sexual abuse

Lily's Odyssey

kristin — Sun, 19 Sep 2010 10:00:00 +0000

This book is such an incredibly intimate look inside one woman’s life that I was almost ashamed of myself for reading it. The author’s voice is so true in its halting, neurotic narration that it was difficult to remember that this is a work of fiction.

We first meet Lily when one of her abusers dies and the reader is gently led through her mind’s wanderings as she tries to make sense of her role as a victim of incest. From the outside, Lily could be seen as any other woman raised in the Catholic Midwest during the baby boom generation. She managed to make her way to college, get married and divorced, and find a way to support her children largely on her own.

Lily’s Odyssey is not concerned with outward appearances, however. This story is about a woman’s journey to recall childhood abuse and come to terms with the way it has changed her life. Lily not only struggles to remember the abuse itself, but how to share that information with others, if at all. As a middle-aged woman, she has managed to find an awkward but polite existence with her extended family and worries that cracking open the past in order to be true to herself may destroy these relationships forever.

The dilemmas and internal monologue ring true as Lily takes the reader into her past and her nightmares. The story is a painful one, if only because the effects of the abuse on her life are so clear in so many ways. Lily’s view of herself and the world around her has been clouded by her mind’s attempts to reconcile her family’s inability to protect her from her abusers and the tangle of emotions and fears and rational thought is a difficult one to unravel.

It is said that one in four women suffers some kind of sexual abuse in her lifetime. With those statistics, it is not unreasonable to think that there is something in this book for everyone. If not victims ourselves, we all certainly know someone who has struggled with thoughts and feelings much like Lily’s and the author’s tender, accurate portrayal of the victim’s thoughts and emotions is a powerful way to increase our empathy.

Written by: Kari O’Driscoll, September 19th 2010

Voces Zine (Summer 2010, Issue 3)

admin — Wed, 07 Jul 2010 16:01:00 +0000

Edited by Noemi Martinez

The Voices Against Violence Project

Unapologetic. Raw. Honest.

The third issue of Voces Zine is a collection of poetry by artists from different communities—indigenous, people of color, trans, and queer—sharing their experiences as survivors of domestic and sexual violence. Originally inspired by a small community of Latino immigrants, this issue represents a first-time inclusion of contributors from outside of its original roots.

The eclectic air of the compilation reflects this shift. During an interview I asked editor Noemi Martinez about the strengths and weaknesses of such a model; she discussed how the stories could be competing or compatible, but that each needed to be told. I appreciated her insight and find this invites a greater audience, while also revealing the individual ways we experience violence against women. Some stories might resonate with one reader more than others, but each exposes the important variance of dynamics in surviving violence: blaming, loving, mistrusting, self-hating, empowering, forgiving, healing, hiding, ignoring, being vulnerable, being strong, being uncertain, being alone, being supported.

At times I felt I could sympathize with each word (“unwrap your bandages/let them wounds breathe/let them scab and itch/and fall/away”), with the uncertainty (“am i better?”), and with the paradox of anger and barren strength (“i aint no fucking weak, limp, helpless, shaking, hiding, trembling, dying, lonely, battered girl. i’m a woman with a black eye.”). Other writings left me unattached or distant, to which I cite Martinez’s foreword, “There is no guarantee how one will react to a particular writing when you are a survivor…as a reader, you might find these writings triggering, not helpful, judgemental [sic], totally off, fucked up, questionable, right on, brutally honest, truthful inspiring.” The point: take from Voces Zine what you can relate to, learn from what you might not, and leave the rest behind.

Voces Zine was created to support survivors and to provide a teaching tool for discussion and understanding of what violence against women means. While the variety of themes provide this type of catalyst, at times the compilation seemed to be more of a therapeutic outlet for each contributor. To this end, I do not fault the project, but commend it for its ability to provide a space in which “victim, survivor, thriver” can share, question, and grow.

I admire each of the contributors for finding the strength to speak up and write out and urge any person questioning, challenged by, or curious about violence against women to take a look through Voces Zine. In the interview, Martinez explained, “I’m not an editor. I’m not professional.” Although I believe she has proven her worth of both titles with this endeavour, the humility of her statement is yet another reflection of the DIY compassion and grassroots foundation of this project. Voces Zine is more than words on paper; it’s a resource of hope, inspiration, and healing.

Written by: Ani Colekessian, July 7th 2010

The Marien Revelation

admin — Fri, 16 Apr 2010 08:00:00 +0000

By Miguel Santana

Alligator Press

Miguel Santana's latest book, The Marien Revelation, which he simultaneously wrote in both English and Spanish, is not your Sunday School version of the Gospels. The reader picks up on that almost immediately when confronted with the two verses preceding the Prologue, regarding the evening before Jesus was arrested: the Secret Gospel of Mark and Mark 14:51-52.

These verses, mind you, precede a chapter wherein a Jesus-in-the-process-of-being-crucified recounts his experiences with a male lover whilst forsaking god: "Oh Father, how I begged you to stay away from me."

