People are still talking about Lisbeth Salander and whether or not she represents feminism, whether or not Stieg Larsson represents feminism, and how to make sense of a series that revolves around rape and violence against women, yet has garnered a feminist following and reputation.  Here are some more articles to keep the discussion going:

Lisbeth Salander, The Girl Who Started A Feminist Franchise [forbes]

Would we be as obsessed with the books and this character if a) Larsson were alive and b) if they were written by a woman? No. I am convinced that if the books had a female author they would be dismissed as “crazy chick” lit and not a political look at violence against women and its repercussions. Larsson was so serious about the issue that the literal translation of the title of his first book is Men Who Hate Women.

The Girl With The Lots of Creepy Disturbing Torture That Pissed Me Off: On Stieg Larsson [tiger beatdown]

I am certainly curious, as I think are many ladies, as to why some men hate women so much; that, I believe, is a question worth exploring. And since ladies have had little success so far in answering it, perhaps it is time for the gentlemen to start doing some of the heavy lifting around here. But here’s a hint, fellows: writing a story about a father-son pair who dismember hundreds of women in a “private torture chamber [contrived] with great care” is not a successful answer to this question.

Lisbeth Salander Is The Cure To Elizabeth Gilbert [jezebel]

…it’s the girl’s hyper-vigilant, emotionally unfulfilling life we’re consumed with, just as we were consumed with Gilbert’s hyper-self-consumed search for emotional fulfillment. Is Salander’s hostile, embattled avenger the responsive ying to Gilbert’s sunny, drifting yang? Are we avoiding some golden mean of literary womanhood, or is the appeal their clumsy extremes?

This post goes out to a special someone out there who suggests that I find better things to do than whine about the misogynistic plot devices in Bret Easton Ellis’s 1991 book, American Psycho, and the “toned down” violence against women in it’s 2000 film companion.  Clearly Bret doesn’t hate women or use objectification and violence towards them for attention.  Feminists just don’t get it.

Woman Taunted in Promotion for Bret Easton Ellis’ New Book [adrants]

Bret Easton Ellis fans are now directed to The Devil in You where they can step into the shoes of Clay, a Hollywood producer, as he runs a seedy casting session somewhere in LA. You direct the actress; you tell her what to do. You can encourage her, fill her with booze and drugs, make her dance for you or take things to a whole new level. Although the levels are quite tame. There’s no nudity, no sex, no elicit behavior. Which is too bad because, well, we thought there’d be more from a dude like Ellis.

Bret Easton Ellis Markets Book With Painful Subservient-Woman Game [jezebel]

At the bottom of each screen is the choice to “Let her go.” It’s kind of like “Choose Your Own Adventure” but less entertaining since no actual story emerges — as soon as each segment is done you’re back to the choice screen. When you realize how boring the “game” is and click “Let her go,” you’re taken to a screen that gives you a percentage meant to show how much you have “the devil in you.” You can then send the special meaningful score of exactly how bored you are at work to Twitter or Facebook and promote Ellis’s book to your friends.

I’m still pretty enthralled with Stieg Larsson’s Girl trilogy, and almost through the final book.  Sadly, the second film isn’t going to be shown anywhere near where I live until the end of August, so I’ll probably end up reviewing the final two books before I get to the second film.  In the mean time, there are plenty of other bloggers out there writing some great stuff about the series.

(Beware of spoilers for the first and second books if you haven’t read them yet.)

Why “The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo” Is So Important [Women Undefined]

Yet what on the surface seems to be an entertaining but purely aesthetic read offering little to no intellectual exercise, there is a gripping examination of gender equality and discrimination in Sweden (by extent Western society). Larsson examines the state of the country’s gender relations and brings to light such issues like violence against women ( often brutal violence) , discrimination against sex workers, gender equity in the workplace, child abuse and molestation, rape, sex trafficking, and the stigmatization of female rape victims worldwide.

Stieg Larsson’s 4th manuscript clouded in mystery [associated press]

“The question about the fourth manuscript is entirely hypothetical,” head of publishing at Norstedts, Eva Gedin, said. “We have never studied this manuscript and therefore don’t know if it exists, how much has been written and if so what shape the manuscript is in.”

The Girl Who Fixed the Umlaut [the new yorker]

But where in Sweden were they? There was no way to know, especially if you’d never been to Sweden. A few chapters ago, for example, an unscrupulous agent from Swedish Intelligence had tailed Blomkvist by taking Stora Essingen and Gröndal into Södermalm, and then driving down Hornsgatan and across Bellmansgatan via Brännkyrkagatan, with a final left onto Tavastgatan. Who cared, but there it was, in black-and-white, taking up space. And now Blomkvist was standing in her doorway. Someone might still be following him—but who? There was no real way to be sure even when you found out, because people’s names were so confusingly similar—Gullberg, Sandberg, and Holmberg; Nieminen and Niedermann; and, worst of all, Jonasson, Mårtensson, Torkelsson, Fredriksson, Svensson, Johansson, Svantesson, Fransson, and Paulsson.

