Clarisse Thorn sees nothing new in eroticized images of male dominance and violence, but she sees plenty that’s thought-provoking.
This is a slightly longer version of a piece that was originally posted at Role/Reboot. Republished with permission.
Much is being made of the highly successful S&M erotica novel 50 Shades of Grey. People are blaming feminism for making women into submissives, blaming feminism for preventing women from being submissives, blaming women for having sexual desires at all, and a whole lot of other boring and typical stuff that comes up in any conversation about women and S&M. News flash: it’s not the feminist revolution that is “causing” women to have fantasies of submission. S&M fantasies have been around since the beginning of time. (And the 1950s S&M-sensation book, The Story of O, was much better written than 50 Shades of Grey.)
As an S&M writer, I hear a lot of allegations about how “all” (or “almost all”) women are sexually submissive and how this must Mean Something. This is echoed in the coverage of 50 Shades of Grey, in which everyone is demanding to know What It All Means About Women. I wrote a piece a while back called “‘Inherent Female Submission’: The Wrong Question,” in which I took on a lot of this stuff. But there’s another submerged question here — about men. There’s plenty of talk and stereotypes about how men are inherently violent, or more aggressive than women, or “the dominant sex.”
As I said in my previous article: I think it’s quite questionable whether women are “inherently submissive,” but my conclusion is that I don’t care. It doesn’t actually matter to me whether women in general are “inherently submissive” (though I really don’t think women are), or whether submissive women’s preferences are philosophically Deep And Meaningful (though I’m not convinced they are). What matters is:
1. How women (or any other people) can explore sexually submissive preferences consensually,
2. How women (or any other people) can compartmentalize submissive preferences so that their whole lives are safe and fulfilling and happy, and
3. How women (or any other people) can be treated well in arenas that aren’t even relevant to their sexuality — like the workplace.
This is also how I feel about these ideas of “inherent male violence.” I don’t buy that men are “the dominant sex” or that men are “inherently violent.” Based on what I’ve read, it seems quite clear that individuals with higher testosterone levels — who are, incidentally, not always men — often experience more aggressive feelings. Yet that’s a far cry from large-scale generalizations, and it’s also frequently irrelevant to questions about how people can best deal with those aggressive feelings. Plus, psychological submission can be a very separate thing from physical aggression levels.
Much of the time, when it comes to aggression, anger management is the answer, the same way a naturally shy or submissive person needs to learn to set boundaries. But there are circumstances where catharsis is completely acceptable. Lots of perfectly decent men have urges towards violent dominance; what do they do about it? How much do they agonize, like Christian Grey in 50 Shades of Grey, and how much do they explore their desires in a consensual and reasonable way?
I always thought that the late-90s movie Fight Club was fascinating primarily because of its lens on masculinity and violence. It’s not just about the violence men to do each other, but to themselves. Quotes include “You have to give up; you have to know that someday you’re gonna die,” and “The first rule of Fight Club is: you do not talk about Fight Club.” I first watched it before I knew much about S&M, but now whenever I think about it, I think about how the idea of a fight club — where people would get together and fight, for catharsis and community — is so very reminiscent of how a lot of people experience S&M. Fight Club even has safewords. Someone says stop, you stop. I obviously don’t support the endpoint of the Fight Club story (i.e., blowing up buildings), but the idea of establishing a men’s community via a fight club seems reasonable to me.
So, what are the practicalities of dealing with aggressive or dominant tendencies in the sexual arena? As an S&M person, I’ve experimented with dominance as well as submission, but because violence is so associated with masculinity, I turned to some egalitarian male S&Mers for advice. I believe that even for non-S&M people, their perspectives make a really good lens for ideas of gender and violence and power. Of course, the first thing one of my friends told me was: “I’m not sure I really see dominance in general as being particularly masculine. I don’t really think it’s a gender associated thing.”
