Monthly Archives: August 2012

George R. R. Martin, and the Misogyny in Game of Thrones

Don’t worry – no plot spoilers!

According to an article on Gender Focus, the Game of Thrones panel at Geek Girl Con failed to fully acknowledge the depth of misogyny in the series, settling for run-of-the-mill cop-outs instead.

The usual suspects turned up. One of them was: since A Song of Ice and Fire is part of the fantasy genre, which is based on history, the social hierarchies of the time have to be portrayed faithfully and it isn’t sexist to do so. Another was: George R. R. Martin is a decent guy, so he can’t have been sexist. He was probably just a little insensitive.

As Hodge rightly points out, the first point does not hold water. There were no skinny, icy killers called ‘The Others’ in Medieval England. Summer has never lasted eight years. No king of ours ever won his crown by riding a fire-breathing dragon into battle. So why glorify the brutalization of women? Martin was not forced to do so. Everything in the book was a choice, and he chose to mimic the extreme inequality of that era.

Of course, that’s not to say that rape or the debasement of women can never be depicted in fiction. Stieg Larsson’s Millennium trilogy was rife with scenes of rape and sexual torture of women, yet his books project a very strong feminist message.

First of all, Larsson is very clear as to his reasons for such scenes. In The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, he begins each section with a statistic, drawing our attention to the problem of violence against women in Sweden. “18% of the women in Sweden have at one time been threatened by a man,” Part 1 informs us. “46% of the women in Sweden have been subjected to violence by a man,” says Part 2, and so on. The assaults and murders that happen in his books do not pepper the text like bits of fancy decoration; rather, they are central to the plot and development of his characters, and the reader is forced to appreciate the horror and depravity of such acts.

Sadly, in A Song of Ice and Fire, rape or abuse of women happen on almost every page. They are depicted in an offhand manner, completely gratuitous, and pass without comment. Worse, the perpetrators are frequently portrayed as sympathetic characters instead of villains. I came across a rape/assault reference almost every five minutes, and to give you an idea of just how much random rape that adds up to, each book is about 800 to over 1000 pages long. There are five books so far, with two more in the making.

Another significant difference is that Larsson’s fictional rapes occur in modern-day Sweden, and form part of a commentary on the unequal gender relations in the society to which he belonged. One of the panellists at Geek Girl Con said, “I think he [George R. R. Martin] is making a profound allegorical statement about the US in the last century.” Now I don’t buy this for a second. If Martin’s intentions were indeed to make a statement about the power relations in contemporary US culture, why on earth would he choose to set his tale in a world that obviously reflects the values of the medieval period? Far from encouraging his readers to think critically about today’s society, it smacks of a kind of moral complacency. The reader can look back at these knights and kings and think, “Wow, things were certainly grim back then. What a long way civilization has come.” Far from encouraging critical analysis of contemporary society,  it actually pulls it up short, luring the reader into self-congratulation – “We’re so much better than these barbarians!”

And that is why I cannot believe that Martin’s choices were geared towards societal reform. But that’s ok; not every work of fiction has to have a social or political agenda. There’s a place for all kinds of books, from the highly political Animal Farm to the mysteries of Agatha Christie, from the humour of Diary of a Wimpy Kid to the magical world of Harry Potter. But here’s the rub: we’ve established that A Song of Ice and Fire isn’t political. It isn’t humorous, and it doesn’t invite readers to exercise their wits. Martin’s series is in the same genre as Harry Potter is. It’s written purely for escapism and entertainment, where readers can leave the real world behind for a moment and revel in the author’s creation. But while there’s nothing too disturbing about a child (or grown-up) imagining that they can pick up a wand and do magic, there’s something very creepy about millions of people choosing to escape into a world where women are nothing more than objects to be bought and sold, where young girls are raped by the side of the road, and where the brutal killing of defenceless women is normalised.

The biggest mistake made by the panellists at Geek Girl Con was, in my opinion, an over-emphasis on George R. R. Martin himself. It appears that one of them personally knew him, and was thus keen to defend his character, assuring people that he was not a nasty piece of work. The implication is that Martin is not a bad man, ergo, his books can’t be that bad. I can’t stress enough just how flawed this line of reasoning is. I’m happy to believe that Martin is not a bad person. If he were to tell me that he’s never raped or hit a woman in his life, that he loves the women in his family and cares deeply about them, I will believe him. I do not think that he consciously intended to be sexist when writing the books. Indeed, there are a few scenes where he makes an effort to go against stereotypes, and some of his characters actually speak out about the condition of women.

