How a Feminist Icon Fell From Grace or Vagina: A Book Review

Vagina: A New Biography by Naomi Wolf

My rating: 1 of 5 stars


Oh dear … in short: this book did not just fail to live up to my expectations, it made me very angry. That is because it is one of these frustrating texts that, while they claim to present an objective – even scientific – argument, are actually all about some personal issue of the author. In this case we have some weird hybrid of evangelist text, (pseudo-)scientific pamphlet and polemic against second wave feminism. What? Why? Huh? Well, when Wolf had a sexual crisis, she prayed to whatever god would listen, modern medicine answered her call, and revealed to her the poorly understood connections between the female sexual organs and the brain via pelvic nerve structures which she hence forth believed to be THE answer to all of female sexuality and suppression. As I said, oh dear!

So like a proper chosen one she brings it upon herself to preach this gospel. Not appealing to belief of course – we're not in the dark ages – but to science. The Scientific method, however, seems to be a foreign concept to her. Science in her book is apparently a mere tool to hammer home your own preconceived ideas. To this end she utilizes every tool in the box of bad scientific argument: cherry picking evidence, misrepresenting facts, gross oversimplification, broad generalization, confirmation bias, putting words in to people's mouths ...

Let's stay with the putting words into people's mouth thing for a moment, because that was where she really got me angry. I was still unsure about whether or not to give her the benefit of the doubt when she introduced her claims about women's creative and assertive potential or lack thereof being tied to orgasmic dopamine release. What about other things that cause dopamine release? What about, say, asexual women? It sounds a lot like she would tell them they are not really asexual, there is just something wrong with their pelvic nerve.

Anyway, when she then went on to claim that men of all cultures had 'unconsciously' conspired to suppress this potential by violating women's vaginas and restricting knowledge about female sexual organs, the last shreds of credibility went out the window. There is simply a much less ludicrous explanation for this: the androcentric world view, ignorance, and objectification of women that come with patriarchy as we know it.

Especially the patronizing way she talks about the experience of survivors of sexual violence quite frankly drives me up the wall. Not once does she cite their views. From the arguments she makes I can not deduce whether she ever even bothered to discuss her claims with them personally. All we get are her own observations about their behaviour and the conversations about them she had with helpers, medical professionals and shady gurus – conversations that are very much manipulative in the sense that she makes excessive use of driving questions and rephrases answers to fit her hypothesis.

And the thing is, here too we already have conditions like PTSD and Chronic Pain Syndrome that adequately explain the phenomena she describes. And since PTSD would also account for the very similar experiences that male survivors of sexual violence have, it is the far likelier explanation. Of course Wolf conveniently ignores these males for the sake of her argument. Call me crazy, but when sufferer's own experiences are systematically disregarded like this, my alarm bells go off. Because that is the same type of rhetoric that the patriarchy (for lack of better term) employs: Let me tell you. I know best.

The other thing that especially riled me up was Wolf's inevitable excursion into history. Particularly this following sentence: 'No historian has conclusively explained how women lost status in the transition from the earliest civilizations to those of classical antiquity.' - Nobody has conclusively proven that women ever had this supposed higher status in the earliest civilizations in the first place. The evidence that is generally cited to support this argument consists merely of cultic images, figurines and fragmentary myths. A body of evidence that is very much open to and reliant upon interpretation. And the interpretation Wolf references does not hold up to scrutiny once you factor in other clues about these cultures – especially those that descent from the early indo-europeans who were evidently already patriarchal before the different branches split off. Not that you would get this impression from her jumbled foray into (pseudo-)linguistics where she will happily throw every word she can use from whatever branch of the indo-european language family into one pot and add the odd piece from the afro-asian family to taste. Why discriminate?

Well, of course she wouldn't want to ruin her carefully crafted picture of a mythical matriarchal past. Feminism's own garden of Eden that for some people – including Wolf – seems to fulfil a function similar to Dumbo's feather. A phenomenon I did encounter particularly among feminist theologians when I wrote my thesis on women in early Christianity. I for my part do not think we need to appeal to a matriarchal precedent in order to achieve gender equality and it does not serve anyone to foster delusions about the past. As a historian I am appalled at the disregard such co-option shows for the cultures in question.