While Stieg Larsson’s literary Girl trilogy has received generally positive reviews, reactions to the Swedish film have been mixed.  Having finished the first and second books, and now having viewed the film, I feel ready to throw my two-cents out there.  But first, the disclaimer-y stuff: There are certain to be spoilers, but I’ll try to keep it to book one and the film.  Also, be aware (if you aren’t already) this series contains graphic depictions of violence against women and sexual assault.

I’ll start with my summary and conclusion in case you’re using this to determine whether or not to read the series or watch the film:

If you’re the kind of person who likes psychological thrillers, non-slasher horror films, and murder-mystery style suspense, you’ll probably like this series.  If you like those types of things AND choose to view the themes of the series through a feminist lens, you may well be impressed.  But if you can’t handle violent films on the principle of the matter, this film will overload your system.  If you can’t handle violent films AND choose to view the themes of the series through a feminist lens, you’ll probably be pissed.  And revolted.

Let’s take a look at the first installment in the series. Read the rest of this entry »

I recently read Stieg Larsson’s trilogy (The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, The Girl who Played with Fire, and The Girl who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest), and am pumped to see the Swedish film.   Expect a review of all three novels and the film in the next week or so.  Until then, here are some other mixed reviews of the film:

The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo [heroine content]

A lot of screen time that could have been spent showing Salander’s coolness was instead used to show men beating the crap out of her. Whether or not I agree with Salander’s actions as an avenging vigilante, I can’t get past my disagreement with the filmmakers on whether it was necessary to go to these lengths to establish that violence against women is wrong.

Why, oh why, is everything filled with rape? [kills me dead]

What I’m not really understanding is how any of the violence inflicted on her as an adult does anything to flesh out her character… I suppose it could be argued that it ends up empowering Lisbeth since she fights back and doesn’t allow herself to be a victim™ — [spoiler removed] — but I feel like there are probably less exploitive ways of showing that kind of character development.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo [women and hollywood]

There has been a lot of debate about whether the film and the books are feminist.  Some argue against it because there is so much graphic violence against women in of them.  There is.  It’s not easy to watch.  The violence against women is one of the most important pieces of the story.  But to me, while the violence is graphic, I never felt that either in the book or the film that it was gratuitous.  And that’s what I usually hate most about violence against women especially in movies.  People put violence against women in just to titillate. The violence in this film drives the story and legend has it that one of the reasons Larsson wrote the book was  to expose this pervasive issue.

[This was one of the very first posts at feministhemes, debuting on April 26, 2009.  Memories...]

Feminism has become one of the dirtiest “f-words” in the English language.  Although its specific origin can be debated, American feminism’s big break came as a result of the womens suffrage movement in the early 1900s, wherein white American women fought for the right to vote.  Additional concerns, such as sexual, reproductive, and economic rights were also present at the time, and continue to be key issues in following feminist “waves.”  When most people today think of feminism, they tend to associate the movement with women’s rights activists of the sixties and seventies such as Gloria Steinem, Betty Freidan, and their emphasis on the sexual liberation and labor rights of white American women.  Current feminist movements are continuously challenged – many American’s today see feminism as dead (“You can vote, you can work, what else do you want?”), unnecessary (“Third-wave feminism is superficial and only concerned with pop-culture”), or at the very least divided (“Your cause is less important than xyz”).

One of the most justified criticisms of past feminist movements (as well as many modern feminists) is its exclusivity: what about women of color?  In the 1970s bell hooks, one of the most outspoken feminists of color took up this question.  Although it took years, in 1981 hooks published her first book, Ain’t I a Woman: Black Women and Feminism.  Inspired by her experiences as an African American student at Stanford University, hooks set upon the challenge of compiling a record of the true history of black women in America, unfiltered by white patriarchal historians.

The book begins with an examination of the slave life of black women.  hooks argues that black women were the greatest sufferers from the slave lifestyle, despite the historical understanding that black men were the most put upon as a result of slavery.  hooks explains that historians allege that black men were “emasculated” by slavers, that their inability to “protect” their women was a great loss.  However, she reports that the struggles that black women were forced to endure were much more widespread and painful.  On slave ships, black men were shackled together while black women roamed free on the boats, naked and vulnerable to the sailors.  On land, black men worked long, hard hours in the fields, while black women were expected to work in the fields, in the house, and often in the bed of her owner.  Black men refused to do “woman’s work,” while black women were expected to care for both their men and their owners.  In order to reduce affairs between black men and white women, any child born to a white mother was considered “free,” while children of black mothers and white fathers were born slaves.  In this way, the sexual lives of all women were controlled by the white supremacist patriarchal society, with the greatest sexual freedom allotted to the white man and the least to black woman.