What we need to understand, though, is that patriarchy is embedded into society, and has been so for a long, long time – as far back in history as you can possibly go. Individuals do not need to be villains to be sexist. Just as rapists are seldom men who pop out from behind a bush or accost you in a dark alleyway, perpetrators of everyday misogyny are not always violent men who blatantly hate women. They could be – and often are – people that you know and like. They could be your friends, boyfriends, husbands, fathers, brothers, sons, or colleagues. But that doesn’t mean they are all evil people. They are merely products of a patriarchal society who haven’t yet seen the possibility of a different way of being. They are me, before I embraced feminism. They are what I could be like, were I a man and had no reason to look too closely at society.

But until we learn to separate the individual from the misogyny that they perpetuate, and recognise that to vilify the misogyny is not to vilify the perpetrator, we will always be in danger of pussyfooting around the subject, instead of calling someone out on their sexism.

 

(Note: there are spoilers up to the third book in the comments)

Shame on you, Excalibur

This article from Jezebel has just popped up on my Facebook newsfeed. To summarize, Olympic gymnast and gold medallist Gabby Douglas has revealed that during her time training at Excalibur’s gym, she was the victim of racial bullying. This was perhaps the most shocking quote of all:

“According to Douglas, one incident in particular pushed her to the brink of quitting. An apparently shiftless training partner was asked to scrape chalk off the bars and, rather than just doing it, asked, “Why doesn’t Gabby do it? She’s our slave.” “

So how did Excalibur’s alumni respond? Surely, any decent person would be filled with horror at learning of this, and be keen to reach out to Gabby in support and apology, as well as make an effort to teach younger gymnasts that such behaviour is unacceptable. Wouldn’t they?

No such luck. Instead, prominent ex-Excaliburians (if that’s what they’re called) were filled with outrage at Gabby’s ‘ridiculous’ claims, and were eager to deny that racism existed in their gym at all. Randy Stageberg, former Senior International Elite and National Team member, asserts positively that “anything [Gabby] may have felt was never about race”, and remarks, “I never once heard her complain about girls being mean, funny how it is just now coming up.”

Firstly, I find it absurd that Stageberg could proclaim with such confidence that anything anyone ever said to Gabby at the gym had nothing to do with race. Did she secretly place a little spy camera on Gabby’s shoulder, in order to analyse every comment, look or gesture addressed to her throughout her time there? And the snarky comment, “funny how it is just now coming up,” loaded with the implication that Gabby is making it all up for attention, is downright offensive.

Secondly, it is amazing to me how Stageberg could find allegations of racism so impossible to believe, when we’ve all seen Gabby subjected to it by the general public just a few weeks ago. Remember how Gabby became the first African-American gymnast in Olympic history to become the individual all-around champion, and the first American gymnast to win gold in both the individual all-around and team competitions at the same Olympics? And then how all everyone wanted to talk about was how messy her hair was?

Source: Getty images

Her hair looks just fine to me. It’s pulled back tightly away from her face, lifted away from her neck and shoulders, and does nothing to disrupt her lines when she’s performing gymnastics. Here are some pictures of the other American gymnasts and their hair.

Kyla Ross

McKayla Maroney. Source: Ronald Martinez, Getty images

The USA gymnastics team.   Source: AP Photo, Gregory Bull

So what’s the difference? Could it be that Gabby, being the only African-American in the group, has hair that is not -gasp- as smooth as that of her fellow gymnasts? Hmmm.

Finally, I’m not in the least bit surprised that Stageberg had “never once heard her complain.” I once worked in a rather male-dominated environment, and often struggled with prejudices based on my race and gender. I never spoke about it to anyone at work though. I knew that there would be denial, that I would be seen as overly-sensitive and should just learn to toughen up. And given Stageberg’s reaction to the revelations now, is it any wonder that Gabby never confided in her?