As for the other parts of her argument, I would agree that female anatomy and sexual experience are far too little understood and communicated probably due to that fact that female experience is generally regarded as a lesser field of inquiry which all too often earns men ridicule and women the stigma of the 'crazy men hater'. Everything else about her argument though … I do not even know where to start with this mumbo jumbo. If you have no clue whatsoever and still feel the need to communicate your thoughts in book form, you would probably be better off writing a memoir or fiction. You do not go and try to sell this as universal, scientifically sound truth.

I particularly take issue with Wolf's insistence that a lack of 'high' or multiple orgasms – apparently only achievable in monogamous heterosexual relationships between a cisgender man and woman – impedes the realization of a woman's full human potential. In fact, according to Wolf a healthy fully realized women needs to stop taking the pill, find herself a nice traditional man who can take care of her and her womanly needs (= cliché romance involving vagina flowers???) and proceed to have lots of transcendental sex. Sex that is mere play and not a path to some kind of spiritual poetic transcendence on the other hand is somehow wrong. Apparently we and the men in our lives need some kind of semi-religious attitude towards the vagina in order to lead fulfilling lives!? Also I think I might puke if I hear the term 'goddess array' one more time.

In the end, if there is one thing I would want to say to Naomi Wolf it would be this: Speak for yourself and leave me out of your sex life! Thanks, but no thanks.



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"Once you label me you negate me." Søren Kierkegaard

To me personally there are few things more frustrating than getting attached to a label. Particularly as a young adult being considered a typical ... anything felt very much like an insult even if it was not meant as such. Actually, that is not quite true. It is a bit more complicated than that. Because it was not just the label in and of itself that I objected to but what it ultimately entailed, namely it's central role in all future interactions. It is kind of as if someone set up a billboard in front of your face and proceeded to interact with that thing as if it were you. No, that does not quite cover it either. It is more like an act of translation. Like when you insist on translating complex concepts like the ancient egyptian concept of Maat, you will have to settle for something that might come fairly close, but that will inevitably disregard some crucial aspects that concept and simultaneously add some of it's own.

Long story short, I wanted to be seen not boxed. And ironically enough that is the very reason I got swept so far off course by the endless parade of Manic Pixie Dream Girl characters that adult fiction routinely dishes up. Because when you are young you are always looking for role models. And adult fiction with a fairly limited spectrum of interesting female characters was where I found mine: all those quirky nonconformist fictional girls whom I now recognize as the Manic Pixie Dream Girls that they are. And so, in true aspiring MPDG fashion, I made sure to steer clear of all the damn boxes while simultaneously maximizing my desirability whenever possible. This, of course, proved to be an all consuming performance act that slowly but surely eroded the very essence of my own identity.

It took me the longest time to realize that I was sacrificing the very thing I was trying so desperately to defend in this winless fight. In fact, I did not realize that until I had long since abandoned this fight for other ones and somehow found myself reconnecting to the girl I was before my adolescence; the things she liked to do, the enthusiasm she had, and how comfortable she could be in her own company. I still long for deep talks, inspiring ideas, and meaningful connections, but I also need time to think and create on my own. Thus, to the great concern of my general social environment, I have not quite figured out if and how a romantic partner might fit into this picture. And honestly, that does not bother me much. I am still so caught up in the euphoria of learning to walk in my own shoes again.
  
Good luck, though, communicating that to all the concerned friends, relatives, acquaintances, and complete strangers who take a great interest in your love live, marked value, and biological clock. Because everybody knows that no matter what you say, there is no such thing as a happy single. You're just in denial. It's obviously a coping mechanism. And so I am constantly subject to well meaning inquiries, suggestions, and offers of help to release me from my unfortunate state of perpetual misery. This also means that in the midst an excitingly diverse and smart group of people, like the one at yesterday's birthday party, all I get to talk about all evening  is my apparently incomprehensible satisfaction with being single. Yes, I really like being all by myself. No, I don't miss romance in my life. No, I am not just saying that because everyone I have ever been involved with was substandard boyfriend material or something. No, I do certainly not need someone sleeping next to me to stop some kind of thought carousel ... Why do I get the feeling that however much I protest the message will never get through?