That gentleman, who comments around the Internet under the name Scootah, went on to add: “I’ve certainly worried about my kinks in the past. I mean fundamentally, I get really, really turned on by grabbing someone by the hair, throwing them into the wall, backhanding them, etc. That’s a pretty disturbing thought for an egalitarian who’s worked with abuse victims. I spend a lot of time considering the ethics of my kinks; my partners’ enthusiastic consent is a major priority. There are certainly elements that could potentially unbalance a relationship in my favor. I’m a big reasonably strong guy. I do usually make more money than my partners. I also have this whole sense of position in the local S&M community. I mostly just try to be aware of those things. I try to be very careful about not taking advantage of that and negotiate clearly and not pressure people.”
There are lots of ways to do clear negotiation, including asking open-ended questions before any S&M actually happens: “What are you interested in? Could you go into that more?” There’s also a huge emphasis on talking through the S&M encounter afterwards, as part of the post-S&M processing we call aftercare. As another gent who goes by Noir said: “It really helped me to have a few great, feminist S&M partners. Having that echo of ‘it’s OK, I want this,’ as well as the honest feedback when I do wrong really helped shape how I experience S&M, and with who. It’s meant I learned how better to read and grasp the people in my, er, grasp.”
Noir also noted, “I strive to use dominance and submission as a tool for helping my partners become stronger, in ways that also feed my S&M preferences. For example, I tend to form long-term interests with women who want a ‘safe space’ to extend and explore their ability to be sluts, with all that can imply. But in the process, we also explore how becoming more confident in one’s sexuality also can reflect into everyday life. Also, just coming to spaces in the S&M community can be a goldmine of information. All a dominant man has to do is read, listen, open up and understand. One thing I learned was that my fears about reenforcing our messed-up society were shared by women into kink… but also that my ways of approaching the topic, as ‘oh, we’re so controlled by society!’ were themselves pushing too much agency out of women’s choices. There’s a balance there that we guys who identify as both feminist and kinky have to respect, and that can come from listening to feminist women struggle with these issues, themselves.”
The alternative sexuality advocate Pepper Mint (who has his own blog) told me that in terms of putting gender on his experiences, “I am a bit genderqueer, and I personally experience dominance with either a feminine or masculine vibe from moment to moment. Certain activities — like punching — feel masculine, while others — like whipping — feminine in the moment. Also, I switch, meaning that I don’t always take the dominant role. Strangely, my most clearly masculine S&M activity is masochism. I always feel very manly while taking pain. I don’t think I can clearly explain why these things have attached to gender in my head, though presumably I’m being affected by cultural tropes to some extent.”
The consensus in general was that dominance, whether masculine or feminine, is something that happens in an encounter… not outside it. As Pepper put it, “New guys often want to play hard or do hardcore things, and will often boast and swagger. Kinky women almost always recognize this as dangerous bullshit. Learn to chill out and not take yourself too seriously, and learn to start with a light careful touch when playing with someone new. Learn to ask for help and guidance, both from others in your S&M community and from your partners.”
Scootah agreed: “The first mistake I see newbie doms make is trying too hard to be some kind of badass. Admit your inexperience. Be seen learning. Be modest and have a good time. Learn to communicate well, and to really be friends with your prospective partners.”
For me, the bottom line of these conversations is that questioning gender roles, and understanding gender complications, is an ongoing process. People have a lot of urges and preferences that are politically inconvenient and which we will never fully understand. Whether we’re shaped by biology or culture, those feelings will still exist for now, and we have to deal with them. There are ways to do almost anything such that people respect each other, though — whatever the implications for gender or power. Violence is complicated ground, but it can be used in balanced and consensual ways that end up bonding people together. 50 Shades of Grey and Fight Club are both examples, and I haven’t even touched competitive sports!
Photo—Muscled male model from Shutterstock
About Clarisse Thorn
This author brings together such a weird set of books (and movie), fight club and fifty shades of grey. These two really are extremely different and unrelated. Fight Club is in essence about men liberating themselves from consumerism, through the only means our society has allowed men to retain, violence. Not that violence is at all a good quality, it is also a quality that despite the constant belaboring of the main stream media, most men don’t really have.