Burning Fifty Shades of Grey – Thoughts of a Feminist BDSM’er

On Friday, we learned that Clare Phillipson, director of Wearside Women in Need, is set to arrange a book burning event of Fifty Shades of Grey, which she condemned as a ‘manual for sexual torture.’ This sparked off a furore in the British BDSM community, with many seeing it as a bigoted act of hatred and discrimination towards the community. Being a passionate feminist as well as kinky, I was eager to join the debate, which meant that I was probably going to have to read the damn thing. So I have, and here’s my verdict:

Don’t read it. It utterly fails and offends me on every level – as an English Literature degree holder and lover of Thomas Hardy, a kinkster, and a feminist.

Let’s start with its literary merits. There are none. The writing is atrociously bad, and the dialogue ridiculous. “Oh my!” “Holy crap!” “Double crap!” “He’s so freaking hot!” “My inner goddess bla bla bla” “His pants hang from his hips” – multiply these phrases by a thousand, and congrats, you’ve just read half the book. What really makes me cringe is that the main character, Anastasia Steele, is an English Literature major, and constantly draws parallels between her situation and that of Hardy’s Tess (of the D’Urbervilles). How ironic that the book goes on about how Alec defiles Tess, just like Christian defiles Ana, when there is another defilement going on: E L James’ defilement of Hardy by associating him with such a book.

As a kinky individual, I think this book further perpetuates damaging misconceptions about BDSM, and far from bringing kink into the mainstream, actually makes the alienation of the BDSM community far more likely.
Let’s look at Christian Grey, the so-called ‘Dom’. It is made very clear in the book that he is an emotionally disturbed person, a victim of child abuse, leaving him so traumatized that he can’t give or receive love except through ritualised violence. This gives more weight to the myth that kinksters become the way they are through childhood trauma, and that an interest in BDSM is the equivalent of a psychological malaise, rather than a healthy expression of sexuality. It also suggests to the reader that BDSM relationships = purely physical, emotionless, sexual debauchery, while vanilla relationships = romantic love. This is simply not the case. While there is no one typical BDSM relationship, almost all D/s relationships are based on deep love and emotional connection, with a trust and bond that many claim far exceed what they feel from vanilla sex alone. And as a Dom, Christian Grey is quite the domineering asshole. He says things like, “I like control – of myself and those around me,” and constantly bosses everyone around. He scolds Ana for having damp hair, says commandingly, “You will eat,” even though she’s said she isn’t hungry, and gets angry whenever she doesn’t immediately do whatever he tells her. And many of these things happen even before he’s told her about his sexual tendencies, BEFORE she’s agreed to try to submit to him. She has not submitted; he has no right to command.
Watching him, you’d think that all Doms feel a need to control everything and everyone around them, from their employees, to innocent girls who come to interview them, to random strangers that they meet. Again, this is a stereotype that is just plain wrong. A Dominant who isn’t an asshole understands that submission is a precious gift offered by a special sub, and doesn’t go around acting as though s/he is a 24/7 Dom/Domme to all the world. The fact that this is the only mainstream BDSM book out there frustrates me – I hate the idea of people picking up this book, and believing that this is what BDSM is really like. I hate the thought of people finding out that I like to play the role of Domme, and believing that Christian Grey is a reflection of what I am like.

From a feminist viewpoint, it is both dangerous and deeply damaging, especially given how popular it has become. The figure of Christian Grey is romanticized and set up as a troubled but appealing hero, when really, he is a controlling, abusive stalker, who exceeds even Edward Cullen in his creepiness. He is exceedingly jealous of everyone who is close to Ana, and even before they get as far as a first date, the sight of Ana being affectionate with any male friend seriously pisses him off. When Ana books a flight to Georgia to see her mum, he secretly upgrades her to first class, booking the seat next to her as well (and leaving it empty) so as to ensure that Ana will not speak to anyone during the journey. Speaking of the trip to Georgia, although she has explicitly told him that she needed to go there to get some space from him, to think over her situation, he decides to turn up on the second day without warning, and positions himself where she is eating with her mum. Ana is also not allowed to confide to anyone about the nature of their relationship. The list goes on.