Thus does Santana present the reader with the first storyline, that of Mary and her son, Jesus. Jesus' request on the cross resonates throughout the book, especially when interwoven with the parallel story of the modern-day woman, Marien Valbuena, a "radical feminist" theologian who is in an abusive relationship with a former Catholic priest and who was sexually abused by her Mormon father.

It is always bold to revisit "the untouchable paradigms of our western civilization," as Santana refers to them, and infuse them with circumstances that are highly controversial. Undoubtedly, and unfortunately, critics will reject this book without reading it, because of the audacious idea that Jesus might have had a male lover. Yet, Santana's book, far from being a gimmick, is a beautiful combination of intellect, poetry, emotion, and re-contextualized passages of the Bible and other sacred/mythical texts.

From a feminist perspective, the divine feminine is fully present in Santana's Mary and, indeed, many elements of the novel reject an (arguably Judeo-Christian) obtrusive, authoritative god/father who imposes himself on unwilling humans. Mary, as a teacher of the Isis Mysteries, is at least as divine as her son in a world in which multiple mythologies co-exist and influence one another. Indeed, although the disciples venerate Mary for being the vessel from which Jesus was born, her aunt also baptizes her in the name of the Holy Mother, Isis, saying: "I'm Isis, sovereign of the world, the one who set forth laws and set what cannot be changed...I'm the queen of the rivers, the wind, and the sea. I'm the Lady of War, the Lady of Thunder. I have conquered destiny. Destiny obeys me. Blessed is Egypt, for it sustains me." Although, afterward, Mary confesses to having visions of sadness from Isis, perhaps signaling the coming of the male monotheistic god who will "reign over" her.

Within the interwoven Mary/Marien stories are many layers and interpretations. The two protagonists have much in common, despite the roughly 2000 years that separate them. They both want more than the "subjection and motherhood" that their birth religions require of them. And, presenting Mary as a mother who is both aware and accepting of Jesus' sexuality, Santana gives us a progressive model of ancient motherhood. Although, if Jesus took a male lover, what devout mother could be anything but accepting? Perhaps that is part of the conversation Santana was trying to stimulate.

To end, the novel is not linear, parts of it are ambiguous, and the shifts in point of view can be confusing at times. But in Santana's hands, the novel manages to come together in a coherent, lyrical revelation that is, perhaps most importantly, a personal one.

Written by: Fannie @ Fannie's Room, April 16th 2010

Creating a Life: The Memoir of a Writer and Mom in the Making

admin — Thu, 11 Mar 2010 01:00:00 +0000

By Corbin Lewars

Catalyst Book Press

Some books are pure pleasure, an escape, and others give us more to ponder. Some books allow us to reach down deep to the hidden place of our most private thoughts. Creating a Life is the latter kind.

Creating a Life is not just a memoir about giving birth to both a child and a life; it is a stunning tribute to the audacity it takes to reclaim one’s self. Corbin Lewars has given a voice to each and every woman who has experienced sexual abuse. One out of four girls has suffered childhood sexual abuse, a statistic provided in the introduction to warn the reader of the immensity of the author’s story.

In the beginning of the book, Lewars is honest about her obsession with having a baby. But her husband Jason is still deciding whether he wants a baby or not. In an attempt to satisfy her whirling emotions, she decides to get a Master’s degree while also remodeling her house. Her efforts do not quench her needs, and the reader is given glimpse after glimpse into her personal hell.

Jason finally agrees to procreate, and Lewars goes full steam into conception. The couple becomes pregnant in no time, only to lose the baby in the first trimester. Lewars enters an intense mourning period. Every memorable book has an instance when the reader experiences a point of light, and it was here that I began to engage with the author’s "real" story.

Lewars remembers a rape that occurred when she was twelve, a rape she had repressed since it happened. She comes to realize much of her dissatisfaction with her life is a byproduct of this denial. The memory of the rape sends her into therapy, where she promises to resolve her own issues before becoming a mother. With this clear plan, Lewars sets about fulfilling her quest to become whole. But the best made plans can change. She becomes pregnant again.

Creating a Life is one of the most exquisite and brave memoirs I have read in years. The message of hope and dedication is universal and steps outside the confines of the story itself, reaching women of all ages. As a writer, woman, and mother, I’m humbled by this beautiful, courageous book. Many life lessons are here for the learning.

Written by: Ann Hite, March 10th 2010

Little Venus

admin — Thu, 04 Mar 2010 09:00:00 +0000

By Carla Drysdale

Tightrope Books

Little Venus, a collection of poems by Carla Drysdale, is at once hauntingly beautiful and disturbing. The poems are an autobiographical account of child abuse, sexual abuse, and a dysfunctional family, yet Drysdale manages to strike the difficult balance between beauty and horror. As her first published book of poetry, this is an impressive debut.

Last month I reviewed Sharon Doubiago’s memoir, My Father’s Love: Portrait of the Poet as a Young Girl, which confronted similar topics. Both women use the medium of poetry to work through lingering and confusing feelings of pain, betrayal, and love. While Doubiago fleshes out the details of her abuse, Drysdale weaves a portrait through short verse poems.

