Category: Uncategorized

By Clara Oxley and Hannah Speed

On 26 May 2022 students on the MSc Gender History at the University of Glasgow were treated to a wide-ranging discussion and workshop with Jocelyn Olcott, Professor of History, International Comparative Studies, and Gender, Sexuality and Feminist Studies at Duke University. The workshop followed on from a lecture that Professor Olcott had hosted the day before, ‘Sexing Development: South-based Women’s Networks and the Politics of Feminism after 1975.’ The workshop’s aim was to examine the methods, sources and contexts of transnational and global historical study, to allow us to think about how we might apply such approaches to our own research. The fifteen or so of us in attendance created a cosy and conversational atmosphere within which we could discuss transnationalism on both a broad and personal level, particularly as we went around the room, sharing our names and our research interests. The diverse range of academic specialisms from which we all came, such as history, language and translation, music, education and literature, demonstrated from the beginning the interdisciplinary nature of transnationalism, as well as the importance the field holds in allowing us to view our own research in a new light.

Professor Olcott began the seminar by asking us to think about what we thought transnationalism meant. A range of answers cropped up, but the one we all agreed upon was the idea that transnational study meant the study of connections: connections between places, across places, across political boundaries (although without disregarding them altogether). We discussed the most ‘obvious’ cases of connections that transcend ostensible boundaries, such as organisations and businesses which proliferate across borders, as well as the likes of the internet and how the digital age could be considered a transnational movement in itself, allowing people across the globe to connect on unprecedented levels. Yet there were also less obvious examples, such as the spread of music genres, jobs and commodities. Indeed, Professor Olcott demonstrated that transnational study is unique in the way it allows researchers to look at case studies both synchronically and diachronically. She drew upon a useful analogy for understanding such phenomena, first used by Cindi Katz to describe the links between place, time and political differences. This was the idea that transnational study was like topography, and that discovering transnational connections was similar to following the contour-lines of a map, connecting ideas and themes across the borders of would-be obstacles in our research.

An interesting point that was mentioned was the idea that transnationalism did not even have to be about multiple countries or nations, but could be applied to the study of just one nation. An example of this that was drawn upon was the issue of nuclear politics and weaponry: a single nation may have access to such power, but this access has global implications. In order to do this, we should attend to the specificity of time and place, while at the same time linking evident tendencies and similarities across such physical and temporal borders, following the flow of ideas—in short, transcending the traditional boundaries which we normally use in our research. One point that Professor Olcott was quick to point out, however, was that we should avoid accidentally reducing transnationalism to a comparative study, something which maintains and strengthens the very boundaries of nation, politics and people which transnationalism strives to overcome.

We then turned to the practicalities of transnational research. The discussion centred around one of the key issues of transnational history: scope and coverage. Many transnational projects are, by definition, projects with a large geographic scope. Historians always want to ensure that we give accurate context and factual detail and avoid making sweeping generalisations, but equally, with a project of this nature, it is impossible to be totally comprehensive. We discussed how to balance these considerations in practice.

Professor Olcott encouraged us to think through the process of conducting archival research step-by-step. Firstly, we considered how to assemble your own source base for a transnational project, which may require drawing on multiple archives or collections. Professor Olcott advised us that the body of sources we choose does not need to be totally comprehensive as we need to keep the work focused and manageable. We discussed ways to select sources, such as following one particular movement, organisation, text or idea through the archives. For example, Professor Olcott’s lecture explained some of her new work tracing the activities of south-based women’s networks such as Development Alternatives for Women for a New Era, starting with their published and online records then working outwards. Further selection criteria might include focusing on under-studied sources supported by good-quality secondary literature rather than revisiting the whole source base. We concluded that there are many effective ways to select sources; the most important thing is to justify and explain whichever methods you choose.

We then considered how to locate archival materials. For transnational history, this requires taking into account additional practical considerations like time and funding to travel abroad, proficiency in other languages, and gaining access to archives which may be restricted. On the other hand, transnational research is being supported by archive and museum digitisation projects which increasingly make materials accessible online. Our discussion so far had emphasised careful planning and structure, but Professor Olcott also reminded us to allow space in research plans for serendipitous discoveries in the archives leading our research in new directions.

Once you have built an archive, you then need to analyse it. We started by sharing the techniques we all use for taking notes or other records (such as photographs) at the archives, online, and when reading secondary literature. Professor Olcott reminded us of the importance of being systematic and having clear processes in place to organise notes and citations, particularly over the course of a large project or long career. 

