Help! I'm... a feminist romance reader?

This post was written by guest writer Adrienne. She is attending Texas A&M for her Ph.D., where her specialty is detective fiction. She's also a reader of romance.

So so sorry for the long delay. I'm done with the move and have my life back!

Like many other women, I grew up reading romance novels. My family are all very heavy readers, and amidst all types of books, my mother read romances. One of my few fairly useless super powers is the ability to read way too quickly for my own good (my ability to resist mosquitoes is far far more useful). I never could check out enough books from the library, and so I started picking up my parent's books. Eventually my mother discovered and tried to stop my romance nabbing ways.

Now, I'm fairly sure that the reason my mother got upset that I was reading them was because of the *gasp* sexual content. And years later, I regret reading the novels and would never recommend most romances to young girls, but not for the same reason as my mother. These novels gave me a completely unrealistic and unhealthy outlook on sex, myself, and relationships. I do think that readers of romance have a far more complex relationship with the subject matter than previously imagined.¹ Subject matter and ideology is not consumed uncritically. Women frequently twist and turn content to create a more realistic or more personal fantasy. I do not want to suggest that my experience was the same as all young girl's when reading romances, or that my experience was wholly naive, shallow, or one-leveled, and yet it was and probably still is a damaging experience. The romance novels reflect and create (in a nice circle as most literature does) cultural norms and expectations about love, relationships, and sex.

Let me summarize the romance: once upon a time, there was a very special woman who was going through some difficult problems, and she met a very special man who had something missing from his life. They met, gave each other what the other was lacking (for the woman- usually some type of fix to her problem, for the man- usually teaching him to love), they had sublime awesome sex, and lived happily ever after for the rest of their lives.

I'm being both mean and nice in my description, I think. I'm purposefully leaving out many of the most problematic and sexist aspects in order to describe as many types of romances as possible and in some delusional attempt to be fair. I'm also very aware that I'm leaving out many of the ways romance subvert or attempt to subvert gender roles, patriarchy, and traditional relationships.

The lessons that I learned from the hundreds of romances I read? 1) that an individual is incomplete, 2) I'm only important because I'm super special (a princess, a sad orphan abandoned by everyone and now chased by someone powerful and evil, a slave with super brain powers and the heart of gold, etc), 3) that sex is perfect and completely mind blowing (and man was I excited about this), 4) that love is only real if it's forever, and 5) that my future partner has to continually sweep me off my feet. If I wanted to be really and truly honest with myself, I would say that I still struggle with each and every one of these concepts even though my head understands that all of them are complete and utter bullshit. On the upside, I think contemporary romance novels (specifically certain types like chick lit and paranormal) are trying (keyword: trying) to combat a few of these: specifically 1, 2, and 4.

I'm going to use Sandra Booth's sub-genre summaries to explore movements from the 70s onward. The traditional romance prominent in the 1970s and frequently returned to through the decades has an amoral stock hero and a virginal and virtuous heroine.² This reinforces gender stereotypes and promotes a culture in which un-angelic women (adventurous, sexual, etc) are bad women and therefore undeserving of protection from rape (frequently "asking for it").³

Romance frequently makes force, coercion, or men's lack of sexual control sexy and romantic. And that's so dangerous. Obvious, right? Apparently not. Yes, it is a fantasy. And as many critics have said- it's important to think of this as a fantasy and to accept that women don't uncritically consume this. But these are published and consumed in a rape culture. We don't usually fantasize about things completely related OR completely unrelated to us.

Romance in the 80s began to more frequently lessen gender stereotypes and weaken these rape myths. The hero moved from being amoral to "following the heroine's moral 'norm'" (96). Paranormal romance and humorous feminist romance began to emerge in large numbers during the 90s. Originally (as Sandra Booth contends) the paranormal was a regressive return to angel/monster dichotomy⁴ and humorous romance was the successful feminist and anti-patriarchal romance sub-genre.

I'm happy to say, that I think paranormal is slowly becoming a sub-genre in which some of the most exciting queer or feminist romances can currently be found. One of the reasons that paranormal is such a hopeful and interesting place for progressive work is the desire (and semi-ability) to create a social structure outside of normal (aka heteronormative patriarchal) structure. Society can have totally different rules- e.g. it can be matriarchal or androgynous.

Although Lynn Coddington wants us to believe that romances aren't "formulaic" and are wrongly assumed to be "universally badly written," I only partially agree with her (62). As with most popular culture, there is an erroneous assumption that romance isn't art and therefore isn't well written. That's utter crap. And crap a lot of us believe. Our dear blog mistress (and my dear friend) Courtney recently told me how surprised she was to enjoy Gail Carriger's parasol series because she assumed most of "that type" of fiction was badly written. There are many romance authors that are beautiful writers. But not formulaic? I just don't buy it. I've read thousands. And while yes... there are some surprises, some diversity... publishers still pay very close attention to what is in demand and what formula is currently popular. There are formulas. And when we read that formula over and over again, surely we start to believe and internalize the formula. For Coddington, "Romances are not all the same. They do not construct gender relations in uniform way, and they do not tell trivial stories. They represent a range of possible gender constructions," and I call bullshit (66). That range of possibilities only cover a few feet on a mile long continuum of gender constructions. And the idea that we've created some possibilities for women so we can stop is a very damaging and complacent place.

But there are some romance novels that I applaud. Because this is long already, I'm going to pick three from paranormal detective/romance that I'm excited about. I'd love readers to respond with other genres, sub-genres, and/or specific authors which respond to the issues I've raised in this post.

Laurell K.Hamilton. I found Guilty Pleasures in the young adult section of my library when I was in jr. high . I've been a fan ever since. Although problematic in many ways (writing, editing, etc), I applaud her for creating a powerful female who has frequently focused on her job. They're decidedly non-monogamous, they definitely challenge concepts about the monster/angel dichotomy, and they're sexy. Packed full of all different sorts of sex. I actually wish reader response wouldn't jump so frequently on the "OMG she's a slut" bandwagon. I wish the books were more glbtia friendly (although there seems to be a nice move that way). And I hold my breath because the baby discussion has come up a few times now. Child free by choice... please don't leave me now.

One of my favorites is Charlaine Harris's works- all of them not just the Sookie Stackhouse series. The trend to not have one relationship, not be happily ever after, is one of the most successful and prevalent in recent work. In the Sookie series, she dates, it doesn't work, they break up. She's single sometimes, and she's in different relationships other times. It's a nice pattern, a realistic pattern. The Grave series deals with issues of incest, questions social stigmas in relationships, and plays with the concept of female community and female victimhood. The Shakespeare series very purposefully focuses on abuse.

Kim Harrison's Rachel Morgan series. This series deals with questions of class, race, gender, sexual orientation galore. Talk about novels that question authority, structural patriarchy, and male power. They also have interesting sexual dynamics, and create not just a strong heroine but a strong community of characters. There is continuously more of a focus on peer and friend relationships over romantic relationships.

These definitely fight misconceptions about love and relationships that I raised earlier including that love is forever and that an individual is incomplete without a partner. Paranormal romances are definitely not good at addressing the "special" problem (paranormal heroines are usually the only vampire/werewolf hybrid or the long lost fairie or the alien queen), but other types of romances have more successfully addressed this. I would also like to see more novels that portrays sex as realistic - less "holy crap mindblowing can't think of anything during sex but that sex is awesome." We all know that sometimes in the middle of sex we think "Oh shit, is the oven on?", and that's okay.

As I've been thinking about and reading up on romance, I've discovered that romances also helped me learn that 1) I can be an empowered woman, 2) I can be sex-positive, 3) women can be subjects and women-focused, and 4) women's bodies are beautiful. I'm excited and hopeful for a positive progression that leans towards these lessons with less of the negativity that for so long has accompanied the romance.

I also applaud romance for being a genre written by women for women. And romance is a wonderfully give and take process.⁵ Indeed, the few blogs of romance authors that I check out occasionally, have a far more interactive author/fan base than the general literature/fiction author has.

I want more out of the romance genre. And I want other fans and authors to understand and want more as well. We deserve it.

Further reading on being a feminist romance reader:

There are a number of resources about being a feminist and a romance reader like Kay Mussell's interview: Are Feminism & Romance Novels Incompatible , Catherine Asaro's response to the same question, College Candy's Defense of Romance Novels, and of course Smart Bitches Trashy Books has taken up this issue a number of times including Feminism is a Dirty Word and their book Beyond Heaving Bosoms.

Notes

¹ This has been suggested in work on the romance genre by scholars such as Lynn Coddington, Janice Radway, and Laura Kinsale.
² Sandra Booth explains that the traditional romance "acts as a vehicle to display the heroine's virtue... The hero [amoral and unstoppable] acts as a foil to the heroine who is presented as the moral 'norm.' Because she must assert and protect her virtue, the heroine in the traditional romance is often presented as passive, self-sacrificing, and virginal" (94-95).
³ Also Tania Modelski points out that "The myth that men are unable to control their sexual drive beyond a point and that women lead men on- and so deserve what they get- by accepting romantic or sexual overtures from them is a myth that has all too often proved lethal to women" (17).
⁴ The construct where the heroine is angelic and perfect, and the hero is monstrous and violent. Very Beauty and the Beast esque. Only we know that the Beast really is a monster and doesn't have this shining heart of gold.
⁵ Lee Tabin-McClain points out that "Romance formulae differ from earlier generic patterns in that they change based on intensive publisher research into reader preference... other aspects of romance fiction give it a sense of a collective authorship" (296).

