This past Thursday, I attended a film screening of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, the latest film to be adapted from a book....that was itself adapted from a different book. I remember when the book Pride and Prejudice and Zombies came out, and I thought the book might lure unsuspecting youth into actually enjoying a literary matsterpiece and classic. I greatly enjoyed reading the original and admit that I snubbed the pop culture revival. Upon given the opportunity to go to a screening, however, I put my skepticism aside. As a film, I thought PPZ was excellent, extremely entertaining and just enough of the original to be a humorous homage. I have to say that Lily James and Matt Smith stole the show and created exciting and entertaining characters. This blog is not simply about movie reviews, however, so I feel compelled to discuss some elements of communication and rhetorical theory that, in this case, heightens my enjoyment of the film, and one cautionary note. I will first address what I felt were positive feminist inversions in the film through perspective by incongruity before discussing the future of orality and literacy. Suffice to say, this post will have comments about specific elements of the film. You have been warned.
Although many of the fighting scenes became repetitive, I never tired of the many scenes of the Bennet sisters pulling knives out of garter belts or revealing hidden weapons from underneath their dresses. The Bennet sisters were trained as Chinese warriors and often came to the aid of their family and male counterparts. In discussing these scenes, I am reminded of Kenneth Burke's perspective by incongruity, by which two disparate things are united to highlight the differences between them. In PPZ, I found this concept in play along multiple dimensions. The weaponry along the exaggerated feminity of the time period. Large skirts and corsets are made to restrict the movements of ladies, and yet the Bennet sisters move seemingly without pause to eliminate dozens of potential zombie threats. Furthermore, the juxtaposition of 19th century language and style with a contemporary horror fascination reflected the movie's unique narrative. One of my favorite parts was the puppeter-style history book that explained the relationship between the plague and the zombie outbreak - fascinating legitimization of a decidedly impossible occurrence.
Perspective by incongruity also laid a stark humor over the entire novel. The imminent zombie horde emphasizes how absurd the choice of husbands for Elizabeth is and the amount of time and attention given to such occasions. Even with zombies attacking and killing people at the balls, Mrs. Bennet and many of the people present are preoccupied with marriage and inheritances. The incongruence of these simultaneous acts highlights the odd traditions of the past and reignites the agency of Elizabeth in choosing her husband, despite the risks. I have recently paid much attention to the rise of feminist themes in horror movies (such as Teeth, It Follows, and Crimson Peak). I am happy to find these themes traversing genres and emerging in a more mainstream film. I hope these themes do not become overblown and trite, and keep their sincerity and calls for reconsidering the roles of women in narratives.
I did enjoy PPZ and found many instances of progressive film-making. I do wonder, however, if the creation of such films do not damage readership. When I first encountered the novel, I thought at least people would still be reading - what is there now? I do not mean to undermine film as a medium of communication, but I wonder what the long term effects are of children brought up watching the Lord of the Rings, Pride and Prejudice, Roald Dahl novels, the Great Gatsby, and Bride to Teribithia. Furthermoe, what happens when these film adaptations are perversions of the original text? Excellent movies, to be sure, but I wonder what components of visuality and literacy, minus orality, are lost on the current generation.
This is the final installment of my three series set on horror films and sexuality. My first two posts examined Teeth and It Follows. Each of these films embraces female sexuality in different ways that I think deserve scholarly attention. Teeth creates a monstrous feminine that frames female sexuality to be a tool for empowerment that is often suppressed by male domination. It Follows neutralizes sex as an equalizer between the sexes and removes the stigma of promiscuity from female sexual interactions. In this final post, I will unpack the sexual anxieties present in Crimson Peak (2015). As with the last two posts and my other posts about horror films (e.g., The Visit, The Purge: Anarchy), this post will have spoilers and detailed analysis about the film's key ideas.
To be frank, Crimson Peak was an awkward film to see with my brother. The film addresses incest and the blurred lines of familial love and familial violence. I will discuss the use of incest in the film as well as the romantic aspects of this horror film. I think Guillermo Del Toro has created another horror masterpiece. I do not know if it will stand up to the classics of Pan's Labyrinth, the Devil's Backbone, and The Orphanage, but it does embody an aesthetically pleasing and intoxicating horror story. The main character, Edith, is a timid virgin that falls hopelessly in love with Thomas marries him, and goes to live with him in England. Edith can see ghosts, namely the ghost of her mother, and writes ghost stories inspired by her supernatural abilities. This power is at first terrifying as she finds deformed, blood-soaked ghosts wandering her new home. It becomes clear, however, that these ghosts are warning Edith about her fate and imminent death at the hands of her new spouse and his sister, Lucille. It is revealed that Thomas and Lucille are lovers and have conspired to murder Edith for her father's money. Fighting and blood-stained snow occurs before Edith manages to escape the clutches of the incestuous pair. In what follows, I will bring up a few important points where I find female sexuality explored in interesting ways and sexuality's role in horror. I first briefly address the use of romance in the film, examine the taboo nature of incest, then the character of Lucille, and finally the role of women and traditional gender roles.
Lucille, Thomas, and Edith movie poster. Retrieved from this site.
In Edith's first rejection letter from a publisher, the editor laments that her ghost story does not include enough romance. This small scene was brilliantly added by Del Toro because it sets up the entire rest of the film for the audience to expect romance and not horror. Although Del Toro is the King of Horror and the film was marketed as such, this nearly throwaway line redirects the audience's attention from the ghost story to the romantic plot line. The film is really about Edith's love and, arguably more so, about Lucille's love. The two women have competing love stories that tie them together in a fight to death. Yes there are ghosts and yes there is blood, but the story's forward progress is not fear or anger, but love. Love is also an uncommon theme in horror films; more often it is lust, obsession, revenge, and sex that drives the character's actions. In this move, I think Del Toro does a great service to horror films by reminding contemporary audiences that fear and catharsis is but one aspect of a good story. Indeed, his film's often have the unique ability to incite both fear and awe, horror and hope, anger and sadness.
