unknown from her feminine identity.

Unlike Susan Ross, who ultimately embodies the restrictions of marriage for George, and therefore a real threat to the male friendships on the show, Elaine does not require that the structure of homosociality change to accommodate traditional feminine codes. In contrast to Susan, Elaine personifies a "new" woman, freed from traditional constraints and embodying so-called masculine characteristics. She is just as weak and shallow as the men are. She can be aggressive and confrontational, and often challenges the male characters' sense of power and the stability of their self-images. Despite the occasional sexual indiscretion with Jerry to save the friendship, she is mostly a non-sexual entity to the men, acting within the satirical mode as an audience to their fears and anxieties. Within the homosocial order, Elaine functions as a foil to exaggerate the men's foolishness further. She illuminates the crisis of the contemporary man and the divide existing between him and this intimidating "new" woman.

Within the dictates of their homosocial setting, Jerry and George realize that to be a man, one must play at being a man and must be perceived by other men to possess an unquestionable manhood. In this sense, homosociality becomes an unstable dramatization of masculinity, performed over and over again. Women play an ancillary role in this performance. In "The Wink," Jerry is concerned that Elaine's cousin Holly, whom he is dating, may question his manhood because at lunch he has had a mere salad to her porterhouse steak, something he worries might be perceived "like a quiche thing." To stay in her favor, he fakes a love for mutton.

Jerry takes this preoccupation with perception to a more extreme level, however, when proving his manhood to another man, as occurs in "The Wigmaster." In this episode George discovers that his car is being used as a brothel by the attendants of a cheap parking lot, and Kramer, decked out in the title costume from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat, is arrested for being a pimp. Displays of sexuality and mistaken identities shape this episode. Jerry goes shopping for a crested blazer and unsure whether to buy it, returns with Elaine, whom the salesman, Craig, asks out on a date. Jerry is distressed because Craig has presumed to know the nature of his relationship with Elaine. How did he know they were not dating? Jerry finds Craig's presumptuous labeling "very emasculating!" Later, this dismissal of Jerry as a "sexual partner" recurs, but with a significant twist: the dismissal occurs in a homosexual, rather than a heterosexual, context. Jerry is drinking champagne coulis with Ethan, the wigmaster for the Broadway production of Joseph, and another man asks Ethan out. Again, Jerry is perturbed: "How do you know he's not with me? ... It's very emasculating!" Jerry is not concerned with being mistaken for a homosexual, but rather that he has not been seen as man enough to fit the role of Ethan's boyfriend. Jerry feels anxious about the perception of his manhood because he is separated from the reassurance of the homosocial order. In these scenarios Jerry's manhood comes under pressure from other men who have seen him and deemed him lacking in some essential quality.

But whatever Jerry's concerns, George is the most insecure about his manhood, living in fear of it not being recognized and approved by other men. George's predicament, always exaggerated, is at the center of Seinfeld's social critique. In "The Jimmy," a character's confusing references to himself in the third-person lead to Elaine dating him without even knowing it. She believes that when "Jimmy" refers to Jimmy he means another man from the gym, and that it is this man who is interested in her: "Jimmy likes Elaine." George, of course, does not assist in clarifying the confusion. Elaine asks him if he is familiar with a particularly good-looking man at their gym, the man she thinks is "Jimmy" but is really called Hank. George squirms under the weight of her question, and she remarks, "just admitting that another man is handsome doesn't necessarily make you a homosexual." George responds that "it doesn't help."

The suspicion that admitting this man is handsome will compromise his manhood is attached to George's fear of expulsion from a homosocial order defined by, and demanding, heterosexuality. Evaluating each other's attractiveness is not something George and Jerry do. This inclination toward the homoerotic and homosexual would weaken the bonds they have established—bonds based on clearly delineated rules and behavior. These are best explained as those reinforcing and approving heterosexuality as the dominant and accepted model of masculinity in their world. If George were to admit, for example, that Jerry or Kramer was an attractive man (not necessarily that he is attracted to them), the world would collapse and would need substantial rebuilding. He requires a world that reminds him, and anyone watching, that they are just good friends.