References

Booth, Sandra. "Paradox in Popular Romances of the 1990s: The Paranormal Versus Feminist Humor." Paradoxa 3 (1997): 94-106.

Coddington, Lynn. "Wavering Between Worlds: Feminist Influences in the Romance Genre." Paradoxa 3 (1997): 58-77.

Modleski, Tania. "My Life as a Romance Reader." Paradoxa 3 (1997): 15-28.

Modleski, Tania. "My Life as a Romance Writer." Paradoxa 4 (1998): 134-147.

Tobin-McClain, Lee. "Paranormal Romance: Secrets of the Female Fantastic." Journal of the Fantastic in the Arts 11 (2000): 294-306.

Amanda Hess and being a feminist geek

So, I have an interview up at The Sexist! It's here. And it was also linked on Border House! (If you are feminist geek and don't follow Border House, get on it. Yesterday.) I talk about being a feminist/lady geek, subversive cosplay and how male geeks sometimes just want you to be their sex objects. It's exciting!

There's also a rather fabulous bit about the complicatedness of "sexy" cosplay at Sexy Geekery:

The issue is something that Courtney mentions–can any of this be reclaiming of female sexuality and femininity, which is pretty much not allowed to exist on its own terms in scifi? I feel like the opportunity is there. Women can be sexual, and even in a “mainstream sexy” kind of way, on their own terms. It’s so hard to define so much of this, though–where are we are genuinely enjoying this, and where are we enjoying the attention? (Because yes, attention can be fun.) I find this relevant because it’s an issue I have when dating–I have often considered punching a boy in the jaw for pushing too hard for me to buy “sexy” undergarments, even though it so happens that black lacy skivvies delight me. Just, like, let me buy them on my own terms, dude. Do I feel hypocritical? Sure. Does it change the fact that one motivation (and often different shopping location) makes me feel skeezy, while the other doesn’t. Likewise, can one girl wear the same costume and feel both of those feelings? Of course. Can two girls wear the exact same costume and one be motivated by feminism and the other by self-objectification? I don’t see why not. Does this become a tangled mess of how do we define and how do we express? Oh fuck yes.

Yes! It is possible, I think, to be progressive, to be feminist, and dressed "sexy" in cosplay. Because dressing sexy is also being a sexual agent (not all costumes are, obviously, but some certainly), which is a radical thing as a geek lady. The reason I find the less "sexy" femme Doctor cosplays more encouraging is that dressing sexy in geek culture is always within the context of the fact that for many male geeks, the only way women being in their communities is okay is if they are objectified, sexy versions of their geek obsessions. That is slightly less true in mainstream culture, where the ability to be objectified second and sexual first is easier (though not easy) and more fruitful. But! It is a conversation feminist geeks need to have, because while I find certain femme Doctor cosplays happier than others, I also don't want to claim categorically that only certain cosplays are feminist and others simply not. That's just incorrect.

Post your comments about cosplay or the interview or just being a lady geek below!
(For those that commented elsewhere because I was slow as shit getting this up, thank you! I appreciate all your insight and sister/brotherhood. Seriously.)

UPDATE: Part Duex; or, Make Your Dude-Dominated Subculture More Accessible to Women

It's summer. Time for the slut-shaming!

[Trigger warning. This post discusses slut-shaming tactics aimed toward victims of sexual assault and rape.]

I was going to finish a blog post on the serious topics of "Why I can't fucking stand scientists sometimes" or, "Why manfiction almost made me not become an English major," but slut-shaming in the Battalion is so much more fun! And you can already tell that this article is bad. Look at the picture included! It's fucking infuriating! The implication is that women only dress to be "hot" for men, and that said men are totally fine with sending contradictory messages about what is "hot," via the sexualization of women in advertising, movies, music videos, etc. and simultaneous slut-shaming. Women must be both modest and "hot"! And they must CONSTANTLY care about how men are judging their attire! And men are allowed to judge their bodies and their clothing all the time, because women's bodies are public property, donchta know? You may think that you have the right to wear whatever the fuck you want to (especially when it is 100 fucking degrees outside), but you, Matthew Poarch is here to tell you, are wrong! Women's bodies are not their own! They exist to be policed by fine gentlemen like himself. Fine gentlemen who suggest that raping is the fault of sluttily-dressed ladies, not, you know, rapists.

Summer doesn’t have to mean skimpy. We all know it’s hot, but the clothes - or lack thereof - worn around this time of year leave little to the imagination. It seems like I can’t walk anywhere in town without seeing a half-clothed woman shamelessly flaunting her attributes for the entire world to see. Not only does this have potential for personal safety concerns, but it also leads to poor first impressions.

Oh no! Is my awesome rack distracting Matthew Poarch? Well, then I MUST leave this tube top at home. His imagination and discomfort are so much more important than my own comfort or desires. Also, OBVIOUSLY this tube top will "get me" raped, especially if I am "stupid" enough to drink alcohol.

Those who frequent situations with alcohol should carefully consider how their clothes strike the people around them. Even though women should be safe no matter what, showing too much skin when around men who are more prone to elevated emotions and lowered inhibitions can lead to dangerous situations.

Even those who seem perfectly trustworthy have the capacity to make incredibly stupid decisions under the influence. There is no acceptable reason for men to act like animals, but showing too much skin in these situations can heighten the inherent dangers.

By dressing to attract attention, remember this includes unwanted attention. Sexual assault, stalking and harassment are not issues to be tossed around lightly, but in this context, they are of utmost importance. Nobody wants to be in a situation that could endanger them even slightly; dressing a little more modestly in that environment can be a preventative measure.

Um, fuck you? Rape apologists will never get tired of repeating this old hat, will they? Because that's what this makes you, Michael, a RAPE APOLOGIST. Don't fool yourself that the little line that "there is no acceptable reason for emn to act like animals" somehow balances out your claims that women who dress a particular way are asking for "unwanted attention." You know what prevents rape? MEN NOT RAPING. (That link is hilarious, by the way.) Not women dressing a particular way, or dancing a particular way, or drinking alcohol in a public place.* "Being safe" shouldn't involve abstaining from REGULAR things that young women (particularly in a college town) do, like dressing like they want to have (consensual) sex (clutching! pearls!), or drinking alcohol in a bar. And the onus should never, ever be on women to "be safe," but on men to NOT RAPE.

Immodest dress also does not portray an image of dignity or self-respect. “It looks like they’re just rebelling or trying to be cool,” said Dane Molire, a senior biomedical science major. “It makes them seem like they’re immature.”

Women shouldn’t have to worry about impressing men, especially at the expense of their self-respect and safety. Guys who do think that a women should dress down to show off are not worth the trouble anyway. A man who is impressed by the very thing that revealing clothes accentuate will most likely be shallow and disrespectful.

Disrespectful like a man who thinks that all B/CS** women's clothing choices properly fall under his personal judgment?  Apparently, "women shouldn't have to worry about impressing men," except Matthew. And Dane. THOSE are the men you have to impress, ladies. THEY'RE "worth the trouble," presumably because of their gentlemanliness, as shown by their ability to call you "immature" and suggest that you are asking for rape with your high heels and miniskirt.

The way you dress also sets an example for the younger girls, who can be more impressionable and care more about being cool. Daisy Dukes and a revealing half of a top are creepy and inappropriate on younger girls.

“I wish it wasn’t the style to be immodest,” said Amanda Boudreaux, a senior meteorology major. “When you go to the pool, if you’re covered, you aren’t following the ‘cool’ trend.”

Of course Matthew couldn't write an article about ladies ruining the world (that is, Matt's personal walks about town) with their skimpy clothes without asking WHAT ABOUT THE CHILDREN. It's WOMEN'S fault that young children pick up on the fact that women are sexualized in our culture, natch.

Look, I absolutely believe that Amanda Boudreaux should wear whatever the fuck she wants to at the pool. Or anywhere else. But, it's not every other womans' job to make sure SHE feels comfortable in public. Anymore than it's every womans' job to make Matt feel comfortable, or Dan, or any other misogynistic douche who thinks that women's bodies are under their constant purview. Yes, it's a problem that the "trend," as Amanda puts it, is to publicly sexualize women and make sure that they know constantly that they are subject to objectification. But Matthew? He is still objectifying! He completely disregards the desires of individual women dressing in the way he finds so offensive. He argues that women should still dress to impress men (see: My opinion means everything! Because of my penis! And gentlemanliness!). He thinks he has the right to judge and comment on the clothing choices of women he doesn't even know. He is still treating women like their BODIES ARE PUBLIC.

Matthew's entire article is mansplaining through and through. "Let me mansplain to you ladies," he says, "about what your clothes mean! Also, how they will 'get you' raped! Also, how to attract the good menz, which I will define for you as 'like me.' What? You have your own desires for menz? Your desires are wrong. You want the gentlemenz. I promise."

It ends on a high note:

According to the Bible, Christianity is a religion that emphasizes modest clothing. As the apostle Paul wrote in 1 Timothy 2:9, “women should adorn themselves in respectable apparel, with modesty and self-control.” The direct consequence of immodesty is to arouse illicit desires in men. More importantly, revealing clothes do not reflect the image of one who respects her body. God has called his children to a life of purity and holiness that extends beyond a once a week service. Christianity, however, is not the only religion that supports modesty, and even those with no religious affiliation can benefit from covering up.