While many of the poems talk about her father, there are a few poems that address the refuges in Drysdale’s life. I find “New Years Eve at the Artist’s Colony” particularly moving, as Drysdale recounts the solidarity a musician creates:

He played for us—the dreamers, creators, eccentrics, the driven, the insecure, the arrogant, the labeled and unlabeled, the disowned and owned again.

I was drawn to this poem because it establishes how the experience of music, like poetry, can bring together those alienated by society. It also offers an opportunity for love and for the body to be positive. While many of the poems about her father emphasize the imposing and frightening body, in “New Years Eve” the body becomes a sensual vehicle for the music. The body is not always violent.

The truth is that these are difficult and challenging poems, reminiscent of such established poets as Lucille Clifton, Janice Mirikitani, and Doubiago. I cannot say that I enjoy these poems, as they make me uncomfortable and sad. But I would not read Little Venus for enjoyment. Rather, I would read it to recognize Drysdale’s honesty and poetic voice. These are poems like open wounds, seeking to heal and be healed.

Review by Claire Burrows

Written by: Claire Burrows, March 4th 2010

Trailer Girl: And Other Stories

admin — Tue, 09 Feb 2010 01:00:00 +0000

By Terese Svoboda

University of Nebraska Press

One of my favorite short story collections of all time is Black Tickets, a masterpiece written by Jayne Anne Phillips in the 1970s. So hauntingly poetic and impressive were these stories written about rootless misfits by a young and relatively unknown writer that a giant of the short story genre, Raymond Carver, contributed a blurb to the book’s back cover. He wrote: “These stories of America’s disenfranchised are unlike any in our literature. She is an original, and this book of hers is a crooked beauty.”

A ‘crooked beauty’ is also what the sixteen mostly short-short stories in Svoboda’s Trailer Girl conjure up in word pictures. Written in the style of dreamy prose poems about the alienated and edgy lives of the walking wounded, these stories shimmer and dazzle with an intensity that sometimes creates the feeling of the world as a floating, melting cloud of illusion.

In the title novella, a woman is obsessed with the idea there’s a wild child living in the gully near the trailer park where she lives but nobody believes her. Is the wild child a figment of her imagination to help her deal with the sexual abuse she suffered as a child? The other trailer residents ignore her—until there is a murder.

In “Psychic” a clairvoyant suddenly discovers her client is a murderer and then proceeds to exploit him. In “Lost the Baby,” an alcoholic couple black out and can’t remember where they dropped off their child. In “Sundress” two kicked out foster children move into a house while the owners are away on vacation and pose as house-sitting relatives. For a little while, they pretend they have a home to call their own and are blissfully happy.

Models of compression, these short stories are each skillful dramas about the lives of those on the dark side of the American dream. The style is a searing and cutting edge exploration of the long lasting effects of abuse and loss. For those who like elegantly poetic stories, Svoboda’s the real deal: a writer’s writer who unflinchingly makes us see with an almost hallucinogenic double-quick timing. Her brilliance will leave you breathless.

Written by: Cheryl Reeves, February 8th 2010

My Father’s Love: Portrait of the Poet as a Young Girl

admin — Wed, 30 Dec 2009 17:01:00 +0000

By Sharon Doubiago

Wild Ocean Press

I find memoirs difficult to criticize, especially when the content is personal and intimate. The first volume of author and poet Sharon Doubiago’s memoir, My Father's Love, feels like an open wound, the scar tissue scraped off to allow for belated healing. My Father's Love is a detailed account of Doubiago’s childhood, tragically defined by sexual molestation by her father, and willful ignorance by her mother.

This is an engaging book, thanks to Doubiago’s poetic and honest language, fastidious fact checking, and pages of photographs to give a visual to the people in her early life. She traces her family tree back to its American roots, finding common threads that run throughout her family genealogy and her own life. This is not a short book, running over 400 pages, and yet Doubiago makes it all a coherent account. I turned each page, not to find out what happens next, but to get to know the young Sharon from the photographs.

Engaging with this story became confusing for me. Why do I read this book? Is it for myself, or for Doubiago? It’s not for entertainment or education, and there’s a bit of guilt involved in what sometimes feels like an invasion of privacy. Memoirs as a genre walk a fine line between voyeurism and empathy, exhibitionism and honesty.

Memoirs can be notoriously bad, exemplifying “navel-gazing” and self-promotion. However, a good memoir can be sublime. My personal favorites are Maxine Hong Kingston’s The Woman Warrior, Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar (admittedly a fictionalized memoir), and Allison Bechdel’s Fun Home. These are books that restore my faith in the memoir, so often challenged by poorly written, self-congratulatory schlock (I don’t need to name a recent “rogue” publication). My Father's Love, a heart wrenching read with a grim ending, evokes disconcerting emotions and questions, and demonstrates what a memoir is capable of.