"The Free-Love Buffet": Love and Marriage Seinfeld Style

The seventh season episode, "The Engagement," illustrates how to approach marriage with the most inappropriate partner, solely for the purpose of personal reinforcement. It takes a simple premise—an engagement—to a level that reveals it as a ludicrous expression of manhood. When George proposes marriage to Susan to prove to Jerry that he is a man, he does so to uphold his part of an informal "pact" with Jerry. But George finds himself stuck in an arrangement that Jerry is not willing to make. The episode's opening scene sets the tone for George's feelings of powerlessness and lack of confidence in his masculinity. The scene also makes clear the extent to which the very idea of manhood is not intrinsic to men, but rather something to be sought, won, and preserved.

George is playing chess with an unnamed woman who defeats him after he tells her that "the Queen is old-fashioned. Likes to stay home, cook, take care of a man, make sure he feels good." Symbolically, the Queen is the piece that defeats him, and George tells the woman that he cannot see her any more. He later tells Jerry that he has a problem sleeping with a woman who beats him at chess. With one word—checkmate—she has emasculated George, and the only way to immediately reassert his manhood is to remove this assertive and victorious woman from his life. His manhood requires the absence of this model of femininity.

"The Engagement" suggests for the first time that the male buddy ritual that Jerry and George repeatedly enact—hanging out at Jerry's apartment, lunching at the coffee shop—is going stale. The next scene sees Jerry exhibiting his frustration at this routine and wondering if there is anything better out there. He wonders what they are doing with their lives? Jerry unknowingly critiques their homosocial bond when he berates George for always seeking his approval. They agree that they are not men but immature children incapable of forming adult relationships. George's speech about the Queen is indicative of his own 1950s idealization of womanhood. These are the qualities he seeks, and neither he, nor Jerry, is willing to compromise these pre-feminist ideals for the reality of the 1990s woman. Momentarily recognizing their ineptitude in contemporary relationships, they enter into a pact to become "new" men. This coffee shop pact sees the two men shake hands and vow to make some changes with their lives, to do what they believe will prove they are adults, although neither of them can say what that is to the other. George, however, is the only one who takes the pact seriously.

A homosocial system of rejection and approval is being enacted here between Jerry and George. George wants Jerry to think he is a man, to see that if he asks him to, he will change. Kramer, on the other hand, is outside the immediate affirmation of masculine values. His character challenges what is presented as the right thing to do. When Jerry tells him about his talk with George, Kramer informs him that change is useless, and that there is nothing more to life. His philosophy argues that the institutions of marriage and family are restrictive and deathly to the American man's freedom. They are, in effect, prisons in which a man does time. Kramer fears the disruption a wife would cause to his established routine and to his buddy system. She will want to talk to him and therefore end his fantasy life of eternal dinners in front of the television. In a typical satirical mode we are presented with another extreme position in Kramer's view. It is the possibility of this entry of a restraining feminine presence into his homosocial domain that convinces Jerry the coffee shop pact is not for him.

George, on the other hand takes it seriously, and wants to take a blind leap into manhood and away from his life as Jerry's shadow. Equating manhood and adulthood with marriage, he runs off through a flock of seagulls—a motif of change recurring throughout the series—to ask former girlfriend Susan Ross, an NBC executive, to marry him. George eagerly wants to share with Jerry the news of his engagement. After all, he has only done this to prove to Jerry that he is man enough, believing that Jerry was doing the same. When he enters the homosocial space of Jerry's apartment and announces his distorted view of masculinity, the equation is clear: "I'm a man, Jerry. I'm a man!" The cycle of rejection and approval is in motion: George is reproached by Jerry for not being a man and doing his own thing, and subsequently seeks affirmation by performing a manly act. George spent two hours convincing Susan to marry him. He does not love her or want to spend the rest of his life with her. Susan is an object in the competition between men to prove their manhood to each other. [17] Susan is not George's prize—what he believes he has won is his manhood in the eyes of other men. George has seized the most extreme dramatization of masculinity for the benefit of other men, and Susan's eventual death in a later episode, shows us the dangerous nature of his foolish behavior.