Yes, it’s hot, but please dress in a way that shows dignity and class rather than skin. Dressing modestly is not only safer, but it reflects true character and self-respect, along with respect for others.

Why should you dress the way Matthew wants you to? Because another man, Paul (the Bible's resident douchebag), says so. Even if you're not Christian, though, Matthew feels entitled to comment on your clothes! (As an atheist, Matt, thanks for the reassurance that you are authorized to judge my clothing choices!)

Matthew Proacher to should be ashamed of himself. And the Battalion editorial staff should be ashamed of themselves, too.

*Of course, some women do rape, and some men are rape survivors or victims. I'm not trying to diminish that. But Matthew is, of course, talking about the more frequent scenario, in which a male perpetrator rapes a woman.

**That's Bryan/College Station, for the uninitiated.

Doctor Who fans are uncomfortable with women who want what they want.

Television! That may or may not be what I've been doing with my summer. This is a Doctor Who post, but I want to start with the awesomeness that is Glee, so we can start on a happy note before I get all pissy with DW fans. So, Kurt's dad? Kurt's dad makes me wish I could have him for my dad. He's so awesome! Every time the man talks, he makes me cry. Literally. This week (in the Gaga! episode), he gets onto Finn for being a homphobic dick to Kurt. (Transcript below.)

[Boo! The video was removed from YouTube.]

[Update: Here is a shittier version.]



Kurt: It's just a room Finn! We can redecorate it if you want to.

Finn: Okay. Good. Well, then FIRST thing that needs to go is that faggy lamp. A-and then, we need to get rid of this faggy couch blanket...

Burt, walking in: Hey! What did you just call him?

Finn: Oh, oh no. I didn't call him anything. I was talking to the blanket.

Burt: No, you use that word, you're talking about him.

Kurt: Relax, Dad. I didn't take it that way.

Burt: Yeah, that's because you're 16 and still assume the best in people. You live a few years, you start seeing the hate in people's hearts. Even the best people. [To Finn] You use the N-word?

Finn: Of course not.

Burt: Yeah, how 'bout retard? You call that nice girl in Cheerios [the cheerleading team], with Kurt, you call her a retard?

Finn: Becky? No, she's my friend, she's got Downs Syndrome. I'd never call her that, that's cruel.

Burt: But you think it's okay to come in my house and say faggy?

Finn: That's not what I meant...

Burt [interrupting]: I know what you meant! What, you think I didn't use that word when I was your age? You know, some, some kid gets clocked in practice, we'd tell him to stop being such a fag, shake it off. We meant it exactly the way you meant it. That being gay is wrong, that it's some kind of punishable offense. I really thought you were different, Finn. You know, I thought that being in Glee club, and being raised by your mom, that you were some, you know, new generation of dude, who saw things differently. Who just kinda, you know, came into the world, knowing what's it's taken me years of struggling to figure out. I guess I was wrong. I'm sorry, Finn, but you can't stay here.

Kurt: Dad.

Burt: I love your mom, and maybe this is going to cost me her. But my family comes first. I can't have that kind of poison around. [Turns to Kurt.] This is our home, Kurt. [Turns back to Finn.] He is my son. Out in the world, you do what you want. Not under my roof.

[Finn walks away. Burt turns to Kurt again.]

Burt: Place looks great.

[Burt walks past Kurt and puts his hand on his shoulder, leaving it there. Kurt touches it with his hand.]

*Sniff*

Okay, let's talk about Doctor Who! (Spoiler alert, obviously.) First, Moffat has been exceeding my expectations! I worry about him sometimes. But he seems to have matured from the lowest-dominator misogyny of Coupling. (If you haven't seen that, it's like Friends, but more sexist.) I'm still a bit weary, but so far, I am extremely pleased with the Doctor, Amy, and Rory (oh, Rory! I hope you come back), and their relationships. The depiction of the female characters in this series has been impressively three-dimensional and inoffensive.*

That said, there have been some issues. The first I want to talk about is the end of Flesh and Stone. (Yes, I'm behind on this. I know.) The scene where Amy assaults the Doctor was complicated for me.** For one, I love that Amy takes charge of her sexual desires, and that we get to see a healthy adult woman decide to have a one-night stand. It's great! Amy wants sex, knows what she wants, and goes and gets it! Unfortunately, even once the Doctor decidedly says no, she continues to force herself on him, and it starts to get uncomfortable. Not uncomfortable in a look-at-the-poor-Doctor-isn't-it-funny-that-she-won't-stop-kissing-him kind of way, uncomfortable in an oh-god-nearly-every-woman-watching-this-has-had-that-happen-to-her kind of way. The Doctor said no, Amy ignored his non-consent, and continued to try and have sex with him. I'm all for women taking the initiative in sexual contact if they want to, but once a partner has made it clear they are not consenting, YOU STOP. Period. What she should have done, after kissing him and having him pull away from her, is stop trying to touch him and undress him. Several commenters on a recent Shakesville Doctor Who open thread mentioned that this was sexual assault, but the best explanation I found was at Reconciliate:

Do you really think that was sexual assault?

Yes, I really do. The Doctor’s nonconsent was obvious and constant, and Amy did not pay attention to it at all. Sexually touching someone–in this case, attempting to remove their clothes or kissing them–after they have indicated their nonconsent, is sexual assault.

But it didn’t look like sexual assault to me. Sexual assault is violent and serious.

I hear this a lot in rape apology. Often sexual assault that does not take place in a police/military/corporate context involves no weapons nor punching nor direct physical dominance. Many sexual assault victims think of their experience as “the time that person had sex with me/touched me/kissed me and I didn’t want them to,” because they feel as though sexual assault is a concept that should be reserved for something serious.

The truth is, that’s all there is to sexual assault: you indicated you didn’t want to have sexual contact, but somebody made sexual contact with you anyway. (Sexual assault can also happen if someone makes sexual contact with you without giving you a chance to consent.) While sexual assault with a weapon or accompanied by a physical beating can often be more traumatizing to a victim (for example, higher rates of PTSD), any sexual assault is violent.

[...]

If Amy thought the Doctor had bad or irrelevant reasons for not wanting sex and wanted to address them, she could have dealt with his concerns before attempting to take off his clothes or kiss him again. She could have stopped touching him and explained that she just wanted one night, not a lifetime relationship.

She didn’t, though. She continually grabbed at him and tried to undress him while he was making his protests and without waiting for his consent. In fact, she showed a total disregard, throughout the scene, for his nonconsent, despite the fact that he was physically and verbally showing her he was flustered, upset, and unwilling. Although the word “no” didn’t pass his lips, he was still saying no every time he physically removed himself, shoved her hands away, redressed himself, and verbally gave reasons he did not want to have sex.

His “no” is unmistakable except by people who have an interest in not hearing it. This is common in instances of sexual assault. Most sexual-assaulters would claim they could tell their victim really wanted it, no matter how explicit the no was.

It's frustrating for me, because Amy's sexuality, and her refusal to be ashamed of it, is one of her best characteristics. So why did the DW writers feel like it was appropriate to turn this scene into one of sexual assault, where Amy find non-consent to be a joke? It felt like this scene was supposed to be funny in a similar way that the Doctor popping out of Rory's bachelor party cake was funny. Amy certainly thinks it's funny, and her cracks during the scene (I'm 907! Don't you know what that means?--It's been a while?) are supposed to make the audience laugh. In the middle of a scene where one character is sexually assaulting another. The writers don't seem to be able to imagine a confident, healthy woman who likes sex without imagining her as unconcerned with her partners' consent. Which I find depressingly disappointing.

Worse than the writer's inability to imagine a respectful sexual woman, however, was the fan reaction, which I wouldn't have even known about (particularly since I haven't listened to DW podcasts in for-fucking-ever) if all my fave feminist bloggers weren't Doctor Who enthusiasts. Kate Harding documents the oh-so-frustrating douchey fan reaction to this episode:

Not only is there slut-shaming galore (I forgot to mention that Amy’s supposed to get married in the morning, so OMG HOW COULD SHE?) but there are several people advancing the theory that her hitting on the Doctor is meant to be read as evidence of mental illness (by which they seem to mean daddy issues and low self-esteem, mostly, but they’re framing it in terms of a disorder). Simply because she wants to have sex with what appears to be a very cute twentysomething guy (ok, he’s a 900-year-old alien, but still) after going through several adrenaline-pumping adventures with him. Previous companions in the new version have either mooned over the Doctor endlessly or kept it strictly platonic, and on a show about time and space travel and aliens and monsters, the fact that no one’s tried to bone him yet has strained my credulity more than just about anything else.

[...In Doctor Who Confidential] the show runner, Steven Moffat (who’s been accused lots of times of being anti-feminist, but whatever, that’s another post) says: ”Here’s this man, this generally rather good-looking man — sometimes older, sometimes younger, but generally good-looking — who’s wonderful, funny, passionate and kind, and the nicest, bestest human being (apparently), you’ll ever meet. And all those girls… didn’t notice? Ever? Not once?” GOD, THANK YOU. ABOUT TIME. Yes, previous companions have been crazy about him, but only in a “You are my One True Love and I will wait around until you think of me that way, which I know you never will” way, so later, Moffat explicitly states the obvious: Unlike them, Amy’s just looking for a romp, not true love, because why not? See also the part around 3:05 where Karen Gillan, who plays Amy, gives her reasoning for why the character went for it: “I don’t know, sometimes you do things in the heat of the moment…when you’re, like, excited, and you’ve shared something with someone and… [shrug].” Indeed. NOT ROCKET SCIENCE.