Del Toro immediately sets up the film so that we are suspect of Thomas and Lucille's intentions. There are secret meetings, unscrupulous attempts to raise money and to blackmail others, and an air of suggestive closeness between the two. At first, I thought perhaps they were married and were using a ruse of being siblings to attract dowries from Thomas's future spouses. The audience's mind, even though offered that they are related, first attempts other explanations to explain their lingering hugs, sideways glances, and Lucille's jealousy. When it is revealed in more explicit detail that Thomas and Lucille are sleeping together, Edith at first cannot believe it and shouts that she knew they were not brother and sister. Lucille responds, "but we are!" Confronted with the information directly before her eyes with knowledge of their deformed child, Edith still reconciles her perceptions with anything but incest. Incest becomes the twist, the plot point that was in front of our eyes the entire film, but we could not yet believe it until it is confirmed by Lucille. Incest is a sexual taboo not often addressed in horror films. It emerged in Here Comes the Devil, another film with a Spanish director, but is not a common media trope. Dysfunctional families and families undergoing trauma are often fodder for horror films, such as We Are What We Are, The Devil's Rejects, Red Dragon, The Babadook, and, of course, Psycho. Del Toro's use of incest and elevating the dysfunctional family to the level of incest draws forth interesting thoughts about how society differentiates between sexuality and love. If Lucille had simply loved her brother without having sex with him, perhaps the implications of their relationship would not be so terrifying.
I think that Lucille could have easily been the hero instead of the villain of the film if her sexuality had been removed from the film by either being Thomas's sister and not having sex with him, or not being his sister. Upon reflection, many of Lucille's actions are ones of pure love and adoration - she murders those who might come between her and Thomas, sacrifices her temporary satisfaction in the relationship to help the family financially, and is jealous of those that compete for Thomas's affection. For example, in Del Toro's other films, we don't fault the mother in The Orphanage for jeopardizing her relationship with her husband in her search for her son. In Mama, we don't question the actions of the lead character for protecting her boyfriends nieces. These familial relationships are honored and understandable, but we do not perceive of Lucille in the same way. Instead, Lucille is evil because her brand of love is taboo. I do not condone incest; it's presence caused me to think about the lines that all humans draw through symbols and communication that separate the sacred and profane. Mircea Eliade argued that religious thought is rooted in human separation between what is sacred and thus revered and worshiped, and what profane or filthy. Much like eating cow if you are Hindu, certain actions and rituals are deemed off limits to remain pious to a particular order. I remember talking in sociology class about how eating human flesh and incest are as close to the two most universal taboo actions in human history, and still they are not universal. Incest is close enough to it, however, that its presence in a narrative immediately defines those who are good and those who are evil. I wonder if this particular sexuality were removed from Lucille, however, that we would hate her so much for her actions. She is fighting for the wrong, most profane, most taboo type of love, whereas Edith's virginity and purity are the foil.
Brother and sister. Retrieved from this site.
These two arguments unfold what I think is the most important part of the film - it's not about Thomas. Although he does receive a good portion of screen time, the film is a war between Edith and Lucille with Thomas as merely a chess piece. You are clearly told through the plot that Thomas has been overwhelmingly influenced by his sister to act as he does and you wonder if Thomas is responsible for any of film's terrors. The audience becomes sympathetic to him as he tries to reconcile his sister with Edith, the new woman he loves. Thomas has no control over the action of the film; even in death he is only a brief distraction that Edith uses to kill Lucille. The female leads trump the "hero" doctor, Alan, who comes to save Edith and only ends up a burden to her as she slowly walks his injured self back to town. The men are ancillary characters to the epic battle between empowered and strong women. They fight for their lives and also for love and normalcy. Unlike the traditional story line of multiple men fighting over a woman like an object, it is Thomas who becomes the target of the audience's gaze as he is pushed and pulled between the two women, unable to control his own emotions and unable to act to protect himself, Alan, Lucille, or Edith. Instead it is Lucille and Edith who take strong, decisive action - they break rules to explore passages, they murder men with their bare hands, they beat and chase each other, they sacrifice their own flesh and blood for what they want.
In these three horror films, I find fascinating and interesting themes about female sexuality and how it can be used as a source of power, can be normalized in everyday life, and can be used to invert traditional roles for women. As I've mentioned in a previous post, one aspect that draws me to the horror genre is its penchant for creativity. Many genres become pigeon-holed in cliche plots that never seem to vary from the boy meets girl or person saves someone from place they aren't supposed to be narratives. In horror, however, I find innovation, inversion, and inquiry into the very aspects of what makes us human, and the different ways that people deal with reality and the supernatural. Unlike other genres, I also think horror addresses sexuality and the line between life and death in unique ways. I'm hopeful that the genre will continue to innovate and push our expectations for what we expect films to do.
Last week, I started a series of three posts about horror films and sexuality. The first week discussed "Teeth" and the complications of sexual purity, education, and consent. This week addresses "It Follows," a 2015 film with a unique and exciting "monster." I will first discuss the film as an innovative step forward in the horror genre. Then, I will praise the film's subtle but profound incorporation of female sexual empowerment. All three of these posts will contain detailed plot information and reflection, so those who do not want to be "spoiled" should skip these posts.
It Follows was simultaneously praised as an instant classic and creative horror endeavor. The plot is simple, yet immediately and strikingly unnerving. The film's "monster" is a shape-shifting, unidentified creature that slowly but adamantly walks directly towards its prey. Once caught, the person is ripped to shreds. The creature has no shape of its own; the monster is truly hidden in plain sight, hiding with the appearance of strangers, friends, or family. This set-up has the unique ability to invoke fear in the audience with scenes of people walking towards the camera in the background. What is normally considered an average part of everyday life becomes a potential and immediate threat. Without seeing the film yourself, it is hard to convey the silliness one feels at being completely terrified at a young girl or old woman walking slowly towards you. That is part of the genius of the film; the banal, everyday activities become risky, dangerous, and potentially life-ending. What actions do we participate in everyday, how many people do we cross paths with, that could alter our lives indefinitely? The film also conveys intense paranoia, where anyone approaching the main characters are met with skepticism and aggression before they can be identified. Even when the characters flee the town briefly and relax on the beach, there is an ominous aura that the creature will catch up eventually; any safety is only temporary.