Doubiago brings up weighty issues such as patriarchy, class discrimination, and false memory, as well as the pervasive problem of familial sexual abuse. The issue of false memory plagued me while reading her account, as she describes the resistance to her claims from her family, and even in her own mind. I too wanted her memories to be false, for her young handsome father to have never betrayed his daughter, despite the truth. One of Doubiago’s greatest accomplishments with this book is showing how complex memories can be, as she exposes her own process of remembering.

After finishing My Father's Love, I started thinking about the role of memoirs. Why is it important as women to tell our stories? And why, as women, is it important that we read each others' stories? Perhaps it is a cycle, and through telling and listening, reading and writing, a memoir becomes complete.

Written by: Claire Burrows, December 30th 2009

April and Oliver

admin — Sat, 01 Aug 2009 17:17:00 +0000

By Tess Callahan

Grand Central Publishing

Tess Callahan’s debut novel, April and Oliver, begins with the death of April’s beloved younger brother, Buddy, in a car accident on a snowy winter afternoon. As Buddy takes his last breaths, he recalls a childhood memory of being lost in the woods with April and her friend, Oliver, and the reassurance of holding both of their hands. This brief prologue, like the next 300-plus pages of this novel, is beautifully rendered and sets the tone for the rest of the book.

In many ways, April and Oliver is a novel about loss. Both April and Oliver (who has recently returned to his home town with the woman he plans to marry after a long absence) have lost someone they cared for deeply in Buddy. And April’s grief in particular permeates the whole book.

In addition to losing Buddy, these former childhood friends have also lost significant parts of themselves now that they are adults. While April bears the scars of the sexual abuse she experienced as a teen and continues to choose older men who mistreat her, Oliver has given up the music he felt passionate about in his youth for a more practical career in law. April, wracked by shame, would prefer to forget the past, while Oliver insists on digging into it in order to discover the truth about what he considers to be some important events. During this process, these two complex characters must each confront their long-held feelings for one another. And over the course of the book they must decide what these feelings mean and whether they should be acted upon.

Tess Callahan is a talented writer whose prose is precise, evocative and, at times, simply exquisite. She paints vivid characters and has a particular gift for creating compelling scenes. Her talent falters a little, however, when it comes giving the reader an entirely satisfying story. In one instance, a key scene between April and an abusive boyfriend is played almost entirely off-camera. And the boyfriend is subsequently conveniently (and a little unconvincingly) disposed of, abruptly ending this story thread. In addition, it was also hard not to feel a little cheated by the novel’s climactic scene, which seemed a little heavy-handed. Still, I have to admit that I was left guessing about how the story would conclude until the very end.

Despite its flaws, April and Oliver is an extremely pleasurable read since Callahan weaves such shimmering and delightful prose, and explores some compelling and universal themes. Callahan is clearly a novelist who has much to offer. I look forward to her next book.

Written by: Elaine Beale, August 1st 2009

Sex Work and the City: The Social Geography of Health and Safety in Tijuana, Mexico

admin — Sun, 31 May 2009 23:27:00 +0000

By Yasmina Katsulis

University of Texas Press

Most studies of prostitution still focus on the supply side: the women and girls, the boys and men, and the transgender and transsexual people who toil sexually to survive, meet temporary needs, and thrive. An increasing number of studies focus on the demand side: the direct consumers and the globalizing forces that bring them together. Carved down from what was probably a fine Ph.D. dissertation, and founded upon eighteen months of ethnographic fieldwork that she conducted in Tijuana, Mexico, Yasmina Katsulis’s lively and accessible Sex Work and the City does one better. In only eight chapters and 174 pages, interspersed with field-note entries and arresting photos—for example, a family united in picnic but separated by a fence—she also explores the physicians who under- and over-diagnose STDs, the policemen who extort sexual favors, and the many agents who facilitate and profit from the sexual labor of others.

Ethnographic, archival, and other data show that Tijuana’s sex industry is fed by gringo and Mexican male migrant laborers who come and go—the causes and symptoms of staggering degrees of human migration and mobility. I appreciate her caveat about the necessity of squarely confronting centuries-old stigmas of prostitution. Throughout the book, she opposes an epidemiology and popular culture that systematically misrepresents by underestimating the HIV and STD transmissive risks of sex in, or on the way to, marriage. Katsulis demonstrates not just why, but literally how, prostitution’s labor forms and venues structure health and social risks.

She also explores the motivations for entering into, and the various outcomes of sexual labor by contrasting legal, registered sex work with that which is informal and illegal. Her analysis of the Tijuana Regulatory Model of policing and health inspection of The Body Prostitute highlights police extortion and the health and social hierarchies of strip clubs, brothels, alleyways, massage parlors, beaches, and forlorn places. The social and economic contradictions in Tijuana of skin color, gender identity, language, socioeconomic class, and ethnicity produce differing degrees of health, social, and legal hazard.