And yet. Precisely because she just wants sex, a disturbing number of people can’t figure out her motivation. There must be something deeper — something dark and fucked up, in fact — because a young woman just wanting a roll in the hay because hey, you’re here and you’re hot and all that stuff we just did was kind of mind-blowing? Well, that makes no sense whatsoever! To take that at face value, you’d have to believe that girls like sex or something!

WHAT THE FUCK, DOCTOR WHO FANS. It's all okay as long as Amy Pond is our eye-candy hot girl in a miniskirt, doing what she does because it's sexy for us, but as soon as she expresses desires of her own***, she's pathologized? Fuck that noise. I'm going to blow your minds for a minute: Women often like sex. Women sometimes choose, without being mentally fucked up, to have casual sex. These are true facts!

But not only do Doctor Who fans think that Amy is a screwed-up slut for her sex-liking, but mentally ill for also not liking the babies inside her! I've added this blog, Behind the Sofa, to my feed reader recently, and it's not usually groundbreaking or anything, but better than average when it comes to episode-by-episode blog reviews****. Usually when I disagree with these guys, it's in a friendly manner. They tend to not make me want to punch them. But when I saw Neil Perryman's review of Amy's Choice, I almost had an aneurysm. Okay, not really. But I did get super pissed. It just hit me in the face, because I actually liked the review:

In Star Trek this would be the result of a quaintly segregated parallel universe or a bizarre transporter accident but in Doctor Who we are told to accept the fact that the villain of the piece is buried deep within the psyche of our hero. And still is.

How macabre is that?

Did you steal into my heart, Neil Perryman, to figure out why I loved this episode so much? And:

I've noticed that some Pond/Gillan scepticism has reared its head over the last couple of weeks. I just don't get it. Yes, she's full of contradictions, kooky mannerisms and bouts of selfishness but that just makes her feel like a fully-rounded character to me. Even if the crack of doom isn't exerting a malign influence over Amy, her actions seem perfectly reasonable when examined in context.

I love that he loves Amy! And finds Amy scepticism to be silly! Unfortunately, what he doesn't find "perfectly reasonable" is that Amy isn't consumed in rapture because of her unborn child in this episode:

Amy's lack of compassion for her unborn child, as she hastily cobbles together s [sic] suicide pact with the Doctor, could simply be interpreted as yet another subtle clue that the OAP world wasn't real, even if I'm still surprised that the Doctor would go along with her plan considering that he didn't know for sure that she was right, and she wasn't exactly thinking straight having just seen Rory crumble to dust like that.

UGH. I found Amy's pregnancy, and decision to commit suicide even while pregnant, to be perfectly realistic. Especially when it becomes perfectly clear that she doesn't actually want a baby. (Also normal! Not all women want babies!) She chooses the chance of having Rory alive over her baby, and I don't get how this is an irrational or unbelievable choice. Is it because she's a woman? If she was pregnant in the hospital and had to have risky surgery, and the surgeon told Rory they may need to choose between saving her and saving the baby, would Neil Perryman argue that Rory choosing Amy (and not just Amy, but the mere chance of her surviving) is a "subtle clue" that there's something wrong?

Not all women see their bodies as mere incubation containers for the glorious baby-flesh that is inside them when they are pregnant, and are thus quite capable of making decisions that put that baby in danger when they think it's necessary. That doesn't make them mentally ill or whatever. It makes them people who can make their own damn decisions. Like, you know, men.

Even professed Amy-lovers, then, seem to have issues with Amy not following the Patriarchal Narrative of Ladyness, in which she is sexy Only For Men, keeps it in her pants except in Serious Relationships, and Want Babies. Also, Love Them more than herself or Rory. Do you see why I am repelled by Doctor Who fandom?! It is distressing. I am distressed.

*Has anyone else noticed that Doctor Who has pretty much NEVER had an episode pass the Bechdel test? Even when the show has two women (very rarely), all they really ever talk about is the Doctor. Is this different in the classic series?

**I should preface this by pointing out that I am no purist (although I find the arguments that the Doctor is always and forever asexual in the classic series unconvincing, since he starts in the TARDIS with his granddaughter?). I love seeing sex and relationships in television shows because they are present in real life. Without them, it all feels a little Victorian. Which is to say, we all know it's happening, we just don't talk about it. Because sex is dirty and shameful. I'm under the impression that most DW fans who want so very desperately for the Doctor to be chaste have issues. Like, lady issues. My friend Amy asked me what the fuck was up with the anti-River Song movement among fans, and I told her that they are probably mostly anti-Doctor-romance, and don't think the Doctor would ever sully himself with vaginas. Anyway, I find a lack of any sex in Doctor Who totally unrealistic. Why the hell wouldn't the Doctor find any of his companions attractive? They totally are! And he's super hot lately!

***I was going to say, and not for laughs, but this scene appears, as I said, to be intended to be funny. The other moments where we see Amy Pond owning her own desire are also usually wrapped in humor (because nothing's funnier than a LADY liking SEX).

****Unfortunately, it also has seven contributors, ALL MEN. What the hell is up with that?

Quick hits in lieu of me procrastinating via blogging

After the Rethinking Virginity conference over at Harvard, Lori put together 10 myths about sex and virginity and debunked them. My favorite is Myth #6: There's one universal definition of sex.

Amanda at The Sexist reminds us to check our privilege when facing slurs that compare us to other, more marginalized people. 

Listen: I’m a heterosexual cisgender thin able-bodied atheist white lady. If someone attempts to insult me by using a slur that’s offensive to gays, or trans people, or a racial group, or the disabled, or fat people, or a religious group, it’s unhelpful for me to respond by saying, for example, “That’s offensive to gays, and also, I’m personally offended that you would ever compare me to a gay person.”

That means you, US Airways.

Via Shakesville, John McCain is now officially against constitutional rights. But only if you did something illegal. And you're brown.

"Obviously [Mirandizing attempted Times Square car bomber Faisal Shahzad] would be a serious mistake...at least until we find out as much information we have. … Don't give this guy his Miranda rights until we find out what it's all about."—Senator John McCain, arguing that an American citizen should not be read his Miranda rights, lest, I guess, he be accidentally afforded those rights. Or something.

 Melissa just isn't American enough to know that withholding rights from U.S. citizens is totally patriotic now.

And now, work to do! Seminar papers to write!

Oh, last issue of Maroon Weekly! You make me so angry.

You know what is the best of all procrastination methods? Blogging! So, if you regular readers are like, "Holy shit, Courtney, are you on crack? Four posts in one weekend?" the answer is no, I am not on crack. I am avoiding paper-writing. Well, not avoiding. Just break-taking. A lot. But I am still writing things! So, neutral?

Anyway! Maroon Weekly! It is often horrifying! Let's talk about it. Last Thursday was the last of the issues this semester, and it was a doozy. Shorter Autumn Dawson: "Obama is teh worstest of all presidents! Liberals are sheeple for voting for him! Obama is un-American! Obama has done more damage than Bush! Also, Christians are totally persecuted in the U.S.!" I wish I was exaggerating. The best part is the claim that liberals are sheeple who voted for Obama without thinking. (Yes, the people who voted for McCain/Palin were thinking really hard about what that would mean for our country. Whereas liberals were just, "Oh! Black guy! I has vote?") The suggestion seems to be that Autumn doesn't understand how Obama was voted. I can tell her: by a majority. All presidents, barring electoral nonsense, are voted in by the majority of people. Does that mean all presidents (except Bush) were voted in by brainless sheeple? Is this yet another conservative claim that we should limit the vote to people who matter? (We all know what that's code for.) Autumn suggests that Obama is failing even at being liberal, and that liberals have unthinkingly gotten us into a mess that even they don't like. (You know what my liberal friends who voted for Obama and I don't like about Obama? That he isn't being liberal enough. He still hasn't made DADT a priority. He still keeps throwing women under the bus. He didn't push for single-payer hard enough. And etc.) This article was so fucking ridiculous I had a hard time reading it all the way through. I handed it to a friend, whose reaction was similar. About two paragraphs in, he handed it back to me.

And then, the "Love Connection!" Written by our favorite resident misogynist! In this edition of "Cody Lillich gives judgmental and generally terrible advice," Teri asks the "Love Doctor" how to move from an open relationship to a closed one.

Dear LC,

I’ve been in an open relationship with Tim for about 4 months. We both have really busy schedules, and we decided early on that commitment–for either of us–was impossible. So we decided we would spend time together when we could (once or twice a week), and that’s worked out fine.

I’ve never asked him if he’d been on other dates or if he’d fooled around. Although I’ve been curious. He never asked me, either. Honestly, I haven’t seen anyone else since we started the relationship. I’ve left the door open for anything, just in case something came along. But I’m so busy and focused on other things, so the time I spend with Tim is enough for me.

Last week I was joking with him about all of the other guys I’d been seeing. Just for fun, just to get a reaction, in a flirty way. Tim said, “That’s good to know. Now I don’t feel bad.” But he didn’t say it in a flirty, joking way. He was serious.