Throughout the book, hooks describes the dual exclusion that black women face in America.  For example, black women were forced to choose to fight by the side of the black man for his vote or the white woman for hers, knowing that either way she would remain politically voiceless.  Later on, black women could choose between the Black Panthers fight for black equality within a patriarchal framework or the feminist movement, which emphasized the rights of upper- and middle-class white women without consideration for women of color. Black women are subjected to sexual discrimination within their racial group, and racial discrimination within their gender group.

Ain’t I a Woman is a difficult book to read.  As a young, white feminist I often felt the need to justify myself to hooks as I read her book.  For example, “I would never do that,” or “This was written almost thirty years ago, its not like that now,” or “But I’m from the north, we were never as bad as the south!”  I felt angry, defensive, and guilty.  I didn’t want to be responsible or accountable for the exclusion of others from a movement that has begun to mean so much to me.  I often wanted to put the book down and walk away, but…  I didn’t.  And as I continue to learn about diversity, race, gender, and politics I will keep bell’s lessons with me, facing the painful and hoping to come through it a better person.  Feminism is a complex and controversial movement, but many young feminists like myself do not see feminism’s primary concern as the rights of privileged White women – we believe that all human beings are created equal and that gender roles and judgments are harmful to men and women alike, across many cultures, and within diverse groups.  Modern feminism seeks to give a voice to the powerless and extend the rights of the privileged to everyone.

To learn more about bell hooks, visit these links, or to purchase Ain’t I a Woman from South End Press click here.

There were two things that had me pumped up about The Wild Things: 1. Jim Henson muppets, and 2. Karen O.  I was never very attached to the story as a kid, and was pretty sure that it was going to be a hyped-up-indie-fest as a film.  However, this was also during that period that I kept going to movies expecting little and being blown away (Away We Go, Jennifer’s Body, Paper Heart, and Whip It!), so maybe that explains the mild obsession that overtook me after seeing The Wild Things last fall.  The film, the soundtrack, and the book all made their mark on me, and all have a little feminist spin in my opinion.  Let’s break it down:

The Film

Sadly this trailer doesn’t incorporate the Karen O led music that really contributes to the feel of the film, nor does it capture what, to me, was the most meaningful theme: Max’s relationship with his mother.  What? you say?  His mother?  Please, this is a story about a naughty and wild little boy. On the surface, yes, but Max’s relationship with his mom is what gave the film depth.

Max is being raised by a single mother who has a new boyfriend, which can be hard on any kid.  It’s hard even into adulthood to understand split parents, and when a newcomer steps in things become even more difficult.  Max was already a pain-in-the-butt kid, and between a fight with his older sister and the apparent intrusion of a new man into his home, he loses it.  He runs away and winds up living among the Wild Things as their king.  And each Wild Thing offers us an insight into Max’s relationship with his mom.  Carol represents the possessiveness Max feels towards her; Alexander represents how ignored he feels; Judith represents his difficult and disagreeable side; Ira represents the doting and needy part of him; and the Bull represents the stoic role our society asks us to show when we’re really experiencing pain.  K.W. on the other hand, represents Max’s mom.

K.W. is warm, loving, kind, and is more complex than the other Wild Things can understand.  She has a different level of maturity, she needs relationships outside of the group.  Carol in particular is resentful of this and alternates between loving K.W. and not knowing how to express it and loathing her in a violent and possessive way.  This is a clear reflection of how Max has treated his mother on the night he ran away.  When Carol turns on Max for letting him down as a king, it is K.W. that protects him, hiding him in her mouth.  For a moment after it is safe, K.W. wants to keep Max, but she understands that as much as she loves him, she must let him go.  Whether Max has the capacity to understand this as deeply as I see it or not, this is the turning point where he realizes he needs his mother and must return to her, hopefully with a new respect for her as a person, not just a mom.

After the jump, an analysis of the soundtrack (including an interview with Karen O.) and the book

A production of To Kill A Mockingbird came to our small town this week, and having reread the book for the first time since 10th grade, I was thrilled to see it!  After finishing the book this summer, I poked my nose around the internet a bit to get a better idea about its critical reception.  I was surprised to learn that although it was originally heralded as a controversial and monumental statement about race relations in the south, the book has not been received favorably by many African Americans or feminists.

In reading the book for the first time in my adult life, I was able to truly comprehend the importance of the trial at hand – perhaps even in the 10th grade I was as naive as Scout, or maybe I just wasn’t that engaged in the reading since it was required.  Reading it after spending two years in a community that is even more homogeneously white than the community in which I grew up, the racial messages of the book were very prominent to me, and I came away feeling like I understood the hubub.  The fear, hatred, and judgment of the unknown, including (or maybe especially) racial differences, have become more visible to me in that time, and I felt the book did a good job of condemning such ignorance.

