It got a little out of hand. So I’m reposting it here, as its own post. I really, really appreciate someone actually taking the time to engage and ask questions here. And though I’ve been snarky, seriously, if there’s something you’d like to know, I’m absolutely willing to discuss it.
here’s a link to my recent “My Feminism” post.
I actually have quite a few criticisms of raunch culture. Mostly they come from a sort of Marxist angle–that our sexuality is commodified and sold back to us in a very specific light, and that’s problematic, yes. I’ve written a bit about this, and actually was just saying yesterday that it might be time to dig out Das Kapital and write the big ol’ critique of porn and sex work as WORK rather than as social signification.
Like I said, I’ve been all over the map in terms of physical attractiveness, and I do absolutely think that there’s a beauty premium and that people get treated differently because of how they look. And that is a problem.
But I see the mind-body dichotomy as a problem, too.
The female was always associated with the body in that little binary there. And the body was BAD. So a lot of the feminism that I relate to is about reclaiming the body as good. As a source of joy and pleasure for the woman herself. (If you REALLY want to get geeky, I’d be happy to send you a copy of a paper I wrote for a film theory class that explains some of that.)
My biggest problem with Twisty is that she makes bold declarations that something is unfeminist or that it’s rape culture. If you read my post on feminism and heterosexuality, well, that’s something that bothers me greatly. In all my thoughts on female desire, I’ve never been quite able to break with the fact that I am a straight girl. I like men. I fantasize about men. I do actually enjoy heterosexual sex, even giving blowjobs and being shoved around some. It’s my desire, and as the quote I posted above says, my desires don’t revolve around what I’m repudiating.
So to me, to call things that genuinely turn me on ‘rape’ is insulting. It’s denying my agency, and while Twisty likes to tell us all that we don’t have any agency because of patriarchy, well, I’ve got to live this life and so until the Revolution comes and we overthrow the patriarchy/capitalism, I’ve got to find ways to make myself happy. So do we all.
Twisty said “The idea that women’s public sexuality can so precisely mirror traditional male fantasy while simultaneously existing in a kind of pro-woman, I-do-it-for-myself alternate universe is the cornerstone of funfeminist “thought.””
Unfortunately, my sexuality DOES mirror traditional male fantasy quite often. And it’s not because I haven’t examined enough or tried other options, or opted out altogether for a couple of years. So I DO have to find a way to reconcile those two facts.
And as I mentioned in several of the posts above and over the past few months, I had an ex who rather than wanting me to participate in wild sex or wear ‘porny’ clothes, wanted me to wear conservative clothes, was freaked out by my actual sexual desire, and basically wanted me to conform to the same ideals that I see vaunted over at Twisty’s–don’t dress sexy, don’t express your sexual desires, don’t be active sexually (not to be confused with sexually active) etc. So if I’d done that, I’d be pleasing a man. And he liked to use my feminism as a way to get me to behave the way he thought–if you’re a feminist, he’d say, why do you need men to look at you?
And so yes, at this point I would say that my freedom now to wear what I damn well want is a feminist act. My freedom to fuck how I damn well want is a feminist act. And those things don’t oppress anyone, because I’m not trying to force anyone else’s desires into the same box as I live in.
It strikes me sometimes as a reversal of the Kantian categorical imperative (I’m sorry if I’m sounding like one of those overeducated middle-class wonks that were getting ragged on over there, but once again, that’s who I am and I can’t fight it). People get angry because of the way I or Ren or Caroline looks or acts or talks, because they confuse our advocacy for our right to do that with advocacy that the rest of the world behave that way. I am not trying to impose my lifestyle on anyone else, and all I ask is that they don’t do it to me.
As far as burlesque goes, well, I just transcribed an interview with Margaret Cho the other day, and she was talking about how bellydance and burlesque actually helped her get over her body issues because she would go to bellydance events and see older women, bigger women, young women, skinny women, all of them dancing and shaking it and having a great time and being beautiful. The same thing with a lot of the neo-burlesque movements–there are plenty of them that revolve around non-porny ideals of beauty, and women find a lot of acceptance there.
Yes, to some degree it’s still performing for the gaze. But I’ve argued before and will again (because I looooove feminist film theory) that the gaze is not necessarily masculine.
Again, thanks for actually engaging. If you have any other questions I’m totally up for answering them.
“I actually have quite a few criticisms of raunch culture. Mostly they come from a sort of Marxist angle–that our sexuality is commodified and sold back to us in a very specific light, and that’s problematic, yes. I’ve written a bit about this, and actually was just saying yesterday that it might be time to dig out Das Kapital and write the big ol’ critique of porn and sex work as WORK rather than as social signification.”
That’s an interesting angle to pursue, actually. That seems to be the alibi for a lot of the anti-porn folks – that they’re making a critique of capitalist exploitation rather than a moralistic condemnation of sex. That’s their story – one doesn’t have to read very far to see that the critique is typically very much based on sexual moralism (and a fuck of a lot of envy), albeit moralism based on an absolutist take on feminism rather than religion.