It turns out Tim has been seeing two other girls the whole time. And I don’t know why, but I feel jealous. I knew the rules when I jumped into this, but still, my heart sank when he told me. When we agreed in the beginning to not have anything serious, I was fine with the idea. But now…I actually have feelings for him and I do feel like I want him in a closed relationship. How do I go about asking him to date just me? Is it possible?

Second-Thoughts Teri

There are a lot of sensitive, thoughtful, and genuinely helpful responses that one could give to Teri's dilemma. Cody's is not one of them:

Open relationships are for porn stars, hookers and gigolos. In fact, the words “open” and “relationship” don’t make sense next to each other. It’s a paradox. It’s like saying the door is open closed. So call it what it is: promiscuous dating. You guys are just friends with benefits (and apparently he’s had more benefits than you).

Is this guy allergic to sensitivity? Could he be any more fucking judgmental? Also, is he living in a box? Tons of people have open relationships. Successful open relationships. It is not a paradox. And it is not necessarily "promiscuous dating" or "friends with benefits." There are even books written to help people navigate the different kinds of open relationships they can have. (The Ethical Slut is a good starting place.) Open relationships (or poly relationships) are not for everyone; but then, neither are monogamous ones. In short, Cody is being an ignorant asshat.

Of course you like him now and want commitment. He made you jealous, told you that you’re one of the two other hot chicks he’s been doing. But ask yourself if the feelings would be the same if you had also been fooling around with other guys?

Listen, these dating games only work when there’s no contractual terminology. The word “relationship” implies a contract, even if it’s tenuous next to the word “open.” Next time, get your terms straight from the beginning. Steer clear from labels that might bind you. Just say “Let’s date,” or “Let’s just have fun,” or “I’m not looking for anything serious right now.” But you’ll only be able to say these things if you really mean them. Make sure your skin is thick enough to deal with the possibility of a guy with multiple women. And make sure your heart is out of it.

 And, sure. You can ask him if he’d like a closed relationship with you. But good luck getting him to kick two other girls out of bed.

Actually, open relationships work best if there is "contractual terminology." The reason that Teri and Tim are having issues is because she is not talking to him honestly, and he is not talking to her honestly. The only real solution to this problem is an honest and open conversation between the two of them about what they want. And Teri needs to consider whether she would be open to a poly relationship, albeit one that is more committed than they currently have. You can care for someone (keeping "your heart" definitively in it) and still have an open relationship (which can mean a number of things).

Cody's advice is non-advice. He tells Teri to forget it, basically, because he assumes that every man is as big of an asshole as he is. Cody acts like all men care about is sex (Obviously, no self-respecting man would want to have a relationship with icky women. Gross.) and that if women don't trick men into having relationships with them, and use sex as a bargaining chip, they'll never have satisfying (as if that kind of relationship could be satisfying) relationships with men. Which is, of course, bullshit, as any person who is in a healthy, happy relationship (or who knows other people in healthy, happy relationships) knows. Some men actually like being around their female partners. Craziness, I know! But it happens! And when it happens, they might actually be willing to be in a monogamous relationship with them. Or might be willing to compromise. If Tim and Teri have something, they'll be able to have an honest conversation about what they want from their relationship, and come to an agreement about what that relationship will look like. And they'll continue to have those conversations. It's a novel idea, I know, and not quite as much fun as telling Teri that she's an idiot and kind of slut.

Virginity! Turns out, it's an utterly stupid way to conceptualize sex. Who knew?

Disclaimer: This post is about sex. Specifically, my own sexual experiences. If you know me and don't want to read about that, no more reading for you.

Amanda and Sady had a conversation about virginity over at The Sexist today, and it illustrated how very useless the concept of virginity is in describing how sex is actually experienced by actual young women:

AMANDA: Oh wonderful! Well I’m personally excited to commence Rethinking Virginity … out of existence! For it has never really worked for me.

SADY: Oh, no? Please do detail the manner in which it failed to work!

AMANDA: “Failed to work” may actually be the operative term here? Because if someone were to ask me When I Lost My Virginity, they would then be subjected to a series of stories about Those Times It Almost Went In, But Didn’t. I tried REALLY HARD to lose my virginity! I was like, Out, Out, Damned Virginity! But it just … it just didn’t work. Physically. For a long time. And now I don’t fucking know/remember when it happened. It was late.

SADY: Right. The definitive moment at which you become an Anti-Virgin is hard to peg! In fact! And, honestly, gives too much credit to the first person to definitively Stick It In. Like, it’s not like no-one has visited these territories before! Those dudes are like Christopher Columbus. They, like, Claim This Land for Spain, but fail to notice all the people who were already there. Uh. Sort of.

FRIENDS. I have had this experience before: Person X asks me at what age I Lost My Virginity. I ask what they mean by that. They answer, when you First Had Sex, of course. I ask what they mean by sex. They get irritated with me, because the type of person to ask you when you Lost Your Virginity is the kind of person who thinks that the process is simple and straightforward, like getting your driver's license. And it may have been simple and straightforward for some ladies, but it was not for me. I could honestly answer 15, 16, and 19 to that question. But, as Amanda points out, when your experiences don't match up with the traditional Virgin to Not-Virgin narrative, you tend to just make up an answer to those sorts of questions:

AMANDA: RIGHT. (?) And everyone pretends it’s this really objective moment that’s defined from the outside, but I’ve found for most people you just have to Decide when it is, and pretend that that time syncs up with whatever everyone else is talking about. I count myself as lucky to not have a very intimate relationship with Virginity and Non-Virginity, though. Fuck that noise.

There's something kind of attractive in Deciding your own answer to those questions, like you have a say in deciding what Virginity means. But as Amanda makes clear, Deciding also means "pretend[ing] that that time syncs up with whatever everyone else is talking about." Which means that if I answer any age (even one I just make up, or the age at which I thought I knew what I was doing sex-wise, or one at which I felt comfortable with having sex, or whatever) to the When Did You Go From Virgin to Not-Virgin question, I'm still participating in the creation of a narrative that has nothing to do with my own experience of sex. Excessively long quote time!

Sady: [...]But what I had NEVER been taught, apparently, was how to respect what I wanted, and to ask for it, and how to say “no” if I did NOT want something he wanted. I mean, I didn’t even know how to say “ow” or “yikes.” My impression was that one could Have Sex or Not Have Sex, and so my first few experiences were like, “oh, so apparently sex is AWFUL? It seems weird that people are so into it! But, OK! I am Having Sex!”

[...]

Amanda: Right. And I think it goes back to what we were talking about before, which is: Sex being defined as this very heterosexual experience of having a Penile Apparatus stuck into our Vaginal Apparatus in an Act That Could Potentially Produce Offspring (if you don’t make his weiner wear an outfit, or whatever). Like, OK: There are a lot of things that are pretty darn sexual, which this description of Sex does not cover! And I am struggling to say this without sounding like some kind of creepy Tantric sex instructor, but: If you’re like, “OK. So somebody is going to stick that into the other thing, and then you will Have Had Sex,” you’re missing out on (a) much of what makes sex fun or enjoyable, (b) much of the potential complications, and (c) the fact that sex, ideally, should not be some sort of terrifying Bene Gesserit test of fortitude? Like, that thing where they stick Kyle McLachlan’s hand in the box and are like, “WITHSTAND THE PAIN OR DIE” so he can’t take his hand out or the space nun will kill him instantly: Sex should, ideally, have little or nothing in common with this experience. Why can’t we all just enjoy ourselves? By, like, respecting what feels good and what doesn’t?

AMANDA: Right! And I’ll add that making the definition of “sex” “Penile Apparatus stuck into our Vaginal Apparatus in an Act That Could Potentially Produce Offspring” also includes “rape” as a thing that is “sex,” and so perhaps we should move toward a definition that includes shit that people want to do, and also expels the word Virginity from existence, because it doesn’t mean anything and it’s stupid.

[...]

SADY: [...] I mean, I would classify several of my experiences, especially early experiences, in the “consensual but not okay” zone of sexual activity. Not to make this a big downer of a chat. But, the idea of Sex or Not Sex means that sometimes you don’t say “no” because you don’t totally have it in your mind that you CAN say “no,” because you don’t have any idea in your mind that Sex is not just one big package that you are either OK or not OK with. So, like: You go along with it, and you even say “yes,” so there is consent although it’s not enthusiastic, but that is in large part because Boundaries are not really a part of the understanding you have of Sex. Or maybe that is just me! Maybe I am just a people-pleaser! But I don’t think I am! Because I please very few people, really, on a daily basis.

THIS. This so much. The problem with the concept of Virginity is that it proceeds from this very heterosexist, limited definition of Sex, a definition that not only covers rape, but doesn't match up to how actual people experience actual sex. Even for heterosexual people, Sex includes more than just "insert penis in vagina." And when we use this definition to say Don't Have Sex, we're being neglectful. People need to be encouraged to to be okay with saying "ow" or "yikes" or "I'm not comfortable with this thing we're doing, how about we try something else?" in addition to just plain "no." And people need to be encouraged to accept and respond appropriately to those things from their partners. Because, when I was in high school (where my school apparently solved the sex ed problem by not having it at all), there was this understanding that if you consented to some things (beyond a certain point), you consented to all things. If you said to your boyfriend, for example, that you wanted to Have Sex, that meant you didn't get to pick and choose what parts of Sex you wanted to do. Well, you could, but he might get all pissy with you, like you lied or something. Which leads dangerously into the "consensual but not okay" territory, or even rape territory.