We then came back to the issue of how to write sufficiently detailed transnational histories without the project morphing into a comprehensive history of the world! Professor Olcott suggested it can be helpful to focus on one very specific topic in a transnational context, to give you a clear thread to follow. For example, if you were studying the history of feminism, this might mean tracing a particular organisation, its members, their movements and networks, or the circulation of books, journals and ideas. Alternatively, you might anchor your research by primarily focusing on a topic in one country, then working outwards to explore transnational links. Professor Olcott pointed out that even using these approaches, transnational history takes a long time. A full project may be more suited to a PhD or book project than to a master’s dissertation. However, if you are interested in transnational history, you can look out for transnational links in your current research to help you build a larger transnational research project at a later date.

As the workshop drew to a close, we reflected on the insight we had gained. The workshop highlighted the ability of transnational gender history to disrupt traditional boundaries and categories: it can help lift history out of national borders, challenge conventional periodisation and generate fresh perspectives on gender. We came away from the workshop with plenty of new ideas, questions and practical advice for transnational research, as well as some of Professor Olcott’s infectious enthusiasm for its interest and importance.

Core reading

Mohanty, Chandra Talpade, ‘Under Western Eyes: Feminist Scholarship and Colonial Discourses’, boundary 2, Vol. 12, No. 3, On Humanism and the University I: The Discourse of Humanism (Spring – Autumn, 1984), pp. 333-358.

Olcott, Jocelyn, ‘A Happier Marriage? Feminist History Takes the Transnational Turn’, in Making Women’s Histories: Beyond National Perspectives, ed. Pamela Nadell and Katherine Haulman, (New York: New York University Press, 2013), pp. 237-258.

Olcott, Jocelyn, ‘Transnational Feminism: Event, Temporality, And Performance At The 1975 International Women’s Year Conference’, in Cultures in Motion, ed. Daniel T Rodgers, Bhavani Raman and Helmut Reimitz (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2013), pp. 241-66.

Further reading

Davis, Kathy, The Making of Our Bodies, Ourselves: How Feminism Travels across Borders (Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2007)

Katz, Cindi, ‘Lost and Found: The Imagined Geographies of American Studies,’ Prospects, Vol. 30 (2005), pp. 17-25.

Steedman, Caroline, Dust (Manchester University Press, 2002)

Film director Quentin Tarantino is best known for his acclaimed contributions to postmodern film, and The Kill Bill duology is hailed as the standard choice for showing his feminist leanings. The films tell the tale of a female assassin, Beatrix Kiddo, and her desire for revenge after being murdered at her wedding by a gang of assassins that she formerly belonged to. The leader of the gang, Bill, shot the pregnant bride in the head and placed her in comatose for four years. After waking up, she had a desire for revenge and aimed to kill everyone who was complicit in her death. To the audience, this story appears feminist. A strong female protagonist endures physically and emotionally challenging events in her quest for retribution. On the other hand, portrayals of extreme violence, mostly against women, and the significance of her pregnancy seem to contradict feminism. Does Beatrix Kiddo adhere to positive feminist interpretations? Does she still fall into the same tropes that are written for female characters? Or is she more complex than this? I would argue that throughout her evolution in the films, she holds a complicated identity and a characterisation that is ultimately feminist. Her ability to perform both masculine and feminine roles implies that she is more than just a one-dimensional character adhering to standard gender stereotypes.

By attempting to identify stereotypes that Kill Bill played into, I realised I was giving validity to social constructs that are abstract. Gender stereotypes are defined as personal beliefs about gender differences in trait characteristics, and is largely attributed to socialisation (Oxford Reference, 2020). The problem with stereotyping is that it enforces a gender binary and two strict categories under which one must fall. In addition, it fails to account for the flexibility in behaviour and appearance given a situation and ignores examples of men and women who do not fit certain gender stereotypes. Beatrix Kiddo provides a unique example of a female protagonist who shows duality in her gender performance. In Kill Bill 1 & 2, she is presented to the audience as both a deadly assassin and a loving mother. Her physical aggression and acts of violence are stereotypically masculine traits, whereas her maternal role is inherently a feminine one. Both roles are said to come natural to her. For example, in the final scene Bill calls her a ‘natural born killer’, yet she is also affectionate with her daughter when reunited. It is impossible to restrict Beatrix Kiddo to the dichotomy of masculinity and femininity because she defies the binary by performing both.