I will now discuss the sexual elements of the film. The "creature" follows individuals based on their sexual partners. The origins of the creature are left quite murky, but, in short, the creature follows whoever the person it was previously following has sex with. Jay, the lead female character, has sex on a date and catches "It." Her sexual partner was kind enough to explain the creature to her and warn her to pass "It" along quickly or else it will kill her. There are certainly undertones of sexual anxiety here. Any sexual partner could result in an STD or pregnancy, which is an obvious metaphor for "It" that silently follows but has the potential to kill. This metaphor breaks down, however, when one thinks of passing the creature to others so that one could be rid of it themselves. STDs are reciprocal and cannot be erased by sex with others. Indeed, this type of thinking is indicative of myths where sex with virgins can cure AIDS. Some have called It Follows as an exercise in sexual fear and anxiety, because of the potential consequences and risks one takes when engaging in sexual activity, especially casually so. Despite these potentially shaming interpretations, I see positive and productive scenes that sexually empower women. I will discuss three of them: when Jay is originally passed "It," the discussions the main characters have about destroying the creature, and the act of following and stalking.
There is a long-lasting myth that women use sex for power, money, and ulterior motives. The stereotype is that men require sex more and women less, so women can dangle sexual relief as a bargaining chip. I feel no need to explicate why these stereotypes are just that, stereotypes with little practical application. Given this assumption and other sexual myths that circulate in popular culture, I find the scene where Jay is passed the creature by Hugh a welcome inversion. Hugh, a male, is the one using Jay and sex for a non-sexual purpose - to pass the creature along. He dates Jay and acts with a motivation unrelated to the relationship and having sex. Instead, he has sex out of the need for self-preservation, out of fear, not unlike a victim of domestic assault. Instead of the female using sex maliciously or with ulterior motives, Jay enjoys her casual, sexual encounter and we feel no animosity towards her. Instead, our scorn is directed towards Hugh, however briefly, the man who has sex to save his own skin and endangers the main character's life. Sex becomes a betrayal of her consent; Jay got far more than she expected from the encounter. Unlike current arguments about abortion and birth control, we don't feel that Jay's consent to the sexual encounter makes her somehow "deserving" of this fate.
After Jay convinces her friend of the danger she is in, they discuss how to kill it. Jay decides and consents to sex with a member of the group to pass the creature along to buy them more time. There is the implication that the male may be better able to protect himself, or simply that this is Jay's sexual preference. Either way, his brutal death confirms for the group that there is no safety based on one's gender. Everyone is equally susceptible to the actions of this creature. Perhaps it is time or death itself that marches towards all of us. Later in the film, Jay has sex with another male friend, who quickly has sex with a prostitute. Sex, in the film, is removed from its traditional, romantic settings. Instead, it becomes a normal part of life that may be engaged in for many reasons besides love. Although we might condemn Hugh at first for his actions, we become accustomed quickly to the idea that if sex is the way "It" operates, sex may also be the solution to defeating it. Jay and Paul have sex from a platonic, friendship type of love, concerned for Jay's safety. This sexual act blossoms into romantic love, but this was not its roots. It Follows presents an alternative view of sex. Unlike Teeth, sex is not dangerous or shameful. There are potential consequences to its engagement, but the danger of "It" is separated and distinct from the sex itself. Sex is a more normalized, everyday activity that holds no more or no less threat than other daily activities. Sex is not given the importance that is provided in Teeth and thus removes the common sex-shaming in horror films and the "sluts die first" mentality.
Catcalling video mentioned below.
While watching It Follows, I couldn't help but be reminded of the video where a woman filmed herself walking along in New York City for a day. The simple act of walking, of being followed, is a fear that women every day fear. As someone who has been followed from a bus to a Metro being taunted by a man, and on a separate occasion been grabbed by someone approaching from behind (in addition to numerous verbal assaults), the fear and uncertainty of being followed is well communicated in the film. Everyone may not immediately recognize the potential danger in stalkers or people following, but the film illuminates this potential danger. Anyone walking behind the main characters is noticed and understood as a threat. I don't believe that everyone is a potential threat, but it is clear that everyone has the potential to be. Unexpectedly, strangers (and sometimes even friends) can become risks to one's self-hood and safety. And it may begin with a simple act of following.
It Follows quickly became one of my favorite horror films. I applaud the interesting and exciting decisions made about the actions and appearance of the creature and greatly enjoyed the sexual themes throughout the film. No film is perfect, and indeed I may have changed a few elements of the film to further its cohesion and consistency, but It Follows communicated a positive, inclusive message that I hope will be furthered in future horror films. Films have the power to influence public opinion and insert educational messages in an entertaining way. The normalization of sex and the empowerment of female sexuality are productive trends in the journey towards equality and sexual freedom.
Sexuality and horror films often go together. They represent the promise of new life, the pleasure of intimacy coupled with the fear of death and the terror of isolation. Beginnings and endings are ideas I am pursuing in my dissertation. I'm interested in how these concepts emerge together in many contemporary controversies. Horror films are another place where beginnings and endings are merged seamlessly. In this three-post series, I take a comparative look at three horror films, Teeth, It Follows, and Crimson Peak. I find a pattern of sexual anxiety and sexual exploration that pushes boundaries of "normal" sexual behavior. If people haven't seen these films, or don't want to be "spoiled," this is a warning that I will be talking about film details and plot elements. These films have captured my imagination because they play with and expand on the agency and power of females, which I think is a positive (and at the very least interesting) trend in contemporary film.
Post image retrieved from this website.
This poster brings up an interesting correlation between Dawn's last name, O'Keefe, and the
association between flowers and vaginas in Georgia O'Keefe's paintings.
