If you've turned on a television or read any news in the past couple of days, you have probably heard a lot about Vicki Kennedy, and every bit of it was good. Much was nearly worshipful. She is, of course, the new widow of Senator Ted Kennedy.
Maybe you saw her, during the many events marking her husband's death, shaking the hands of strangers and thanking them for their kind words about Ted. Perhaps you watched as she stepped in and out of the somber black limo, to the applause and appreciation of everyone around her. She did, indeed, seem gracious and dignified.
An ABC News headline was not atypical. "Ted Kennedy and Wife Vicki Kennedy: The Love Story," it said. Time magazine called Vicki "The Woman Who Saved Ted." Reporter Karen Tumulty said that "Ted Kennedy was redeemed in his third act, and that redemption couldn't have happened without Vicki...Giving his heart one more chance was probably the best decision Ted Kennedy ever made." A story in the New York Times was much the same. Here's that account of what happened soon after Ted met Vicki: "The next day Mr. Kennedy made what he - and everyone who knew him - would later view as the smartest move of his life. He called to ask Vicki out to dinner."
I have no reason to doubt that Ted and Vicki's relationship was truly wonderful. Still, I'm going to call the wave of tributes to Vicki and her marriage to Ted still another instance of matrimania.
When I use the matrimania label, I'm implying that there was something over-the-top and not quite even-handed about the coverage and the implications of the story that was being told.
Two things seemed particularly telling. The first piece of evidence for matrimania was not in what was said but what was unsaid. It was about who was ignored. Perhaps Vicki was indeed Ted's soul mate but she wasn't the first woman he vowed to love until the day he died. (Nor was Ted the first person Vicki vowed to honor through sickness and health.) Ted Kennedy's first wife was Joan Kennedy. She was at the memorial service, too, but got barely a word of recognition.
Huffington Post blogger Sophia Nelson said, "It could not have been easy to listen to another woman get all of the praise and kudos - and be called ‘the love of Ted's life' - after you were so loyal and true." That's a point worth making, but it is not the point I'm making.
By painting the more recent marriage so shiny and bright, and keeping the first marriage out of the headlines and the storylines, away from our minds and out of our awareness, the coverage made a statement about marriage, not just about Vicki and Ted's marriage. The statement it made was misleading and matrimaniacal.
It wasn't the first time. The New York Times quoted a long-time civil rights activist as saying about Vicki and Ted, "I don't think there has been a partnership and a love story in American politics like this one." But that's precisely what was said about Nancy and Ronald Reagan. Right after President Reagan died, the Nancy and Ronnie love story theme was repeated at least as often as today's accounts of Vicki and Ted. Reagan, too, had a previous marriage. That spouse, too, was mostly invisible, written out of the script of magical, transformative, redemptive marriage.
The second version of matrimania was the more customary overstatement. Remember, as if you didn't already know, or hadn't already heard it over and over again since the day Ted Kennedy died, that he was one of the most accomplished Senators in American history:
"Kennedy left his mark on almost every major piece of social legislation in his 47 years in the Senate, from a 1965 immigration bill that opened U.S. borders to Asians and Latin Americans to the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act this year that makes it easier for women and others to sue for wage discrimination.
Schoolteachers, gay-rights groups, unions, advocates for people with disabilities and others claimed him as the unrivaled champion of their causes.
‘Ted Kennedy was not just a senator for Massachusetts,' AFL-CIO President John Sweeney said. ‘He was our senator - a senator for working people, for poor people, for the old and the vulnerable.'
Yet, not one of these pieces of legislation - which would make a difference in the lives of millions of Americans during Ted Kennedy's lifetime, and will continue to do so for decades to come - would be described as "the best decision" or "the smartest move" Kennedy ever made. No, in the reigning matrimaniacal accounts, the best and the brightest actions are not those that bend the arc toward justice for generations of Americans. Those encomiums are reserved for the decision of one (previously married) man to marry one (previously married) woman.
[My collection of essays, Single with Attitude, includes sections on other media misrepresentations, such as "Media Splashes - Don't Get Soaked." The paperback is available here or from Amazon; there is a Kindle version, too.]
[To read other Living Single posts, click here.]