On the other hand Fifty Shades of Grey, which I will admit I have not read, is about what is in all honesty the height of the traditional conservative marriage, one in which an attractive woman “submits” to a wealthy man whom she gives certain privileges in exchange for his complete financial support. There is noting remotely revolutionary about this book, nothing that even pushes the borders of normalcy except possibly the explicit nature of the violence, (BDSM play). Now if this story was about a women who decided she would have a male as a sexual servant, and whom she would house, feed, and provide for financially then that might be something to write about.
Here the author presents a very well constructed analysis of acceptable male violence and male communal bonding through violence.
You attempt – pretty transparently – to undermine that analysis by challenging her reading of two textual sources, one of which you yourself have never perused.
Why?
First of all, Fight Club is much more complex work than you give it credit for. Sure, it explores “men liberating themselves from consumerism” as an overarching theme, but assigning that as the sum total of its points does the novel a disservice. I for one, enjoy Ms. Thorn dissecting some of the less apparent moves the book makes – which by the way, are no less valid despite the fact that Mr. Palahniuk doesn’t beat you over the head with them.
Next, you vilify Fifty Shades of Grey, claiming, “There is noting remotely revolutionary about this book, nothing that even pushes the borders of normalcy except possibly the explicit nature of the violence.” Huh, I didn’t realize that books needed to completely shatter all established social boundaries to be worthy of criticism. I also can’t seem to find the part where Ms. Thorn asserts the “revolutionary” natures of this book. That said, when was the last time BDSM play was highlighted in even a semi-positive way in even semi-mainstream literature?
Did you read the same article I did? Perhaps your browser loaded only the articles title, so that was all you had to go on?
From my perspective Ms. Thorn connected two quite disparate books through the common theme of bonding through violence, included some examples of individual she knows and their multifaceted relationship with violence and sex, and added some thoughtful non-obvious criticism. She articulates clearly some of the places where aggression still has a healthy place in our culture, while drawing attention to the importance of communication. In total a very well constructed article and a nice read.
Also, Ms. Thorn I love how you write about BDSM. Having never experimented with that kind of alternative sexuality, your writing provides wonderful window into that lifestyle, and into the thoughtfulness and care its members have. If only mainstream sexuality could think or communicate even 1/10 as clearly as the people you highlight in your articles.
Aww, thank you. This comment was super awesome for me to read today! I feel like you really got what I was saying.
@Clarisse Thorn: “This comment was super awesome”
Yep. Isn’t it nice, when someone really thinks, instead than just going with prejudices?
“Did you read the same article I did? Perhaps your browser loaded only the articles title, so that was all you had to go on?” C’mon dude, really?
In the end, I’ve re-read my comment, I’ve re-read the article, I stand by my original oppinion, but perhapse I mis-stated my true problem with the article. Aside from it’s somewhat unfair painting of fight club as being some sort of glorification of male violence, my real problem with the article is this.
I think many people think of BDSM as being strictly about violent sexuality, as rightly they should, becasue BDSM often involves acting out scenes of sexual violence between two people. But BDSM is much more than that, it’s a philosophy and it’s one that I don’t agree with, nore do I think is realistic when it comes to how humans interact and how humans attract one another.
The philosophy behind BDSM is actually quite simple, it’s the idea that all sexual concent must be explicit, not implicit. On the surface I agree that this is a good thing, I don’t/would never advocate someone being forced into sex that they don’t want.
But, and this is BIG, human sexuality is very complex, the very nature of human sexuality runs at odds with the idea that all sexuality must start with complete and explicit prior concent. And further more that that concent needs to be acompanied by an exact script for what will happen, how long it will happen, and how it will happen. This is my problem with BDSM in honesty as an ethic it just doesn’t fit into anything but the simplest most childish sexual reality. One in which everything is coverd in 10 feet of foam rubber so no one can get hurt. Life doesn’t work like that, life isn’t scripted.
“Now if this story was about a women who decided she would have a male as a sexual servant, and whom she would house, feed, and provide for financially then that might be something to write about.”
Hah.. Now, if it were that, I wonder if it would still be a popular read.
