Book Review
Pornography: Men
Possessing Women
By Andrea Dworkin
The Women’s Press, London, 1981
Buy
this book through Amazon
This “angry,
painful and astonishing book” – as the back cover calls it – was
the first salvo in the feminist wars on pornography. Dworkin spent
several years reading both mainstream pornography and more highbrow
literature, coming to the conclusion that porn is not only a weapon
in the war against women, but is also intrinsically violent. Her
ultimate argument is that porn doesn’t just incite violence towards
women, it is violence towards women.
Dworkin works her
way through a number of points.
- She
asserts that male power in all its guises finds ultimate expression
through pornography.
- She
says that men are brought up to be violent and forceful, so that
violence becomes an intrinsic part of male sexuality.
- She
says that the sexual use of women by men is considered to be a
given right.
- She
says that women are ultimately defined according to two stereotypes
– the woman whose suffering is arousing and provokes her own torment,
and the woman who brazenly invites and wants violence.
- She
says that men are trained to view women as objects and treat them
as such. Pornography reduces women to the status of objects.
- She
says that porn claims to reveal the “truth” about women – that
they are all basically sadistic whores. That “she wants it, they
all do.”
- She
says that porn documents a rape, and every time someone consumes
the porn they perpetrate that rape again. She says the models
in porn can never be willing participants.
- She
says that porn can ultimately induce men to rape, since porn leads
them to believe that all women are willing.
- She
says that women’s low sex drive is seen as inhibition of their
true nature, and is seen as justification for the use of force
in sex.
- She
says that porn really is “writing about whores”. She says the
depictions of force and debasement in porn actually reflect reality.
- She
says that pregnancy pornography is the final step in proving that
all women are whores, by showing that even a mother is a debased
slut. This proves men’s power.
Dworkin ultimately
concludes that when pornography no longer exists, women will be
free.
While I admire
the scholarship and thought that has gone into this book, I find
its premise to be erroneous. Andrea Dworkin goes to great lengths
to point out the way that male supremacy works, not only in the
sexual realm, but in wider society. Some of her points about male
supremacy appear to be quite valid, especially her discussion of
why raped women face such enormous difficulty in obtaining justice.
Nonetheless,
I cannot accept her claim that pornography is the root of all of
women’s problems. My own knowledge of sex, of pornography, and of
men, all deny that Dworkin’s assertions are true.
I find her
ultimate conclusion to be confused. Dworkin says that when pornography
– which reflects reality – no longer exists, society will be a better
place. Surely a better argument would be that when the monstrous
reality Dworkin describes is gone, pornography will be better.
Of course,
this isn’t the only problem I have with this book. One of the worst
stumbling blocks is its hypocrisy. Dworkin spends vast amounts of
this book proving that men believe that all women are whores; that
it is an intrinsic part of being female, and she rails against it
as one of the prime sources of female oppression. Unfortunately,
many of her arguments rely on similarly casting all men into the
mould of violent rapists. She spends an entire chapter outlining
how innocent boys grow into nasty, evil men, using the same kinds
of generalisations that she later professes to abhor.
I found this
depiction of men to be vaguely insulting, and I’m sure if I was
a man I’d be quite disgusted at being portrayed in such a way. I
know a lot of men, and they are all different. None of them are
violent rapists, and it seems ridiculous to assert that every man
is the same.
Of course,
at this point some mention should be made of Dworkin herself. Years
before she wrote this book, she had worked as a prostitute, and
survived a violent and horrific marriage. She has lived as a lesbian
for many years, and in 1987 wrote that any form of sexual intercourse
was a form of rape. It is obvious that these sorts of experiences
and radical beliefs lie behind Dworkin’s seeming hatred of men,
and explain why almost every reference to sex in this book is discussed
in terms of violence and rape.
While I can
understand that feminist discussion often involves generalisation
when talking about society, the abuse here extends to men as individuals.
The fact is, I simply cannot accept her warped view of men, nor
her bleak and dreary view of sex and sexuality.
In all her
discussions of sex, there is not one mention of love, nor intimacy,
nor or consensual pleasuring. Indeed, there is no acknowledgement
of female pleasure at all. Dworkin doesn’t deign to discuss how
women obtain pleasure during sex; perhaps she believes there is
none to be had. Or perhaps when one believes that all men are rapists,
and that all sex is rape, that female pleasure is ideological sacrilege.
But it is a vital oversight, because for many women, sex is a pleasurable,
enjoyable experience. In Dworkin’s world, sex is “done to” women.
In the real world, women “have” sex.
Another problem
is Dworkin’s assumption about the purpose of pornography. To her
it is an ideological document, and a weapon used to maintain the
power of men. Taken from this perspective, her desire to eradicate
porn seems justified: it is imperative to remove the weapon in order
to stop the war.
While this
seems a coherent argument, it is wrong. Mainstream pornography has
two ultimate aims: to sell well, and to produce orgasm. Porn is
created for the purpose of masturbation. Sexual fantasy normally
accompanies masturbation. The pornography exists to supplement the
fantasy.
Here we get
to a chicken-or-egg dilemma. Does porn reflect male sexual fantasy,
or does it inspire it? If we follow Dworkin’s reasoning, pornography
is reality; if men are constructing violent fantasies, it is only
due to existing reality, not due to the porn itself.
Of course,
the other problem with this line of thinking is that a masturbatory
fantasy is basically a narcissistic event. The individual will usually
imagine every desire being met, because sexual fantasies are about
self-satisfaction. If porn reflects male narcissistic fantasy, than
it would seem natural that the women depicted in porn exist to satisfy
men. This does not mean that men wish to continue believing in this
fantasy outside of the toilet.
I also take
exception to Dworkin’s assertion that the women featured in porn
are not willing participants. This is part of a wider problem with
this book, in which all women are cast as victims, with no control
over their destiny whatsoever. Any power they seem to possess is
dismissed as illusory; the women in porn may be well paid, and they
may think they were willing, but the men have tricked her
into it, and she’s really being subjugated without realising it.
Other reviewers
have pointed out that this attitude is frighteningly similar to
the 18th Century idea that women don’t know their own
minds. It seems almost ludicrous that radical feminism could reach
such a conclusion, but that seems to be the point. In a similar
vein, it has been argued that women who like mainstream porn have
simply been brainwashed into thinking it’s sexy, a fact for which
they should be ashamed, because the real woman would naturally
hate it.
This
book is now 21 years old, and it is showing its age. The pornography
of today exists in a vast number of forms. Some of it resembles the
porn described in painful detail in Dworkin’s book. But there’s also
a growing section of porn and erotica that reflects new sexual realities:
gay, lesbian, amateur and women’s erotica has expanded the sexual
milieu. Sex is being depicted in new ways. The “traditional” ideology
of mainstream porn is being steadily subverted. Unfortunately it would
appear that Dworkin and her fellow radical feminists are still opposed
to any kind of sexual depiction, which, I believe, is a backward step.
|