sexual politics

Queer Ecologies: Sex, Nature, Politics, Desire

andrea — Wed, 05 Jan 2011 08:00:00 +0000

Edited by Bruce Erickson, Catriona Mortimer-Sandilands

Queer Ecologies: Sex, Nature, Politics, Desire explores the intersections of queer studies and environmental studies and aims to trouble dominant discourses of nature and sexuality. The authors in this collection argue that we should adopt a queer ecological perspective, a “transgressive and historically relevant critique of dominant pairings of nature and environment with heteronormativity and homophobia.” Drawing on science studies, environmental history, queer geography, ecocriticism, critical race theory, cultural studies, landscape ecology, and LGBTQ theory, this interdisciplinary anthology presents the various possibilities for “queering ecology and greening queer politics.”

What do queer ecologies and greener queer politics look like? To answer this question, the essays use various theoretical and methodological strategies to explore how understandings of nature shape discourses of sexuality and how understandings of sex and reproduction shape perceptions and uses of the environment.

The chapters delve into topics as diverse as animal sexuality, hermaphrodite frogs, eco-porn, biophilia, lesbian rural communities, pollution and overpopulation, and penguins as environmental icons. Several themes weave throughout the entire collection, including critical analyses of homophobic and racist evolutionary narratives and the ways that particular spaces become imbued with sexual meanings. Overall, Queer Ecologies critiques the heteronormative, racist, nationalist, and colonialist narratives that structure popular environmentalist discourses.

The volume approaches these issues through three sections. In the first part, "Against Nature? Queer Sex, Queer Animality," the authors examine how sexual natures are produced through dichotomies such as animal/human and nature/culture. These essays argue that the question is not whether queer acts are “unnatural,” but rather how definitions of nature and culture (and the boundaries between them) are produced and mobilized.

The second section of the book, "Green, Pink, and Public: Queering Environmental Politics," explores the intersections of sexuality and nature as sites of engaged political action. These contributions critique the heteronormativity and whiteness of environmental politics and offer possibilities for radical ecologies and sexual environmental justice.

The final part of the book, "Desiring Nature: Queer Attachments," speaks to the pleasures and losses of engaging with the “more than human” world. The authors in this section explore the links between the regulation of sexuality and the destruction of non-human life. One of the most profound essays in the collection is by editor Catriona Mortimer-Sandilands, who writes on the subject of mourning in queer writing about nature. Drawing on a politicized melancholic sensibility from lesbian and gay experiences of AIDS, she attempts a queer re-thinking of environmental destruction, arguing that few, if any public rituals exist to express mourning over the loss of the environment.

Overall, this collection moves forward conversations in queer and environmental literatures, and makes important connections between discourses of sexuality and nature that offer promising possibilities for productive political coalitions and more critical theories. While the authors are careful to note the materiality of bodies and spaces, the volume relies predominantly on textual analysis. The authors examine familiar cultural texts such as mainstream movies like Brokeback Mountain and Happy Feet, popular documentaries like An Inconvenient Truth, and the poetry of Adrienne Rich and Minnie Bruce Pratt.

Readers will come away from Queer Ecologies: Sex, Nature, Politics, Desire with a complex understanding of the dangerous assumptions that shape environmental discourses, as well as the importance of environmental considerations to queer theorizing and movement building. The queer ecological framework offered in this collection has valuable insights for readers across a broad spectrum of interests.

Written by: Traci Yoder, January 5th 2011

Infectious Ideas: U.S. Political Responses to the AIDS Crisis

admin — Wed, 10 Feb 2010 01:00:00 +0000

By Jennifer Brier

The University of North Carolina Press

From the early appearance of AIDS as deviant in conservative America in the early 1980s to a full blown global battle in the 2000s, Infectious Ideas charts the activism behind the disease and how it never once wasn’t a political problem. What readers will learn with this book is that knowledge of the disease evolved alongside activist work. The origin, treatment, and likely victims of AIDS were all unknown in the early ‘80s when gay men and Haitian immigrants began to contract HIV. As a result societal scapegoating occurred and the government all but ignored the problem. Despite this, Brier shows how gay men unified to change habits, start dialogues about safe sex, and change public health policy.

With little or no experience in the health field, many early activist groups looked to the gay liberation movement of the 1970s for inspiration. As a result, racial and class discrepancies appeared as activist researchers began to realize that the highest at-risk groups were poor men of color who didn’t necessarily identify with the gay and lesbian community. San Fransisco activists worked to overcome what Brier calls “imperialism of expertise” by changing their campaigns to appeal to Latino and Black communities. Altering their way of thinking of how AIDS affects people proved vital for the moment and future efforts of global activists.