When seeking revenge against Copperhead, one of the gang members, Beatrix says is ‘It’s mercy, compassion and forgiveness I lack, not rationality’. Rationality is often a trait associated with masculinity, whereas compassion is feminised. Her self-awareness rejects the stereotype that suggests women should be forgiving and not seek violence, and it shows that she can be masculine in nature, not just feminine. On encountering Hattori Hanzō, the man she wished to make her a samurai sword, she first pretends to be naïve to the Japanese language. In this scene, she acts coy in an attempt to charm him. When he has warmed to her presence, she stops the act and proceeds to speak to him in fluent Japanese, asserting that she wants him to make her a sword for nothing in return. This illustrates the performative aspect of gender roles, and the ease with which she executed her feminine performance to get what she wants. Similarly, she performs similar feminised behaviour for Esteban Vihaio, a father-figure of Bill’s who knows his location. Beatrix’s performance of femininity allowed her to succeed in getting what she wanted from male characters and supports the theory of gender performativity. This suggests that we develop our gender from our performed behaviour (Judith Butler, 1990).

Feminist critiques of Kill Bill have drawn parallels with other action films like Terminator (2001) and Alien, both featuring a strong female action lead. These films are criticised for glorifying masculine characteristics as opposed to female ones, continuing the dominance of masculinity in action films. The female protagonists are also surrounded by a cast of male co-stars (Cristelle Maury & David Roche, 2020). It is unfair to say that these films glorify male traits, as women are capable of being masculine as men are feminine. We should be pushing beyond the rigidity of a masculine/feminine gender binary, not adhering to it. Beatrix is known in popular culture for her androgynous yellow jumpsuit, rather than a stereotypically hypersexualised appearance that is made for the male gaze. One famous example of this stereotype would be Lara Croft, who originated in the Tomb Raider videogames. The videogames industry, similar to comic books and films, is notorious for its reinforcing of gender stereotypes and misogynistic tropes.

Kill Bill is criticised for reinforcing the maternal stereotype. After finding out she is pregnant, Beatrix gives up her job as an assassin live in a small town with her husband. Moreover, it can be argued that the films reinforce the idea that women are dependent on the patriarchy to fulfil their independent role (Lisa V. Mazey, 2020). I would argue that this is part of her evolution, as she returns to the life of an assassin in order to seek revenge. It is fair to highlight how Beatrix receives martial arts education from Pai Mei, a character portrayed as incredibly misogynistic. His teachings helped her escape being buried alive, and one of his techniques allowed her to kill Bill in the final scene. This master-student story may be seen as reinforcing the patriarchy. However, she is a deadly assassin after all. Would it not be in her best interest to be under the tutelage of a master in martial arts?

Tarantino’s films are known for their violent bloodbath scenes, so to have a female protagonist lead performing these scenes subverts the hypersexualised stereotypes that are often placed on women in films and other media (like videogames as mentioned above). The intent of Tarantino as a feminist can be questioned, but Uma Thurman can be credited for bringing the role of Beatrix Kiddo to life through the lens of gender performance. Performing both masculine and feminine behaviours shows the audience that women can be complex characters, and that showing masculine traits is not a bad thing. Kill Bill is feminist in its gender ambiguity, and that is a legacy that should not be erased.

Bibliography:

Butler, Judith, Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity (London: Routledge, 1990)

Maury, Cristelle & David Roche, Women Who Kill: Gender and Sexuality in Film and Series of the Post-Feminist Era (London: Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, 2020).

Mazey, Lisa V., Cinematic Women, From Objecthood to Heroism: Essays on Female Gender Representation on Western Screens and in TV Productions (Delaware: Vernon Press, 2020).

Oxford Reference, Definition of Gender Stereotypes, https://www.oxfordreference.com/view/10.1093/oi/authority.20110803095846645 (Accessed 20th February 2021).

  Content note: sexual violence and the chastity idea 

                                         By XU Jiexin

Documentary Film on the later lives of ‘Comfort Women: Thirty-Two ( November 11, 2014 Mainland China）

‘In 1991, the comfort women system became well-known because of the remembrance of the fifty-years-anniversary of the Pacific War.’ (Su Zhiliang, 2000, p.114) The ‘Comfort Women’ is a serious subject because it has touched culture, human rights, and international relationship, and even the field of war, race, and gender. The history of the comfort women is the most harrowing sex slavery records through the women’s history. (Su Zhiliang, 1998, p.89) One of the comfort women documents suggested, ‘ There would be no less than 360,000 and 410,000 women who suffered from the sexual violence during the war after the implementation of the comfort women system among the seven years.’ ( Su Zhiliang, 2000, p.181) This blog will use the documentary Thirty-Two as primary source to discover how the ideas of chastity influence the victims’ lives after war. 