Er, firstly, I’m not sure how many marriages were ever really like that. Secondly, bdsm relationships (which certainly seems to be what the book is describing) are less than present in mainstream literature.
Just because the BDSM relationship in question involves a submissive woman and a dominant man doesn’t mean that it, in any way, fits neatly into the mould.
Clarisse, very interesting article. It highlights an anxiety I feel about BDSM activitites which is, how is it possible to be comfortable with someone whose deepest fantasies involve such, well, acts of hostility and violence towards another human being (i.e., me)? I have only tried BDSM once, many years ago. A boyfriend asked if he could tie me up and blindfold. In retrospect, it was all pretty tame, actually. We were both quite inexperienced sexually. The 2 things that happened were (a) I found the experience arousing, and (b) I felt a little sick and disappointed to see a side of him that I hadn’t expected: a side that was controlling and rather scary. I broke up with him soon after, in part because he had freaked me out. I don’t think BDSM is my thing, but I am somewhat fascinated by the way people who are into it can reconcile these opposing qualities, for example, being caring or loving to someone you want to punch in the face and treat like sh*t, or trusting/loving someone who really loves punching you in the face and throwing you against a wall. I admit, it’s hard to understand from an outsider’s perspective.
“Good article”, you must never forget that a healthy BDSM relationship is always based on two main concepts: it’s between adults and it’s consensual. In other words, it’s what some people like to do or be, it’s not “forced upon”. Hence, I don’t think you can call it “hostility”.
Even “vanilla” (regular) sex can be rough or almost violent (in the full heat of passion), yet we understand is not because we hate our partner… it’s because both like it that way.
We know some things are not perfectly healthy, like drinking or smoking or extreme sports, yet many people enjoy them. In BDSM, people enjoy things that may seem “strange” or “harmful”, yet they like it that way.
In BDSM, the person being hit enjoys it: why s/he would do it otherwise? It’s all about pleasure: in BDSM, some people feel pleasure inflicting pain, and some people feel pleasure experiencing pain… and they both do it for their own enjoyment. As strange as it might sound, it’s a deliberate choice.
As long as it’s consensual and between adults, what’s the matter?
After all, many people enjoy polluting their lungs by smoking, or stressing their bodies through drinking. It’s somehow harmful, yet they enjoy it. Human beings are often odd creatures.
As a matter of fact, relationships and sexuality are quite complex matters. Nobody can really inscribe them into simple rules or limiting terms. There’s no just one right way to love or be loved, or to have sex.
There’s only the right way for YOU and, if it’s ok with you (and your partner(s)), that’s enough.
You say “I don’t think BDSM is my thing”. Yet you were aroused.
I think the problem wasn’t what you did (it was tame), but that you were scared and judging (yourself and your partner). Maybe you rejected the whole BDSM thing just because you were afraid to discover something about yourself…?
In the end, it’s only up to you deciding what’s good for you.
Still, you cannot understand something you don’t know. And being judgmental denies the possibility of understanding.
OTOH, good information might help to understand and stop being frightened by something. Ms. Clarisse’s website is a very good place to do that.
I don’t want to be with someone who is aroused by causing pain to someone else. I admit I’m judgey about that, only with respect to my own standards of what I want in another person ( I don’t want to sound like I’m judging others for what they want, as long as it’s consensual). My one experience, yes, I found it arousing, but I didn’t want to repeat the experience because that was not the kind of relationship I wanted with my boyfriend. Fundamentally I don’t want to be with someone who enjoys being cruel and hurtful, even if I’m capable of finding it erotic for whatever deep psychological reasons I have. I’m not sure that makes sense, but I can’t care for someone who gets off on causing me pain, even if I enjoy it. What does that say about him as a person, that he has urges to hurt me? I would never agree to whip someone even if they asked me to because I don’t like what that would do to ME.
