The boil about Susan Boyle

So, Susan Boyle came in second on Saturday night in the finals for Britain’s Got Talent.

There she was, decked out in a silvery full-length gown, her hair gently coloured, eyebrows plucked a wee bit, singing the song that got her noticed in the first place, “I’ve Got a Dream” from the musical, Les Miserables.

But she didn’t win. In fact, I didn’t think her singing was a good as it was the first time she took the stage and shocked the world.

Or, was that because what made us marvel when she first appeared in the contest was the beauty of her voice compared to her plain appearance? It had been, as the doll-like judge, Amanda, said, ” a wake-up call.” Everyone was snickering at Susan, as she stood there, dressed in her creamy mother-of-the-bride-type frock with dark stocking and, ouch!, white shoes.  But then she sang, and her voice was, well, blond and svelte and smooth.

She was even called a spinster – which has to be the most ancient of words for a woman who is unmarried. That she claimed to never have been kissed only ramped up the interest. We all evaluate each other on our so-called hotness, our desirability in the romantic realm.

Appearance is everything. Isn’t it? Would you have fallen in love with Susan if she appeared for a date and talked about her cat, Pebbles, and her small Scottish town and the fact that she likes to sing in the choir at church?

Didn’t think so.

Even when we get a wake-up call like this, it only lasts for so long. Maybe the voting audience that determined her fate as #2 got used to the whole, strange dichotomy of her appearance as contrasted to her singing voice, and no longer felt so infatuated by the whole story.

I don’t think she deserved to win. As I said, her singing was not as good as it had been. The pressure she was under can’t have been easy. She had world headlines, many of them against her. Entertainment Tonight sent a correspondent, for goodness sake, to London, to cover the event. Please. Talk about overkill. Susan was cracking under the pressure, news outlets screamed.

And yet, just as the audience who adored her was turning cool on her, she showed herself to be a rather remarkable person. But did anyone notice?

“I feel at home on the stage,” she said, as she finished her performance. “It was well worth it,” she said of the competition. And then she added: “I’m among friends, am I not?”

And you couldn’t help wonder, well, was she? Here she had been plucked from obscurity, not just because of her ability to sing, but because of the way she looked, or didn’t look, really.

She is a funny, hip-wiggling kind of gal; a feisty woman who is willing to stand up to her critics, and give the song her best shot. Not many could have withstood that level of scrutiny. And she could have decided to just walk away from the circus of it all. She played our game, and we gave her losing marks.

Even Simon, the nasty, mean Simon, said at the end,” I’ve got to know the real Susan Boyle. You’re a nice, shy person.  You can walk away with your head held high…I absolutely adore you.”

The whole Susan Boyle phenomenon made me think about how sad it is that the world operates on appearance.

She has been the mouse to our cat.

In another package, she would be considered a great catch, fun to be with, full of potential, but as it is, we see her only as a sort of spectacle. I’m not sure the interest in her was ever really genuine.

Maybe this is something short men or fat women can relate to.

We have these stereotypical ideas of what makes an attractive person. Do others ever really take the time to know the person inside?

Weirdly, I think this is also true for attractive people – they get all this attention, and yet they wonder, is he, is she, really paying attention to me because of what I say rather than how I look?

In the end, a good relationship is about how much fun the person is to be with, how kind he or she is, how thoughtful, caring and generous. And none of those things come in a tube of lipstick.

It’s always in your heart – or it is not. And no one can find out if it’s there until they take a closer look, beyond the pretty dress, beyond the six-pack, beyond the handsome face or the doll-like features.

We got into a boil about Susan Boyle. But in the end, she was cooked.