Wear Clean Draws  (because there’s 5 million ways to kill a ceo)

jessica valenti, queer dewd’s shero

By shag carpet bomb • May 16th, 2007 • Category: Archiving, Feminist Fight Club, Feminist Theory, Full Frontal Feminism, Horseshittery, Intersectionality, Janet Halley, Racialization, Sex Positive Politics, Split Decisions, Third Wave

2007-05-16 20:10:40

Little Light wrote:

B|L, I’m honestly a little surprised at you. Yes, some of these criticisms are sophomoric or by people who haven’t read the book. But you’re treating substantive arguments the same way as the idle sniping. I don’t care whether or not you agree with the critiques offered, but some of these are people making real points in good faith, and you’re mocking semantics, calling people out for not footnoting blog comments, and giving people how-dare-you wrist slaps, from where I stand. I haven’t read Jessica’s book yet. I’m glad she wrote a book, and I look forward to seeing it, and it’s nice to see a feminist get ahead. But you know what? She’s not above criticism. She’s not so very much “one of our own” that nobody gets to argue with her–especially other “our own” that happens to include most of the prominent feminist bloggers of color I could easily name. These aren’t anti-feminists, MRAs, or people out to hate on feminism. These are feminists from different branches of feminism–less mainstream ones–offering criticism and argument. It seems especially pertinent that some of those critiques are race-based, and nearly all the people of color are lined up on one side. Right or wrong, that’s worth paying attention to. It feels to me like even if Full Frontal Feminism doesn’t condescend to them, this here–as well as other well-I-never responses to the notion that anyone would dare have a problem with Ms. Valenti’s book–certainly does. I don’t know what my opinion of the book is yet. But when a list of people that includes Brownfemipower, Donna, Belledame, Nubian, petitpoussin, Sylvia and Blackamazon all are offering similar critiques–people I respect and whose opinions I have learned to trust, who all work hard in the feminist movement–I’m inclined to sit up and listen, not act shocked that someone said something rude from the kids’ table.