After yet another evening of this variety, I ask myself: Why do I even bother? Amongst the myriad questions why is there rarely ever one I want to answer? And why does everybody care so much more about why I do not want to be in the kind of relationship they envision than about the things that are important to me? Why indeed, Sherlock. And why do you even ask if you won't accept my answers? Whether I am alone in my room or out there talking I just won't be heard. Here at least I can read, soak up and ponder all the ideas that I never get to talk about as long as my relationship status is not fixed first. And even then, who knows ...  

On the Difference between Meaning and Translation

With all the language studying and teaching I'm doing this year, I noticed that there is one problem that just keeps popping up again and again. That is the misconception among many language learners that the meaning of a sentence is it's translation. People keep asking what something means, when they are really asking for a translation. I tend to get a lot of puzzled looks when I ask them to make the distinction. Because people who are not fluent in a language tend to extract the meaning from the translation rather then the original word or sentence. They take a detour, if you will. And they don't grasp that their native language is a tool in that process, not the objective. I guess it is especially hard when you learn your first foreign language, to wrap your head around the idea that your native language is not the ne plus ultra of communication.

The thing is though, that any given language system encodes meaning independent of another language system, which is why at a certain point in learning you won't need the help of your mother tongue to decode the meaning. And despite the fact, that we tend to equate grammatical phenomena as much as possible across languages, there are in every language certain things that you can't quite imitate in every or most other languages. This is what gets lost in translation.

For example, when I want to greet someone in German by saying “Hello, nice to meet you,” unlike in English, I have to convey meaning about the nature of my relationship to that person. I have to decide whether or not to address them formally or informally. And this can have far reaching consequences. Say, for example, I meet someone in a business setting and he uses the informal pronoun “du” (which is something that happens all the time because I'm female and look a little younger than I am). Well, big deal you might say, it's just a tiny little word. But with that tiny little word he has just put me in somewhat of a loose loose situation. He is basically patronizing me. I can now either say nothing and let him patronize me or call him out, which will probably have a negative impact on my future relations with him and everyone to whom he communicates that I'm kind of 'difficult'. This is even more detrimental when said person is above me in the hierarchy. Because in that case I still have to address him formally regardless of how he addresses me and if my male coworkers - whom he is addressing formally - take note of that, they'll assume superiority regardless of our job descriptions or performance. And there you have your worst case scenario. So tiny word – major implications.

Long story short to really understand a language you have to grasp these nuances and be aware of them regardless of whether or not you can recreate them in translation. Because it's the meaning your after.

On The Manic Pixie Dream Girl Trope and Paper Towns

Paper Towns by John Green

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


I've heard quite a few people criticize Paper Towns for being the cliche manic pixie dream girl story. Having read it myself, that kind of makes me wonder … have we read the same book? I mean, of course it is all ABOUT the manic pixie dream girl trope, since the whole thing is an attempt do discredit this trope. And Green could hardly have been more obvious about it. If anything, I would criticize him for this obviousness. That's somewhat of a reoccurring theme of his (among others). And it might stem from crafting a novel around a concept or idea – like fables or fairy tales – rather than letting the story evolve from the characters. But lots of people do this, and you can usually tell. It's a matter of personal preference whether one likes one or the other approach better. I personally enjoy both kinds of stories.

The most interesting thing about his endeavor is the approach Green took to attack the trope. He could have done it in loads of different ways. But he chose to basically build Margo up as a manic pixie dream girl, only to reveal in the end that it's all just been in Q's head. I think that's why a very cursory reader might mistake this for the actual trope. And in fact, one might wonder what the big difference is? Because that sounds like she basically serves the same purpose that every manic pixie dream girl does: helping “broodingly soulful” Q learn a life lesson that is going to be key to finding his own happiness. Now how's that for a conundrum? A manic pixie dream girl dispelling the myth of the manic pixie dream girl. Except, that's not quiet it, because unlike other manic pixie dream girls, Margo also learns a valuable lesson from the whole fiasco.