Teeth (2007) is about Dawn, an advocacy speaker for the purity movement at her church. When she is raped by a fellow church member, she discovers that she has vagina dentata or a "toothed vagina." These teeth act on their own accord and work to protect Dawn from her rapist, castrating him in a gruesome scene. At first, she is understandably frightened and considers her plight a result of her sin. After research about herself and these teeth, Dawn has an epiphany. Her enlightenment, as indicated by her name and frequent references to the sun, comes in the form of sexual empowerment, where she can use her teeth to her advantage. Although the teeth are not under Dawn's direct control, they do not attack in a scene where Dawn is enjoying consensual sex. When the same sex scene invites Dawn's scorn and rage, the teeth attack and emasculate him. There are certainly problems in this film that disempower Dawn. Dawn does not preemptively attack or fend off potentially negative sexual encounters. For Dawn to fight back in her unique way, she must first be penetrated and submit herself to the sexual advances of men. At the end of the film, Dawn takes refuge in a man's car, who begins licking his lips and making sexual advances towards Dawn. Knowledgeable that the imminent sexual encounter will result in his castration, she smiles.
Dawn at the end of the film. Image retrieved from Rotten Tomatoes.
This film blurs lines of consent in the sense that Dawn "willingly" engages in certain sexual encounters with the knowledge that her teeth would attack her sexual partner. Despite these issues, Teeth does show a sexual empowered female who explores her own sexuality and comes to terms with her unique strength and eroticism. In Audre Lorde's "The Uses of the Erotic," she argues, "the erotic is a resource within each of us that lies in a deeply female and spiritual plan, firmly rooted in the power of our unexpressed or unrecognized feeling" (p. 87). The erotic is a power that is oppressed and corrupted by dominant power structures to keep women from realizing its power. For Dawn, the religious group is the source of oppression, where her sexual power is "vilified, abused, and devalued" (p. 88). Issues of purity and virginity are non-identities, where a lack of participation (such as atheism or vegetarianism) in an action indicates membership. Lorde argues that this oppression keeps women "in the service of men" as "a distant/inferior" person (p. 88). Teeth offers Dawn the opportunity to reclaim her sexuality and eroticism from men who take advantage of her and only see her as a sexual object. Dawn transforms from a meek virgin to an empowered crusader throughout the film, in part from her increased knowledge about sexuality and the body. In one scene, Dawn removes a sticker (shaped liked a golden sun) from her sex ed textbook covering the anatomy of the vagina. The film makes a strong statement that her religious upbringing and lack of accurate and complete sexual education directly leads to her vulnerable, naive condition. It is through knowledge and an enlightenment religion that Dawn becomes a more powerful female. Lorde argues that when women embrace the erotic, they "rise up empowered" (p. 88).
With that empowerment, however, comes scorn. Lorde said, "women so empowered are dangerous" (p. 88). Women who claim power and dare to challenge the system, as seen in the new movie Suffragette, they receive backlash. The contemporary feminist movement is often accused of grasping for more than women are due, that attempts at "equality" are really clothed attempts at dominance. Similar to arguments about affirmative action, those that oppose feminism truly fear losing their place in the system or damaging what is deemed "normal," and thus the desired order. In a recent r/ChangeMyView post on Reddit, a female redditor claimed that "Men are superior to women." Her reasons were because of men and women's physical differences and also the presence of men in more challenging/intellectual jobs. It's clear to me that even disturbances in an order that disadvantages women receives scorn from women themselves. If everyone is equal, perhaps there is no reason other than our own shortcomings to blame on our failures. Or, if everyone is equal, then perhaps our successes are not as meaningful as others. In a powerful article by Carole Blair, Julie R. Brown, and Leslie A. Baxter, they argue that the academic review process, filled with intelligent and intellectual women, is also a biased space. They respond to an article that ranks the publication count of female communication scholars and rejection letters they received on an earlier version of the article. Their attempt to challenge the ranking article was met with scorn and rejection from both male and female reviewers. They argue that the original report "is a thematic marker of a masculinist ideology and that the anonymous reviews of our original essay are unusually explicit manifestations of the apparatuses that sustain and enable those ideological themes" (p. 384).
Teeth brings up these important issues of female agency and how sexuality can be used as a force of attraction but also creating fear. This film puts an interesting spin on how female sexuality can itself be a weapon, the monstrous female fighting back with the strength of her form. I see many movies that laud the adjusted or upgraded female, such as Aeon Flux and Ultraviolet, but less often do I see films that empower the everyday female to fight back. There are definitely a notable few which I hope to address in a later post. As recent articles have suggested, it is oftentimes females who end up surviving horror films, oftentimes with the help and intervention of others. Teeth, however, empowers the female protagonist to use not only her self, but her sexual self, to survive.
It's been two years since Kenan Thompson came under fire for blaming a lack of diversity casing in Saturday Night Live on the poor quality of black female comedians. Women often lack representation in the media, especially women of color, and the comedy genre is no exception. Similar to previous posts I've written about tokenism, it seems that the few females that are successful serve as stand-ins for the general inability for women to be funny. If Amy Schumer or Garfunkel and Oates can achieve success, why not every woman? Those who are successful are held up as proof that there is no bias or discrimination, although they still represent a minority of comedic faces. It's clear that prejudice still remains, with men still chairing key positions on popular comedy news shows and women of color remaining relatively absent even as male diversity increases. There are some notable exceptions that I hope will become more frequent. One of my favorite Daily Show segments features Samantha Bee and Jessica Williams tackling race issues. Tell me these women aren't funny.
The new season of Inside Amy Schumer has also been receiving attention as she tackles important social issues with a comedic slant. Among the very many attempted sketch shows, this one seems likely to succeed with Amy's keen insight for satire. Among her many hilarious and poignant videos, Amy has addressed beauty standards (video below), female representation in the media (long, but completely worth it, especially if you like 12 Angry Men), rape culture, and obsession with the female anatomy. Catchy and hilarious, "Girl, You Don't Need No Makeup" is a satire of boy bands and requirements for female beauty that reinforce unnecessary adornment and pruning. They note, "with a little mascara, you'll look female" linking the wearing of makeup as a female gendered activity; to not wear makeup is to violate the female identity. It is okay for males to comment on and discipline the actions women should take regarding their appearance. At the end of the video, the male singers try on some of the makeup products and their reactions reveal the ridiculousness of the products women are expected to wear.