Immediately, George's world begins to change. Susan's presence disrupts the comfort and predictability of the homosocial order. The bond between Jerry and George can sustain girlfriends, but not future wives. By entering his life in the latter, incompatible role, Susan is asking George to remodel the homosocial order to encompass her, and what are presented as her very female needs. Susan believes in communicating with her partner, but George believes some things are better not shared. This is evident in "The Secret Code" when he refuses to disclose his ATM number to his future wife because he fears he will lose his individuality. This folly gets George into more trouble than he bargained for when he ends up having dinner with Elaine's boss Mr. Peterman, and accompanying him to the death-bed of his dying mother.

In "The Engagement" a further example illustrates the extent to which the feminine threatens the familiar stability of the masculine world. Jerry asks George to see the latest blockbuster film, Firestorm, the kind of film all men are supposed to love. Susan, however, wants to see the latest Meryl Streep tear-jerker, The Muted Heart, the kind of film all women are supposed to love. George goes to the movies with Susan and sees Jerry having a great time with someone else. At home that night George wants to watch the Yankees, Susan, an episode of Mad About You. As "The Engagement" closes with strains of the Mad About You theme song, Susan is content, blissful; George looks as of he has made the biggest mistake of his life. The irony, of course, is that George has selected and invited her to do this through his own mistake. He does not see that Susan is a real person, not simply a vehicle through which he can achieve manhood.

Worlds collide, and Susan's presence throughout the duration of their engagement calls into question both George's idea of independent manhood and the sanctity of the homosocial environment at Jerry's. George feels the freedom of single-life slipping away from him. The homosocial order has been established so that the opposing worlds of friendship and love cannot coexist—worlds presented as masculine and feminine respectively, and requiring separation from one another in order to exist. In "The Pool Guy," George becomes concerned with the blossoming friendship between Susan and Elaine. In this episode Elaine feels momentarily restricted by her male friends, and worries that she has no female friends left. When she invites Susan out and they begin spending time together, Kramer foresees that this will lead to the demise of George's sanctuary at Jerry's. George is split in two between the worlds of homosocial friendship and imminent marriage, and he will do anything humanly possible to keep them separate. The stability of his known identity requires it.

In a telling line to thepool guy, Jerry tells Ramone, who is attempting to insinuate himself into his world, "I actually only have three friends. I can't handle any more." Like George, Jerry's idea of himself cannot handle the changes required in adjusting the homosocial order. Both he and George have established a routine with which they are quite happy to continue. Later, in "The Pool Guy," George witnesses Susan sitting at his coffee shop, with his friends, and realizes just what he has lost by getting engaged. Symbolically, there is no room for him in the booth, and he goes across the street to sit alone at an alternate restaurant, "Reggie's." His world is now unknown to him, and he cannot face the changes occurring so he removes himself from the scene. There are two George's, "Relationship George" and "Independent George," and the former is killing the latter. As he most dramatically exclaims: "A George divided against itself cannot stand!" Once the boundaries blur and the two worlds become one indefinable world, George's understanding of himself—and ultimately his manhood, no longer exclusively tied to the homosociality of his relationship with Jerry—ceases to make sense. Susan has trespassed into a space never designed to sustain her presence, revealing it to be an inflexible entity. She has called the primacy of the homosocial order into question, and with it the very foundation upon which her fiancé calls himself a man.

"Not that there's anything wrong with that!"

Seinfeld presents the perfect "marriage" in Jerry and George. Relationships do work on this show if they are between men. George discovers that he can never have with Susan what he has with Jerry. She only serves to heighten his masculine anxiety because she requires things to change. With Jerry, everything is already in place. To serve their own needs they have established the rules and boundaries of their friendship. In doing this, the homosocial bond between them ultimately prevents them from committing to, and maintaining, relationships with a women. Most interesting is how Seinfeld exposes this bond as supporting adolescent and limited ideas about contemporary women. That Jerry and George see women as disposable is made evident by the presence of a new woman in nearly every episode. It is easier to find petty faults with these women and to get rid of them, than it is to look at their own shortcomings. Women are also presented as a means for personal gain. In "The Boyfriend," George dates his unemployment benefits officer's daughter to ensure the benefits keep coming.