Apart from a few minor quibbles (her use of the illogical term “HIV/AIDS infection,” the sometimes interchangeable use of “sex workers” and “prostitutes”), Katsulis neglects to point out that pimping is the world’s oldest profession, not prostitution. Some of her claims—for example, regarding the general absence of pimping in Tijuana—are insufficiently grounded in historical, sociological, and ethnographic studies by Schifter, Wardlow, Kulick, Schoepf, Leonard, White, and me. I enjoyed her remarks about sexual praxis, but there was surprisingly little discussion of the tensions between sexual positionality and sexual and gender identity. Her take on “the prostitution debates” in feminism is only three pages in length. She devotes one sentence to what she takes to be one side of the ledger—“Some feminists argue that legalization of sex work serves to normalize and institutionalize the sexual exploitation of women”—which really irked me. The ensuing discussion morphs quickly into yet another Straw Woman argument about “western White feminists.” Katsulis offered her key informants free HIVab tests, but fails to mention IRB concerns and the availability of trained counselors, confirmatory assays, and antiretroviral or other therapies. Finally, the absence of a discussion of religion beyond cultural codes of macho and marianismo precludes her from analyzing a profoundly good example of a marriage:prostitution dialectic par excellence.

These criticisms aside, Katsulis has contributed a polished, well-written, vibrant, and much-needed book. I hope the university press issues a cheaper paperback edition (lower than the $50 hardcover price) so that it may be used in courses in anthropology, gender studies, and public health.

Written by: Lawrence James Hammar, Ph.D., May 31st 2009

Yes Means Yes!: Visions of Female Sexual Power and A World Without Rape

admin — Mon, 16 Feb 2009 11:29:00 +0000

Edited by Jaclyn Friedman, Jessica Valenti

Seal Press

The Apostate: My initial reaction when I heard about the Yes Means Yes! anthology was mixed. It seemed that the problem of rape was being used for a catchy slogan's sake (the catchy slogan being a play on the anti-rape "no means no" rule), and not because it made any real sense. I wasn't sure where you could go with that—connecting sexuality with rape culture in a way that was meaningful for actual cultural change and impact on women's lives.

Professor What If: The introduction notes that the book intends to offer “a frank and in-depth conversation about forward-thinking ways to battle-rape culture,” and the book truly does contain many frank, in-depth conversations that formulate ways to rethink not only preventing rape, but also re-shaping the way we approach sex and sexuality. While the reasons behind the book are laudable, I find the claim that valuing female sexual pleasure will stop rape the book puts forward a bit too simplistic. Although the book nods to the complex socio-cultural factors that perpetuate rape culture, it stops short of really grappling with how rape is a by-product of our patriarchal, militarized, commodified world. I do think this is a very important book that makes crucial contributions to re-thinking sexuality, but it is only part of a much needed conversation we need to have—both in books and in blogs—about eradicating rape culture.

The Apostate: I think rape culture should have been expounded upon more. I don't think people understand the difference between rape and rape culture, and that wasn't really addressed, which gave rise to some of the confusion around why anyone thought Yes Means Yes! would stop rape—the writers didn't think it would! They just want to dismantle rape culture, which is a bigger and more amorphous thing than the specific crime of rape, even if rape takes place within the context of rape culture.

Professor What If: I was impressed with the broad coverage of the book and the diversity of voices. I especially appreciated those pieces that emphasized anti-rape activism must include teaching men not to rape and helping men to recognize rape. Jill Filipovic’s piece, for example, was very effective in examining the social-cultural contexts of rape culture and the need to include men in anti-rape activism and education. I also liked the inclusion of queer, male, fat, sex work, and BDSM perspectives.

The Apostate: My favorite essay was Thomas MacAuley Millar’s. It really dismantled the perceptions of sex as something that is done to you, as a woman, rather than something you (enthusiastically) participate in. That is not a concept enough people understand; and although I get it, I have never seen it articulated so well as Millar did. His essay was beautifully written, cogent, with a great metaphor about sex as music. The commodity model of sex is one of the biggest hurdles women face, if they act like they are free to pursue their pleasure. People don't think their pleasure is really part of the picture at all, since women are the object, not the subject. And another thing: I had never realized how "no means no" continues to frame the sex as between a predator and prey, as Julia Serano defined the terms.

Professor What If: Many of the authors argued against the 'power over' dynamic that shapes our thinking about sexuality by emphasizing mutual consent, doing away with the competition model of sex, ensuring certain partners (namely women) are not objectified/dehumanized, etc. I think this re-thinking of the power dynamics in relation to sex/sexuality are crucial. However, they must also be addressed in relation to those politics of domination that shape our society—patriarchy, capitalism, sexism, racism. Also, I wonder about the subtitle “visions of female sexual power.” Do we really want to rethink sexuality in terms of power? Doesn’t this go against the mutual consent/pleasure model the book upholds?

The Apostate: The emphasis on sexual assault—and personal stories of pain and damage around that—got overwhelming in the second half of the book. The joy of enthusiastically consenting sex got lost in there. I think that focusing on how rape and sexual assault affect women's lives is very important, especially as so much of this reality is not captured in statistics or on the news, but perhaps sex as pain should not have predominated quite as much.