The comfort women is a translation from Japanese ianfu (Japanese: 慰安婦). Comfort women were women and girls forced into being sex slaves in the military brothel ( Japanese: 慰安所) by the Imperial Japanese Army in occupied countries and territories before and during World War II. (Digital Museum The Comfort Women Issue and the Asian Women’s Fund. https://www.awf.or.jp/e1/facts-01.html [accessed 1 March 2021]) Comfort women mean women who could bring care for soldiers, which did not match the reality. Historians and gender historians have suggested that the term ‘comfort women’ should no longer be used to define victims. They argued that this distorts the facts, blurs the essential distinction between the comfort women system and decriminalisation of sex work, and that it rationalists the sexual violence committed against the women by the Japanese army. They proposed redefining victims as ‘sex slaves’. (Su zhiliang, 2020, p.116)

Thirty-two is a documentary on the subject of comfort women. It tells the story of Wei Shaolan (July27,1920- May5, 2019), a victim of the comfort women system of the invading Japanese army, and her mixed son (Chinese and Japanese), Luo Shanxue. In 1944, twenty-four-year-old Wei Shaolan and her one-year-old daughter were taken into the military brothel. After spending months of torture, she fled back to her home with her daughter. However, her husband did not forgive her, and no one gave her any sympathy. Her husband said, ‘You are back? I thought you would never come back.’ Later, when she found out she was pregnant, her situation became even worse. This documentary is significant because the director Guo Ke presented the life of Wei Shaolan as a victim from a gender perspective. As a woman, she suffered physical abuse during the Second Sino-Japanese War. She was defined as a comfort woman because of the sexual violence of Japanese soldiers. In the early years of liberation, as a woman, she suffered psychological abuse. She was called a ‘Japanese whore’ because she did not meet the requirements of ideas of chastity. In traditional Chinese concepts, reputation was essential for Chinese manhood. Men had to defend their reputations by controlling the behaviors of those around them. They found that regulating the sexual practices of their female kin could protect their reputation. (Bret Hinsch, 2011, pp.169-204) Hence, keeping physical purity was what feudal ethics required of Chinese females. In short, the ideas of chastity required that women only have sexual behavior with their husbands. Therefore, the comfort women’s horrible experience contradicted the traditional Chinese sexual moral standard. The director showed Wei’s life through interviews, reflecting the chastity idea on sexual violence victims. 

Until Guo Ke’s documentary, most scholars and artistic creators have been more interested in the system of ‘Comfort women’ and its historical significance, rather than the women’s gendered experiences. For example, Japanese scholar Yuki Tanaka’ work, Japanese Comfort Women, focuses on ‘using and misusing sex to govern the military.’ (Yuki Tanaka, 2002, p.1) The Korean film Her Story, based on a real historical event, the Pusan ‘Comfort Women’ and Women’s Labour Corps Members VS. Japanese Government Lawsuit ( Japanese: 関釜裁判; Korea: 관부재판), tells the story of Korean comfort women victims who went to Japan to sue the Japanese government. The documentary can also be used as a reference for the study of changes in ideas of chastity, as the changing view of female virtue is vital to the study of Chinese women. In this short review, I will focus on what the documentary reveals about the extent to which the chastity idea has affected the lives of victims of sexual violence. 

It is hard for comfort women’s victims to tell the experience of what happened to them during the war. At that time, said Wei, ‘Tears flowed in my heart.’ In dealing with the narrative of her past, director Guo took an approach that respects Wei. He took Wei’s mixed son as a symbol of her past. In the past, the victims of sexual violence were ashamed to admit their experiences. It stems from the concept of chastity idea; its limitations fundamentally deny women any rights in sexuality. Simultaneously, the idea of chastity has forced people to ignore the unequal experiences of victims of sexual violence selectively. The writer Tan Enmei (Amy Tan) once described the importance of virginity to Chinese women, ‘When you lose your face…, it is like dropping your necklace down a well. The only way you can get it back is to fall in after it.’( Amy Tan, 1993) Thus, in the past, chastity was vital to Chinese women.

Since ancient times, China has followed Confucianism, which believes in the importance of reputation and purity for humans. Women’s innocence was the standard by which they measured their value. Furthermore, the rights granted by law to men and women in gender relations were not equal. Women were appendages to men, and their bodies belonged to their husbands. In this case, the concept of chastity required them to guard not their bodies but to guard the purity that their husbands placed in their vaginas. Wei’s husband did not praise her wisdom and courage but said indifferently, ‘I thought you would never come back.’ Firstly, in a circumstance where chastity was larger than life, Wei was raped by the other man, which was the sign of her disloyalty. Secondly, as her husband’s appendage, Wei’s experience has made her husband ashamed because his private property was no longer pure. 