Garfunkel and Oates (who frequent one of my favorite LA coffee spots, Bricks & Scones) are a successful comedy duo that also release sketch comedy videos. They've commented on issues such as an emphasis on pregnancy as crucial to the female identity, the gender divide in sports, and chastity (video below). This is a heads up that the video on chastity does show some mimed sex acts and references anal and vaginal sex. The song is a humorous take on the religious restrictions placed on youth to avoid their sexuality and find "loopholes" to stay pure. For me, this video does a great job at highlighting the double standards for purity, where females cannot be pleased sexually but the male can. Overall, the song brings attention to a common side-effect of abstinence-only sex education that promotes female virginity over information and personal choice. It also brings into question why certain sexual acts are treated differently than others and the treatment of sodomy in homosexual vs heterosexual relationships.
Comedy is a persuasive means of communication that often keeps attention and promotes critical thinking (especially in works of satire). The rise of female comedians opens up new areas for this critical eye of importance to women. I don't think these spaces are exclusively for females to occupy, but it is hard to speak for others. Female comedians provide a sense of legitimacy and authenticity to these issues, having lived many of these double standards and social obstacles. The writers and performers of the jokes come from a standpoint that reflects the unique position of a female in contemporary society. I hope that these shows continue to be popular and I encourage people to support them!
The concept of "materiality" and how physical objects argue is becoming popular in rhetorical criticism. Scholars are beginning to theorize that buildings, cities, monuments, and other physical objects can argue, influence people, and tell stories -- just like words. The history of "the material turn" is quiet expansive (as I've discovered while writing my dissertation about it), but I will summarize some key points before discussing examples.
Traditional rhetorical criticism focused on the speeches of great orators and analyzed the word choices and potential effects. Scholars slowly began to incorporate other objects of study like groups of speakers, genres of speeches, and non-elite speakers. These variations still focused on the spoken and written word, however. Larger changes emerged when scholars began looking at how physical spaces constrain or offer opportunities in the way that speeches invite or construct possibilities for audiences. Moving through a space that has physical obstacles is similar to spoken commands or laws that restrict movement. Physical spaces and objects can themselves be symbols (like words) that have embedded meaning, affect, and significance. Materiality invites audience participation and makes arguments.
The first example of arguing monuments is the Portrait Monument at the US Capitol. The marble monument shows three elegant busts of prominent women in the women's suffrage movement: Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Susan B. Anthony, and Lucretia Mott. There is room for a fourth bust in a lump of un-carved stone in the rear of the monument.
This monument makes a clear argument that the work of women's rights is unfinished. There may have been great women in the past who deserve to be honored, but there is still the need for activism, activists, and progress. Furthermore, viewers of the monument are invited to honor the memories of these three great women by continuing on their work. Their memories do not invoke a sense of completeness or finality; their faces encourage the audience to ask, "what more can be done?" Some people have thought that the unfinished section is meant to be completed when the US elects the first female President. This, however, goes against the intention of the artist, Adelaide Johnson, to show the perpetually unsolved state of gender equality.
Another example is the Atheism bench. This monument is the first public monument to atheism, or a lack of belief in divinity. The American Atheists lost a court case to have a monument to the Ten Commandments removed from a Florida Courthouse. Instead of removing the monument, the court offered them the opportunity to build their own monument. The monument is a bench so as to be a functional piece of public display. It is covered in quotations that specifically mention religion and the American political and legal systems.
The Atheism bench claims space for non-belief outside of a courtroom that, like Lady Liberty, should be blind to concerns of religion. The bench argues that religious belief should not be a factor in the courts. The bench also argues that public space should be free and open space where no ideas should dominate and none should be excluded. The bench also includes, in writing "consequences of breaking the Ten Commandments" as a direct verbal argument against the Ten Commandments monument displayed on the other end of the courthouse.
These are just two examples of how physical spaces can produce arguments. Oftentimes, memorials are coupled with verbal statements, like the Atheism bench, but it is important for scholars to note that images, monuments, and material things can produce independent, standalone arguments.
There are many issues that I feel compelled to address as a rhetorician and social agent of change (Klumpp and Hollihan argue). Engaging with these issues, however, requires reflexivity about my own status as a privileged, white, heterosexual, cisgender, able-bodied, female and how that type of person/body can speak for others. Can I speak for others? Perhaps literally, yes, I could use my platform on this blog and as an academic to speak for others. It wouldn't be well or with full knowledge, but I could. Thus, the better question would be should I speak for others?
On one hand, attention to these important issues of transgender rights, racial inequalities, gender equality, and equality more broadly should have as many advocates as possible. People of all description can be allies and amplify the voices and stories of those who can speak more genuinely about these problems.
On the other hand, speaking for others complicates issues of voice, could serve to isolate the voices of others, and reifies a system in which certain voices are more valuable than other voices. In an academic exchange in a journal, Campbell and Biesecker addressed the issue of speaking for women in rhetorical history and how the "canon" of rhetoric that is studied systematically removes female voices. Though Campbell erred on the side of including as many voices as possible into the current canon, Biesecker was in favor of rejecting the canon as a system of tokenization.
The rhetoric of tokenism highlights certain voices that triumph against an oppressive system as evidence that the system is not oppressive. The lauded status of certain individuals (Cloud has an excellent article on Oprah as exemplar) is unique and worthy of note, and their success is linked to their individual qualities. If others simply embodied these same qualities, they could also rise above the system, meaning that change is unnecessary.
This is the token black character on South Park, literally named "Token." Retrieved from this site.
Part of the problem in speaking for others is this dynamic of visibility, voice, invisibility, and silence. To speak for others is to reify that certain voices are not being paid attention to, but it also silences their actual message in favor of a conduit. To remain silent, though, is to allow and passively participate in the maintenance of the status quo.
I am still working through these problems and try to keep them in mind in the work that I address and the comments that I make. I try to always be reflective and aware of the position from which I consume information and process opinions. For now, I err on the side of commenting from my limited position, especially when certain issues are prevalent and pressing.
