Wednesday 23 April 2014

No Such Thing As "Fifty Shades of Rape"...

If you’re not a fan of a particular fantasy TV show based on a series of bestselling political-fantasy-epic novels then you may be unaware of the most recent controversy coming out of ‘Game of Thrones’-land at the moment. GoT, as we fans endearingly/lazily shorthand it, has never been one to shy away from controversial things; it’s not exactly a Disney series after all and, much like the books it is (now somewhat loosely) based on, the show has among other things killed often-beloved characters in a variety of nasty and gruesomely-effective ways; depicted both incest and torture remarkably graphically; and just generally spattered boobs and blood all over the screen, as HBO shows are wont to generally do (remember the Sopranos? Oy…)

This past week, however, GoT has surpassed itself, in an act so horrifying that even Tony Soprano would say “now steady on, chaps; this has all gone a bit far, hasn’t it?” (Or words to that effect). For those out of the loop, a brief synopsis: two of the characters in Game of Thrones are Jaime and Cersei Lannister, twins who have an unusually close relationship with each other. And by “close” I mean “incestuous”, since Jaime has fathered all three of Cersei’s children while the rest of the world generally assumed the father was her late husband King Robert Baratheon. All the in’s and out’s of what has happened up to this point are not really relevant (and would take far too long to go into), but the basic things you need to know are this: Cersei is power-hungry and resents the fact that, as a woman, she can’t do half the things a man can do, (like rule a kingdom in her own right), but she does love her children which redeems her slightly; and Jaime was the best swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms, but has recently lost his sword hand after being captured by their enemies (there was a war going on. It’s complicated). As a result, Cersei is totally repulsed by her brother/lover’s sudden ‘deformity’ and has generally been a bit of a bitch to him since he got back. I DID tell you it wasn’t Disney…

On Sunday night’s episode of the show, however, after the sudden demise-by-poisoning of their eldest son (spoilt evil shit King Joffrey, who was mourned by precisely no one in the fandom whatsoever), things moved beyond the “oh, it’s just GoT, what did you expect?”- way of thinking. While Cersei is in the sept (church) mourning her dead son who is lying in state, Jaime rapes her. Cue uproar. Now this differs from the scene in the actual book; whereas in the show Jaime has been back home for a while and Cersei has been a Grade-A bitch about his hand, insisting he “repulses” her and not letting him touch her, in the book the first time she sees him is when he rocks up at the sept and, regardless of the “morality” of shagging her brother, is swept up by the fact he’s come back home to her. She does hesitate to begin with, but only because she’s afraid they’ll be caught; as he kisses her she protests about getting caught but then explicitly consents to the sexual act. In fact her exact words are, “hurry; quickly, quickly, now, do it now, do me now.” I mean yeah ok it’s still incest and therefore all kinds of ick, but at least it’s, y’know, consensual incest. (And there’s a sentence I never thought I’d write…) So yeah. Cue uproar.

Cue even more uproar, however, when the director Alex Graves, in response to said uproar, made a statement which said that the scene “becomes consensual by the end, because anything for them ultimately results in a turn-on, especially a power struggle.” This is apparently clarified by the fact she kisses him back and wraps her legs around him. HOWEVER. In another interview Graves refers to the entire thing as “forced sex”; one of the directors, David Benioff, then chimes in with the statement, “It becomes a really kind of horrifying scene, because you see, obviously, Joffrey’s body right there, and you see that Cersei is resisting this. She’s saying no, and he’s forcing himself on her. So it was a really uncomfortable scene, and a tricky scene to shoot.” Watching the scene this becomes entirely apparent by the fact Cersei says “no” and “stop” a whole lot and Jaime carries on regardless; at one point she says “it’s not right”, to which he responds “I don’t care”.

But here’s the thing. “Forcing himself on her” and “forced sex” are synonyms for rape. There’s no if’s or but’s or maybe’s about it: she said no, he carried on, that equals rape. And herein lies the inherent problem.

For me personally, it’s not about the changes to the book this time (and this is the second time a sex scene in the books has been “dramatised” as a rape; what was a surprisingly tender moment between Daenerys and Khal Drogo in the books was also turned into a brutal rape in the TV show back in series one); it’s about the minimising of the rape. I mean I don’t agree with it, even in light of the changes made to the plot, but it wouldn’t be the first time rape has been used as a plot driver in a fictional story. It’s not my personal cup of tea but then again neither’s dismembering corpses, yet crime fiction is one of the consistent best-selling genres of fiction. Plus rape, y’know, HAPPENS, which means that people making TV dramas or writing books are going to use it as a way of moving the plot along, whether it’s a police procedural or a gritty revenge drama. So. Bad stuff happens and fiction writers write about it. It happens. What HAS pissed me off, however, has been the minimising done by those connected with the show and some of the comments I’ve seen from men about rape in the debates which have spawned from this incident.