Professor What If: I think an analysis of rape in same-sex or non-heterosexual relationships is missing. In keeping with this notion, the book frames women as rape victims, not covering boys and men as also victims/survivors of rape. For example, as rape within systems like the Catholic Church and public schools is prevalent, this seems a key omission. How could the rape culture condoned by religious establishments or the military be addressed via the “yes means yes” paradigm? In ways, the book leaves out the institutionalized aspect of rape and focuses on “individual rape scripts.” In so doing, it doesn’t fully examine those social structures and institutions that shape sexuality and perpetuate rape culture—the family, the church, the law, the military, etc.

The Apostate: The overall feel I got from the book was very "alternative." It was very citified, and very margins-of-society, written by people we don't hear from on a daily basis in mainstream coverage. Those voices are all the more crucial for being so marginalized, and also because it is on the margins of society that the worst abuses happen. That said, I think it lacked a certain degree of balance. I did think it covered a wide range of issues and perspectives—except for married, heterosexual, middle class sexuality and the sexuality of older people. The only reason I would have liked to see that balance is to "normalize" these issues for the mainstream; so much of this sort of thing is hidden, under wraps, and allowing only the margins to speak out about it gives the deceptive impression that the problem of rape culture is not the problem of all women—which it most certainly is.

Professor What If: I love blogs and blogging, but books are not blogs. Rather than trying to make the two mediums the same, I think we should value each medium (print v. online) in its own right. I found the “hyper-link” structure did not translate well into print format. Further, in keeping with the “blog format” of the book, many of the pieces were written in the less formal, talky style of blogs. Javacia Harris, for example, writes “Don’t get me wrong. I’m certainly not anti-sexy—I’ve been to my fair share of striptease aerobics classes.” This style seems too light for the aims outlined in the introduction and this style allows comments like these to be tossed out with no analysis of the wider cultural contexts that defines normative notions of “sexy” and results in the very existence of striptease aerobics classes in the first place.

Too often the attitude that framed the arguments in the book is that any choice is ok as long as you know why you’re making it. This “sexual empowering choices model” is too simplistic. This is partly due to choosing a “blog style” for the book—a style that makes the book seem a bit too light given the subject matter at hand. While blogs work in a conversational, of-the-minute style, books allow for more thoughtful, hard-hitting, heavily researched writing. Both have their merits, but trying to write a book that functions like a blog makes me wonder about the purpose of going the print publication route; if one is not going to take advantage of a book format (and go into deeper analysis/research), stick to a blog (and indeed, the editors have a blog of the same name now up and running.

The Apostate: I also thought the hyperlink theme was a little redundant. I liked the idea to begin with, but I ended up skipping the lists at the end of each essay and just read linearly. I did glance at a few and thought they didn't always make sense; they tended to include a quarter of the book each time, after every essay. A thematic unity among pieces kind of fell into one's head automatically, so I didn't see the necessity of that. As for the authors being mostly bloggers and part of the blogging community, I do think that it was perhaps a little insular and self-referential. For someone outside that community of bloggers, perhaps a lot of this stuff would be very new—some context is missing and some pieces are more bewildering than others. But overall, the hyperlinking style is easily ignored and doesn't detract, even if it doesn't add.

Professor What If: Examining the many factors that contribute to rape culture is helpful in addressing the pervasiveness of sexual violence. However, I still found there was a bit too much emphasis on what females do/do not do. The introduction notes that often what is missing in analyses of rape is the rapist. This book, with its focus on "yes” and on female’s “owning” their sexuality also under-analyzes rapists, instead focusing on women’s need to familiarize themselves with “enthusiastic consent.” In a strange way, the book thus keeps the onus of changing rape culture squarely on women’s shoulders. Many of the solutions seem a bit too individualized—as if becoming sexually empowered and educated will be enough to stop rape (or at least stop it from happening to oneself). While many of the texts offer useful, concrete suggestions to move towards a world without rape, I think more analysis of how the politics of domination upheld within patriarchy, capitalism, and militarism (all which profoundly shape our world) was needed. Also, we need to examine how intertwined violence and sexuality are in contemporary society—violence is so pervasive that it cannot be extracted from sex/sexuality. All of the enthusiastic “yes’s” in the world won’t change this.

The Apostate: A lot of issues being talked about are really not discussed in our society and they need to be. And I was totally won over by the thesis of the book—that a woman's right and enthusiastic consent to sex were central to how sex and sexual violence are perceived. I’m really glad to see a somewhat mainstream book about women's experiences and hopes for a positive, enthusiastic, feminist ideal that also includes women as sexual creatures: horny, lusty, and slutty. Jaclyn Friedman's essay about overt sexuality really spoke to me on that front.