This idea of shame was not limited to men’s minds; the victims also internalised it. Another victim, Li Ailian from Shanxi Province, was taken into a military brothel by the Japanese army after her new marriage. When she fled back to her village, her husband said, ‘ It is not your fault. The Japanese took you.’ When Li spoke of this, a relieved smile appeared on her face, knowing that her husband did not dislike her. But it reflected her inner thoughts that she identified herself as disgraceful and unclean, that her husband should have resented her. She said, ‘The shame I felt inside would eat away me for the rest of my life.’(Guo ke, 2017)

At the beginning of the twentieth century, the ideas of democracy, freedom, and science had taken root in the West. Freud, Russell, and others who opposed the old traditions on marriage, family, and sexuality were widely spread. The women’s movement for gender rights and liberation was in full swing. China’s cultural pioneers embraced Western ideas of democracy, equality, and science. They began to criticise the limitation of chastity ideas, which had shackled Chinese women for thousands of years. However, when modern civilisation challenges traditional rituals, it takes time to iron out the differences in between. After the calamity, Wei lives most of her life in the shadows. In her later years, Wei lamented, ‘The world is so good. I do not want to die.’ It perhaps signifies that she is probably finally liberated, and the inflicted on her by the chastity is healed.

For victims of sexual violence, the worst pain does not originate from the physical body but the shackles of morality and mental humiliation. The change in social consciousness and ethics at all levels of society is a long process, and even today, we still find some traditional negative concepts in people’s minds. Therefore, it will always take time to iron out the limitations of ‘chastity’ completely. Wei’s story tells us the spiritual injury is hard to cure. Thirty-two reminds us of the importance to stop thinking ‘losing chastity is a shame’ when faced with sexual victims. It is also vital to bear in mind that ignoring the victim’s emotion would injure them psychologically, which is also a crime.

Primary Sources

Guo Ke, Thirty-two, 2014 

Guo Ke, Twenty-two, 2017

Bibliography

Su Zhiliang, Re-examination of the ‘comfort women’ issues，Research on the history of war, 2000, p.114

Su Zhiliang, Chen life, A Brief Discussion of the Comfort Women System of the Japanese Army Invading China, History Study, 1998, p.89 

Su Zhiliang, A few points on the Japanese comfort women system, Anti-Japanese War Studies, 2000, p.181

Digital Museum The Comfort Women Issue and the Asian Women’s Fund. https://www.awf.or.jp/e1/facts-01.html

Su Zhiliang, Re-examination of the ‘comfort women’ issues, p. 116

Bret Hinsch, Male Honor and Female Chastity in Early China, NAN NÜ, 2011, pp.169-204

Yuki Tanaka, Japan’s Comfort Women—— Sexual slavery and prositution duding world war ii and the us occupation, Taylor & Francis Group, p.1

Amy Tan, The Joy Luck Club, 1993

By Jeremy Wolfers

WWI saw major changes to the socioeconomic position of women in the workforce and new fashions in their wake, emphasising a new, “modern” womanhood based around entrance to the previously male-dominated labour market (Roberts, 1993, p. 660). Fashions, as well as depictions of women, carried political messaging, and in France the femme moderne was hystericized during the Paris Peace Conference of 1919, with more pressing political matters of Bolshevism and the post-war structures being somewhat overshadowed. Bolshevism itself perhaps was a cause for the concerns around fashion, as Soviet artwork and theory generated a new image of the Soviet woman as having been given the ability to participate in public spaces and serve as a productive, rather than, or as well as, a reproductive agent. In particular, emphasis was placed on allowing women to escape domestic life in text, but the imagery of soviet art and the realities of Soviet society instead reinforced traditional gender roles (Turton, 2018, p. 70). In particular, the 1930s Five-Year Plan, which set high production goals and reintroduced women to some industrial labour, saw women being portrayed less and less in industrial settings and saw them experiencing worse labour conditions and fewer services (Schrand, 1999, p. 1456).

This 1920 poster depicts a female industrial worker, who thanks to the Bolshevik revolution has been given “workers clubs, libraries, cafeterias, universities and a home for her and her child”. This embodied the duality of Soviet imagery on gender roles, simultaneously portraying her independence and participation in work and public spaces whilst emphasizing her reproductive role at home. Of note, however, is the lack of depiction of any radical fashion accompanying her position; her red dress is a striking representation of communism, but her and the babushkas in the background are dressed in traditional peasant clothing.