I think there is a rather strong indication – indication as in Green spells it right out (That's the obviousness I've been talking about.) - that Margo herself is initially somewhat infatuated with the idea of being someone's muse or manic pixie dream girl. And she initially sets herself up as one. She makes an effort to plant the idea in Q's head, and thinks the thing is done. She thinks she did something to effect an important change in someone's life, meaning that by extension she herself was important in this life she left behind – something she's been doubting for obvious (again) reasons.

What she doesn't reckon with, is how this idea evolves inside Q's head, leading him to recreate her into this larger than life “precious thing” that he needs to save, effectively making him her hero. So essentially they both want the same thing. And that's a problem. Because in order for one of them to be the hero and safe the other, one of them will have to be the damsel in distress. Neither of them identifies as such.

So when they finally meet again, they're both confronted with the implications of what they attempted to create. They learn to see each other as real life people rather than mere tropes and means to an end. And they both realize – Margo a little sooner than Q actually – that a muse or manic pixie dream girl is not what an actual person is, but merely the two dimensional unattainable thing another person makes them out to be – unattainable because real people in all their complexity can never achieve the level of simplicity a fantasy needs to be unambiguously positive.



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Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night's Dream and the Dynamics of Female Friendships

A Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


I absolutely adore this play! It's fun, it's got romance and magic and lots of wisdom. But the best thing about it is that amidst all the magic and strangely bewitching scenery there are - even roughly 400 years after it's creation - certain aspects that are still very relevant today.

The one that stood out to me – at least in this latest reading - was the relationship between Helena and Hermia, who have the kind of friendship or rather 'frenemyship' that sadly still seems to be the predominant kind of relationship between female friends. That they are more frenemies than friends is rather obvious right from their very first encounter in the play, wherein Hermia claims to be totally blameless in attracting Demetrius attentions. Yet, when the tables are turned, she immediately accuses Helena of having bewitched Lysander.

O me! you juggler! you cankerblossom!
    You thief of love! What! have you come by night,
    And stol'n my love's heart from him? (III.ii.282-284)

This is a common phenomenon that I never quite understood: that somehow when a man is unfaithful, the other woman gets much more of the blame than the guy does. The justifications for this all seem to lead to the implication that men are driven by their needs and women are responsible for enticing them - however intentional or unintentional that might be. What is really sad about this is that this kind of rational - that also leads to victim blaming in cases of rape - is so widely propagated and accepted by women.

But turning back to the play, we can see how this dynamic comes about. Notice how Hermia becomes increasingly insecure about her appearance as soon as Lysander's change of heart dawns on her.

And are you grown so high in his esteem
    Because I am so dwarfish and so low? (III.ii.294-295)

This is a telling indication that Hermia is a woman, who measures her own self-worth via external reassurance – especially but not exclusively through male attention. She then turns right around to direct her attacks on Helena. This is because when women define their self-worth like Hermia does, every other woman is essentially a rival and a threat – even and most especially their female friends. This unfortunately doesn't only make Hermia a sad and tragic figure, but also someone with whom meaningful friendship and solidarity are just not possible.

Helena, on the other hand, did handle the same situation in a much different way. She, unlike Hermia, didn't become insecure about her appearance.

Through Athens I am thought as fair as she.
    But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so;
    He will not know what all but he do know. (I.i.227-229)

She also didn't blame Hermia for his change of heart, but Demetrius himself, and was frustrated with her own still lasting obsession with him. She - instead of attacking Hermia - sought her advise, thinking that Demetrius might love her again, if she could just be more like Hermia. The latter, however, in correspondence with her understanding of self-worth misinterprets this as an attack.

His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine. (I.i.200)

She is just too preoccupied with the reassurance of her own self-worth to even manage unimpaired communication with her friend.



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