The very structure of the homosocial bond requires Jerry and George to view women as a disruptive force in their lives. "The Outing" is the episode that most explicitly suggests the ideal nature of Jerry's and George's relationship and how it also appears as such to outsiders. Jerry, George, and Elaine are at the coffee shop. Jerry gets up to make a phone call to Sharon Leonard, a student reporter from NYU who is late for a scheduled interview with him. He returns to the booth and Elaine points out to both he and George that the woman sitting behind them is listening to their conversation about who the ugliest world leader is. So Elaine decides to really give the woman something to listen to: "You know, just because you two are homosexuals, so what? I mean you should just come out of the closet and be openly gay already." George, curiously, is happy to play along: "You know you'll always be the only man I'll ever love." Jerry is a little less comfortable. This is too close to home for him. People often think he is gay, because he has three of the allegedly obvious signs: he is single, thin and neat. Unknown to Jerry, the eavesdropper is Sharon; unknown to Sharon, one of these newly "outed" men is Jerry Seinfeld. She gets up and leaves Jerry a message, saying she got to the diner late and believes that she missed him and maybe they could catch up later.

Jerry and Sharon arrange another interview in the afternoon at his apartment. It is here that she realizes Jerry is the man whose conversation she overheard earlier and that he and George, who is staying for the interview, are a "couple." In addition, and more significantly, her beliefs about Jerry's homosexuality are confirmed by the manner in which he and George interact. George becomes sensitive over Jerry's dislike of his new shirt. They argue over fruit. The connotations of this familiarity are magnified by a series of misunderstandings occurring while Sharon is present. George tells Sharon, for example, that he and Jerry met in a gym locker room, but fails to tell her that it was actually in high school. After Jerry and George realize that Sharon was the woman from the coffee shop and that she thinks they are gay—"not that there's anything wrong with that!"—Kramer makes it impossible for them to convince her otherwise when he bursts in and announces: "Let's go! I thought we were going to take a steam!"

The joke continues when Jerry receives two birthday presents connoting gay culture—a ticket to see Guys and Dolls, "a lavish Broadway musical," and The Collected Works of Bette Midler. Meanwhile, Sharon is unconvinced of Jerry's heterosexuality and has played up that angle in her article. Worse still, her article is picked up by The New York Post, announcing to the world that "within the confines of his fastidious bachelor pad, Seinfeld and Costanza bicker over the cleanliness of a piece of fruit like an old married couple." George is referred to as Jerry's "long-time companion," and for all intents and purposes, this is in fact the image they present to others. In all the episodes of Seinfeld we never see Jerry and George behaving as intimately and unselfconsciously with a woman as they do when together. For them, this provocative interaction seems normal because it is the behavior they have approved for each other within the order. When an outsider enters and witnesses it, as Sharon does here, it becomes something else, measured outside the rules of homosociality. The insularity of the codes of their friendship is derided here to show the extent to which they have forgotten the signification of such behavior in the "real" world.

Jerry's and George's inseparability is a manifestation of the comfort zone surrounding them in the absence of more complicated entanglements with women. It also illustrates their unwillingness to adapt to anything unknown. The narcissistic love promoted by the homosocial order frees them from the needs of the "new" woman and from ever having to relate to anyone not like themselves. This is further evident in "The Boyfriend," when Jerry becomes involved in an ambiguous attachment with real-life baseball legend Keith Hernandez. There is a homoerotic tone to this friendship apparent when Jerry starts to think possessively of Keith as his "boyfriend"— he feels the same disappointment and confusion he would if Keith were a woman. Jerry wonders if he is obliged to help Keith move house after only one "date"? The episodes plot reads like a love triangle, with Jerry losing Keith to Elaine after the ball player breaks a "date" with Jerry to see her. "The Boyfriend" enacts some of the dilemmas men face in their relationships with women but does not have to offer solutions because Keith is a man. Perhaps Jerry assigns the role of "boyfriend" to Keith in the hope that it will be less complicated. It is a friendship that also indicates these men are finding something together, in the sameness of other men, that women cannot provide. These relationships often based on sports or other "manly" events, affirm their manhood without compromising or reorganizing the homosocial order.

