Ugly People Can Sing, Too; and Other Lessons Susan Boyle Taught Us

So the middle-aged Scotswoman with Brillo-pad hair and Freida Kahlo brows didn't win "Britain's Got Talent," but she did win the hearts of American and Britain. And she didn't even turn into a beautiful swan at the end.

Many people, especially women, have watched her audition on You Tube, only to be moved to tears. When Boyle walked on stage, the audience jeered; the judges snickered. The set-up was perfect: an unattractive, middle-aged, thick-waisted woman with a double chin entering a competition dominated by nubile, radiant teens and twenty-somethings. The punchline was brilliant. It was all there: those crystal clear notes, the pristine voice, the unadulterated beauty that emerged from the ugliness that was both Fantine's desolate life and Boyle's unattractive features.

Judges and audiences alike were shocked that such a wondrous voice could come from the little Scottish spinster standing on stage before them. In a world obsessed with manufactured beauty and perpetual youth, virtue and usefulness stand diametrically opposed to extra weight, wrinkles, and crooked teeth. Everyone expected Boyle to fail miserably; and when she didn't, they were ashamed. As they rightfully should have been. Why didn't anyone in that auditorium think that Boyle had any talent to display when she walked out on stage? Was it her matronly dress? Her double chin? Her unkempt hair? Her age?

Boyle undoubtedly would have gone on to the next round of the competition for her performance of "I Dreamed A Dream" had she been twenty, slender, and pretty. But she wouldn't have been an international sensation. Why? Because if a young, stylishly-dressed woman with a trendy hairstyle had sang like that, we'd say she was talented, but not remarkable. We'd even give her the benefit of the doubt when she walked on stage, expecting her to wow us in some way. Because beauty equals competence, usefulness, talent, virtue. Had Boyle been anything less than extraordinary, she would have been booed off stage. Good wouldn't have been good enough; even "really good" wouldn't have cut it. Deep-seated social attitudes necessitated that she leave no room for doubt; she needed to be an atomic bomb. After all, no one expects an ugly woman to do anything heroic or creative. There's simply no place for these Quasimodos in today's plastic society.

Which is exactly why Boyle became such a sensation. "Look!" we cried. "It's ugly! But it's singing!" She didn't force us to confront our deep-seated misogynistic stereotypes that link a woman's beauty directly to her societal value when she opened her mouth and sang -- she knocked those stereotypes out cold.

Unfortunately, these misogynistic tendencies got back up and shook themselves off rather quickly. The judges' appraisals were more annoying than the offensive, drawn-out wolf whistle that greeted Susan when she walked on stage. "Well," they exclaimed, "we expected a middle-aged, unattractive woman like yourself to sound like hell and embarass yourself, so imagine how shocked we are that you actually have talent!" They didn't congratulate her voice (enough). Instead, they patted themselves on the backs for being moved by it. They praised Boyle for defying their expectations, when the hideousness of this episode is in the expectations themselves.