As excited as I was to see the play, suddenly the criticisms of the novel became clear and understandable to me.  As I sat in the theater, filled with college freshmen required to attend for their Creative Arts and English 1010s, I realized that the supposed triumph over one form of prejudice simply promoted various other forms.  And I feared that even if these homogeneous, pious young adults were paying attention to the most prominent message of the production, racial tolerance, the acceptance of sexism and classism were being reinforced.  What messages would these students really walk away with?

Read the rest of this entry »

The Beatles are very dear to my heart.  I know, everyone says that, but I really, really mean it.

My infatuation began in middle school, with sleepover parties spent watching Help! and Yellow Submarine, then was followed by a George Harrison inspired experimental phase with Hinduism in high school.  In college, I took a three credit humanities course on the music and impact of The Beatles, and for my 21st birthday I attended a Beatles tribute concert.  The recent release of the remastered catalog, as well Beatles edition Trivial Pursuit and Rock Band have caused me pain on a very personal level, as my graduate student budget can’t feed my addiction at this point.

However, between gifts and the bargain section at Borders, I have accumulated a respectable Beatles library of (hardcover) books about the Beatles, by those who actually knew them or are respected Beatles scholars (yeah, those exist).  Two of the most interesting books that I’ve read on the subject each came from very personal perspectives, and when taken together form an interesting picture of the men behind the band.  These books are the memoirs of Beatles wives Cynthia Lennon and Pattie Boyd.

Both stories start out full of romance and excitement. In Cynthia’s case, she had already met and started dating John before the Beatles had left Liverpool. Although John’s temper revealed itself early in their relationship, Cynthia’s love for him (as well as their unplanned pregnancy with son Jullian) led to an early marriage. She writes about their “secret marriage,” which was kept under wraps to increase the popularity of the band (four bachelors was more “marketable”), as well as being surrounded by John’s adoring fans, who unsurprisingly were less adoring of Cynthia.  Despite the crazed fans, Cynthia and Julian lived happily together enjoying the good life while John toured and wrote them beautiful letters from the road.

Pattie didn’t meet George until the Beatles had gained more notoriety, but with a history of modeling, she was more familiar with the limelight already.  Pattie was an extra in the Beatles’ first film, A Hard Days Night, and she and George fell in love at first sight.  In fact, one of the first things George said to her was “Will you marry me?”  Pattie laughed, and George asked “Well if you won’t marry me, will you have dinner with me?”  They soon were married, and, as a token of George’s love, Ms. Boyd is blessed enough to be the muse of the most covered song of all time, “Something.”  Pattie writes fondly of touring with the band, of fancy parties, and of the Beatles’ infamous journey to India to study under the Maharishi.

For many women (and some men) across generations, the idea of being married to a Beatle sounds like an absolute dream.  However, the honeymoon can’t last forever, and it didn’t for either woman.

The honeymoon’s over after the jump…

Persepolis is an easy to read, easy to understand, and easy to identify with introduction to the Iranian Revolution of the 1980s.  Initially published in two volumes, the graphic novel is Marjane Satrapi’s memoir of growing up in Iran as a part of a revolutionary family that did its best to exist in the new regime while dreaming of a better future for their country.  Marji is outspoken about human rights from a very young age, explaining that Marx was one of her childhood heroes.  This gets her in trouble often at school, making fun of the veil she must wear, speaking out about political prisoners, and dressing like a punk in the conservative culture.

After a family friend is arrested for harboring a young woman who came from a communist family, Marji’s parents explain the danger of being a political activist in Iran: because it is against the law to kill a virgin, the woman was married to a soldier the night before her execution.  Fearing for Marji’s safety, her parents send her to France to study at a boarding school before her outspokenness and unpopular beliefs can get her into bigger trouble than being expelled.

In France, Marji struggles to reconcile her feelings of loyalty to her country and family with her desire for greater freedoms than she will ever be allowed in Iran.  Furthermore, she is an outsider with such a dramatic history that her classmates think she is lying when she describes the tribulations she’s experienced.

Beyond being an introduction to the politics of the Iranian Revolution, Persepolis is a coming of age tale as Marji grows from a small child into a young woman.  While her experiences of the terror of war are more than anyone who has grown up taking safety for granted can even imagine, her personal struggles are easy to identify and empathize with, making the story easier to comprehend.

Persepolis has also been released as a film.  As Satrapi illustrated her memoir and was highly involved in the creation of the film, the story and art are consistent across mediums.

I thoroughly enjoyed both the book and the film. I recommend reading the book first, as a lot of details and background are lost in the film, but I commend the feature on being so accurate to the book. For those of us struggling to understand the current events of Iran, Persepolis is a fantastic introduction to revolution and divides that have been at work in the country for decades.