While modifying their approaches, American activists were also fighting another battle. Until the late 1980s they were essentially doing what the federal government should have been doing: informing people, promoting healthy prevention habits and working towards a treatment. However, ideological differences with the Reagan administration kept them from gaining governmental support. Instead of listening to activists with four years experience fighting the disease, the government was persuaded by internal politicians who didn’t condone condoms but rather (shockingly) chastity, fidelity and sex within marriage.

Brier positively notes that the lack of governmental support allowed for other groups to grow in more innovative arenas. She credits the Ford Foundation with raising awareness that AIDS was not simply a disease affecting gay and immigrants populations, but one that affected impoverished women in developing countries. During the late 1980s and early 1990s, the Ford Foundation focused on efforts in Brazil, Haiti, Thailand and Africa. They maintained a clear mission to “make woman’s rights human rights”. Three of the four countries that received the most funding saw significant drops in the number of new cases of AIDS.

The foundation's work strengthened the relationship between the Northern, developed world and the Southern, impoverished one. It also showed that attention to women’s rights, fighting poverty, and facing health issues overall is the most effective approach to prevent the spread of AIDS. As research continued to find medication to treat the disease, activists in the United States began to fight large pharmaceutical companies for affordable access to treatment, most notably through the work of ACT UP. Eventually disbanding due to internal problems, the group had five short but potent years which completely changed the U.S. response to drug testing and availability of medication.

Brier provides a unique account of the initial social response to AIDS in the 1980s and how it often preceded any political answers—a trend that continued into the early 1990s and today. Her book shows how we have arrived to where we are today in the fight against AIDS and what we can learn from the battles of the past.

Written by: Sara Custer, February 9th 2010

Southern Horrors: Women and the Politics of Rape and Lynching

admin — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 01:03:00 +0000

By Crystal N. Feimster

Harvard University Press

Southern Horrors explores the racial and sexual politics of the Post Civil War South predominantly through the political writings, speeches, and lives of two prominent female figures of the era. Feimster describes the period through Rebecca Latimer Felton, a white woman from the stately plantation class, educated and raised during antebellum south, and Ida B. Wells, a the daughter of former slaves, raised during the reconstruction era.

The author begins by describing the two women’s origins and how they came to rally around the issues of rape and women’s protection. “Protection”, in this context, is what would be, in modern times, included in the definition of women’s suffrage. It was a push for women to obtain the right to own property, have a bank account, inherit estates, and seek justice for wrongdoings or violence done against them. Both Felton and Wells were revolutionary in their own ways, challenging and breaking through the gender norms and expectations of the era. However, their experiences were staunchly different and in many ways based solely upon their racial identities.

I found it intriguing that Feimster chose to follow both a white woman and a black woman to describe the sexual and gender violence embedded in early twentieth century politics. The strategy definitely helped to paint the entire picture of the conflicting struggles of the Southern reconstruction. On the one hand, there was a push to preserve traditional Southern norms; on the other, pressure from the black community for inclusion and equality.

Both women were particularly fascinating, especially in their approaches and ideologies. Wells highlighted that the threat of rape and sexual assault was used as a tool of control, a justification of violence against women, and a way to maintain white male supremacist power. She was a radical voice and decades ahead of her time; her ideas were characteristic of activists of the women's movement in the United States in the 1960s. Felton started her political career by advocating for rights and protection for all women, regardless of race or class, but later completely switched her views to better appeal to the male audiences and supporters.

My initial reaction to Felton’s shift in politics was outrage. I was terribly disappointed, though not surprised, in her neglect and discarding of black women’s issues. I saw a parallel of second wave feminist activism and marginalization of women of color in Felton’s shift. Her lack of conviction was frustrating and left me wondering how history may have been altered if she had held true. The text also discusses more general ideas of Southern white masculinity, black masculinity, the convict leasing system, the politics behind lynching, and both women’s involvement in and victimization of lynching.

I admire and respect the way in which Feimster presented the two women. Her analysis of the events was critical and highly thought provoking, and I often found myself sitting lost in thought after finishing a chapter. While not a leisurely read, it was enjoyable overall. There was quite a bit of material to process and think about, and I often found myself wishing I had someone to discuss it with.

While it is relatively easy to find people to discuss the issues of race and class in the South in general terms, to really engage in the material presented proved more difficult. This book would be an excellent basis of discussion on early women’s movement and the intersections of race, class, and sexuality. It also presents many hidden histories of the South, which can be shocking and intense at times.

Written by: Liz Martin, February 7th 2010