exactly! that’s what i always think about rape. how can the dude see himself again in the mirror? “i like to hurt people”, “i like to humiliate people”. i know that bdsm needs consent, but imagine you have a caring boyfriend and discover that his deep wish is to beat you, curse you, spit on you, etc? how can he like you if he has so many bad feelings about you? if he thinks you deserve to be beaten? it’s not possible to like someone and hurt them. it’s like hating someone and kiss them.
and about the serviant role… well, being tied is one thing, it’s just like holding arms against the bed, it’s just sb losing some control (and this is why people drink or use drugs, to free themselves a bit). but the hurting part? hell no. when people say there are some people who like feeling pain, i imagine if they also like waxing, needles, cuting the finger with paper, suffering a car accident? i understand that some people, for some reason, like to act this role, i simply cannot believe that their motivation is liking feeling pain.
i trully want to understand why violence must have space in our lives. violence is good for who?
@alice: “it’s not possible to like someone and hurt them.”
Actually, it is (within couples who shares BDSM kinks).
You need to expand your horizon. The human mind is much more complex (and contradictory) than you think.
“i simply cannot believe that their motivation is liking feeling pain.”
And yet, masochism has been acknowledged as real for a long time.
That you cannot believe it, doesn’t make it any less real.
BTW, there are masochists and submissive men too. So it’s not gender-related.
“i trully want to understand why violence must have space in our lives.”
Life is not so simple.
Some people enjoy risks (think extreme sports). Some people enjoy violent sports. Some people enjoy fighting (think boxe).
Hey, some people even enjoy drinking or eating or smoking harmful, death-causing stuff. And it’s their right doing so!
So, the problem is not what one is doing, the problem is consent and not imposing anything on others.
Personally I find that the kind of people who view dominance/submission as integral to one gender or the other either aren’t involved in the BDSM scene or are justifying some aspect of their religion. Most BDSMers I know would separate gender and power dynamics.
Also: I’m so glad you didn’t describe fight club as dominance porn
. From the title I thought that’s where it was going.
i know it is offtopic, but woof that photo is so damn hot – the power of male beauty.
Hell yes
In the end, I think it’s about freedom.
If one’s freedom isn’t violating another’s freedom, what’s the problem?
S/he might be odd, s/he might look funny, s/he might do crazy things… yet, what’s the problem?
I think people overbearing and controlling over sexuality and relationships (be it being gay, contraception, number of partners, gay marriage, BDSM… or anything else), is just emotionally immature and frightened people who just cannot stand difference and variety.
They are too afraid so they feel the need to control. They “paint” the world scary, because they’re themselves scared.
FWIW, I sense some of the same judgment of emotional immaturity and difference-phobia in the very term “vanilla.” The implication is that fully realized adult sexuality MUST involve pain or power play, and that people sharing bodily pleasure short of that are somehow repressing their passion, or worse, their “nature.”
Well…I’d wager any hostility toward the term is a reaction to the hostility kink has received by society…which doesn’t make it all right, but does explain it.
The thing is, there needs to be a term that describes vanilla sex…so what would you suggest is a better term?
@pwlsax: “I sense some of the same judgment of emotional immaturity and difference-phobia in the very term “vanilla.” ”
Maybe that’s just your projection…
Personally I love ice-cream. I like any flavor, included vanilla, but vanilla is not my most favored. Yet I have nothing against it, nor against people enjoying it.
The same goes for sex. “Vanilla” is not my most favored kind of sex, yet I enjoy it, and I have nothing against it.
@pwlsax: “The implication is that fully realized adult sexuality MUST involve pain or power play”
This sounds totally as YOUR projection.
No BDSM practitioner ever said their lifestyle should be adopted by other people. Ever.
Your implication above, highlights your ignorance about the subject matter.
BTW, BDSM lifestyles involve many different kind of experiences, and pain or power play are just two of them. Yet, no BDSMer (whatever his kink is) pushes for his kink to become “the norm”. “To each his own” is the mantra.
Rather, the people who think their lifestyle should be the only “allowed” one, are usually “vanilla”.
So, who are the judgmental and difference-phobic ones?