Thanks Little Light. I appreciate an illustration of why I like to read what people write before accusing them of, say, not taking the concerns of women of color seriously. I think it’s a good illustration that confirms what I suspect some others have concluded as well — but not on the basis of what I actually wrote. Rather, I think because I didn’t only criticize or didn’t criticize about the same things or have had the temerity to be honest and say that I IDd with Valenti’s story or that I refuse to knock her’s as sex positive feminism light. For some odd reason, people seemed to like Shame Affirmative. If you did and you don’t like my comments about Valenti, then I’m afraid I didn’t get my message across. Or maybe the gestures of appreciation were about the kind of respect Valenti thinks we owe each other. I don’t know. I’ll assume, that the reason you think I don’t criticize Valenti is because you didn’t have time to read what I’d written. Let me recap. Then, let me point out that I’m not shocked that people said anything rude. *I* was rude. I think it’s ineffective to use Valenti’s style of engagement (snark) or claimed style of engagement (lack of evidence) as a way of criticizing that style. BA didn’t do that, of course, because she elaborated further when asked. When others did, however, I thought they ended up inadvertantly making the case *for* Valenti’s style. Thus, it is acceptable to call conservatives names (Valenti’s style), since it’s acceptable to call Valenti names. (That was the book review PetitePoussin pointed to.) My argument is that, while I’m not in disagreement with criticisms in this regard — I made them *before* I read anyone else — I happen to think the approach is ineffective. It reproduces Valenti’s style of engagement, rather than offering a counterpoint to it. My first criticism, you can read it below, was about the swearing. A lot of us agree then, I differ in my explanation as to why I’m uncomfortable and, in doing so, I’m questioning my discomfort and wrestling with what I find problematic. I’ll take a stab. I was initially surprised at myself. I love me some good slang. So what bothered me? I concluded it was the thickness of it — the use of what’s normal in blogging exported to the pages of a book. It was jarring to me to see lots of swearing on two pages. I did not think it’s fake or a put on. I have read feministing and I think that’s the way Valenti writes. My criticism is that I’m not so sure that blog style writing should be imported to books. But then again, I’m not sure about that either. What’s wrong with blog style writing. *I* write that way. [1] I don’t think she’s trying to play it up to influence anyone. I’ve had that accusation leveled at me, for various reasons — including once about my “ghetto” language which was said to be contrived and was a way of belittling the subject at hand. I’ve also had people jump on my case for my Ellie Mae routine, which they believed was me pretending to be something I wasn’t: a hick and, therefore, mocking hicks. Since I know how it feels to have my motivations explained for me by someone who can’t read my mind, I’m disinclined to do the same. My next criticism was with what I called the bubble-gum snapping pace of the book. When I first read it, it felt like I was reading someone who was a quick, busy busy person, snapping bubble gum and giving me a nickle tour of the workplace on my first day on the job. I went on to say, to paraphrase from memory so TIFWIW, “I would have like to have seen the editors (and Valenti, I add now) tone it down a bit so that, when Valenti discusses very weighty issues, like violence, and shifts gears, it isn’t so obvious a transition from one approach to another. Next, I pointed out that, while I think Valenti does bring in issues of race and class, she lacked a hook — a narrative or thematic — through which to understand these things. I have made this same criticism of the women’s studies approach to intersectionality and intend to develop it in my formal review. Next, and related to the above, I criticized the way Valenti overtly addressed oppressions such as race, class, age, ablity, sexuality. While she discusses these issues throughout the book - my phrase was “woven” through the book — it was a problem, I thought, to label the chapter academic — the chapter where she overtly takes on intersectionality. It’s not wrong to call this academic. Intersectional analysis *is* academic. But, it is also born of the experience of oppression and has been imported *into* academia as the theoretical expression of what women, on the ground, experience. More elaboration later, with examples from the book when I do a more formal review. In the meantime, I did want to point out that your claim, that I think Valenti is above criticism, is wrong. And that is why I feel I’ve been held hostage here also. Instead of seeing where I’ve criticized the book, albeit briefly because I hadn’t finished it, I am now being portrayed by Little Light as believing the book is beyond criticism. Where did that come from? It certainly didn’t come from my words, which contained both criticism and defense of Valenti when I thought the critic was wrong — e.g., Anthony’s claim that she was from an upper class background. Or Donna’s claim that Valenti never discussed the other cover choices. I’m not surprised. People fly off the handle when I dare defend MacKinnon also. But I’ve explained why I do so, why that way of approaching my enemy or my wayward allies is part and parcel of what this blog is about. My biggest problem with what people wrote is with regards three things: 1. The book cover. Valenti didn’t have much of a choice. She was given what authors are usually given: 2 or 3 roughs that were the product of marketing and a graphic designer’s brainstorming as to what would convey the book’s ideas. Jessica, if she’s like authors I know, had nothing to say about that process. She was then given the choice between this cover she chose and two other covers that featured a blond, WASPy woman wearing a tee shirt that said full frontal feminism. Since the person on the cover is often assumed to be the author, I can’t blame her for not wanting a blond WASPy woman on the cover. She chose the cover that she felt represented *her*. And she would have taken almost as much heat for that choice as this one. As nubian pointed out, she didn’t object to the nudity so much as the whiteness. At a later time, I will explain why I think it makes sense to be in a psychological position to decide at the end of a cycle of book writing, to be as upbeat about the limited choices you had as possible. Does that mean I think that BA’s and others feelings — that her response was flighty and not serious — are wrong? Not really. But more on that later. But the more important issue that has raised my ire is the notion that JK voiced: that there is an unarguable problem with nudity on the cover. It is always and only a