Professor What If: The book is a really good first step towards re-thinking rape culture. Like Valenti’s other books, it will speak to many young feminists. However, being the theory-loving academic that I am, I found myself writing in the margins comments such as, “But where is the theory?” For that reason, I really liked Lee Jacobs Riggs account of our “sex negative” culture and the ways she also addressed the prisons/the criminal legal system and other oppressive systems. I would have liked more hard-hitting pieces like the ones by Coco Fusco and Miriam Zoila Perez (which were my favorites). Too often elsewhere, I came across the word “probably” being used to assess information. In the end, I also found the attack on second-wavers off-putting. Why does this have to be one of the defining characteristics of third wave texts? We need to get over the feminist blame game. No one “wave” has all the answers, and I think sometimes third wave feminism fails to address it’s own shortcomings.

Written by: The Apostate, Professor What If, February 16th 2009

If I Am Missing or Dead: A Sister's Story of Love, Murder, and Liberation

admin — Fri, 13 Jun 2008 13:58:00 +0000

By Janine Latus

Simon & Schuster

Janine Latus’ bestselling memoir, If I Am Missing or Dead, is remarkable in many ways. Latus took her training as a journalist and freelance writer and transformed a painful story of growing up with an emotionally abusive father and numerous incidents of sexualized violence and domestic abuse into an adamant account of conflict and resistance in a context of victimization and violence against women.

The memoir revolves around Latus’ own struggle to break out of a series of abusive relationships, as well as the story of Latus’ sister, Amy, who faced many of the same problems in her relationships with men, and was eventually murdered by her boyfriend. The title of the book repeats a line in a letter Amy taped to a drawer in her office desk only a few weeks before she went missing, and her body was later found buried at a building site-a letter that informs those looking for her that Amy suspected her boyfriend of being capable of killing her. It represents the deeply disturbing conflict that runs through both sisters’ stories: the fact that both women were acutely aware of their victimization in their relationships with men, and the ultimate danger they were in, but found themselves trapped in a toxic mix of abuse, shattered self-worth, and an undying hope to finally find love and respect from the men in their lives.

Latus does not shy away from exposing this conflict, and at the same time, her journalistic stance enables her to describe it without commenting, without (self-)blaming. This very aspect is the key strength of the book. It allows the reader to empathize, identify with the Latus sisters, or see themselves in the book, without being drawn into the all too familiar compulsion to blame women for choosing the wrong men and staying with them even after the relationship turns abusive.

The author and her sister did not choose. Instead, they were surrounded by men who grew up learning that abusive behaviour is acceptable and caught in a life that taught them that men are driven by uncontrollable urges to take what they want-even if that means emotionally, physically, or sexually abusing their daughters, girlfriends, or wives.

Written by: Annette Przygoda, June 13th 2008

Freeing Tammy: Women, Drugs, and Incarceration

admin — Tue, 04 Sep 2007 18:57:00 +0000

By Jody Raphael

University Press of New England

Meet Tammara Johnson, an ex-19 year heroin addict, ex-prisoner and now a job development trainer for an in-patient drug treatment program. Freeing Tammy is the final book of a trilogy that discusses women, poverty and violence. Raphael brings to light the circumstances that plague women in poor communities, especially black women, for survival within their community - a survival that reaches all realms of the existence of women combating abusive relationships, childhood sexual abuse and drugs.

A correlation of these factors is presented within the existence of Tammy’s life. We are taken on a journey beginning with her making progress to kick her heroin addiction to going to jail for holding drugs within her home for a drug dealer. While in prison, Tammy’s son, Terrance, is left behind to live with his aunt and struggle with the realization that his mother is in jail and his father is an alcoholic that can’t provide the parental involvement he needs.

Freeing Tammy not only effectively revolves around Tammy’s incarceration experience, but shows the reader the inner working of our prison system. Raphael provides in-depth research, interviews and statistical data regarding women in prison and its effects on their self-esteem and dignity as a woman and a human being. A passage in the book reflects this point: “In prison the effects of being stripped of your dignity and your self-esteem have a long lasting effect. It has an effect that is so damaging that I don’t even think that therapy can take it away.” She opened the door of the reader’s mind to the dehumanization, humiliation and disregard of a woman’s identity in prison.

I was expecting the book to be solely about Tammy, but was thrown off by the research data, yet welcomed the opportunity to learn about our criminal justice system and the subconscious behavior exhibited by authority to degrade and belittle a female criminal. Jody Raphael created an exciting mixture of the data, which was easy to read and thoroughly pleasing.

Written by: LaToya Rogers, September 4th 2007

Tazewell’s Favorite Eccentric #4

admin — Tue, 17 Jul 2007 00:20:00 +0000

By Sarah Arr!

This zine, published in April of 2006, is tiny but powerfully personal. It has 30 pages, and, at only 5½ by 4¼ inches, it’s small enough to fit in a pocket for on-the-go reading.

On the very first page, zinester Sarah Arr! writes, “this issue is a lot more personal than things I’ve previously written,” and adds that she will not give copies to co-workers and casual friends. She observes that her life is not all misery and wretchedness, that she has fun every day and reminds us, “like most perzines, this is an outlet.”