The thing is, if you’re going to critique porn as a capitalist industry, then there has to be some consistency with a larger critique of capitalist media and art under capitalism. And generally, I don’t see this as a critique that’s highly developed in feminist/radical/what have you circles at all. Film is the clearest example I can think of – a highly developed art form (in fact, I’d argue, its the visual art form of our age – what painting was to the Renaissance, film is today), and at the same time, a huge capitalist industry. So how does capitalism change the nature of the art form, what might film look like in a non-capitalist economy, and most importantly, can that critique have any meaningful effect on how film is produced and consumed in the here and now?
I’d say the above would be the set of questions an anti-capitalist critique of the porn industry would have to ask. And its here where I think the anti-porn feminists who attack it from an “anti-capitalist” angle call it so wrong – ask them to posit an alternative to the capitalist film industry or art market, and that typically doesn’t involve the wholesale banning or destruction of movies or artworks. Ask them what their alternative to the porn industry is, and that often involves an across-the-board ban on porn, regardless of the conditions of production. Sometimes with the rather milquetoast category of “erotica” posited as the thing that will replace it.
“(I’m sorry if I’m sounding like one of those overeducated middle-class wonks that were getting ragged on over there, but once again, that’s who I am and I can’t fight it).”
Pfff – commenters over at TWISTY’S blog getting pissy about “middle class” anything is more than a tad hypocritical. In case anybody hasn’t noticed, Twisty is a very wealthy (in fact, independently wealthy) person, and is quite prone to bragging about her rather swell lifestyle. I’m not going to bash her too much on that, considering how much I like “living large” where I can do so, but I’ll be damned if somebody in her position, or those supporting her, are entitled to take shots at other people’s supposed class privilege.
Yeah..I agree with you regarding film, as well. The original feminist film studies tendency was to read every piece of mainstream filmmaking as completely patriarchal and oppressive, and to basically deny that there was any place for women to enjoy it without identifying with the male lead.
I don’t see it that way (and wrote about it, the piece I offered up in that post, for example).
And I don’t see anything wrong with sex on video, for money.
My number one pet peeve is Girls Gone Wild. Because those girls aren’t getting paid, and they’re getting preyed upon while drunk.
I think the best that we can hope for, under the current system, is fair pay and good treatment, an end to the stigma, and hopefully an equitable distribution of the means of production across gender, race, sexual orientation, etc. lines. But I’m not the type who thinks visual pleasures are inherently gendered masculine–that women don’t like to look, in other words.
GGW and Joe Francis are a lot of people’s pet peeves at this point, even in the porn industry. Even Hugh Hefner, of all people, is on record as having a low opinion of Joe Francis.
What can be done about GGW is harder to say – I think a closer eye needs to be kept on them to keep Joe Francis and company from crossing the line into outright sexual assault, but preventing the more basic exploitation that’s taking place – that’s going to take some education. I think that kind of education is one place where a specifically sex positive feminism can have a positive impact in a way that a more maternalistic and, yes, prudish feminism simply can’t.
I am 100% with you on that. Like I said on the other thread, I think that learning “no” and “yes” together is important, rather than learning that “no” is the only option. Because let’s face it, at some point we’re all going to try sex, even if we do wait until marriage or whatever BS. And once “no” is an absolute, and that’s gone, somehow you lose the fact that you can agree and refuse certain things, you can change your mind about them, you can try them and not ever do them again.
I wrote an article once upon a time about the whole Mardi Gras “tits for beads” culture. I’ve got it around somewhere, have to find it. Anyway, that always annoyed me when I lived in New Orleans, the idea that women ‘exploring their sexuality’ results in showing their boobs for plastic crap that gets thrown off parade floats for free. The idea that New Orleans was the place you came to so that you could say “I was drunk, it was Mardi Gras” and have an ‘excuse’ for being ’sexual.’ Well, hell, flashing my tits for a couple of seconds doesn’t strike me as terribly sexual.
Mazel tov if you’re an exhibitionist. Great if you really want to take your kit off on video in exchange for a baseball cap or T-shirt. I don’t like it and won’t buy the videos, but if girls are actually giving informed consent to these things, that’s fine with me. I don’t like baseball, either, but I just don’t watch it. I don’t really watch porn, either. I do have a collection of movies in my DVD collection that are sometimes porn substitutes, though, and as you can see from my blog, I sure do objectify men.
A friend of mine proposed the idea of videos like Girls Gone Wild needing to get consent again after a waiting period, when the girls have sobered up (assuming they were drunk) and aren’t surrounded by a crowd of chanting guys yelling at them to take it off. That doesn’t really do anything about the original situation, though, and having lived in New Orleans long enough to remember being harassed to take it off many, many times, I’d say that education is going to have to be a large part of that.
You know, what I find with Twisty is she has no fracking idea of what hegemony actually is. She used the word “dominant” in that post, which might imply that there’s alternatives. But no, patriarchy is all encompassing, so there’s no room for an alternative, or any sense of agency. It’s all bloody false consciousness.
