When Rush Limbaugh
discussed Georgetown law student, Sandra Fluke, and her testimony to House
Democrats supporting mandated insurance coverage for contraception, he chose to
label her based on her testimony a “slut” and a “prostitute.” Limbaugh’s word
choice infuriated feminists, lawmakers, medical professionals, and women who
noted that Fluke’s argument for contraception coverage included non-birth
control reasons and that, more importantly, women who do use contraception for
such purposes are not inherently sexually promiscuous, irresponsible, or
unentitled to their own sexuality.
This reaction to
Limbaugh’s controversial word choice also reignited the debate over reclaiming the word “slut” that was most popularized by the 2011 SlutWalk.
The SlutWalk, a response
to a Toronto police officer’s offhand comment that “women should avoid dressing
like sluts” in order to avoid rape, was a series of rallies worldwide in which
“reclaiming, or more accurately, reappropriating the word ‘slut’ is a
fundamental cornerstone of the movement.”
The SlutWalk created widespread debate among feminists about reclaiming the word “slut” for twentieth century feminism.
The question these
debates raise is, what should be reclaimed?
The word “queer” is an
example of a largely successful reclamation of a once derogatory word that
represented heternormative power structures. Its reclamation in the 1980s
resisted the oppressive, homophobic connotations by providing the LGBTQIA
community with a much-needed inclusive umbrella term for non-heterosexual and non-gender-binary individuals.
The challenge with
reclamation arises when a word has a varied significance across spheres because
when one group reclaims it and uses it as an empowering statement, it could
potentially reinforce the problematic hegemonies it represents in other groups.
For example, “cunt” is still popularly considered a derogatory term for women
and social attitudes toward female genitalia, yet some feminists like Eve
Ensler of The Vagina Monologues
have been trying to reappropriate the word since the 1970s. Forty years later,
the word and its power are still undecided upon.
When debating
reclamation, advocates need to ask themselves: what about the term or
phrase is being reappropriated and why? In the case of “slut,” what does
reusing the word do for feminism? Does it have the potential to inspire new
understandings of women’s sexuality? Or should there be a new word altogether
to signify this attitude? What is there to be achieved in reclaiming instead of
discarding any word for a social movement?
1. It demystifies the
angry feminist stereotype by representing a more authentic image of feminism: one that is pop culture-savvy and can have fun with gender justice topics.
2. It reminds us that
feminism is still relevant amidst the current War on Women.
In the year 2012, the
following movies have or will be released: The Avengers, The Amazing
Spiderman, The Dark Knight Rises, Mirror Mirror, Snow White and the Huntsman,
Dark Shadows, and Breaking
Dawn Pt II. The following TV
shows are on basic cable: Grimm, Once Upon a Time and The Vampire Diaries.
Why are these old fairy
tales, hero plotlines, and fantasies still relevant in 2012?
The repopularization of
these legends and tales is perhaps in part due to a nostalgic search for the
timeless in a rapidly evolving, tech-savvy culture. Yet what is most
interesting about these stories is that people genuinely enjoy them even
centuries after their genesis. There is something relatable about these
familiar characters and figures.
These recurring figures
and images echo what psychiatrist Carl Jung, one of Freud’s students and
contemporaries, identifies as archetypes within the collective unconscious. He
explains:
“In
addition to our immediate consciousness…there exists a second psychic system of
a collective, universal, and impersonal nature which is identical in all
individuals. This collective unconscious does not develop individually but is
inherited. It consists of pre-existent forms, the archetypes, which can only
become conscious secondarily and which give definite form to certain psychic
contents.”[1]
Jung argues the
collective unconscious originates in prehistoric humankind and contains
archetypes—mythic symbols common in all cultures and which hold similar
significance across communities—that present themselves in dreams, mythology,
religious parables, and fairy tales. Common archetypal figures include the
shadow, the anima-animus (feminine and masculine qualities), the mother, the
child, the maiden, and the wise old man.[2]
Modern fantasies in 2012
access these archetypes and the meaning they hold that is relevant today. The
evil queen in Mirror Mirror and
Snow White and the Huntsman invokes
the animus within all women who represents reason, power, and strength. Michael
Caine’s Alfred in The Dark Knight Rises embodies the wise old man who counsels and guides. Dark Shadows’s
Dr. Julia Hoffman represents the
mother archetype who nurtures with love and ambivalence.
