The Heidi Chronicles

“Men don’t dance with desperate women.”

Susan’s youthful advice at the dance arises out of her anxiety about being chosen by a boy in the moment, but it shapes the way both Heidi and Susan relate to men for the next two decades. Susan rarely mentions relationships, but when she visits from Hollywood, she glibly tells Heidi about the older married boyfriend with whom she recently ended her affair. Heidi allows Scoop to treat her dismissively, and every other relationship she mentions is so unimportant that it stays offstage. The premise of this statement is misogynistic, since it reinforces the notion that men are interested only in women whom they can treat like prey, which is demonstrated by the relationships depicted throughout the play. In the end, Heidi decides that instead of not being desperate, she will stop focusing on romantic relationships altogether.

SUSAN: You know, as your best friend, I. must tell you frankly that. You’re going to get really messed up unless you learn to take men seriously.

HEIDI: Susan, there is absolutely no difference between you and me and him. Except that he can twist and smoke at the same time and we can get out of gym with an excuse called “I have my monthly.”

Susan’s confidence in her assertion is humorous, but Heidi’s response encompasses an idealistic view of gender that, while technically true, will face serious challenges in the real world. Heidi may be just as capable, intelligent, and career driven as any man, but she will face roadblocks set by gender expectations, just as Susan might have in this moment if she had chosen a time other than the “Ladies’ Choice” dance to pursue the boy she likes.

“No, don’t tell me. I want to remember you as you are.”

Peter’s first interaction with Heidi is silly and full of feigned theatrics, but this statement is reminiscent of the paintings that Heidi will one day teach. He quips that he doesn’t want her real name, because he wants to give her a name. Similarly, many of the women in portraiture are nameless, or their names aren’t well-known. Peter creates his own image of her in his gaze, and although he is joking, the moments when she struggles to live up to his image of her suggest that it wasn’t entirely a joke.

SCOOP: Why should you like me? I’m arrogant and difficult. But I’m very smart. So you’ll put up with me. […]

HEIDI: Actually, I was wondering what mothers teach their sons that they never bother to tell their daughters. […] I mean, why the fuck are you so confident?

Heidi recognizes the other facet of her 16-year-old assertion that men and women are no different from one another: Men and women are shaped differently from birth by the way they’re socialized. Scoop’s confidence and arrogance aren’t a reflection of his superiority but of the way he was taught that he’s superior. These ideas become internalized and are as significant in the way one functions as anything innate.

“I’m interested in the individual expression of the human soul. Content over form.”

Heidi defends her interest in becoming an art history scholar, which mirrors her idealized conceptions of the way sex and gender ought to function in an equitable society. In a contest of content, Heidi would defeat Scoop easily. In form, the world heavily favors Scoop. Notably, when Heidi becomes an art historian, her lectures reflect that form and content are very much inextricable and interrelated.

“Heidi, you either shave your legs or you don’t.”

Fran becomes impatient with Heidi’s fence-sitting in regard to feminism. Heidi is hesitant to commit to the meeting as anything but a visitor. She doesn’t want to label her scholarship as feminist-centered, opting instead to call her lens humanism, as if ignoring feminism will negate the gender inequality that surrounds them. Heidi wants to keep personal choices private, such as the state of her body hair, but this conversation recalls one of the mantras of second-wave feminism: The personal is political.

“Heidi, I’m gay. Okay? I sleep with Stanley Zinc, M.D. And my liberation, my pursuit of happiness, and the pursuit of happiness of other men like me is just as politically and socially valid as hanging a couple of goddamn paintings because they were signed by someone named Nancy, Gladys, or Gilda. And that is why I came to see you today. I am demanding your equal time and consideration.”

The women’s liberation movement arose at the same time as many other protest movements, and it was sometimes overshadowed by groups who felt that their need for liberation was more pressing. Peter’s demand to be seen as he is and considered by his best friend is certainly reasonable, but his characterization of feminism and Heidi’s quest for equitable representation is trivializing, not equal consideration. Later, Peter will call Heidi’s unhappiness a luxury because she isn’t dealing with the same suffering through the AIDS epidemic. Both fail to see the interconnectedness of their struggles and the way they facilitate each other’s oppression by focusing solely on their own.

“Heidi, I know somewhere you think my world view is small and personal and that yours resonates for generations to come.”

Peter is, at least partially, teasing Heidi, but one of the central conflicts of their relationship is their inability to see each other’s struggles as being as real as their own. To Heidi, Peter’s revelation of his sexuality is mainly significant due to consequences that are personal to her, because Peter is no longer an option as a potential romantic partner. She doesn’t view his coming out as a radical act, just as Peter doesn’t view her protest as radical.

“I’ve always known I wanted to be a mom. I guess that’s pretty embarrassing.”

Lisa’s desire for a traditional family is one of the reasons that Scoop decides to marry her—not because she wants children, but because she was raised to be a woman who will sacrifice herself for her husband and children. Although feminists have certainly always had children, Lisa’s admission is about dreaming of being a mother in the sense of the normative gender role.