The slow process that I went through tended to be less traumatic than my friends' experiences of Sex in high school. My boyfriend was non-communicative about sex, but totally intimidated by me, so while I still had the "consensual but not okay" experience, I at least didn't feel like consenting to some Sex things meant consenting to all Sex things. Which is not to say that my first sexual experiences were great or even pleasurable, just that they WEREN'T AWFUL. And I count myself lucky that they weren't awful. Which is fucked up? Is awful really an ideal baseline for first sexual encounters? We should expect women to enjoy sex. And the only way to do that is to value female pleasure and emphasize consent in sex education (and in everything else).

Tomorrow: Doctor Who and cosplay and race! Because this is the blog where we TALK ABOUT DOCTOR WHO ALL THE TIME.

Fat hate and slut-shaming all in one day! (Part 2)

So, on Thursday, freshly pissed off from reading OMG PUNISH THE FATTIES, THEY'RE KILLING AMERICA, I skimmed through the Maroon Weekly articles on my reader. Now, I hate the "Love Connection" section at MW; it is trite and, far too often, ridiculously sexist. The author clearly buys into stupid and just plain not true sexist stereotypes, and thus his advice is infuriating more often than not. It is also aggressively and irritatingly heteronormative.

He actually used a metaphor comparing women to "kitty cats" in this column, and suggests in the same one that women use their girlfriends as substitute boyfriends, and that's why they will ditch their women friends as soon as they snag a guy, because they fulfill the same function (and who wants a lady friend when they have MAN, which is really all any women want ever). BUT we have established that I am a masochist, and like to read things that irritate me, so. My excuse is that I can't be ignorant about the culture I'm in, right? But we all know I just like bitching, so let's get to it. Here was the column in question:

Dear LC,

I’ve been dating my boyfriend for almost two years and about three weeks ago he wanted to sit down to “have a talk” about something. He came over to my dorm, sat down, got red in the face and then admitted that he had cheated on me with not one but TWO girls in the past year. The worst part was finding out that one of the girls he hooked up with was one of my best friends. I couldn’t believe it. He told me that she knew he was going to tell me that night and that she didn’t expect to talk to me for a while (yeah, she got that right). I felt betrayed by the two closest people in my life. My head was spinning and I didn’t know which way was up. So I stood up and pointed to the door. I didn’t know what to say and I couldn’t form words even if I’d tried. He got up slowly he walked out.

The real sad part is that I still love him, or at least I think I do. And he keeps trying to apologize. He was even crying in a voicemail he left one night; and he’s never cried before, so I know he must feel horrible. I really wish I could be with him, but I just can’t bring myself to forgive him. It’s really strange. After what he did to me, my impulse is to go and make HIM feel better. What should I do? Is it possible to go back?

Upside-Down Girl

And the self-proclaimed love doctor's response:

Dear U-D Girl,

This guy not only ruined his relationship with you but also destroyed a relationship with your friend (although it’s ultimately your friend’s fault for lifting her skirt). [emphasis mine]

Holy shit did he just say that? Now, this best friend presumably knew that the boyfriend and her friend were in a monogamous relationship, so I can understand that she betrayed her relationship with her friend. Here's the thing: LC is ostensibly talking about their friendship here (not the failed relationship between UDG and her boyfriend), and fails to realize that the breach of trust was more important than the actual sex act. We have to remember, of course, that LC also thinks women only become friends because they need a substitute for the penis, so I shouldn't be surprised. What really pisses me off about this part, however, is that there is no other part placing responsibility the boyfriend. It's just this sentence, which clarifies that he's to blame, sort of, but that hussy. She really deserves shaming. And it's the emphasis on her, rather than the boyfriend, that bothers the shit out of me. The language LC uses ("lifting her skirt") makes clear the slut-shaming, sexist tradition that he's working within; in his mind, men can't help be horny all the time and it's women's jobs to be the moral gatekeepers when it comes to sex. So affairs are the result of women "lifting their skirts" rather than the result of two actors mutually engaging in sexual activity. The poor menz can't help it that they want sex all! the! time!, but women never want sex, so it's their job to keep sex within its proper places. This is not only fucking stupid (If women never wanted to have sex, no one would have heterosexual sex, because it's an activity that requires two willing participants.), but fucking sexist. Men are perfectly capable of being moral agents, and to suggest otherwise is not only an unfair burden on women, but really insulting to men. And even if LC is giving some of the blame to the boyfriend (I think he is), he is also focusing the majority of his disgust and blame on the best friend (only one of the women the boyfriend had sex with, I'd like to point out), because he blames women much more for having extra-marital or extra-relationship sex than men.

Anyway, back to the train wreck:

At this moment, I imagine you have trust issues, and let me tell you: you’re going to have them with your next boyfriend, too. Yes, I said your next boyfriend, because this guy is Texas toast.

Don't you love his folksy aphorism? They're how you know he's genuinely home-grown.

It’s amazing that people will take an apology–something that, under normal circumstances, only works when there is trust–after the bond of trust is already broken. It’s like trying to build a sandcastle in the water.

But here’s the real problem, and this is why you can never go back. Resentment never leaves once it’s triggered in your soul. There are some things you can forgive and forget. But resentment is on a different plane. It’s more permanent than a tattoo. You’ll always look at him and see him having really good sex with your best friend, even years down the road. It just doesn’t go away, no matter how hard you try. Even if you were to have a relapse of deep love for him and tried to have a relationship, the residue of trust and love would eventually diminish and the resentment would bubble up again. So I hope you locked that door when he walked out with his head hanging low. Bad doggie.

Remember, “the one” is the one that would never sleep with your best friend.

This is terrible advice, and I'll tell you why: LC thinks he knows best. Better than UDG, who is clearly considering re-starting this relationship, and he knows this because of all his 22-year-old wisdom. It's not the age that I'm trying to make fun of, but the supreme confidence that LC knows exactly how everyone deals with betrayal and resentment. He wouldn't know this even if he was 70, and that makes his confidence even more ridiculous. Guess what, LC, sometimes people (this includes women) are capable of making their own damn decisions! Even advice columnists can understand this, because more often than not, people writing in to advice columns are looking for a sounding board, not a bossy asshole shaking their finger at them for wanting to patch up a relationship. And this more likely true of this particular woman, since she just lost two important sounding boards: her boyfriend and her best friend. One of my favorite advice columns is Feministing's Ask Professor Foxy (warning: explicit), because when people ask her "What should I do?" her answer is to try and give them resources on how to make that decision on their own. It is almost NEVER a direct answer, because Foxy trusts people (again, including women!) to make the decisions that are right for them. What UDG needs to know is that if she does get back together with her boyfriend, she needs to be aware of what may happen. If she thinks she won't be able to handle the heartbreak of breaking up again, she should consider that. But, ultimately, it's her decision, and it should be based not on LC's stupid universal claims about whether people can and should forgive, but her own capacity for forgiveness, her own desires, and whether she trusts the repentance of the boyfriend. And she needs to worry as well about her support system; were that boyfriend and best friend really all she had? Because she's going to need a safe space to talk about her relationship with said boyfriend if she decides to get back together with him, a space that isn't the best friend (if she forgives her) or the boyfriend. She needs some lady-friends, frankly, and not so she can "date" them, but so they can offer her support and love in whatever decisions she makes, women who will trust her to make the best decisions for herself and who will be there for her if they don't turn out to be the best decisions.

Tons of people you know are clueless about birth control

UPDATE: Amanda has a good write-up of this study over at Slate's XX.

Seriously, thank you abstinence-only sex education. The National Campaign to Prevent Teen and Unplanned Pregnancy recently conducted a study attempting to find out why so many (about half) of pregnancies in the U.S. are reported as unplanned. Their major findings about the "range of factors that put unmarried young adults at risk of unplanned pregnancy:"

Even though most unmarried young adults say that it is important for them to avoid pregnancy right now, only about half of those who are sexually active use contraception every time. Some take a pass on birth control altogether, at least part of the time, and while others are more conscientious, they are often not careful or consistent enough. In addition, a significant portion expects to have unprotected sex in the near future.

As an unmarried adult who is scared shitless of getting pregnant, I find this odd. But then, I found that study that found that 50% of men in couples who claimed that not getting pregnant was important to them would be pleased if their girlfriend accidentally got pregnant just fucking bizarre. I am literally unable to comprehend how one can be so ambiguous about parenthood. The commenters at The Sexist were suggesting that perhaps men are just pleased that their sperm works; I am a little unwilling to think that men are so clueless about how much work and money a baby is to be more pleased about their functioning man parts than dismayed that they are now in charge of a tiny screaming bundle of joy for the rest of their lives. Amanda's theory makes more sense to me; it's true that misogynistic culture tells men that wanting marriage and babies is a feminine trait, and real men have to get roped into those things by their overwhelming desire for the pussy. It's a narrative that makes the man a hero, the-bestest-man-in-the-world, for marrying a pregnant woman, since that's such an unpleasant thing for him to do but oh so responsible. So he can get what he really wants through unplanned pregnancy--marriage and babies--without having to admit to himself or the world that that was what he wanted. I still find that ambiguity puzzling, but that's probably a signal of how terrifying I find pregnancy, rather than my perspicacious insight into human psychology. From the study again:

Many say they have little knowledge of even common contraceptive methods such as condoms and the pill, and most have not even heard of less common methods such as the implant.