Now domestic violence against women is a huge problem, both in the UK as well as in America. And we know there are certain warning signs that women need to look out for, signs that suggest her partner is abusing or will abuse her in future. Let’s examine Christian Grey a little more carefully. He

1. Keeps tabs on Ana all the time. If she does not email him back, or fails to contact him after work, he gets annoyed at her for making him ‘worry’.
2. Discourages her from seeing friends due to his jealousy. When spending time with her family, he keeps butting in somehow. Does not allow her to confide in others about him.
3. Forces her to accept lavish gifts even though she expressly says several times that she does not want them
4. Controls her birth control, getting her a gyne and setting an alarm on his phone so he knows when she needs to take her pill
5. Stalks her by tracing her mobile phone to clubs etc, and then turns up there. Even stalks her to Georgia.
6. Does the victim-blaming game – “Stop biting your lip, it makes me want to fuck you…” (he says this about a hundred times) “Your chewing it makes me want to fuck you, and you’re sore, okay?” ie. you will only have yourself to blame if you get yourself fucked while sore, you provoked it with all that lip-biting. Slut.

Sounds like an abuser to me. And on http://www.womenshealth.gov, we can have a look at some signs of an unhealthy relationship. Let’s see if Ana’s relationship is unhealthy.

1. Focusing all your energy on your partner

Yes. Ana obsesses about him 24/7, even during an important interview which could decide her future career.

2. Dropping friends and family or activities you enjoy

Well, like our Twilight heroine she doesn’t have many activities apart from thinking about Christian. Something that made me angry was how she dropped her mum for a whole day to have sex with Christian when he popped up, although she was visiting her mum at the time for a measly four days, and she doesn’t get to see her mum much.

3. Feeling pressured or controlled a lot

Oh god yes.

4. Having more bad times in the relationship than good

Yes. She cries pretty much whenever she’s not with him, and often says that she wishes she had never met him, or that he was different. She is “pea-green with envy” when she sees Kate and Elliot together.

5. Feeling sad or scared when with your partner

Yes. When with him, she’s either sexually excited, scared of what he might want to do to her, or sad that he doesn’t love her the way she wants to be loved.

And there you have it. And this is the sort of relationship we’re meant to fantasize about? What is perhaps most harmful is the way all these elements in the relationship are romanticized, as they often are in real life. He’s emotionally distant? Oh poor thing, he’s just had a really bad childhood. If I love him enough, he will change for me. He’s jealous and controlling? Oh how sweet, “he cares enough to come and rescue me from some mistakenly perceived danger.” Ana’s words. No Ana, it isn’t about caring, it’s about control. Please run away! I haven’t read the second and third books (and don’t want to), but apparently she does manage to change him with love and tenderness, and they get married and live happily ever after. Sorry, but that’s not how it works in real life. Ask anyone working in a women’s shelter. Ask Clare Phillipson.

Plenty of people dismiss the book as cause for concern. There’s a quote in the Guardian from someone who says, “Does reading a thriller involving murder make us more likely to commit one? Or even consider it? Of course not.” But as any social critic will tell you, that’s taking a too-narrow view of things. Firstly, that comparison is a bit rubbish anyway, since almost all thrillers carry the basic assumption that murder is bad, while Christian is set up as a romantic hero. But beyond that, there’s also something called culture. Books like Fifty Shades of Grey, characters like Christian Grey, don’t exist in a vacuum. They exist in conjunction with characters like Edward Cullen and Heathcliff, held up as great romantic heroes with frankly, very dodgy behaviour. They exist in conjunction with a culture that assigns women the role of manic pixie dream girl (search for feministfrequency on youtube for more about this trope), a culture that tells women that they can change a man with love and kindness, a culture that encourages women to believe that a man controls you because he loves you. A culture that encourages women to find ‘bad boys’ sexy rather than the jerks that they are. A culture that leads to 2 women in the UK being killed every week by a partner or ex-partner, that leads to domestic violence being the leading cause of injury to women between the ages of 15 and 44 in the United States. The widespread popularity of books like Fifty Shades of Grey is the product of this culture, and it also helps to keep it going.

For all that, this book burning event does not have my support. It gives too much ammunition to anti-feminists, who wish to paint us as irrational, full of hate and anger, trying to ‘stop free speech’. Already, it has led to comparisons with the Nazis, with suggestions that feminists will soon start to burn people. And I hate to see a divide between feminists and the BDSM community, when they really shouldn’t be enemies at all, because their ideas do not clash. Fifty Shades of Grey has done a disservice to both feminism and BDSM, but I fear that the burning of it will lead to only one victor – the status quo.