The political image of the emancipated woman in the soviet context is thus free from the gender constraints of capitalism, but remains in many ways “traditional”, and lacked the appeals to modernism and new “freedom of movement” that were embodied in contemporaneous French fashions (Roberts, 1993, pp. 661, 675-678). Russian constructivist fashions were present in this period, but were unpopular and never made it to the forefront of Soviet realist art or sculpture, because they were primarily made by female artists who were often restricted in their access to painting materials (Kiaer, 2009). Additionally, the aesthetics of constructivism borrowed from the capitalist French fashions of the late 1910s/1920s, which were visually and ideologically counter to Soviet realism. The “Prozodezhda” constructivist outfits, inspired by industrial uniforms and functional design, were unsuccessful, and more modern fashions akin to the Flapper fashions were stigmatized due to their capitalist connotations. The cartoon below from the Soviet Women’s magazine “Zhenskii Zhurnal” portrays women with modernist, “flapper” fashion as scowling jealously at a woman with more domestic and less “dynamic” clothing. As such, whilst advertising and concepts existed for more modern style fashion, it had little place in the propaganda posters which retained the traditional portrayal of women as mothers, peasants and in traditional clothing; productivity and its governing factors of health and naturality was emphasized (Rudova, 2014, p. 391).

Progressively through the 1930s the emphasis shifted from opening opportunities for women to consigning them to specific spaces, especially peasant work and domesticity/reproduction (Schrand, 1999, pp. 1455-8). The Zhenotdel Women’s Department, the Soviet government’s women’s pressure group, was dissolved, which reduced the influence women had on policy. Most of the party higher ups were apathetic when it came to actually providing emancipatory policies and services for women in employment. Portrayals such as the above poster for collective farms portrayed women as powerful productive agents, but in more traditional settings of peasant work. Her tall stance and red colouring represent her as a powerhouse for soviet production compared to the “priests” and “kulaks”, other traditional figures of pre-revolutionary Russia with no place in the system. As a result, the traditional image of the female peasant worker was propagated despite many other traditional societal roles being extinguished.

Perhaps the most iconic piece of Soviet Realist sculpture was the iconic Worker and Collective Farm Woman produced for the Paris International Exhibition in 1937. Whilst a dynamic image highlighting the freedom of the peasant woman, and the steel plated construction highlights the industrial modernism of the Soviet people, the woman is a farm worker, specifying her space in the fields where women had worked for a much longer time. Additionally, women’s remaining role in industrial labour was both smaller and less well regulated, with 50% of women, 28% of the industrial work force, being unemployed due to a shift away from light industry. An increase in women’s employment came in informal, unskilled labour following sudden shortages into 1930. Women’s tasks in industry were perhaps intentionally unclear and often they were only portrayed on breaks and not actually working, a trope outlined in the 1935 Thematic Plan, which dictated the approved artistic direction for Soviet artists (Reid, 1998, p. 138). With decreased funding for day-cares and nurseries, women were consigned back to domesticity, in contrast to the supposed goals of equality of the Bolsheviks and the initial aims in the 1910s and 20s.

Soviet practice of gender equality never quite reached its goals, as the productivity of the Soviet system declined such that the funding for nurseries and day-cares that would allow women into productive labour was cut. As a result, the 1930s saw women increasingly being coded as peasants, and their real opportunities declined as the decision making of the USSR more or less ceased its already surface-level commitment to gender equality. Fashions and goods for women were discouraged in propaganda, and as such women’s role was conveyed to be increasingly domestic and in line with traditional gender roles.

Bibliography

Christina Kiaer, “The short life of the equal woman”, Tate-etc, Issue 15 (2009). https://www.tate.org.uk/tate-etc/issue-15-spring-2009/short-life-equal-women. Last accessed 10^th February 2021

Susan E. Reid, “All Stalin’s Women: Gender and Power in Soviet Art 1930s”, Slavic Review, Vol. 57, No. 1 (1998), pp. 133-173

Mary Louise Roberts, “Samson and Delilah Revisited: The Politics of Women’s Fashions in 1920s France”, The American Historical Review, Vol. 98, No. 3 (1993), pp. 657-684

Larissa Rudova, “’Who’s the fairest of them all?’ Beauty and Femininity in Contemporary Russian Adolescent Girl Fiction”, The Russian Review, Vol. 73, No. 3 (2014), pp. 389-403

Thomas G. Schrand, “Five-Year Plan for Women’s Labour: Constructing Socialism and the ‘Double Burden’, 1930-1932”, Europe-Asia Studies, Vol. 51, No. 8 (1999), pp. 1455-1478