These male substitutes for women reappear in later episodes such as "The Invitations" and "The Cartoon." "The Invitations" closes the seventh season with George's compulsion for cheapness killing his fiancée: he insists on the most frugal option for their wedding invitations and the glue on the envelopes turns out to be toxic. This is the freedom George had been hoping for, and he is callously relieved. Jerry, however, by the end of this episode has fulfilled his part of the pact from the season opener, "The Engagement," and is engaged to Jeannie. Jeannie, played by comedienne Janeane Garafolo, is a female version of Jerry. They both love cereal, he reads "Superman," she reads "Supergirl." Jerry's attraction to Jeannie is based on sameness. He does not see her as a woman, but as an unchallenging female version of everything he already knows. As he explains to Kramer: "I've been waiting for me to come along. And now I've swept myself off my feet!"

As he does with all women, Jerry begins to finds faults with Jeannie, and is in turn repulsed by how alike they really are. Caught within the conventions of male bonding, Jerry's "love" for Jeannie is satirized as a ridiculous fantasy, because he has fallen in love with himself. The sameness promised by this self-love is an effect of the male fear and anxiety impelling most of Jerry's actions. On this occasion, however, his rejection of a woman is also a repudiation of what he finds lacking in himself, qualities appearing more unpleasant because they are removed from the homosocial sphere.

In "The Cartoon" George dates Janet, a woman with an uncanny resemblance to a female Jerry. At first George is not conscious of the likeness, but is quickly troubled by the homoerotic implications of the relationship. Both he and Jerry are disturbed by Kramer's and Elaine's remarks and they remind themselves that they are not gay. The anxiety initiated by "The Outing" returns, and this time George must attack the problem directly. What perturbs him most is that his relationship with Janet is not about anything except her "nice face," a face that everyone thinks looks like Jerry's. George recognizes Jerry in Janet, and has assumed that this sameness will carry through to their relationship—he wonders to himself, can he have all he has with Jerry and sex too?

Similar to Jerry's attraction to Jeannie in "The Invitations," George has identified too closely with an image sustainable only within the bounds of homosociality. Janet is like Jerry, but in a form and a world George has never had to relate to Jerry. Here, George has no established codes with which to relate to Janet, and she therefore becomes a problematic embodiment of his largely unacknowledged male fears and desires. As Kramer explains, George is "all-mixed up in a perverse sexual amalgam of his best friend and girl friend." Unknown to her, she has called his masculinity into question. George needs a companion who affirms his masculinity and makes no demands on him to change. If only Janet could be more like Tony from the episode entitled "The Stall." In this episode Jerry labels Tony a "mimbo," the male equivalent of a bimbo, because of his classic good looks and insubstantial intellect. Tony excels at sports and outdoor activities providing George, who finds he is drawn to Tony, with the ideal opportunity for masculine approval through sporting feats.

Seinfeld is not the kind of show to advocate character development or growth. Jerry and George cannot move beyond their selfish and childish preoccupations. The show satirizes their peculiarities and succeeds in suggesting that as long as they continue returning to the homosocial bond the same inane behaviour will continue. Seinfeld does not promote homosociality as a solution to the masculinity crisis. Nor, does it advocate marriage as a solution to their form of adolescent manhood. Rather, it ultimately presents the relationship between Jerry and George as retarding their development as adults. They look to each other and seek a manhood based on isolating themselves from women. They are reluctant to adapt to whatever challenges women offer them, preferring to insulate themselves in the sameness of this routine. In satirizing this, Seinfeld suggests the folly in such an existence.

Conclusion

Wedding bells rang for Jerry and Jessica on December 25 1999. Television Jerry never made a similar commitment. Again, reports brought life and television together, one headline exclaiming: "Thin, Neat—and Married"(Who Weekly 13). Is this reminder of "The Outing" suggesting that Jerry cannot find lasting happiness with a woman? A Jerry separated from his friends is hard to fathom. The blurring of the lines between life and television acknowledges the persistent primacy of the homosocial bond between Jerry and George. Its centrality to the show's satirical premise causes the fusion of television and real Jerry so that we come to understand the Seinfeld world as Jerry Seinfeld's reality, believing that he also lives within the homosocial order.