contradiction to the message of the book. That using nudity in this way is going to signal that she’s “not serious” or the issues are “not serious.” There’s a legitimate argument there, but it fails when the people making it refuse to recognize that there are other arguments for why feminists (and other identity political groups) use such images. It quite seriously pisses me off that people like JK refuse to acknowledge that, not the least of which because it tends, as per usual, to dismiss arguments made by sex positive feminists in this regard. It is the same logic behind the argument that women wearing hot pants are playing into cultural stereotypes of women and thus undermining the feminist project. What “THE feminist” project? Where is there a unity as to what feminism is? So, contra whoever it was, I don’t object to people not knowing Hannah. I object to people not having the decency to recognize the fact that there is no unified feminist position on the use of this imagery, just as there is no unified voice as to whether it’s a good idea to use ironic images of queers that could undermine the movement, just as there is no unified voice as to the use of the n word. (I used to spell it out but out of respect for my friend, Charles Brown, i no longer do so) I hold people accountable for that yes indeedy. Too often, the position that was taken was that anyone who dared disagree was some kind of traitor. How can you not see that the image is a problem? It was incontrovertible. There was an incredulity, Donna expressed it well, that anyone could not agree that there was a contradiction between the book’s message and the cover image. 2. I’m running out of time, but I also objected to Anthony’s claim that she was from an upper class background. I pointed out that she was from a working class background. I also pointed out that, while being from a working class background, it’s quite possible for her to reprsent the middle class feminism that has been criticized. It’s important to me to do this, not the least of which is because being from the working class or being Puerto Rican or being queer gives no one any purchase on some special place where they aren’t capable of also reproducing oppressive discourses. In other words, noting that she’s working class background does not mean that she can only ever have ‘correct’ views. I find it fascinating if anyone actually thought that since, to mention Burkagate again, that’s a claim that rests on the same logic behind the “i got me a brown women here who says….” IOW, I think it’s important to point out that a woman from a working class background can nonetheless espouse a feminism that isn’t necessarily so enlightened about working class issues. It’s also important to me because I read few people from a working class background writing on feminism. Call me a dim bulb who is happy with crumbs. I am. I don’t care that she doesn’t share my position on class. If I cared, I wouldn’t even associate with most of the people who read this blog ferchrisake! 3. I also differ with others as to how to respond to what BA calls “not serious”. I don’t see with the exact things BA thinks are not serious, but I do have some criticisms of other things that I think indicate “not serious”. My goal is to criticize in a way to advance Valenti’s work, to make it stronger. I do that with MacKinnon — something that also surprises people. So, I’m glad you’re surprised. Now you’ve learned something about me: I engage with even my worst enemy, even people who figuratively want to kill me whether they know it or not. I think it’s important for various reasons. When they aren’t exactly my enemy, but not exactly my best ally (although I’m not so sure that there is such a thing as being allies to working class people) or the best ally to those I think we should be allies to, then I often want to engage their work in order to criticize it and help them make better arguments, write better books, etc. I’m a conceited and egotistical cunt like that. [1] I think that, because it’s so common, blog sarcasm, it’s become part of a growing trend in US life, the snark factor. I don’t see it as a peculiarly middle class thing, but a wider cultural phenom. In that sense, it’s what we call “middle class”. However, I don’t see the snark factor as something middle class people engage in per se, anyone can do it. I also don’t see the snark factor as a tool of class or racial oppression. Although… hmmmm. writing that is making me think that maybe there’s a way you could make the case for the tool of class oppression thing…. hmmmm. anyway, I do, however, understand what BA means when she says that, what she calls “the smug”, when used in discussions of race, are deployed by people who unwittingly undermine their own claims to be serious about race. I don’t personally feel that way about class and the way Valenti dealt with those issues, but I understand what BA means. IOW, when Valenti uses blog writing style, I don’t think that means she’s not serious about heterosexism, class oppression, agism, and ablism. That is probably because, while I see ‘the smug’ i have a different theoretical explanation for its existence. Thus, while BA and I both see the same phenom, we interpret it it differently. Some of this is attributable to white privilege. Some of it, I think, is attributable to different backgrounds, different age, different theoretical proclivities. I want to explore the white privilege issue some more, so I’m going to consider how I’ve engaged in it. I had a thought on the way home from work earlier, but I’ve lost the thread. Had to come home early because they broke a water line and there was no toilet, which wasn’t funny with a urinary tract infection. The bouncing ride home and the constant urge to pee completely distracted my train of thought. I also want to ask if class identity figures for anyone here? I can see how, on a race in the final analysis approach, BfP and nubian’s arguments for a feminism centered on women of color, class isn’t as an important an issue and, thus, white working class women’s views aren’t on the same plain. They’ve made some excellent arguments for this view, which I’ve delineated here: From Combahee to BfP and Nubian: Convergence/Divergence in Feminist Thought. But I’m not sure how, on other versions of intersectional analysis, there’s a way to mediate the conflict. Is there any obligation to consider a working class analysis? A queer analysis — of the sort Janet Halley advocates? Maybe there’s not. Fair enough. It’s one reason why this blog is called queer dewd. Feminism can’t speak to the issues of class and queer identity in a way that attends to the issues of race, class, sexuality, gender, ability in the way I want them to — and maybe, as Halley says, there’s a good reason for that. Which is why her argument works for, say, Latinas who choose to break from Feminism and so forth.

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