Perhaps it's a refreshing testament to free speech that I spend a lot of my professional life defending a book I don't even like. I spent 8 weeks writing a blog series about BDSM, feminism and pop culture precisely because I was tired of people using the popularity of said book as an excuse to come out with all manner of ill-informed speculations about people, especially women, who practice kink, or even just like to read books about it. Two years later, it seemed that wasn't enough and I ended up writing a whole book on the subject. The book I so often end up defending has become so ubiquitous in the pop culture discussion of BDSM that I refused to even name it in my work, less it become a distracting albatross, and just referred to it as that book (or that trilogy). You don't need to me to say the name. You know what I'm talking about. And you know that because it seems the blame for every ill of our culture -- domestic violence and rape and apologism/glamourisation of them, coercive relationships in and outside of the BDSM community, unrealistic expectations about sex, relationships that echo patriarchal structures too closely for our comfort -- gets laid at the feet of it.
So I was a bit disappointed to see this post, shared by the excellent Whores of Yore Twitter account, and then the Twitter conversation surrounding it, immediately linking that book to abuse within BDSM. Now, the post itself is an important and brave piece written by someone who got themselves out of a terribly abusive relationship and is reflecting on the awful treatment they put up with. It identifies correctly that adding a kinky relationship to the mix when domestic abuse is already so underreported muddies the waters even further, because there are already enough myths in the vanilla world that women "provoke" or "exaggerate" abuse, that if you've ever voluntarily asked your partner to hurt you, you stand very little chance of the police or a jury being able to distinguish between that and non-consensual abuse.
So I don't want to detract from the act of bravery inherent in 'Bee''s piece; she has shared what sounds like a deeply traumatic experience and hopefully, writing about it will be part of a healing process for her. It will also hopefully give others the strength to identify and reject kink in abusive relationships. And it does raise the complicated and at present unanswerable questions of how we can deal with abuse that flies under the radar of BDSM when our society remains crap enough at dealing with abuse in the vanilla mainstream, never mind in less respected or understood subcultures.
So I don't want to detract from the act of bravery inherent in 'Bee''s piece; she has shared what sounds like a deeply traumatic experience and hopefully, writing about it will be part of a healing process for her. It will also hopefully give others the strength to identify and reject kink in abusive relationships. And it does raise the complicated and at present unanswerable questions of how we can deal with abuse that flies under the radar of BDSM when our society remains crap enough at dealing with abuse in the vanilla mainstream, never mind in less respected or understood subcultures.
But, it feels like there is also a lot of context and illustration missing from the piece, and instead 'Bee' just goes straight for the far-too-simplistic option of "blame that book." She writes
I don't think it's unfair to summarise that the largely women following of FSOG were sold the excitement of being "owned" by a handsome Dominant lover.
Mmm...I do think it's unfair, actually, if you're making the unjustified leap from the popularity of a book to presuming you know anything about the readers' lifestyle choices. Whether that book sold women an unrealistic picture of BDSM, an unrealistic picture of (heterosexual) relationships per se, or just gave them some quality masturbation material, we'll never know - not without asking the millions of them who bought and enjoyed it. Pride and Prejudice romanticises submitting to a relationship with a man who has previously been rude and dismissive towards you, who has told you he's ashamed of you and your family, has deliberately meddled in your sister's relationship to destroy it, and will financially own and control you for the rest of your life. Yet that's considered a 'great romance', loved again by millions of women. Funnily enough, in a world where we treat women like adults, those who really believe in feminism tend to avoid policing women's reading choices because we don't assume that they are so stupid they can't distinguish between fiction and reality.
And as 'Bee' herself goes on to point out, she was no wide-eyed novice in the kink world anyway.
I've never classed myself as a submissive. Yes, I enjoyed my men to take control but I was no novice in the world of kink and BDSM. I was very comfortable with my sexuality and my wants and needs.
So why would she, and other Twitter commenters, insult other women by implying that they must all be naive enough to interpret that book as a how-to manual for BDSM relationships, or not recognise the problematic aspects of it? As someone who has spent way too much time answering back to the furious criticisms of women who accuse me of defending the glamourisation of abuse every time I even dare to suggest that book isn't the cause of all misogyny, I can tell you, plenty of women recognise the problems inherent in the relationship depicted (and I think it cannot be said enough that most of them have very little to do with kink).