It seems utterly ridiculous to me that in the 21st century we still have to point this out to people, but apparently there are some who just don’t get it. Rape is rape is rape. There are no “grey areas”, no “shades”, no “yes-and-no” about it; there is only rape. If someone says “no, I don’t want you putting that tongue/finger/penis/sex toy/bottle/whatever inside my person, thank you very much,” and you go right ahead and do it anyway, guess what? You’re a rapist. It doesn't matter if we're drunk, sober, virgins, prostitutes, walking home alone at 3am, in a cab, wearing red knickers or wearing a burka - NO MEANS NO. And that applies whether it's a stranger, fuck buddy or your long-term partner: if someone says "no” to sex – even if they've let you do it before and even if they said yes and then changed their minds and said no – and you carry on regardless YOU HAVE COMMITTED RAPE!!! The law is unequivocal on this; and I quote:

“Rape:
A person is deemed to have committed an offence if -
a) he intentionally penetrates the vagina, anus or mouth of another person (B) with his penis;
b) B does not consent to the penetration; and
c) A does not reasonably believe that B consents.”
(Sexual Offences Act 2003)

There is also an offence of “assault by penetration” which is similar except it relates to penetration of the vagina or anus “by a part of his body or anything else”.

Now anyone who thinks that a woman saying “no” and “stop” constitutes anything other than non-consent is at best deluded and at worst a danger. I'm GLAD the scene was “hard to film”; so it bloody should be!! Anyone having shits and giggles over filming a rape scene wants their head examined; to then minimise the scene – to imply that it's all ok because she “gave in” in the end and everything between them is a “turn on” - is hugely irresponsible and incredibly disrespectful to anyone who has ever been a victim/survivor of rape. It is, however, yet another reminder of the systemic and endemic misogyny and sexual objectification of women which is so prevalent in our society. We live in a world where violent porn is accessed by kids and seen as “normal sex”, for god's sake. I don't need a UN Special Envoy to tell me how sexist Britain is; I live it. We live in a society where rape is both a punchline (ha ha, how hilarious) and the most brutal outcome of the opposite end of that spectrum; where sexual violence has become so normalised that teenage girls don't know they've been victims of rape or sexual assault “because he's my boyfriend/in my maths class/everyone else did it”. That's beyond abhorrent. We need to be dismantling these myths, tearing down the layers of bullshit which surround this issue so that the next generation realises that it's wrong. We need strong, brilliant women to teach their daughters/younger sisters/nieces to sit up and say “oy, misogyny, bog off and leave us alone!” and we need strong, brilliant men to sit their sons/younger brothers/nephews down and tell them that when a girls says no she means no; when she says yes and then changes her mind and says no she means no; that if she says yes because you pressured her into it then she hasn't really said yes. We need to stop victim blaming; the whole "oh, she was drunk/led me on/was wearing red knickers/walked home by herself/said yes to start with etc etc" thing is just horrendous. Rape is always the fault of the rapist, NEVER the victim; and on the issue of consent if a person is *that* drunk then they CANNOT give informed consent and so it is STILL rape!!! Similarly if you go to bed with your wife/girlfriend/woman you picked up in a club and she suddenly turns round and says “no, I changed my mind, I don't want to sleep with you” but you ignore that...ta-dah! Rapist. It doesn't matter that you've been married twenty years, or that she kissed you in the club, or that she let you sleep with her last week – once she says “no” and you don't stop, you've committed an illegal act.

The complete bullshit spouted by the GoT team on this issue has just added another layer of normalisation – nay, even glamorisation – of the entire issue of rape and sexual violence in our society and I for one am getting heartily sick of it. To put it in simple terms, it's like the NSPCC campaign to teach children the Underwear Rule: MY body, MY rules, and if I say stop you bloody well stop. Otherwise it's rape. End of. Simple as. There is no 'technical' rape or “shade” of rape or “degree” of rape or any other bullshit definition; there is only rape.. The fact we still have to point this out to people just goes to show how depressingly far there is to go...

Sunday 6 April 2014

Allow Me To Introduce Myself...

...I'm a woman of no wealth and slightly questionable taste.  Hi, I'm Kate.  I'm almost 32 (erk!) but in my head I'm actually only about 17.  I love my cat, my family and my friends, have a passion for vintage fashion and know all the words to all the songs in The Rocky Horror Picture Show.  I like full moon nights, sunsets, walks in the park and reading.  I write a little (ok, a lot) and have a thing for rock, heavy metal and cheesy pop songs.  And sometimes cheesy rock/metal songs, because there are days when a girl just needs a bit of Manowar in her life.  (Sometimes).  My favourite swear sentence in the whole wide world is "fuck-a-duck".  Oh, I also have boobs.