Unsurprising, honestly. We still live in a country where people believe anti-choicers when they say birth control causes abortions. They do not teach about the pill or condoms in most sex ed programs in the U.S., except maybe to spread misinformation, like telling young people that condoms can't stop the spread of STDs, that condoms have a failure rate of 15% even when used correctly, and claiming that there is no such thing as safe sex.

To the extent they have heard of various methods, many express little confidence in their effectiveness and strong concerns about side effects. Many even claim, "it doesn't matter whether you use birth control or not; when it is your time to get pregnant it will happen."

Wow. Again, the effectiveness misunderstanding is understanding. Abstinence-only sex education programs tell young adults that birth control methods are ineffective all the time. And they're also not above suggesting that women who use the pill or other forms of hormonal contraception (which, by the way, is almost all American women between the ages of 15 and 44) have serious risk of dangerous side effects. There certainly are serious side effects to hormonal birth control, including blood clots and heart attacks, but the risk of getting these side effects is minimal. If abstinence-only programs teach about side effects of birth control, they are likely to exaggerate them (just like they exaggerate birth control failure rates). From a pamphlet opposing the Healthy Youth Act in Wisconsin: "Yet hormonal contraceptives have been proven dangerous to women's health." This is not an abnormal attitude toward female-controlled birth control options in the pro-life, pro-abstinence community.

However, the people who said that it doesn't matter if you're on birth control--I would not like to meet them in person. That sort of attitude is grossly irresponsible and fatalistic. And it's an attitude that can only be the result of superstitious or ignorant thinking; if you know the actual failure rates and risk of birth control options (which, this study showed, the majority of unmarried young adults simply don't), it's nearly impossible to think that it doesn't matter whether you're on birth control.

The study shows that most unmarried young adults feel strongly that pregnancies should be planned (94% of men and 86% of women) and most of them also find it important that they avoid pregnancy right now (86% of men and 88% of women). But half of them are not practicing birth control methods consistently or at all. The intentions are not matching their behavior. About 50% of young unmarried adults are "well protected against unplanned pregnancy." The study proposes that the explanation for this gap is that the majority of young unmarried adults are clueless about birth control methods and their efficacy and side effects. Some scary statistics:

Among those reporting they had relied on the rhythm method or natural family planning, 40% do not know when a typical woman's most fertile time of the month is.

Despite current clinical evidence suggesting otherwise:
27% of unmarried young women believe that it is extremely or quite likely that using birth control pills or other hormonal methods of contraception for a long period of time will lead to a serious health problem like cancer.
30% say it is extremely or quite likely that using an IUD will cause an infection.
36% say it is likely that the pill will cause them to gain weight and 40% say it will likely cause severe mood swings and that these concerns reduce the likelihood of their using the pill.

42% of men and 40% of women believe that the chance of getting pregnant within a year while using the birth control pill is 50% or greater [!].
Of young adults who have relied on the pill, 14% believe that the pill is effective even if a woman misses taking them 2 or 3 days in a row. 14% believe that after a woman stops taking birth control pills, she is unable to get pregnant for at least 2 months.

Of those who have used condoms, 24% believe that wearing 2 condoms provides extra protection. 11% don't believe it is important to leave a space at the tip of a condom when putting it on.

Despite all this, 90% believe they have all the knowledge they need to avoid an unplanned pregnancy.

I wouldn't place the blame for this problem solely on the steps of abstinence-only sex education programs, but those programs are clearly failing young adults. And pro-abstinence, pro-life, religious organizations also foster a social environment where young adults believe that birth control and abortion are ineffective, dangerous, and/or racist. That environment is clearly affecting young people's opinions about birth control, but their doctors, parents, peers, and larger social system are not doing enough to combat that environment.

I think part of the problem, too, is that most men figure that women should know more about birth control methods than they do, and thus place a lot of the responsibility for birth control on the shoulders of their female partners. But women don't get some sort of extra sex ed, people. I had no sex education in school, in fact. And when I did go on the pill, my doctor told me practically nothing about it. She didn't counsel me on my other options, of which I had many, and told me very little about the side effects (or lack thereof) of taking the pill. And I was young and embarassed, so I didn't ask a lot of questions. And my mother was irritated with me about having sex in the first place, so she sure wasn't available for questioning. There was a string of people who failed me: my school, my parents, my doctor. It's not just abstinence-only programs that are failing young people, but the entire system surrounding sexual health. And it's ridiculous.

The problem with hook up culture is that it's anti-feminist

Via Samhita at Feministing, I found this interesting article by Rachel Simmons, "Is Hooking Up Good for Girls?" Her basic argument is that feminists should criticize the hook up culture on university campuses, and the biggest problem I find with it is that it follows the dating history set forth by "courtship" advocates and anti-feminists. When I was doing research on the manifestations of Jane Austen in anti-feminist literature, I found plenty of what I would call false histories of dating:

Advocates of an old-fashioned system of “courtship”—in which dating cannot precede parental approval, physical contact is not allowed, and men must “call” on women and their families—suggest the same causal relationship between a culture that accepts sex and the occurrence of rape. Terrence Moore’s lengthy description of courtship, outlining its benefits, implies this causal relationship:

At the beginning of the twentieth century, if a man wanted to court a young woman, he had to call on her at home. At home the young woman was on her own turf, so to speak. […] The couple was never totally alone. Mother might enter the parlor to offer some lemonade or iced tea, or hot chocolate or coffee, depending on the season. Father might be reading or cleaning his shotguns in the adjacent room. Therefore the encounter had to remain seemly. Conversation, singing and piano-playing, games of chance, all were encouraged. As a result, young people really had to get to know each other. Necking and groping and making out were strictly verboten. Parents hardly had to lay down such rules. A girl never had to say ‘No’ because she was never asked. Any man who tried to take liberties would have been shown the door. Word would have spread, and he would thenceforth not have been ‘received’ in any respectable home.

Moore is not subtle about the relationship between a culture that allows (and even encourages) sexual activity between young people and rape. Like Fields, Moore assumes that rape is a result of sexual freedom because he assumes that rape is in the same category as voluntary sexual activity, like “necking and groping and making out,” only worse in degree. He suggests that if a “girl” has the opportunity to consent to sexual activity, she is already in danger of being raped, and this danger is not the result of her being in the company of a rapist, but the result of too much privacy and the absence of her parents. Moore—who suggests that sex education should be substituted with reading “Rousseau’s Emile or any Jane Austen novel”—and Fields both admire Austen because her novels are, in their perceptions, pre-sexual. Not only is this understanding of Austen and her era simply incorrect, but it assumes that sex crimes like rape are the result of a culture that condones and celebrates (consensual) sex. Again, this positing of a causal relationship between the two is a result of figuring rape as similar to consensual sex in degree, not type. Positing that rape and sex are related is problematic, because this position leads (almost inevitably) to what are common claims and attitudes today: that women who have sex cannot be raped, that women who dress a certain way “deserve” to be raped or are “asking for it,” that prostitutes cannot be raped, or even that wives cannot refuse consent with their husbands. All of these claims assume that rape is a form of sex. But reading more Austen novels—a solution posited by Moore and other abstinence advocates—and encouraging men to “court” women in the presence of her parents will not reduce the prevalence of rape, because rape is fundamentally a different activity than consensual sex.

The problem with this history is that it links rape to increased consensual sex (placing the blame squarely on the shoulders of the victim, who, if she just hadn't been alone with a man, would never have been raped), ignores that rape happened in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, and allows advocates of courting to place the blame for rape and female dissatisfaction with their romantic relationships (or lack thereof) on feminism. Feminism is what allowed women to date outside the household, the narrative goes, allowed them the freedom to make out and have sex without being severely censured and called a slut, and thus feminism is why the hook up culture and rape exist. From Simmons:

My concern led me to Hooking Up: Sex, Dating and Relationships on Campus by sociologist Kathleen A. Bogle. It’s both a short history of dating culture and a study of the sexual habits of men and women on two college campuses. Hooking Up is a nonjudgmental window into the relational and sexual challenges facing young women today. It’s also a fascinating read.

Bogle opens with some downright cool history: In the first decade of the twentieth century, a young man could only see a woman of interest if she and her mother permitted him to “call” on them together. In other words, the women controlled the event.

I haven't read Bogle's book, so I don't know if she's actually suggesting that women have control in a culture that enforces courting. But Simmons, as a feminist, should know better. The era of courting, mostly the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, was not an era when women had control of dating and marriage. When women are financially dependent on their male relatives or husbands, their control over the dating game is illusory. The whole situation of calling was situated to give parents (mostly fathers) control over who their daughters were seeing (if a woman were to see a man in private, her reputation was in great danger) and who she would marry. Men had the financial power, the ability to "call" (if women can't even pick their suitors, but have to just choose from what presents itself at her door, is she really in control?), and the ability to ask (the suitor) and even accept (the father) marriage proposals. Women had the ability only to refuse proposals, and many times had not even that.

My point is that romanticizing this era and practice as some sort of feminist, girl-power dream is ridiculous, unhistorical, and dangerous. And hooking up isn't a break from courting, but a continuation.