Yes, it's important to talk about abuse in the kink community. Really important. I dedicate a whole chapter in my book to safe words, and examine the harrowing stories of women who had their safe words violated in BDSM exchanges. Both these articles I've linked to pre-date the publication of that book, as will - sadly - countless other people's stories of awful, shit-stain excuse for human beings who used kink as a cover for their abusive practices. Look at Jian Ghomeshi. His (alleged) abuses of partners under the guise of "But I'm kinky!!" date back to a decade before anyone had even heard the name C*******n G**y. But you know what effect that book had on conversations about abuse within kink? It gave them a huge signal boost. It gave me a chance to publicise them, first in the Thinking Kink blog series, then in my book about it. It resulted in someone actually coming forward on my blog post about safe words to comment that my piece had helped them realised that their experience of having their safe word violated was abuse, and was not their fault. That book also helped a lot of people simply come out as kinky, an act of enablement whose importance cannot be underestimated in a world where there is still so much shame and mental violence enacted upon those who deviate from sexual norms. Lord knows that book has given me a safe, relatively unthreatening shorthand to mention when vanilla folk ask me what I write about. Hey, I could even tell my mum I'd been to a BDSM club just by saying, "You know F***y S****s? It's that sort of place," and she barely batted an eyelid (my mum is pretty unflappable anyway, but you see my point.) And I do feel like a lot of the reason it gets so much shit flung at it when there are way heavier, darker depictions of kink in pop culture that get a pass is because at its core, it's just a trashy novel.
As I wrote in my review of the film last year:
I can’t help but feel that some of the outrage over [that book] is both selective and elitist. [That book] faces the same kind of criticism that’s lobbed at romance in general: “Oh, look at those uneducated women and their trashy reads! Bless them for not knowing that classier books exist!” I wonder if many critics care less about misrepresentations of kink in the book and more about saving the undiscerning masses from themselves.Because why else would people say things like this about it
@XO_BB_XO @WhoresofYore FSOG takes a relationship EXACTLY LIKE THIS but sells it as romance. It is dangerous.— Merry Fran-mas (@LollyWheeks) December 21, 2016
while ignoring, say, Secretary, a film often hailed as a much better representation of kink, yet which shows a boss harassing and intimidating a vulnerable subordinate, not using safewords, and not negotiating a kink scene or getting consent beforehand? Or The Story of O, in which a young woman submits to gangbangs, anal stretching, labia piercing, and iron manacles being permanently welded to her body, just out of love for her partner who abandons her at a palace for various anonymous men to abuse her? Both have been around a lot longer and have many fans in the kinky world. They have not been accused of romanticising abuse, or showing people how to do kink "wrong," even though both have massively problematic areas in which consent, respect or level playing field on which the woman makes the decision to submit are not at all clear.
So the outrage aimed at that book feels very arbitrary, and ill-reserached. It also implies we consider some people too uneducated or easily led to distinguish between fiction and real-life (and I can't help but feel there are strong links there to some serious snobbery regarding social class and level of education). It's also overly simplistic; that book is not without merit. It doesn't get everything about kink wrong. Yes, it bears about as much resemblance to real BDSM as the movie Whip It does to real roller derby (as a derby skater I can confirm that movie is SO inaccurate it's not even funny), but funnily enough no one turns up to a roller derby bout thinking they can give a fellow player a bloody nose just because they saw it done to Drew Barrymore on DVD. The point is, something can be a signpost to something you're interested in (which chances are, you were already interested in before you came across this particular book/film/whatever) without being taken as a rulebook. Thinking women incapable of making the distinction is as patronising as the narratives that fail to distinguish between independent sex workers and trafficked women, that presume female sexuality is naturally softer, gentler and more moral and that therefore women could never like nasty filthy things like porn or BDSM (both my personal experiences and my research indicate a giant HA! to that notion). And you know what those narratives run dangerously close to reinforcing? Every sexist trope out there about women being stupid, weak and incapable of autonomy. I don't doubt that anyone wanting to protect women from abuse in BDSM considers themselves a feminist; but this ain't the way to further female freedom.
Wanting to push the conversation about BDSM and abuse is admirable. It should be happening. I'm pleased to report that I've never experienced violations of consent from any of my BDSM play partners (all of whom have been cis men and have unfailingly respected safe words, hard limits, the need for prior negotiation, communication, active ongoing consent and the need for aftercare), but that doesn't mean I haven't experienced kinksters who bring shitty sexism and misogyny into the scene. I write in my book about being touched without my consent on three different occasions, one by the event organiser who had written the goddamn rules which said "no touching without consent" stuck to the wall of the bar. I write about the self-proclaimed 'misogynist' who thought he was so hilarious and edgy by constantly referring to women as 'cunts' in person and in his online profile, excused his behaviour on the grounds that "I'm a sadist," and interrupted a rope scene to shout "kick her in cunt!" about the woman being tied up. I write about seeing people jumping to criticise or ostracise the person who complained about someone caning her feet without consent while she was suspended at a play party. As Cliff Pervocracy writes "The kink community talks big about consent, but they also talk big about not having "drama." It's a theme that would sadly recur across my research for Thinking Kink. But the fact it was being talked about, and there was pushback against it, was enough to give me hope.
And part of the reason those conversations can happen is that book. Remember that next time you're tempted to throw the baby out with the bathwater. Books don't cause abuse any more than short skirts cause rape. Don't let abusers off the hook by not focusing on their actions and instead shaming women for their reading choices. Rather, as these tweeter points out, remember the real enemies:
@XO_BB_XO @LollyWheeks @IndigoAugust the next president thinks it's ok to grab women by the pussy without their permission, now that's harm.— R2D2awillow (@rawillow2202) December 21, 2016
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