To be clear, I never said they were out to evangelize. But I do think the name vanilla might serve as a tacit judgment – something that could help the community feel valid by saying “we’re not the fxxxed up ones.” Quietly, inwardly, to themselves.
But it’s not QUITE live-and-let-live. More like live, let live, and nurse just a seedling of an old grudge, in case it’s ever needed again someday. Not ideal, but natural for any persecuted group.
@pwlsax: “To be clear, I never said they were out to evangelize”
Ok.
@pwlsax: “But I do think the name vanilla might serve as a tacit judgment”
AFAIK (and I’ve been around that field for many years), it does not.
Basically, “vanilla” is simply a label, a way to distinguish between kink and not-kink.
Sometimes there can be a light, smirking “snob-ish” attitude (“Oh, he’s just vanilla…”
)… but that happens in every niche and specialty.
I never perceived a grudging attitude.
I wonder how much of your point comes from actual personal experience, and how much is just your own assumption.
To be perfectly honest I read the other day a book by an antropologist about sexuality and it said that most women assume submisive role in sex (or dream about one) because some primitive part of our brain activates that. If you look at male and female animals mating you will see that female always has to be still, not moving, pasive. It makes sense in a way. But let’s put that aside.
This book is not real representation of BDSM. Even I know that and I don’t know anything about BDSM other than I read in this book. Here the positions of power, dominant and submisive, are actually reversed. Christian who is the dom is the weak one and Anastasia is the stronger one. Her accepting to be submisive I find inherently as a pasive-agresive move. She holds the power because he takes care of her. He thinks about her all the time, her pleasure, what she needs and might want (I repeat this is how it is represented in the book). So when women who like this book say that the reason they like it is because when they are taking care of their family every day all day, it’s nice to have (or dream about) someone who will take care of you (take control). Taking care of family might seem as the dominant position but it is not. Subject is denying his own needs in favor of others. By becoming willingly submisive he ensures their fulfilment.
This is how I see this book and all the other male female relationships in romantic novels.
Well I’ve not read the book, so I won’t comment on that. What you’re saying about women and being passive sounds like a lot of pseudo science, actually. In part because there are plenty of animals where the female doesn’t take a passive role at all. Bonobos being the big one.
The antropologist is Helen Fisher- Why we love, Ch. 4, footnote 25
I also believe that evolution has had an effect on women being submissive when it comes to sex. I’m sure if anyone took the time to look through erotic novels, people would see the common roles that women play. I myself have read a study that turned into a book based on the differences of women and men’s sexual desires. I wish I could remember the name of the book, but it went over how women prefer the alpha male and how these vampire characters are the “ultimate alpha male”. The reason most women are attracted to these characters are because of the power they may have in a women, the strength and dominate role they can initiate in sex. Women tend to like a man who can take charge and know what they want. Of course, this does not apply to all women, but hey.. just look at how we are shaped into these ideas of the type of men we’re attracted to. Do I even have to begin with how Disney movies depict female and male roles? Now, that also reminds of us of how media shapes our thinking, expectation and our desires when it comes to being intimate.
I’m sure I could go on and expand on the factors that affect women to assume a submissive role, but I don’t have the time now.
Reading chapter after chapter of sexual encounters is not my thing but I read the Grey books. I’m not a fan of how it depicts that particular lifestyle in general but accept that is how many people in society are now going to get introduced to it.
Anyhow I felt from the get go that Christian is/was probably a switch versus someone who is just dom. And from what I recall in my reading of it he started as a submissive. But I can’t be 100% as I didn’t read it that carefully. So realistically to say he is truly dominant I do not think that is accurate. Anastasia quite obviously was not a submissive person in those books either. After talking to a variety of people who aren’t involved in the lifestyle (women exclusively) I found what they seemed to like most was not that he was dominant but that Anastasia was rescuing him from his messed up past. They looked completely past all the BDSM and gender role stuff and went right to the basis of virtually all romance novels which is one person rescuing the other.
I would bet that many women and men are actually “switch” sorts of people in the grand scheme of things with not wanting to constantly be the person initiating or dominating even in a vanilla situation or in their day to day life.