Perhaps, then, the
resurrection of fantasy films and shows is not due to the need for escape or
for returning to something lost. Perhaps instead it is because, even in 2012,
there are mythic elements we will always be able to relate to that helps us
better understand our own unconscious and the collective unconscious inherent
across cultures.
[1] C. G. Jung, The Archetypes and the Collective
Unconscious. (London: Bollingen
Series, 1996) 43.
[2] Wilson M. Hudson. “Jung on Myth and the Mythic.”
The Sunny Slopes of Long Ago.
(Denton, Texas: University of North Texas Press, 2000), 186.
These lovely
postcards with the covers of classic literature provide the unique
opportunity to send both a message from you and the literary canon to family
and friends.
Use to share with friends
that this last month was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Or explain that while on vacation the sun
shone, having no alternative, on nothing new.
Or maybe share sad news-mother
died today.
Or perhaps share a
reflection on experience-that in my younger and more vulnerable years my
father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since. Or begin a long epic tale with all this
happened, more or less.
Maybe you would like to
tell a quaint little story- once upon a time and a very good time it was
there was a moocow coming down along the road and this moocow that was coming
down along the road met a nicens little boy named baby tuckoo.
Better yet, send a letter
to announce a sudden change in name, asking friends to call me Ishmael.
Opportunities abound. Sing
in me, Muse, and tell me the story.
“When I grow up, I,
too, will go to faraway places, and when I am old, I, too, will live by the
sea.”
“That is all very
well, little Alice,” said her grandfather, “but there is a third thing you must
do.”
“What is that?” asked
Alice.
“You must do something
to make the world more beautiful.”
~~~
In its 30th
anniversary year, Barbara Cooney’s 1982 children’s book, Miss Rumphius, continues to share a relevant message of social
justice, environmentalism, transnationalism, feminism, and personal existential
fulfillment. The book, which was awarded the National Book Award for Children’s
Books, tells the story of Alice Rumphius who lives out three things her
grandfather tells her she must do in life: travel, live by the sea, and make
the world more beautiful.
Miss Rumphius succeeds
with the first two in her young adult life; traveling to Egypt, tropical
islands, Australia, the Alps, and living in a cottage by the ocean. During this
time, she learns to be a global citizen as a pseudo-intellectual librarian, a
camel-rider, a small time botanist, Alps climber, and friend of a maharaja. Yet
the main conflict of the story revolves around how she will make the world more
beautiful. After being bedridden in her older age with back pain in her seaside
cottage, she becomes enchanted with the lupines that bloom outside her window
in the spring, and she decides to plant lupine seeds around her town when she
is well again. The flowers become both an act of renewal after her physical
illness and the seasonal winter, and an act of civic engagement.
The story’s deceptive
simplicity within the guise of a children’s book does not distract from its
significance in advocating for a life of activism, transnationalism,
environmentalism, and feminism. As a single woman, Miss Rumphius furthers a
legacy of social awareness, engagement with the global community, environmental
justice, women’s agency on a global scale, and empowerment that her grandfather
had fulfilled before her. Her praxis in making the world more beautiful by
planting lupines creates micro level change that inspires macro level ethics at
the end of the book when she tells her young niece that she, too, must do
something to make the world more beautiful in her life. The niece, our
narrator, closes the story saying, “I do not know yet what that can be,”
transforming Miss Rumphius’ activism into advocacy for future generations to
continue to make the world more beautiful.