Aaaaaand with that last sentence I immediately eradicate everything that makes me a unique and quirky individual Human Bean and reduce myself to nothing more than an Object, like a table or a lamp, for other people to pass judgement on as they see fit.  At least I'm pretty sure it's the boobs.  I mean I thought it was the serial killer thing, or the weird way I dance when I walk sometimes, but closer inspection of Society-in-General and a brief poll among my friends both with and without boobs pretty much put that theory to bed.  The ones without boobs didn't have the same experiences I've had, but the ones with boobs all spoke of similar things. So yeah; it's boobs and the possession thereof which apparently renders Kate-the-Individual-Person a non-entity and makes Kate-the-Sexualised-Object appear in her place.  Pretty neat trick if you ask me...

Except it isn't a trick, it's a fact of life.  Apparently being female immediately makes it perfectly acceptable for the rest of the world to reduce me from a complex bunch of cells with diverse and wide-ranging interests into a cardboard cut-out.  And I've had enough of it, especially since today I noticed the effect it has on my god-daughter (almost 13) and her friends.  I bumped into them in town and as we were talking a group of lads of about 14/15 walked past and made some comments about the girls which made me want to race after them and smack them.  Hard.  The girls, however, merely shrugged and informed me that "boys always speak to girls like that".  I genuinely didn't know whether to scream or cry at that.  If I'm honest I still don't, but it brought home to  me, not for the first time, how all-encompassing and pervasive the entrenched misogyny and 'porn culture' is in our society.  

"Don't go out dressed like that, son; all the girls will think you're asking for it!" said no mother to her male offspring ever.  And yet because I am in the possession of boobs, apparently whatever I wear is cause for comment on my perceived sexuality or lack thereof.  But here's the thing: I wear what I want because I like wearing it, not because of what anyone else wants.  Some days I dress like a total slob - jeans, crappy t-shirt, hoody - because frankly I can't be arsed with anything else; and some days I wear short skirts and low-cut tops because dammit, that's just how I roll.  But no matter what I choose to clothe myself in doesn't give anyone - anyone; my mother, my friends, random strangers in the street - the right to pass either comment or judgement on me.  If I'm covering up on a 'slob' day it doesn't give you the right to tell me I should 'make more of my assets', and if I'm flashing a bit of flesh it doesn't mean you should assume I'm a slag and address me accordingly.  We've had our disagreements over the years, my boobs and I, but we've come to some sort of mutual acceptance now so if I'm wearing something that might give a sneak peek of them, believe me when I say its entirely for my benefit and no one else's.  No one has the right to tell me, or anyone else for that matter, that what we're wearing is in some way related to any form of sexualistion; either to judge us or attempt to oppress us.

Growing up female, I was very aware of all the things I should and shouldn't do to try and prevent myself becoming a rape statistic.  Don't walk alone after dark, especially not down alleyways or through car parks.  Don't let your drink out of your sight.  Keep your keys in your hand, or a can of deodorant in your bag.  I don't remember all the edicts meted out to the boys telling them not to rape girls but still, you can't be everywhere, so maybe I missed them while I was busy keeping an eye on my drink and clinging to my keys.  

Don't get me wrong, I have to hold my hands up and confess to my own sins.  There have been times when I have, to all intents and purposes, objectified members of the opposite sex; in the grand scheme of things, however, my harping on about how gorgeous George Clooney is remains a mere drop in the ocean compared to the barrage of sexual objectification women are subjected to day in and day out.  Men are nowhere near held to the same level of objectification as women; yes, the Dreamboys and the Chippendales and their ilk could be argued to be seen as mere 'sexual objects', but compare them to to the numbers of women prancing around in their underwear in advertisements and 'lad mags' and what have you and the comparison becomes laughable.  Just recently the Sun has even started trying to posit its Neanderthal Page 3 thing as a weapon in the fight against breast cancer!  Now while I think it's vitally important that men as well as women are aware of the signs of breast cancer - after all, they often get quite up close and personal with our boobs - the idea that Page 3 is suddenly some ultra-feminist "ra ra ra, aren't we brilliant" statement is frankly laughable.  How is posting a picture of some nubile young thing in her underwear in any way related?  It's yet another excuse for them keeping such a prehistoric thing going, plus it only reinforces the idea that women are merely objects for men to lust over.  I suppose the next time some random idiot attempts to grab my tits on a night out I should thank him; after all, he could be the one who saves my life by discovering I have cancer...yeah, right.  My boobs, my rules; the only way anyone gets to go groping them is on my say-so.  Besides, if I wanted someone to take a look and make sure there wasn't anything scary going on with them I'd ask my GP, not "random Sun reader in the pub".  