“Heidi, don’t you hate that we can only get a reaction out of our men when they feel competitive? But maybe that’s why it’s so much fun to push them around.”

Lisa’s comment, said with a wink, echoes Susan’s earlier assertion that men don’t dance with desperate women. She suggests that men can be interested in only what they have to fight for and hunt. Scoop’s decision not to be with Heidi demonstrates that he only wants a competition he can win. Lisa goes off to dance with another man, but the man is Peter, who is gay and, therefore, not a real threat. The notion of competition is fun for him only if it’s a rigged game.

“Scoop, we’re out of school. We’re in life. You don’t have to grade everything.”

Scoop’s insistence on assigning grades to everyone and everything shows that he doesn’t view his life and relationships as quality experiences, but as quantifiable points that mean he is winning or losing. Lisa is a successful illustrator for children’s books, which has all the hallmarks of a traditionally feminine career. It’s artistic, child-centered, and is the type of work one would typically do from home. Her success in this realm doesn’t threaten to overtake his. However, Heidi points out that his notion of grading is childish, especially when used to make major life decisions.

“There is something uniquely female about these paintings. And I’m not referring to their lovely qualities, delicate techniques, or overall charm. Oh, please! What strikes me is that both ladies seem slightly removed from the occasions at hand. They appear to watch closely and ease the way for the others to join in. I suppose it’s really not unlike being an art historian. In other words, being neither the painter nor the casual observer, but a highly informed spectator.”

Heidi identifies a commonality in the portraits of women by women painters that she teaches, which is the way the women are sidelined in their own lives. Not only have the women who painted the portraits been marginalized by history, but the women depicted are watching and facilitating. They are expected to devote their lives to the care and concerns of others rather than their own creative pursuits, much as Heidi has devoted her scholarship to the creative work of others, although her focus is on highlighting these forgotten women.

“Heidi, I know some of those Hollywood people can be pretty dreadful, but if I don’t do it, someone who cares a lot less will.”

Susan looks to Heidi for permission to step into the male-dominated world of Hollywood, rationalizing that she can be a feminist ally from within the system. Of course, to survive in the patriarchal world of filmmaking, Susan changes herself and essentially abandons the idea of feminism, illustrating the flaws in the notion of working from within. Earlier, Susan similarly justified her decision to accept a position on the law review rather than starting a women’s law journal. The patriarchal system is powerful, and it is much easier to be absorbed from within than to fight.

“Susie, what about him? […] I like men. But they’re really not very nice.”

Betsy, one of Lisa’s friends, is participating in the surreptitious discussion at Lisa’s baby shower about Scoop’s blatant cheating. Her comment illuminates the way it’s easier to blame the other woman than the cheating husband, because blaming the man makes it harder to rationalize allowing him to stay. Betsy presents one of the central conundrums of straight relationships within a patriarchal society: She wants a man for a partner, but sexist social structures empower men to be cruel when they choose to be with minimal consequences.

“April says the further out you can take your sexuality, the better. Our audiences enjoy a little controversy with their coffee.”

Peter is shocked and offended by Denise’s direction that he offer his sexuality as a sideshow for the consumption of a television audience. As one of the most respected pediatricians in the city, he is caught off guard by the expectation that just because he is gay, his gayness should be visible in stereotypical ways. There is no time to react between Denise’s request and the start of the show, so Peter inserts small moments of campiness that seem odd and out-of-place. This scene demonstrates that the larger issue of stereotypical gender roles is even more complex than the play’s central questions about the roles and expectations of women. As women speak more openly about the oppression of gendered stereotypes, stereotypes of homosexuality are still alive and well, and exhibiting traits that mark Peter as stereotypically gay is still taboo enough to arouse a level of controversy when displayed on live television.

“There’s a line in a Ferlinghetti poem: ‘And I am awaiting the rebirth of Wonder.’ I think we’re all awaiting a rebirth of wonder.”

When Scoop quotes Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s 1958 poem “I am Waiting” on the air during their segment on Good Morning, New York, Peter automatically questions his meaning, obliquely calling out Scoop for being pretentious, which he is. The poem repeats over and over that the writer is waiting for war and injustice to stop, for the promise of America to be fulfilled, and for the rebirth of wonder as opposed to tired cynicism. But waiting is a passive act, one that is viable for a white, straight, rich, cisgender man in a traditional family structure and a successful career. For Peter, and for the protest movements that arose in the 1950s and 1960s, a bland hope for change is shallow to those who are actively fighting and protesting for issues that have life-and-death stakes for those who fight. Wonder is a luxury for the naïve. 

SCOOP: Peter, do people like you ever wonder what it’s all for?

PETER: People like you run the world. You decide what it’s all for.

