A church book sale in my Toronto neighborhood had The Official Politically Correct Dictionary and Handbook, the updated 1994 edition of Henry Beard and Christopher Cerf’s popular 1992 book. I always gravitate to books like that, to see whether there is in fact anything new in this world, and to remind myself that the (overly simplistic) answer is no. (See also the 1995 compendium, Debating Sexual Correctness. The #MeToo discourse existed prior to #MeToo, and indeed prior to discourse.) Also, we’re living through a kind of 1990s revival, fueled I suspect by nostalgia for pre-Covid, pre-9/11 times, or maybe just by teenagers’ timeless desire to dress the way everyone did 30 years earlier.
The front cover of the PC dictionary book shows a man, woman, and dog, affixed with labels such as “hair disadvantaged” (he’s bald), “woman of noncolor” (she’s white) and “nonhuman animal companion” (is shaggy dog). All three, though especially the woman and the dog, would not be out of place in a 2022 farmers market. (Again, cyclical fashions.)
The back cover bears a warning, “Be sensitive or else!,” with the follow-up, “Welcome to the nineties. But you better watch what you say. If you’re not politically correct, not even your pet—oops, your animal companion*—will love you anymore.” Beard’s author bio begins, “Although Henry Beard is a typical product of elitist educational institutions and a beneficiary of a number of negative action programs, he has struggled to overcome his many severe privileges.” Cerf’s: “Christopher Cerf is a melanin-impoverished, temporarily abled, straight, half-Anglo-, half-Jewish-American male.” Privilege disclaimers, in the early 1990s! I had to have it.