Katy Turton, “Gender and Family in the Russian Revolutionary Movement”, in Melanie Ilic, The Palgrave Handbook of Women and Gender in Twentieth-Century Russia and the Soviet Union (Palgrave Macmillan, London, 2018), pp. 69-82

Primary Sources

N. Mikhailov, In Our Kolkhoz [Collective Farm] There is No Place for Priests and Kulaks (Original printed in 1930).  https://blogs.miamioh.edu/havighurst/2016/12/16/revolutionary-sources-part-i-propaganda-the-peasant-woman-and-the-transformation-of-soviet-propaganda-1917-1930/. Last Accessed 10^th February 2021

Vera Mukhina, Worker and Collective Farm Woman (1937) https://en.opisanie-kartin.com/description-of-the-monument-to-vera-mukhina-worker-and-collective-farm-woman/. Last Accessed 10^th February 2021

“This is what the October Revolution has given to the working and peasant women”, 1920. International Museum of Women (2021). http://exhibitions.globalfundforwomen.org/exhibitions/women-power-and-politics/appearance/emancipated. Last Accessed 10^th February 2021

“Zhenskii Zhurnal”, Issue 11 (1928). Rowley Soviet Ephemera, Blavatnik Archive.org. Last Accessed 23^rd May 2021.

Before starting this post, I would like to say that in this article I will only focus on the series of novels of A Song of Ice and Fire, and not on the HBO adaptation. I also want to warn readers that this post contains explicit scenes of rape and sexual violence.

The dark fantasy series of novels, A Song of Ice and Fire written by George R. R. Martin, is set in a medieval-inspired universe, which emphasises the brutality described in the books as this era has the reputation for being brutal, and it contains graphically violent scenes of war, death, and rape. The series has five books published so far and tells the story of different kingdoms fighting to access the Iron Throne using every means to obtain it, such as war, political machinations, or treachery. The one who gains this throne would govern all the kingdom.  Sexual violence as a recurring theme of the novels represents a variety of different issues linked with patriarchy and sexism, such as the rape of women, and their objectification, as they are treated like a piece of merchandise when they are given to a man in a marriage with no regards to their feelings. Patriarchy is a system that gives power to men while subordinating women. (Butler, 2006 p.56).  In some cases, raping a woman is a way to objectify and possess her, as Robert does to Cersei. Cersei herself rapes another female character to impose her superiority over someone else, and to attempt to escape the patriarchal oppression in which she is imprisoned. This behaviour is coherent with Cersei’s general behaviour throughout the story. She spends the five novels struggling to keep as much power as she can, first as a queen, then as a regent for both her sons. Thus, claiming power through rape is only one more attempt by her to seize more power. Other characters, such as Gregor Clegane and his men, use rape to assert power over someone weaker than them. Consequently, it seems like rape is an issue that touches both sexuality and power.  

In the Song of Ice and Fire series sexual acts are often used to reflect the characters’ personality. Thus, much can be said about the characters who perpetrate rape; when Robert raped Cersei, he was always drunk. (Martin, 2005, p.692). Furthermore, Robert assumes that because Cersei is his wife, he has the right to have intercourse with her, even if she does not consent. This way of thinking is one of the principles of the patriarchal system present in the Westerosi society. The rape of a wife by her husband is not considered as a rape, but simply as a normal sexual intercourse between a married couple because what matters is what the husband wants. The patriarchal system, which is also present in the real world, places men at the top of the hierarchy by promoting male privileges and by subordinating women. (Butler, 2006, p.57). The conjugal rape of Cersei by Robert is representative of the subordination of women. Women are seen as inferior to men because they do not have power over men, nor over their own lives, so much so that they are seen as having no desires of their own. Wives are then subordinate to their husbands because their will and desires are not considered, and because they must obey their husband’s every decision. Thus, Robert does not ask Cersei’s permission before sexual intercourse because, as his wife, she must obey him.

Instead of accepting her subordination, Cersei chooses to try and act like a man to obtain some of the privileges reserved to men. To feel like a man, in a society where domination is linked with masculinity and power and where women are powerless and only valuable as child bearers, she rapes Lady Taena, one of her companions:

Cersei wondered what it would feel like to suckle on those breasts, to lay the Myrish woman on her back and push her legs apart and use her as a man would use her, the way Robert would use her when the drink was in him (Martin, 2005, p.685).