I've always been in two minds about the whole "porn" thing, actually.  On the one hand, it's about bloody time women were entitled to take charge of their own sexuality.  ("What, you mean we can actually decide when we have orgasms and who we have them with?!  Halle-bloody-lujah!!!")  Why shouldn't we; our bodies, our rules after all, and if the likes of Jenna Jameson can amass a small personal fortune by making the most of what she's got then bloody good luck to her.  On the other hand...well, Jenna Jameson herself admits she can't actually watch any of her own work, in spite of the fact she's a one-woman industry and was at one stage the highest paid female porn star in the world, and that's before you even mention the rape and abuse she suffered in her younger days.  Female empowerment?  Um, not really; sure, these women are getting paid loads to be in this porn film/lapdance in this club/pose for this magazine, but actually the people (mainly men) who see it are not going to be interested in them as individual people - they're just another pretty girl we can drool over and get our rocks off to.  And that then feeds right back into the way male entitlement sees women as cardboard cut-out sex objects they can project their own desires onto, so "normal" women  then become just as fetishised and objectified as the porn stars and glamour models which leads to the whole "slut-shaming, slut-dropping, I'm-going-to-grope-you-in-a-club, everyday sexism women have to endure.

Now I've seen my fair share of pornos in my time and, frankly, I find them laughable.  All the women look incredibly bored throughout the entire thing; I'm sure they're actually calculating how best to spend their wages when they get off the set rather than on what they're actually supposed to be doing.  It's just wall to wall plastic-looking women plastered in make-up, looking ridiculously bored and twirling their hair round their fingers, pouting a lot and making vague "ooh" noises.  Fuck-a-duck, is that really it?  If so then I also think porn is demeaning for men, too; if all it takes to get you off, boys, is some bored-looking woman trying not to grimace in pain while her back arches ever higher off the bed/floor/kitchen counter and groaning in the right places while some bloke bangs away at her, or an equally bored-looking girl for that matter, then I feel really sorry for you; you're missing out on a whole world of sexual experiences and you don't even realise.  Frankly I'd much rather get my rocks off reading Anais Nin than watching Jenna Jameson make out with the "man who's come to fix her washing machine".   Not to mention the fact it gives both boys and girls incredibly unrealistic expectations when it comes to sex; as we now live in a world where even primary school kids are aware of pornography, since they all seem to have their own laptops/tablets/i-Phones etc these days, we shouldn't be surprised at all the reports coming out which bang on about how children are being exposed to this stuff at ever-earlier ages.  Or the ones which highlight how many young girls are having sex because "everyone else is and that's just what you do", even if they don't actually want to.  Besides, it's not rape if it's the boy in your maths class and everyone else has slept with him, right?  Um, wrong...but thanks to the prevalence and fetishisation of ever-increasingly-violent porn, apparently this is the new normal.

I fully appreciate that we of the 'fairer sex' are bloody gorgeous, but why the hell does it have to be our raison d'etre, and why can we not just be 'sexy' (or not) because WE want to (or not)?  What if Eva Herzigova wasn't advertising Wonderbras to say "hello boys" (objectification/sexualisation) but "hello, Girls, you look rather fabby in this bra and now I feel awesome"?  I wore my Wonderbra not because I was desperate for male attention but because I hated my small boobs (sorry, Girls) and wearing said Wonderbra made me feel better about myself.  It's got nothing to do with anyone else, much like what I choose to wear on top of said Wonderbra has nothing to do with anyone else; I'm  getting heartily sick and tired of turning on my TV or opening a magazine or walking into a shop and being confronted with scantily-clad stick insects with fake breasts advertising stuff.  No wonder sexual assaults and rape figures are going up; no wonder teenage boys don't think there's anything wrong with making sexualised comments about teenage girls, and that teenage girls just shrug it off as normal; the "pornification" of our culture is endemic and it's getting beyond a joke.  I want my god-daughter to be proud of her body rather than go through the whole body-loathing thing I did as a teenager/young adult, but I want her to be proud of it because SHE thinks it's awesome, not because some spoddy oik in a hoody passes some sort of benevolent judgement on her.  I want her and her friends to celebrate the fact they can wear mini-skirts when they're older if they so choose, but I don't want them to have to constantly justify themselves to men when and if they do.  Most importantly, while I know that not every man in the world thinks like this and are actually aware of the whole "my body, my rules" thing, I want boys to be taught that girls are Human Beans like them, with a whole myriad of complex thoughts and feelings and opinions on stuff, and that they should be treated as such rather than as some object of sexual gratification.  My body, my rules.  Even though I have boobs...