Seinfeld presents a 'real' world—a reality exaggerated, yet recognizable as a vehicle for exploring the 'crisis' in American manhood. If we accept that Seinfeld satirizies a world in fact existing, it is also the world that the Jerry Seinfeld, as an American man, lives. We have seen the anxieties bringing Jerry and George together, and perhaps cannot imagine the absence of these fears in Jerry's relationship with Jessica. But Seinfeld clearly does not advocate the restrictive codes of homosociality as an ideal solution to the crisis of masculinity. The course of a successful relationship is the script Seinfeld never had the chance to write. From somewhere in the middle, as Jerry andGeorge negotiate their way through contemporary relationships, we see that they cannot be men or adults as long as they continue to insulate themselves from a realistic interaction with women. Seinfeld makes explicit that an alternative to this bond is required—a manhood and masculine identity shaped, and capable of functioning in a world where women inspire more than fear and anxiety.

Works Cited

Primary

"The Boyfriend," Seinfeld, writ. Larry David, and Larry Levin, dir. Tom Cherones, 12 Feb. 1992.

"The Cartoon," Seinfeld, writ. Bruce Eric Kaplan, dir. Andy Ackerman, 29 Jan. 1998.

"The Engagement," Seinfeld, writ. Larry David, dir. Andy Ackerman, 21 Sept. 1995.

"The Invitations," Seinfeld, writ. Larry David, dir. Andy Ackerman, 16 May 1996.

"The Jimmy," Seinfeld, writ. Gregg Kavet, and Andy Robin, dir. Andy Ackerman, 16 March 1995.

"The Outing," Seinfeld, writ. Larry Charles, dir. Tom Cherone, 11 Feb. 1993.

"The Pilot," Seinfeld, writ. Larry David, dir. Tom Cherones, 20 May 1993.

"The Pool Guy," Seinfeld, writ. David Mandel, dir. Andy Ackerman, 16 Nov. 1995.

"The Secret Code," Seinfeld, writ. Alec Berg, and Jeff Schaffer, dir. Andy Ackerman, 9 Nov. 1995.

"The Stall," Seinfeld, writ. Larry Charles, dir. Tom Cherones, 6 Jan. 1994.

"The Wigmaster," Seinfeld, writ. Spike Feresten, dir. Andy Ackerman, 4 April 1996.

"The Wink," Seinfeld, writ. Larry David, dir. Andy Ackerman, 12 Oct. 1995.

Secondary

Allan, Graham. Friendship: Developing a Sociological Perspective. Hertfordshire: Harvester Wheatsheaf, 1989.

Bly, Robert. Iron John: A Book About Men. Brisbane:

Element Books, 1990.

Brod, Harry, ed. The Making of Masculinities; The New Men's Studies. Boston: Allen & Unwin, 1987.

—-. "The New Men's Studies: From Feminist Theory to Gender Scholarship." Hypatia 2:1 (1987).

Cameron, Michael . "Seinfeld to Tie the Knot." Herald Sun 10 Nov. 1999.

Douglas, Ann. The Feminization of American Culture. New York: Avon Books, 1977.

Dubbert, Joe L. A Man's Place: Masculinity in Transition. Englewood, NJ: Prentice Hall, 1979.

Esler, Gavin. The United States of Anger: The People and the American Dream. London & New York: Penguin, 1997.

Fiedler, Leslie. Love and Death in the American Novel, 2ed. Normal, IL: Dalkey Press, 1997.

Filene, Peter G. Him/Her/Self: Sex Roles in Modern America, 1974, 2ed. Baltimore & London: John Hopkins UP, 1986.

Gerzon, Mark. A Choice of Heroes: The Changing Faces of American Manhood. Boston: Houghton & Mifflin, 1991.

Gliatto, Tom. "Jerry Engaged? Get Out!" Who Weekly 22 Nov. 1999: 66-72.

Hellman, John. American Myth and the Legacy of Vietnam. New York: Columbia UP, 1986.

Herald Sun. "Seinfeld Hitched at Last, No Joke." 27 Dec. 1999.

Jeffords, Susan. Hard Bodies: Hollywood Masculinity in the Reagan Era. New Brunswick: Rutgers UP, 1994.