One issue that has recently emerged, and one which I am reluctant to rehash considering the wishes of my colleagues, has been the Annenberg Innovation Lab Black Twitter project. I wish only to comment on this situation's similarities to the issues of authorship, voice, and who is allowed/should study others as a researcher. A summary of the incident can be read here and an excellent response by my colleague Dayna Chatman can be read here. This incident helped me reflect more on my status as a researcher and how academia as a whole can be more reflexive of how our personal situations affect our approaches to certain issues.
Catcalling has been appearing frequently in article I've been reading, on social media, and in conversations with friends. I have already discussed more generally the problems that females face specifically on college campuses, but catcalling is a form of aggression that plagues all women. I use the term aggression purposefully and meaningfully as these catcalls are verbal, sexual assaults on females. These are, in many ways, hate crimes in that they are addressed and targeted towards a particular gender. I argue that these are violent, aggressive verbal attacks on females and are not addressed in order to be compliments or flattery. Any woman of all shapes and sizes in clothing from SoCal casual to Boston coats (I have seriously been catcalled walking down Boylston in my HUGE winter jacket) are catcalled. Like rape, catcalling is not about "flattering" or "complimenting" someone; it is about power, laying claim, objectifying, and reifying an order where men can and are allowed to "be men." The clip below is from a Fox News show where four clueless women and one man discuss how flattering and welcoming catcalling is.
The hosts argue "let men be men." This statement characterizes men as overly sexual, aggressive, and blameless for their actions. This attitude let's men off for perpetrating abusive, violent action towards women. The blame is shifted to the victims for not "taking a joke," their choice of outfit that incites a catcall, or walking in a certain area. Victim blaming is never something that should be encouraged or tolerated in society. Just like bullying or assault on college campuses, it is always the fault of the perpetrator, the person committing the crime and assault. It is never the fault of the victim. In the famous words of the recently passed Robin Williams in Good Will Hunting, victims must always remember, "it's not your fault." The hosts of the show should be ashamed of themselves for laughing and tolerating the inane slow clap of their male counterpart. The female presence is not a show or performance for the adoration or approval of males.
I have been catcalled many times and the first thing that I have thought was not, "oh how nice," or "how flattering!" Instead, it immediately places me in a subject position where my presence is only meaningful in that is a display and object for the male gaze. In one instance, I had a man follow me off a bus in Los Angeles and onto the Metro, yelling at me and attempting to accompany me to my destination. I will probably never forget the fear I felt when I realized he was behind me as I stepped off the bus. My relief in getting out of the situation became sheer panic. He ran up next to me and said, "I'm not trying to scare you sweetie, I just want to marry you." Another time, I was grabbed from behind by a young male on a skateboard on the very street where I live. This catcall, which I tried to ignore, ended in physical assault and made me feel like an object to be squeezed, held, and owned by others. When I step on the street, I have no control over the actions of others, what they may call me, how they may judge me, but I will say that it is more rare than not to have an assault-free day. Louis Althusser noted that when a police officer yells, "Hey you!" at someone, they immediately construct a subject position for them to inhabit. This interpellation is done from a position of power that constructs for the other person an identity that they have no part in constructing. Any reaction is to that assignment position within what Althusser called an "ideological state apparatus" that reifies hierarchy.
Buzzfeed attempted to create a humorous interpretation of catcalling. The video shows "What men are really saying when catcalling." This video is important because it addresses the counter-argument that many people use to defend catcalling: that it is a legitimate way to approach a female. If someone is interested, why not simply call out to them and engage them in conversation? Well, as the video shows and as I fully agree, catcalling is not an invitation. There is no desired or appropriate response. The male simply wishes to undermine the female, assert power, and inflate their own egos. As one of the males in the video states, "I noticed you're confident, so I'm cutting you down to feel powerful." Another notes that he's not sure why he's calling because he wouldn't know what to do if the female responded. When I have tried to respond to catcallers, I am either called a bitch, frigid, or am assumed to already have a boyfriend. Because already being owned by a male is the only reason to call off an approach.
Playboy also recently released a chart that describes when it is appropriate to catcall a female. Though my initial reaction was, "why do you need a flowchart to define the word 'never'?" this chart is important because it incorporates the participation of the female. The only way for catcalling to be appropriate, via this chart, is with the consent and agreement of the female party. This approach considers females active agents instead of simply passive objects to be called upon.
Catcalling engages issues of hierarchy and ideology. In what situations do females catcall men? In what situations do females have the power to objectify and undermine men? Simply put, they never do. The structure of hierarchy implies that the minority or discriminated group never has the agency or power to discriminate themselves. Any action is performed within that hierarchy. My response to a catcaller is always framed with the male in the right and myself in the wrong. Althusser's police office constructs the situation and appropriates the actions of the passerby without a need for reaction. Because of their respective positions within the system, the act of addressing and calling upon someone places them in the position of vulnerability, object, and minority. Catcalling reifies a structure that says that men are always in a position of power over women.
Retrieved from this site. Stats are specific to Hollaback Boston.
A few organizations, such as Hollaback , are trying to end street harassment. Hollaback focuses on sharing the stories of females who have been harassed in a triple-pronged attempt to promote awareness of how frequent and widespread the issue is, to provide validation for females who have been verbally harassed, and to promote healing through collective storytelling. I hope that initiatives like this can help to make real and present the plight of harassment that females experience every day. We as a society need to move away from victim blaming, listen to the stories of those shamed and objectified, and acknowledge the societal guilt that we all share by allowing this culture to exist. Though I am not knowledeable enough to comment in more depth, I do want to use this post as an opportunity to amplify how these issues often specifically and disproportionately affect women of color and the transgender community.
I had previously started writing a piece in response to the Tal
Fortgang “check your privilege” article.
I wanted to discuss the plethora of space and attention the media (and society)
gives to the white, male, cisgender, able-bodied, heteronormative perspective.