Sarah’s first story, in which she pays homage to “bargaining with a real, live, flesh and blood human,” is about the flea markets in her hometown. The topics of the next few pages include the frustration of not having the right words, envy of thin women, drifting away from friends, being attracted to a guy while loving her girlfriend and a parent’s illness as a reminder of her own mortality.

In the middle of the zine the issues get even more intimate, and the label on page 15 reads, “This may be TRIGGERING.” She writes about her mom’s drug addiction, which led to Sarah being sexually abused as a little girl. After sharing what she calls “possibly the hardest thing that I’ve ever written,” she then tells of her younger brother’s death as a child.

While these issues are in no way happy or upbeat, Sarah tells her distressing stories with honesty and clarity. I appreciate that she is struggling to deal with her past and trying to heal by writing about the painful events. The insight Sarah has given into her harrowing experiences will help me behave more sympathetically towards people I know who have dealt with similar occurrences in their lives.

While this zine is not exactly entertaining, it is thought provoking and well-written. Words can be powerful weapons in the struggle for survival. As Sarah says about the sexual abuse that she experienced: “I write about it because that makes it real. Something that I can understand in words that happened. I can wrap my mind and my mouth around those words and arm myself like a soldier. I can wrap them up into ribbons to give other women so that they know that they’re not alone. That you’ve already lived through it once. We are stronger than the past.”

Written by: Chantel C. Guidry, July 16th 2007

Girls in Trouble with the Law

admin — Wed, 16 May 2007 00:00:00 +0000

By Laurie Schaffner

Rutgers University Press

“I was like four or six when my babysitter molested me... I would just freeze... Like I thought if I froze it would not have happened.”

This 16-year-old girl’s memory is an all too familiar one for Laurie Schaffner. Her multi-year, qualitative study of girls involved in the juvenile corrections system, Girls in Trouble with the Law, quickly revealed that virtually all of the girls interviewed had witnessed or experienced some form of violence, abuse, or neglect—trauma that can be directly linked to girls’ later lawbreaking, Schaffner argues.

Employing a self-described “feminist sociology,” Schaffner seeks to give voice to a largely-invisible population of detained girls, interspersing their accounts of the abuse in their lives and experiences within the legal system with vastly informative analysis on the various processes at work in these girls’ lives. Schaffner’s interviewees, like all American girls and women, were affected by a hyper-sexualized, consumerist culture thriving on the eroticization of young women. Often living in “empty families” where abuse and neglect were commonplace, the girls also dealt variously with poverty, racism, sexism, homophobia and a lack of quality education and emotional support.

Scaffner also examines the rise in violent crime among girls, an inevitable outcome of living in violent environments according to the girls in the study, but often characterized by others as a violation of conventional norms of femininity. “A dramatic amount of resistance, rebellion, and rage had developed among girls in trouble,” Schaffner writes, concluding that the violence the young women perpetrated was a type of “power of the powerless.”

The immense amount of sadness in these girls’ lives was overwhelming. They had no time, energy or resources for grieving after they had been raped, witnessed the beating of a mother or lost custody of their child. Many of them had much-older boyfriends, were forced to parent their own parents, experienced sexual harassment at school and in their communities and echoed a culturally-constructed attitude of misogyny toward other girls.

What at first glance seemed to be a dense, academic work was actually very readable, incorporating detained girls’ artwork and poetry with Schaffner’s convincing arguments on behalf of troubled young women. Schaffner’s work is honest and focused, and immensely enlightening to those who are not daily faced with the same struggles as these girls on the margins.

Written by: Anne Wilmoth, May 15th 2007

Grit and Tender Membrane

admin — Mon, 05 Mar 2007 18:12:00 +0000

By Samantha Barrow

Plan B Pres

Both a teacher and an inspiration to women worldwide, Barrow received a Leeway grant to tour via motorcycle, tell her stories and hold workshops for other female survivors of sexual abuse. She advocates poetry as a way to express difficult moments, get her metaphorical demons out and as a means of catharsis and rebirth. She started writing because she "wanted to be understood." In Grit and Tender Membrane, it seems poetry was a platform where she could take painful moments and craft them into a form of expression to transcend her not-so-perfect past.

In her autobiographical book, Barrow crafts her words honestly, unabashedly, and without shame. Her voice is that of a strong woman, the victim of a sex crime and an individual using her words as sharp, powerful insights into defining life moments. Grit and Tender Membrane weaves painful tales of molestation with lighthearted tales of hilarity. Barrow intertwines her stories together flawlessly waffling from prose to poetry, near diary entries and passages that almost seem like letters. Her writings, some dated, mark her thoughts as she passes through different states: California, Arizona, Texas, Louisiana, Georgia and Mississippi among others.

Barrow demonstrates her keen sense of observation of others and herself. Her voice is that of a woman who has the ability to make the intangible become tangible right before our very eyes. Barrow's book maintains the idea of hope despite painful memories, a kind of hope that can vanquish former tribulations and make way for a new, bright future. Truly inspiring, Grit and Tender Membrane epitomizes a metamorphosis, an example of light born from darkness.

Written by: Lauren Begnaud, March 5th 2007