—-. The Remasculinization of America: Gender and the Vietnam War. Bloomington: Indiana UP, 1989.

Joyrich, Lynne. Re-Visioning Reception: Television, Gender, and Postmodern Culture Bloomington & Indianapolis: Indiana UP, 1996.

Kaufman, Michael ed. Beyond Patriarchy: Essays by Men on Pleasure, Power and Change. New York: Oxford UP, 1987.

Kimmel, Michael, ed. Changing Men: New Directions in Research on Men and Masculinity Newbury Park, CA: Sage, 1987.

—-. Manhood in America: A Cultural History. New York: The Free Press, 1997.

—-. "The Contemporary 'Crisis' of Masculinity in Historical Perspective," in Harry Brod, ed. The Making of Masculinities: The New Men's Studies. Boston: Allen & Unwin, 1987.

O'Brien, Geoffrey. "Sein of the Times," The New York Review of Books 14 Aug. 1997.

Pleck, Joseph H. The Myth of Masculinity. Cambridge, MA & London: MIT P, 1981.

Radavich, David. "Man Among Men: David Mamet's Homosocial Order," in Peter F. Murphey, ed. Fictions of Masculinity: Crossing Cultures, Crossing Sexualities. New York & London: New York UP, 1994.

Rotundo, E. Anthony. American Manhood: Transformations in Masculinity from the Revolution to the Modern Era. New York: BasicBooks, 1993.

Samuelson, Robert J. The Good Life and its Discontents: The American Dream in the Age of Entitlement, 1945-1995. New York: Times Books, 1995.

Savran, David. Taking it Like a Man: White Masculinity, Masochism, and Contemporary American Culture. Princeton: Princeton UP, 1998.

Sedgwick, Eve Kosofsky. Between Men: English Literature and Male Homosocial Desire. New York: Columbia UP, 1985.

Simeauer, Jacqueline and David Carroll. Singles: The New American. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1982.

Who Weekly. "Thin, Neat—and Married." 10 January, 2000.

Wylie, Irvin G. The Self-Made Man in America: The Myth of Rags to Riches. New York: The Free Press, 1966.

Joanna L. Di Mattia is a doctoral student at the Centre for Women's Studies and Gender Research, Faculty of the Arts, Monash University (Melbourne, Australia). Joanna is researching the performative masquerade of the crisis in American masculinity as it is presented in contemporary American film. Her interest in popular American cultural forms has been a long one and this is her first publication.

Notes

1. Jerry and Jessica married on Christmas night 1999. See Herald Sun (7).

2. Who Weekly is the Australian equivalent of North America's People magazine.

3. For a similar approach see Michael Cameron, 30.

4. For an early analysis of the 'singles' phenomenon see Jacqueline Simeauer and David Carroll.

5. For early sociological analyses of the demands of American manhood see Joe L. Dubbert; Peter G. Filene; and Joseph H. Pleck.

6. For a cultural history of the ideals of American manhood see Mark Gerzon; Kimmel, Manhood in America; and E. Anthony Rotundo.

7. Irvin G. Wylie provides an historical perspective of the American cult of success, its promotion and development.

8. For an account of how the 'American dream' has failed Americans in the 1990s see Gavin Esler, and Robert J. Samuelson.

9. See also Esler who notes the irony of this discourse of white male victimization: "The idea is that black people, the real victims of generations of racial injustice, are now victimizing white folks" (82).

10. See Ann Douglas.

11. Kimmel, Manhood in America 141.

12. See Robert Bly, Iron John as an example of the tone of this "new man." Much of the writing on the men's movement has been dismissed for being anti-woman and for not attempting to reconstruct gender relations.

13. See especially the work of Susan Jeffords in this area.

14. See Harry Brod, "The New Men's Studies," 186.

15. The following provide excellent introductions to the concerns and causes of men's studies: Harry Brod, ed. The Making of Masculinities; Michael Kaufman, ed. Beyond Patriarchy, and Michael Kimmel, ed. Changing Men.

16. Sedgwick notes that "no element of the pattern can be understood outside of its relation to women and the gender system as a whole"(1).

17. Dubbert 4. He argues that men relate to each other in all arenas with an almost obsessive competitiveness.