I briefly stopped working on that article when news of UCSB’s campus
attack became public. I immediately thought that Elliot Rodger’s story was perhaps
more deserving of being critiqued. This was when I realized the great
similarities between these two men (albeit very far away on the violence
spectrum) that can be linked to underlying societal de-valuing of trans- and
cis- women. I will address these two situations separately before
critiquing the reinforcement of hegemony that allows us to avoid blaming
ourselves for the rampant presence of continuous threats of rape and death.
For Tal, being told to “check his privilege” is the worst
part of his college experience. Tal’s rejection of his inherent privilege
denied the negative experiences of others (at college or elsewhere) of racial
discrimination, violence, and sexual assault. The stories of so many women,
especially transwomen and women of color, are forever swept under the rug, but
the whining of a Princeton-educated, non-struggling story of Tal are lauded as
examples of how society is forcing white people to feel guilty “just
for existing.” It is quite disheartening to know that one’s story will not
be believed simply because one does not have the access to media forums in
which to express them. Or, even when those stories are told, they are often the
white, cis-woman perspective. Or, when women are threatened, we still rely on the charity of men to raise the alarm and offer suggestions.
I praise the strong, powerful women at other institutions,
such as USC
and Northeastern
(my current and previous institution of higher education) that have shared
their story and fought back against institutions that deny women the right to
say no, and their legal recourse against perpetrators. I was not strong enough
to tell my story. Even with my high level of privilege, I was terrified of the
consequences of reporting my sexual assault by a trusted friend at Northeastern.
The word “survivor” never rang true for me. “Survivor” would imply that I had
faced a natural force, like a tsunami or a disease, and overcame the event and
devastating effects. I didn't, though. I
was faced with a human force, a man in complete control of his actions, a
friend, who I had given my trust to, had made a conscious decision to act,
devalue our friendship, and violate my body. This is, unfortunately, the story
of so many women in collegiate settings, but so few are given the space to
share their stories, or feel that they can freely and without consequence equally
access our rights.
Elliot Rodger’s story is also garnering national attention,
including his manifesto where he declares his hatred of women and need to enact
revenge through murder. Despite such plain, obvious language, some people have
come to Rodger’s defense
by displacing blame from his white, male privilege to mental
illness. One of my colleagues at USC, Francesca Marie Smith, argued that
mental illness can be used as an argumentative strategy to undermine the
culpable of agents in a given situation. Examining the 2011 shooting of Gabby
Giffords, she concluded that a focus on the mental capacity of Jared Lee
Loughner derailed larger conversations about the societal pressures and
political polarization that may have fueled the attack.
Elliot should not be memorialized, lauded, made a hero, or
removed from blame. This was a calculated, terrorist attack on women as a whole because he
had been told “no.” He believed he had a right to the female body as sexual
property and projected his own shortcomings on the failure of (female) others. People
should not watch his videos or read his manifesto: let us not immortalize a misogynist
who decided to take life instead of realize the privilege in his own.
These two stories began and ended very differently. Tal has
certainly upset people with his lack of awareness and care for the stories of
others, but Elliot has murdered. I do not wish to equate these stories; I am
not making claims about “all
men.” I am instead commenting on the attributes that they share and what
this says about our society.
Both are inherently linked to race
and gender, because they laud the white, male perspective over all other bodies. Yes, Elliot was mixed race, but there is no denying his feelings of privilege and superiority that accompany this perspective. Both believe in the power of their privileged body to make decisions and that they have the right to remove of agency from others. Tal and Elliot are not allowed to be told “no,”
especially not by people of color or women. Tal cannot be told to “check his
privilege” and Elliot cannot be denied sex. These are the autonomous decisions
of others that put into question the privilege that Tal and Elliot could not
even recognize they had (being blind to their own condition and the conditions
of others).
These men are just two chapters in the larger story of a society
that allows their privilege to continue unabated, that celebrates and defends
them, and that prevents us from looking inward at our own complicity. If it the
fault of people who question Tal’s struggle, Elliot’s mental condition, or my inebriation,
then society as a whole is declared “not guilty.” We can live in the façade of
a world where these events are mere peppered outliers in a properly functioning
society, instead of symptoms of a diseased organism. Walking down the street or
taking public transportation is an opportunity for women to be yelled at, groped, followed, threatened, or even worse. Even spending time
with trusted friends and family members can lead to the violation of the
female body. Althusser's police officer defines the power structure and everyone's position in it by addressing someone, "Hey you!" When I walk down the street and am called "bitch" while being grabbed from behind, that also defines me without my permission, reaction, or ability to subvert.
We cannot let these stories be drowned out by the mob quick
to defend the current system. We must give space and attention to those that
are fighting for change and awareness of larger issues. We perhaps cannot
change the minds of current misogynists or denialists who will resist at all
costs the crumbling of the society that preferences them. But, with increased
effort, we may be able to usher in new generations brought up in a society that
recognizes the issues that face the majority of us and fosters a culture that
is actively trying to change it.
This was not the intended blog post for this Sunday, but a few recent advertisements have been on my mind, recently. Their repetition on the TV channels I watch and on Hulu has increasingly bothered me in their portrayal of the female. I will link to them both here and then discuss the problems that emerge in the persistent stereotyping (especially gender stereotyping) that occurs in media.
The first commercial is from Verizon, which advertises that if you buy a phone, you'll get a second free. Then, the commercial explores various options for who the second phone should be given to. Attempting humor, the commercial proposes that a girlfriend may enjoy the free phone, "but don't tell her that it's free." The face of the female fades from happy to disgruntled. This commercial plays on the "high maintenance" girlfriend trope where females are not happy or satisfied unless a lot of money has been spent. Shows such as Bridezillas, MTV True Life, arguably every Real Housewives version, emphasize this theme of women as spoiled, needing immediate and constant care, and focused on the material. These stereotypes overpower a more dimensional representation of the female outside of material goods and characterize all women as high maintenance. This description itself is inherently offensive. One's provides maintenance to a car or an object, not to a person. There is the association with a female as an accessory, a tool, an object needing maintenance, improvement, and upgrades in order to function. This also implies that the partner (oftentimes male) in the relationship is the only one with purchasing power. This clip from Bridezillas, featuring Remy and Rob, illustrates the dynamic quite well.