In this passage from Cersei’s perspective, her motivation for the rape is quite clear. She wants to rape Lady Taena not because she is attracted to her, but because she wants to have the same sexual experience as a man raping a woman. Moreover, she is comparing what she is about to do to Lady Taena, with what Robert did to her. She states that she wants to “use” Lady Taena as Robert “used” her. The choice of the verb “use” for sexual intercourse reveals how Cersei felt when Robert raped her, as well as the presence of the patriarchal system in the novels. The verb “use” is mostly applied in the context of using objects, thus, choosing this verb to describe a sexual encounter reinforces the objectification of the other that is a fundamental aspect of rape. Cersei was objectified by her husband; thus, she objectifies another woman to take a man’s place and gain a man’s privilege, at least regarding other women. Her actions can be likened to what Deniz Kandiyoti called the patriarchal bargain (Butler, 2006, p.60). Kandiyoti explains that women employ strategies to gain a degree of power and freedom within the patriarchal system (Kandiyoti, 1988, p.276). By acting like a man Cersei is attempting to make a bargain with the patriarchal system of Westeros to become empowered. The bargain she is attempting to make with her patriarchal society is that by gaining power over other women via rape she would be able to acquire some power, thus gaining some male privileges. However, by gaining power she sacrifices another woman’s power, removing her agency, objectifying her, and re-enacting what Robert did to her (Fraser, 2015, p.152; Young, 2017, p.52). Cersei is attempting to break free from an oppressive system, but she is unsuccessful because she has internalised the misogyny and prejudice of her society (Carroll, 2018, pp.65 -66). By having a woman raping another woman, Martin could have wanted to show the damage that rape could have on women by representing Cersei’s rape as part of her trauma. This can also be linked with the damage patriarchy could cause. A man hurt Cersei so her only option to get some power back is to hurt another woman. However, with this scene Martin has also been criticised. He was accused of writing it only for the benefit of male readers’ fantasies, which is a recurrent problem in fantasy literature (Carroll 2010, p.103).  

Besides, Cersei states that during a war, rape victims ‘were probably praying for a good raping’ (Martin, 2005, p.674). Being herself a victim of rape, she shows no compassion for other women in the same predicament. On the contrary, she is expressing the sexist opinion that if a woman has been raped it was probably because she was asking for it (Fraser, 2015, p.174).

Gregor Clegane and his men also use rape to express power and domination over people weaker than them. They rape the daughter of an inn keeper just because they could, and because the father of the victim was powerless to defend her (Carroll, 2018, p.90). This rape was perpetrated not only because of a sexual drive, but also because the men were in a position of power over the inn keeper and his daughter, and they abused it. One of the men who gangraped the inn keeper’s daughter said after the fact that, ‘maybe she’d decide she liked it after all’ as the young girl stops resisting (Martin, 1998, pp.467, 468). This statement carries the idea, also present in our modern society, that for a woman to be a ‘true victim of rape she had to prove that she had been fighting her aggressor’ (Fraser, 2015, p.174).  Moreover, what the soldier declared after the rape echoes what Cersei will say two books later when speaking about war victims being raped, that they were waiting to be raped.

In the series A Song of Ice and Fire rape and sexual violence is a recurrent theme. It is used in the novels to emphasis the harsh and medieval environment in which the characters exist. In addition, it also represents the personality of the characters, as seen by Cersei’s selfishness and hunger for power, or Clegane’s brutality. Rape is also a reflection of the oppressive patriarchy that is present in the Westeros society. Despite graphic depictions of rape within the novels, the author makes no effort to show how the victims of rape overcome their trauma, except in the case of Cersei.

Bibliography:

Butler, Judith, (2006) History Matters: Patriarchy and the Challenge of Feminism, University of Pennsylvania Press

Carroll, S. (2018) “Frontmatter”, in Medievalism in A Song of Ice and Fire and Game of Thrones. Boydell & Brewer

Fraser, Courtney, (2015) ‘from “ladies first” to “asking for it”: benevolent sexism in the maintenance of rape culture’ in California Law Review vol. 103 no. PP. 141-203.

Kandiyoti, Deniz, (1988) ‘Bargaining with patriarchy’, in Gender and Society, Vol. 2, No. 3, Richmond College UK

Martin, George R.R. (1988) Clash of Kings, Voyager Books, Glasgow

Martin, George R.R. (2005) Feast for Crows, Voyager Books, Glasgow

Young, Joseph, (2017) Enough about whores: sexual characterisation in A Song of Ice and Fire. Mythlore Spring/Summer vol. 35 no. 2 PP. 45-61.  

Welcome to our new blog. The site will be populated with more content shortly. Please check back.