Like the girls who write to me at Teen Vogue, most of the women Bogle interviewed crammed their dreams of a boyfriend into casual connections determined entirely by the guys. Susan, a first year student, has a typical story: “…We started kissing and everything and then he never talked about…having it be a relationship. But I wanted…in my mind [I was thinking] like: ‘I want to be his girlfriend. I want to be his girlfriend.’….I didn’t want to bring it up and just [say] like: ‘So where do we stand?’ because I know guys don’t like that question.” Susan slept with the guy several times, never expressed her feelings, and ended the “relationship” hurt and dissatisfied.

[...]

College men, Bogle writes, “are in a position of power,” where they control the intensity of relationships and determine if and when a relationship will become serious. In case you haven’t caught on yet, us liberated girls are supposed to call this “progress.”

There is a big parallel between this situation (which anti-feminists call the hook up culture, but I have issues with that term) and the practice of courting. Men are in control; in courting practices, men get to choose which women they see and how often, when to propose, and the fathers have the power to answer for their daughters (particularly if their answer is no). In what Bogle and Simmons describe, men have the power over where the relationship goes, and women are forced to bury their feelings and take whatever is offered. So, no, this isn't progress. And Simmons is right to think that when women feel they must take romantic encounters on men's terms, that is an unfeminist situation. But it is not the effect of increased sexual liberation or feminism, but a continuation of sexist and patriarchal structures, which relegate dating power to men, make it so that women feel uncomfortable voicing their desires, and allow men to think it's okay not to listen or to get angry and confrontational when women do voice their desires.

So what’s the deal here? Is a world in which guys rule the result of the so-called man shortage on campus? Fat chance. More likely, we’re enjoying some unintended spoils of the sexual revolution. As authors like Ariel Levy and Jean Kilbourne and Diane Levin have shown, the sexualization of girls and young women has been repackaged as girl power. Sexual freedom was supposed to be good for women, but somewhere along the way, the right to be responsible for your own orgasm became the privilege of being responsible for someone else’s.

[...]

Does that make me a right-winger? Can I still be a feminist and say that I’m against this brand of sexual freedom? I fear feminism has been backed into a corner here. It’s become antifeminist to want a guy to buy you dinner and hold the door for you. Yet – picture me ducking behind bullet proof glass as I type this — wasn’t there something about that framework that made more space for a young woman’s feelings and needs?

What, and who, are we losing to the new sexual freedom? I realize a guy buying you dinner is not the only alternative to the hook up culture (and I, like Bogle, am not discussing the lives of GLTBQ students here). Still, the question bears asking. Is this progress? Or did feminism get really drunk, go home with the wrong person, wake up in a strange bed and gasp, “Oh, God?”

Again, I agree with Simmons's basic argument: this is not good for women and girls. But the framing of the whole conversation is straight out of anti-feminist rhetoric. The sexual revolution did not suddently introduce male-controlled dating situations out of the blue; they have always existed. The progress that feminism (and the sexual revolution) has given us is that less women feel uncomfortable controlling and defining their relationships. That there are still many, many women out their (particularly young college students) who feel pressured to get into non-committed sexual relationships because they think they can't ask for anything else is not the fault of feminism or the sexual revolution, but the fault of patriarchy. The only reason this isn't obvious is because we've bought the anti-feminist narrative of dating history.

Austen in Conservative Culture

My computer broke down a few weeks ago, which is why I haven't posted in so long. Also, I've been unbelievably busy. For the first time, I'm starting to wonder if I'm right for grad school. Anyway, as promised, here are some further thoughts on Austen as deployed in the conservative, anti-feminist movement:

Miriam Grossman’s self-proclaimed “college girl’s guide to real protection in a hooked-up world” has all the elements of panicky conservative writing about the so-called “hook up culture;” it focuses solely on women, contains slut-shaming language, suggests that women alone feel an emotional attachment after engaging in sexual activity, and it even suggests that young women put off getting a post-undergraduate degree until after having children. Grossman’s pamphlet, however, also has another common feature of anti-hook up culture literature: it references Jane Austen. Grossman’s title, Sense and Sexuality, evokes Austen without mentioning her, and her name does not appear in the text. On the most jaw-dropping page of the pamphlet (the first page of section six), in pink cursive writing over red paper, Grossman writes, “The rectum is an exit, not an entrance.” The cutesy handwriting and feminine colors are supposed to make the reader forget how judgmental, over-the-top, and homophobic this statement is. The statement is also part of a pattern in pro-abstinence literature, in which writers choose to write about abstinence and women’s bodies because it is in some sense titillating; the proclamation, “The rectum is an exit, not an entrance” falls squarely into the tradition of abstinence advocates who tend to imagine graphically the violations they wish to repress. The use of Austen in this context is the use of her propriety and politeness. The pink and red, the ribbon, the lace, the cursive—these elements, in combination with the Austenian title—are not only intended to make this pamphlet clearly “for girls (not women) only,” but to give Grossman’s “facts” and tips an air of gentility and modesty.

In her review of Grossman’s Sense and Sexuality website, based on her pamphlet, Suzanne Fields claims that it “draws its name from the Jane Austen novel that dramatizes the conflict of reason and feeling in male-female relationships. Jane Austen never wrote a sexually explicit scene, but her insights into the moral shadings of behavior between a man and woman give her books their remarkable staying power.” According to Fields, Austen’s popularity has to do with her ability to teach us about heterosexual romance, a romance which conspicuously does not include anything “sexually explicit.” This is an interesting statement in light of the remainder of Field’s article, most of which attempts to draw a connection between Grossman’s website and the controversy surrounding Roman Polanski. She claims that rape used to be a crime which the public treated seriously, but that it is not anymore, and uses Polanski as a prime example of this “new” moral ambiguity surrounding rape. Interestingly, she compares Polanski to an “upper-class Englishman of a Victorian novel who takes his pleasure with the upstairs maid.” She then claims that the victim’s desire to forgo a trial 37 years later indicates
“generosity impossible to imagine in a victim in a Victorian novel. Her description of the rape, as told to the Los Angeles grand jury three decades earlier, lacks the sentimentality you could find in a Thomas Hardy novel. Her plea for him to stop and take her home was not the plea of a knowing Lolita, but the plaint of a pathetic, frightened child.”

Fields’s references to rape in Victorian novels reflect that same moral ambiguity she sees in modern culture. Calling Nabokov’s Lolita “knowing” is most obvious—accepting the narrative of Humbert Humbert, Fields engages in slut-shaming a young girl who was raped and comes dangerously close to valorizing individuals like Polanski. Her reference to the “sentimentality” of Thomas Hardy novels in the best case, elides the actual rape in his Tess of the D’Urbervilles, and in the worst case, excuses this rape because it is written with sentimental language, unlike the far more ugly narrative of the Polanski rape. Without removing her own complicity, Fields seems to be suggesting that Victorian novels do not, because they include those “knowing” Lolitas and rape scenes, give modern readers a good guide to behavior between men and women. Austen, historically preceding the Victorians and lacking all references to sex, does. Austen represents for Fields a pre-sexual culture, since she sees a culture of sex as the cause for rape.

Another conservative author, Wendy Shalit claims that the popularity of Jane Austen is a sign that women (again, the focus is on women and girls) are craving traditional methods of courtship and romance. She argues that
“women all around the country, women who have already had numerous sexual affairs, are descending on nineteenth-century period dramas—at the cinema, on PBS, anywhere they can catch a glimpse of Jane Austen’s Emma or Elizabeth—with a kind of religious seriousness that would be comical if weren’t so poignant” ( A Return to Modesty 94).

For Shalit, Austen represents a place in which “the facts” of sex are not “shoved in our faces all the time,” and thus women are allowed “to imagine there might be something more to hope for than all [the] dreary crudeness” of comprehensive sex education (Return 25). This, she claims, is why women “are flocking to Jane Austen movies” (25). She argues that the facts which are taught in sex education in schools “conceal the truth” about sex, which is that it creates “obligation” (25). The title of Shalit’s book, A Return to Modesty, makes it explicit that she desires a literal return to attitudes about sex and male-female relationships which the modern world has outgrown. She suggests that the popularity of Jane Austen is popularity of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century sexual politics.

This type of conservative writing—pro-abstinence, pro-courtship, and anti-feminist—wields Austen in a particular and interesting way. It is not merely that Austen “has no sex” in her novels, but that the sexual politics of her novels suggest for these authors a model of desirable heterosexual romantic relationships. For these authors, Austen is pure and modest because she exists in a pre-sexual culture, unlike the Victorian era and unlike our contemporary “hook up” culture. The cultural work which Austen does for conservative writers in talking about female sexuality is twofold; she conveys a sense of propriety and modesty in talking about that most immodest and titillating topic—women having sex—as well as offering a model for romance. By evoking Austen, the conservative writer not only makes her (it most often is a woman) subject palatable and proper, but suggests the solution to the problem of the “hook up” culture—more Austen.

Works Cited

Fields, Suzanne. “Sense and Sexuality: Sensibility Has Been Replaced in Hollywood’s America.” Washington Times 8 Oct. 2009: n.p. Washington Times. Web. 22 Oct. 2009.

Grossman, Miriam. Sense and Sexuality: The College Girl’s Guide to Real Protection in a Hooked-Up World. N.p.: Clare Boothe Luce Policy Institute, 2008. PDF file.

Shalit, Wendy. A Return to Modesty: Discovering the Lost Virtue. Toronto: HarperCollins, 1999. Print.