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Consent and Control
Margot’s initial flirtation with Robert is more habit than intentional action. As a barista, she learned that flirting with men gave her some control over tips. On his next visit to the theatre, Robert asks for her number, and “surprising herself,” she gives it to him. A dynamic of consent and control is established at the outset of the story, and its development from this point till the story’s end is one reason that the story has evoked such strong responses among readers at a time when questions such as “What constitutes consent?” and “When is too late to withdraw consent?” are hotly debated.
Whether they relate by texting or in person, Margot and Robert attempt to exercise control. Margot struggles to sustain her option to consent to how Robert treats her, hindered by subtle power dynamics. Robert is a man, older, an employed homeowner. She doesn’t even have a car or a kitchen. Additionally, Margot has imbibed social expectations that require women who refuse sex to do it with “tact and gentleness” so as to placate a possibly vindictive man.
The story’s end suddenly shifts to Robert’s perspective and intensifies the threat of control that has been growing since Robert ordered Margot to “stop fooling” and come to the convenience store. Margot and Tamara watch as Robert’s texts light up Margot’s phone “like a campfire illuminating their faces,” a description that evokes the telling of horror stories. Although Robert hedges—“maybe I don’t have the right to ask”—not only does he ultimately assume this right, but he insists that Margot acknowledge it by explaining herself. He demands “Are you” three times before ordering her to answer him, and performs a final act of control by labeling her “Whore” because she refuses his interrogation.
Desire and Revulsion
“Cat Person” depicts sex as uncomfortable, awkward, and at times demeaning. Margot is sexually experienced and assumes that Robert is, too. She enjoys thinking that an intelligent man who engages in witty banter over text desires her. She is attracted to him, too, but caveats punctuate her descriptions of him. He’s tall, which she likes, but a bit heavy. He has an intriguing “lumberjack aura” but is also “dorky.” When she tells her college friends about him, they are put off, and Tamara urges her to dump him. She feels simultaneously the pull of desire and the suspicion that he is an unsuitable partner.
Their “shockingly bad” first kiss erodes Margot’s desire as Robert “practically pour[s] his tongue down her throat.” Applauding herself for knowing what a good kiss is like, Margot tamps down her revulsion rather than avoiding the sexual encounter that she later considers her worst life decision. Margot thinks about this decision “brightly,” an odd descriptor for someone to use while “crushed” under a man’s weight, yet it reflects her irrational belief that she asked to be treated this way, and that she finds the situation bizarre and inexplicable. She recoils upon seeing him undress, yet she also fakes pleasure when he touches her and fantasizes about his desire before he begins “flipping her over, pushing her around.” She represses absurd laughter when Robert struggles to maintain his erection and imagines saying that they should probably just kill themselves after this mingling of desire and disgust.
The Pressure to Be a “Nice Girl”
Whether intentionally or unconsciously, Margot accepts the social expectation that women should act to accommodate men’s desires and stroke men’s egos. Women’s self-denying, conciliatory actions maintain relationships, and women who refuse this role are criticized. This unexamined assumption explains why Margot explains away “red flags,” choosing to interpret Robert’s controlling actions—for example, his bossy behavior when he buys her snacks at the convenience store—as evidence that he cherishes her.
Margot’s behavior during the sexual encounter with Robert is also influenced by nice-girl expectations. She denies her strong desire to end the evening because she worries about looking like a tease, and she tries to hide her disgust and act “sexy” before resigning herself to being manipulated like a doll. Margot cannot let go of her need to be seen as a “nice girl” even after it becomes clear Robert intends to treat her as little more than a prop.
The nice girl persona also explains Margot’s actions after the date. Thinking about Robert makes her feel ill, and she entertains the possibility that he’ll go away. Her first attempts at break-up texts are full of apologies and excuses. She misses the “Robert she’d imagined” during the texts about Red Vines and cats. This realization makes her feel guilty, like a “mean girl,” as Robert’s texts become more “earnest.” Surely, she reasons, he isn’t a bad person—just a bad lover.
When Tamara sends the typo-filled text Margot can’t write—“Hi im not interested in you stop texting me”—Margot can hardly breathe for fear. She pictures Robert reading the text, “turning to glass,” and splintering. Yet all her conciliatory attempts to let Robert down gently do not protect her from Robert’s angry last word: “Whore.” Nice girl, mean girl—it doesn’t matter to Robert when he is denied what he wants.