Joseph Campbell, one of
the most respected scholars on mythology who popularized the hero’s journey
(which inspired George Lucas’s Star Wars), once said:
“The
images of myth are reflections of the spiritual potentialities in every one of
us. Through contemplating these, we evoke their powers in our own lives.”[1]
For Campbell, myth is a
manifestation of symbols and charms that “helps you put your mind in touch with
this experience of being alive.” The tradition of wearing charms has been
practiced around the world to ward off evil spirits, self-identify with a
religious tradition, and represent symbols from mythology. Understanding
symbols and charms within mythology and religious folklore is, for Campbell and
many others, a means to “seeking an experience of being alive.”
Three’s a charm, but here are five:
Nazar (Evil Eye): Common in the Middle East
and Balkans, the charm wards off the curse of the evil eye.
Horseshoe-In Medieval Europe, the upturned
horseshoe used the power of the horned moon to protect against witchcraft.
Four Leaf Clover: In the United Kingdom, the
four leaves represent faith, hope, love, and luck.
Wishbone-Originating from the Etruscans, the
tradition holds that the wisher who pulls the larger half of the bone will
have their wish fulfilled.
Hamsa: In Islam, it represents the hand of
Fatima, in Christianity the hand of Mary, and in Judaism the hand of
Miriam. It is most commonly recognized as a sign of protection.
[1] Joseph Campbell. The Power of Myth. (New York: Broadway Books, 1988), 207.
Lena Dunham’s new HBO
show, Girls, has only aired
three episodes and is already the most Tweeted-about show ever. It has been
criticized all over the internet for failing to
represent twentysomething women accurately, for glorifying privilege, and for
being whitewashed.
To review: In a recent
Jezebel article,
Madeleine Davies laments, “The show felt oddly alienating, managing to be both
too broad and too niche all at the same time.”
Jenna Worthman of The Hairpin
writes, “Girls was supposed to
be for the people, by the people. It is for people like me… who were hungry for
something relatable, something real.” She shamefully admits she likes the show
because “It Gets. So. Many. Things. Right” but adds, “I just wish I saw a
little more of myself on screen.”
John Cook of Gawker just does not
like Girls, opening his first
recap with, “Girls is a
television program about the children of wealthy famous people and shitty music
and Facebook and how hard it is to know who you are.” He also points out that the only person of color in the pilot is "a magical jolly homeless
black man."
While some of these
critiques of privilege, unrelatablility, and the show’s white monopoly hold strong value, the
question is: Why is Girls talked about as if it were a failed manifesto for
Generation Y women?
Given the multiple
arguments that Girls is
problematic because it claims to be a voice of a young, urban generation and
instead is crippled from doing so because of its privilege and whiteness, why
aren’t critics pointing to other shows with primarily affluent young white
characters living in New York City? If this is the criterion for judgment, why
not point fingers at How I Met Your Mother,Seinfeld or Friends as
problematic representations of race and class? Why is Girls so unrelatable based on its portrayal of privilege and whiteness while these other shows manage to be relatable?
Could it be that this is
a crisis of gender representation?
To borrow from literary
theorist Edward Said, the “crisis of representation” refers to the anxiety over
representing changing objects and entities, from race to genre to time period.
Every representation inevitably fails to represent the whole because singular
experiences always vary. In the case of Girls, could the large-scale criticism be informed by
an anxiety of representing contemporary young women?
This is not a new
phenomenon for shows about women. When Sex and The City came out, there was widespread criticism of the
show’s representation of thirtysomething women as bourgeois and unrealistic
(Carrie’s apartment has been extensively analyzed by real estate agents and it
has been determined that, no, neither the fictional $2,800 rent nor the real
$9,650,000 price tag are within her journalist price range). What is unique
about the criticism of class and race in SATC and Girls is that such analysis has not been popularly applied to characters in
Seinfeld or other coed shows.
The show, like nearly every
other television show, is about a specific group. Why, then, is there so much pressure on Girls to represent young women on the whole?
More importantly, why is there so much
anxiety over representations of women on predominantly female shows?
