Looking at a selection of American family sit-coms from Leave it Beaver to Modern Family, Pugh analyzes how television portrays gender and sexuality. While narrow in its approach, Pugh's book would make for a great reader in an undergraduate course on sexuality and representation.
'This book contributes to this ongoing discussion by exploring how the fantasies of genre, of marketing, and of children can never fully cloak the queerness lurking within the plucky families designed for American viewers' comic delight. Queer readings of family sitcoms demolish myths of yesteryear, demonstrating the illusion of American sexual innocence in television's early programs and its lasting consequences in the nation's self-construction, as they also allow fresh insights into the ways in which more recent programs negotiate new visions of sexuality while remaining indebted to previous narrative traditions and long-standing generic conventions." 4
"When we think of children, we think of the cultural fantasies of children-young, fresh-faces naifs in need of parental and community guidance to nurture them into adolescence and then adulthood-an often true yet strikingly simplistic assessment of their maturation process." 13
"Children's innocence may appear to be a timeless value-or, more precisely its advocates attempt to present it as a timeless value-yet images of children's innocence have shifted remarkably within television's relatively short history, which further adumbrates the queer potential of the child. " 14
"Sociologists of the 1950s such as James Bossard and Eleanor Boll noted a transition in the United States from adult-centred to child-centred families, documenting, "a radical change in the whole idea of the child's relative place in the family," such that "one finds a tendency, first, toward more 'child-centred' ritual, and, second, toward a change in the emphasis of the content of the family rituals which function as control or education, from one of narrowly channelizing behaviour to one of liberating and guiding potentialities." 45
"Queer theory intersects with children's narratives in their joint focus on the social meaning of the Child. As Lee Edelman argues, the figure of the Child, a powerful signifier of cultural innocence, demarcates normative behaviours and pleasures for adults: "The Child," he posits, "marks the fetishistic fixation of heteronormativity." 52
"Nostalgia wields its inexorable pull as individuals recoat their yesteryears with patinas of affection and loss, not simply remembering events of their youth but imbuing them with a warm, hazy glow, as well as regret for their passing. As Soren Kierkegaard muses: "To live in recollection is the most perfect life imaginable; recollection is more richly satisfying than all actuality, and it has a security that no actuality possesses. A recollected life has already passed into eternity and has no temporal interest anymore. The past becomes a longed-for-paradise, one with its disappointments erased from view. With a dash of cynicism, Ralph Harper proposes that "nostalgia is neither illusion nor repetition; it is a return to something we have never had. And yet the very force of it is just that in it the lost is recognized, is familiar. Through nostalgia we know not only what we hold most dear, but the quality of experiencing that we deny ourselves habitually. Nostalgia, then, does not simply entail a remembrance of things past but a celebration of a fantasy of that past. Furthermore, in sugar-coating one's history, nostalgia threatens to dull one's sensibilities, as Charles Maier suggests through his memorable anthology: "Nostalgia is to memory as kitsch is to art." 71
"Within Roseanne's allegorical consideration of blue-collar life without union, her struggles to provide for her family showcase a mother's tribulations in times of economic duress, with Barr's body, through her defiant presentation of fatness, metonymically capturing the program's ethos. As Julie Bettie states, "In Roseanne, the socially "low" is marked by Roseanne and Dan Conner's large bodies, in striking contrast to the thin and normatively beautiful characters of middle-class sitcoms." 112