A plea for manliness

In the aftermath of Big Man on Campus, it is intriguing to go back a half century, before Frank Sinatra became the man's man par excellence. When manliness was a concept that still resonated, Humphrey Bogart was the paragon to which American boys would aspire.\nAlas, no more. Traditional mores have been swept away, whereby the egotistical male can have sex without gentlemanly commitment, is deemed a "homebody" rather than "idle" for not working, and is viewed a "metrosexual" rather than a wimp for spending more time in front of the mirror than his girlfriend. Earlier generations loathed a man who would not work, more so if he sent his wife out to be the breadwinner in his stead. We view it as a "lifestyle choice." \nThis decline in virility has come at a high price. As Allan Bloom wrote in "The Closing of the American Mind," it is not mere happenstance that the self has become "the modern substitute for the soul."\nHealthy examples of manhood like Bogart were replaced by the likes of Ashton Kutcher. But it is not too late to reconstruct the place for manliness in our public life. Toward this end, we could do worse than to revisit Bogart's role in "Casablanca." \nBogart is Rick Blaine, an expatriate American saloonkeeper polishing a hard-bitten persona in French-held Morocco during World War II. In the opening scene, wallowing in the self-pity induced by his ex-lover, Ilsa (Ingrid Bergman), he claims to "stick his neck out for no one." \nBut his true colors emerge when a Nazi officer inquires about the hardiness of New York City, sections of which Blaine warns, "I wouldn't advise you to try to invade." Upon Ilsa's arrival in Casablanca with her husband, Victor Laszlo, Blaine is reminded that shirking manly valor is never tenable, much less desirable. Confirming there is no refuge from politics, Blaine permits Laszlo to silence a party of overbearing Nazi officers in his café by rallying the band to play "La Marseillaise." \nA sentimentalist at heart, Blaine ultimately chooses love of virtue over the woman he loves because he knows it is the only honorable course of action. This is generally regarded as a depressing end, but I don't think it is. The moral, once so clear and now so far removed, is that one can be just as virtuous as he wishes if only he is prepared to "stick his neck out" for a great cause. I choose the word "virtue" consciously, because its root is "vir," from the Latin for "manliness." This is something feminist critics should ponder.\nThe reason Rick's manly poise might seem outdated is because for so long it has been equated with unmanly machismo. But if young men are to acquire manhood, the time-honored practice of instilling manliness must be revived. In this pursuit, Blaine's example will kindle hope for those slightly reckless boys who think themselves men enough to emulate him. No shame in that, I hardly need add. I am one of them.