What if you’re a queer trans woman who only sometimes passes with a fracking girlfriend, and performing for the male gaze is not just profoundly irrelevant but downright dangerous (to pull an example from air), is your femme gender presentation still all about the Patriarchy? Bollocks it is.
I feel a post coming on about how cis-sexist this all is.
Oh, please do post on it.
“The idea that New Orleans was the place you came to so that you could say “I was drunk, it was Mardi Gras” and have an ‘excuse’ for being ’sexual.’ Well, hell, flashing my tits for a couple of seconds doesn’t strike me as terribly sexual.”
Thing is, though, that I am BOTH sure that for many women it’s a silly and uncomfortable tradition, AND sure, from knowing many an exhibitionist, that for a lot of people it probably does work as described, TOO. Which means that, for me — well, it’s not that it’s not critiquable, “ohhhh mannn lighten upppp, duuuuuude” and all, but that it’s complicated.
For some people, showing off can be sexual, or at least refreshing. Here are a few examples of this:
1) If you’ve been taught all your life that you must keep yourself covered for God and husband, it could be freeing to let that go and “do something crazy”.
2) If you’re not conventionally pretty, the fact that it’s a tradition and most people do it, being able to “blame” it on the tradition may free you up to show off in a culture that tells you you’re hideous.
3) If your fantasies run toward the exhibitionistic, it can be a place to try this out while, again, having a tradition to blame it on.
Now none of this means it’s a wonderful tradition, and I’ll admit I’ve never been there and done it myself so I don’t know how skeevy it usually is or is not. But the whole “there’s a fact that this goes on! How BAD!” always leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Can we please be just a little more specific about who’s doing what and why?
Yeah, well it kind of sucks when suddenly your front lawn isn’t a safe place for you to go without someone yelling for you to take your shirt off.
I’m sure there are women who enjoy it, for all the reasons you named and many others besides. But like I said in the next sentence down, cool if that’s how you feel and if it makes you happy. It doesn’t make me happy, but I’m not trying to shame or shut anyone down for doing it. I’m not that much more comfortable with it being the dominant form of sexual expression for young women than a lot of the rads, I’m sure, but again, I see that as an outgrowth of the fact that young women have almost zero safe spaces in which to experiment, and certainly very little encouragement to find their own pleasures, not out of some fucked-up desire to ‘please the patriarchy.’ The patriarchy is what creates the lack of safe space for women to explore.
Sarah, I didn’t say it was splendortastic, I said it was *complicated*.
I don’t mean to be annoyed here, but I’m rather weary lately of people thinking that the minute I say “wait, let’s see if there is another side to this” I am somehow saying it’s perfectly (or even generally) defensible. I’m not. On balance it may be one of the most needed-to-smash little traditions in American culture. But I don’t feel I can know that or pronounce on it because I have not lived there and had it be part of my yearly life. And the only people I’ve ever heard about it from seemed to think it was harmless and amusing and something they either did once and enjoyed or wanted to do, so… yeah. I *don’t know* if young women who live there experience it as the patriarchy taking over their front yard. If I had an easy way to interview a lot of them, I’d get back to you on that.
But I *did* live there, and I didn’t say I experienced it as the patriarchy taking over my front yard. I said that during Mardi Gras, quite literally there would be people in front of my house shouting for me to take it off if I went outside.
I also, if you’ll notice, said twice that I’m not saying people shouldn’t do it. But just as you said above that you see a problem with young girls being dressed in sexual manner when they’re too young to know the difference, I see a bit of a problem in situations where women are often not inclined to take their top off to begin with, but lots of shouts from the crowd (which is mixed, definitely not all male) might lead them to do otherwise. Or when you can’t walk down Bourbon Street without having your tits, ass, or any other exposed body part grabbed. I worked on Bourbon Street and was afraid to leave by myself after work during Mardi Gras, because the street was packed with people and it was impossible to walk without being pressed against strangers, and you definitely couldn’t tell who was grabbing you.
But again, if that’s something that gets people going, cool. I want sex and sexuality to be options that women can freely choose to participate in or not participate in, and the atmosphere of Mardi Gras quite often leads there to be very little way around it.
Okay. You living there changes it for me. I’m used to seeing a lot of interpretations of things that don’t rest on experience, so I’m usually wary.
And those things don’t oppress anyone, because I’m not trying to force anyone else’s desires into the same box as I live in.
I think the idea that you doing what you “damn well want” oppresses no one is myopic, at very best. All women live under the reign of the beauty imperative and the patriarchy and purely by you living your life in a state, for all comers to see, notions of beauty and sexiness being connected to whatever demographics that you may be in (i.e. whiteness, straightness, middleclassedness) are perpetuated relatively unchecked. We are all oppressors and we all live as the oppressed.
So what should I do? Go live on the street, try my hardest to be a lesbian, change my skin tone?
I can’t.
And even if I could, that’d be ridiculous.
What is the ANSWER, then, to “life under patriarchy,” pray tell? What should we do?