Scoop’s musing about the purpose of life and his self-reported softening with the births of his children reveal his privilege as well as his ignorance of it. Throughout the play, Scoop drives for maximum success and privilege. He assigns grades to everything in order to quantify his wins. He also cheats on his wife rather than cultivating the family that would, theoretically, make his work worth it, and now he wonders about the point of his drive and ambition. He mildly expresses envy of Peter’s continued relationship with Heidi, wishing that he had built a friendship with both of them. But Peter, who is also professionally successful and has been constructing a family of close friends, is still fighting for his right—and the rights of his loved ones—to exist, particularly as a doctor on the cusp of the AIDS crisis.

HEIDI: Susie, do you ever think that what makes you a person is also what keeps you from being a person?

SUSAN: I’m sorry, honey, but you’re too deep for me. By now I’ve been so many people, I don’t know who I am. And I don’t care.

Over the course of the play, Heidi tries to find herself and determine who she is as a person. In a sense, she mirrors Scoop’s questioning about the purpose of humanity, because, like Scoop, she created her identity through her work, which feminism allows her the agency to do. Heidi does great things that will leave her mark on her profession, and possibly on the art world in general, but she also sidelined personal relationships in order to do it. Scoop had the option to marry Heidi and be faithful to her as a woman he could love as his equal without sacrificing his career, but Heidi doesn’t have the same choices, and she’s wondering if her hard-won role as a career woman stops her from being a person who is allowed to have human needs. Susan, on the other hand, adapts to each situation and overhauls her sense of self with each opportunity. She sees feminism as a phase in her life, and if she is personally discontent, she buries the feeling deep under her endless pursuit of success.

“Well, like, a lot of women your age are very unhappy. Unfulfilled, frightened of growing old alone.”

Denise voices the fearmongering predictions that are thrown at feminists to warn them against prioritizing their career. She suggests that the women of the next decade—late baby boomers approaching the border of Generation X—found the solution to this problem by having their children early and then pursuing careers afterward. The notion that better timing will solve the problem of juggling multiple priorities is wishful thinking on her part as long as women are still expected to maintain the home and raise the children while pursuing a career. Denise’s comment is an attempt to distance herself from what she views as the mistakes of the older cohort, rather than acknowledging that the pioneers of feminism made choices and sacrifices, not mistakes.

“I don’t blame the ladies in the locker room for how I feel. I don’t blame any of us. We’re all concerned, intelligent, good women. Pauses. It’s just that I feel stranded. And I thought the whole point was that we wouldn’t feel stranded. I thought the point was that we were all in this together.”

Heidi realizes that she is unhappy because she feels so alienated from other women that simply tripping in front of them in the locker room makes her feel humiliated. She recognizes that she has been too jealous of their visible successes that are different from hers, that she has seen them as competition instead of allies. Heidi’s only consistent friends in the play are Scoop, Peter, and Susan, all of whom talk over her when she needs emotional support and pursue their own interests above all. Heidi’s unhappiness is about her lack of family, which requires her to discover that she can make her own family in any shape she wants.

“Did you know that the first section is Heidi’s year of travel and learning, and the second is Heidi uses what she knows? How will you use what you know, Heidi?”

Peter is sardonic and infantilizing by comparing Heidi to the fictional child by the same name, but he provides a simple restatement of her seemingly overwhelming struggle. Everything in her life has been about travel and learning, and the final piece of her travel and learning puzzle seems to be the recognition that something is still missing in her life. Heidi is prepared to emulate Susan by dropping everything, including herself, and starting again somewhere new, but Peter helps her see that she has one more lesson to learn, which is that her friends can be her family. She can use what she knows by embracing her lifelong friendships as just as fulfilling and significant as any romantic relationship and by building her family from what she has already cultivated.

PETER: You see, my world gets narrower and narrower. A person has only so many close friends. And in our lives, our friends are our families. I’m actually quite hurt you don’t understand that. I’m very sorry you don’t find that comforting.

HEIDI: There is no one precious to me in the way you are.

Peter and Heidi’s friendship has endured for decades, including rises and the falls in the distance between them. Heidi voices her recognition that Peter is the most important person in the world to her, but she needs Peter to help her make the connection that he made long ago out of necessity. Peter refers to LGBTQ+ communities’ creation of families made of friends due to the need for places to come together, be themselves, and love each other. With the rise of the AIDS crisis, these families became even more tight-knit as members became caretakers for other members who were marginalized by the medical system. Heidi is outside looking in, much like the portraits she studies, and Peter reminds her that the door has always been open.

“I want to know you all my life. If we can’t marry, let’s be great friends.”

As Heidi and Peter fall into an approximation of the scene, over 20 years ago, when they first met and became friends, Heidi repeats the line that would turn out to foreshadow the nature of their relationship. For nearly ten years, Peter was closeted with Heidi, and Heidi considered him a potential future romantic partner. She feels the loss of this potential when he tells her that he’s gay. She didn’t know at the dance that they could never marry, but now she reaffirms her desire to be his lifelong close friend and value him as much as she would have if they had married.