The Verizon commercial bother me, because it ignites these stereotypes as women as only valuing the material, lacking purchasing power, and only superficially strong in their demand of items they cannot provide for themselves. Even in the portrayal of strong women who declare they deserve certain items or treatment, there is an underlying weakness in the women who rely on others for self-validation, respect, and attention.
The second commercial focuses more on the vegetarian as weak, but the non-present character is given a female gender. This is a commercial from Walmart about setting a table for an Easter lunch. The planner describes why certain people are placed in certain spots noting that her vegetarian sister is at the opposite end of the table "so she can't see the ham." My first reaction was one of disgust that a commercial would rely on stereotyping vegetarians as too weak to even see meat. Though this is just a small statement, a lot of information is imparted in a short amount of time to the viewer. The audience is surely meant to consider the planner quite respectful. But, the implications are that vegetarians (and perhaps specifically female ones) cannot stomach the sight of food they cannot consume.
Both of these commercials highlight the importance of stereotyping in the world of advertising. When a company has only 30 seconds to compare one's attention and express the benefits of a product or service, stereotyping is a potential strategy. Originally conceptualized as the images that one sees in one's head, stereotyping is now defined as a mental shortcut that associates certain characteristics with others. There are racial, gender, ethnic, religious, political, and geographic stereotypes, all which connect a person to a host of underlying associations. Stereotyping makes sense if one's goal is to impart information as quickly and as succinctly as possible. The human brain is lazy and would rather use mental shortcuts to absorb, process, and respond to information. Popkin called this "low information rationality" where people tend to use the least amount of information possible to make their decisions. He connected this specifically to voting, where people may vote in elections based solely on a party affiliation, a rumor about a candidate, or even their aesthetic appearance over delving in deeply into issues and more complex information.
Apologies for the video quality. South Park's "Museum of Tolerance"
Though stereotyping may make sense for advertisers, other media theories, such as cultivation, encourage us to reconsider the potential consequences of long term, frequent consumption of media tropes. If females are consistently portrayed as weak, high maintenance, powerless, vulnerable, and other "feminine" characteristics, how can we expect a new generation that is more open to feminism and equality? There are certainly many factors that influence people's attitudes, opinions, and behaviors, but it may not be surprising that a media that reflects and stereotypes females in such as way may also be contributing to other gender-based issues. There are many examples I could pull from, but I will encourage people to look at this video from Fox News about women being paid "what they're worth."
Recently I read Stephen Toulmin's "Tyranny of Principles," an article written in 1981, but one I found highly relevant to current times. Toulmin, perhaps most famous for his Toulmin Model of Argumentation, describes the evolution of rules and laws from traditional discretionary practices in Roman times. I found this piece fascinating because it helps contextualize a common point of controversy in modern judicial and moral arguments, and also because I find rhetoric's roots in the judicial system and its constant tension with "ethics" (the good man speaking well) worthy of discussion.
stealing bread to feed his nephew. Did he steal? Yes. Was this crime worthy of 5 years in jail? To Javert, a servant of God and the Law, there are no mitigating circumstances, a crime is a crime. And even when the tables turn and Valjean lets Javert escape, Javert is still bent on returning Valjean to jail. He eventually experiences a mental break where he cannot justify living in a world where people like Valjean violate his standards of right and wrong.
Philip Quast: Javert's Suicide
The transformation of the judicial system, our reliance on the Constitution and precedent has emphasized the letter over the spirit of the law, removed wiggle room, and devalued mitigating circumstances. One need only consider the death of Savita Halappanavar, who died from birth complications after the abortion she requested was denied. The religious (and in this case Catholic) view of abortion as wholly wrong contributed to Savita's death, whose health was not a justification for the abortion. Many anti-choice advocates do allow for abortion in cases of rape, incest, or the health of the mother, but there are prominent American politicians and even doctors that do not. In response to Savita's death, Irish politicians are attempting to re-legislate the rules concerning abortions and when the health of the mother overrides the abortion ban. As Toulmin argues, society must be wary of an over-reliance on these rules, and must refrain from adjusting laws with more laws, instead of addressing the morality and ethics of the original law.
Toulmin's article is a useful transition for me to discuss inherent discrimination and a lack of equity in
the judicial system that I learned about in a fall class. We discussed the different levels of scrutiny that the courts in America give to different types of discriminatory laws under the equal protection clause. For example, the strictest level of scrutiny is given to laws based on race and national origin, which is a prominent reason why many affirmative action cases lose when brought to court, because they treat people of different races differently. This fact, though in part justified through previous discriminatory measures that make affirmative action necessary, are not mitigating circumstances. The only way for racial discrimination of any kind to be allowed through governmental approval is if there is a "compelling state interest" and the discrimination is the most efficient way to address that interest. A famous example of this is the Japanese Internment Camps that were ruled constitutional since they did address American fears over Japanese immigrants during World War II.
Under strict scrutiny is intermediate scrutiny, for cases of gender discrimination. Under that is rational basis review, where discrimination cases based on sexual orientation or mental health are decided. I find it quite ironic that such levels exist at all. Why are different forms of discrimination created into a hierarchy of discrimination? Isn't this organization in and of itself discriminatory? It seems to me quite hypocritical and unjust for someone to receive different punishments or court ruling simply because they are a different type of bigot than someone else. I find these different strands inextricably linked. How deeply and strongly do we rely on rules of law, and for example, these seemingly hypocritical rules, when they lead to death and discrimination? Toulmin argued that we as a society should not mistake equality for equity, be satisfied with unjust laws, and tie our morality unquestionably to the rule of law. "We need to recognize that a morality based entirely on general rules and principles is tyrannical and dis-proportioned, and that only those who make equitable allowances for subtle individual differences have a proper feeling for the deeper demand of ethics" (p. 107 in Foss's Readings in Contemporary Rhetoric). I would hope that people would learn to be open-minded towards people's circumstances, take into account circumstances and mitigation, and let ourselves be human, reasonable, and overcome our obsession with perfection, black/white dichotomies, and absolutism.