Hello hello! Continuing our discussion about BDSM and abuse romances, let's talk about a writer who gets it right. Let's talk about Edgeplay by Katie de Long.
Who's Katie? Katie de Long lives in the Pacific
Northwest, realizing her dream of being a crazy cat-lady. As a kid, Katie
flagged the fade-to-blacks in every adult book she encountered, and when she
began writing, she vowed to use cutaways sparingly. After all, that's when the
good stuff happens. And on a kindle, no one asks why there's so many bookmarks
in her library.
Q: Describe yourself in 20 words or
less.
A bad girl through and through.
Sharp-edged, outspoken, exhibitionistic, and a little crazy. That about sum it
up? Also, as will become evident in this conversation, a survivor and a
submissive.
Q: Fifty Shades has had an incredible
backlash, even bigger than the one Twilight faced. What do you think is behind
that?
A: 50 Shades lies on a number of psychological
and sociological fault lines. Twilight was on some of those faultlines, but not
all. 50 Shades is on the goddamn Hellmouth of rape culture and patriarchy.
Everything from its handling of gender, female friendships, slutshaming,
arousal as consent, BDSM as a moral failing, is framed on a society that
emphasizes toxic femininity.
Basically, we-- both women and men--
determine women's worth based upon their ability to suffer for everyone else.
You see it in “my child's birth was more grueling than yours” one-upping,
pornography that glorifies women's lack of pleasure or sometimes even outright pain
in anal sex scenes. There's this sense that, the more you give up, the less you
respond to aggression, the less you demand from those around you, the better
you are, as a person, that isn't really there with men. Women need to be
martyrs, giving up their happiness, their bodies, their hobbies, for anyone who
asks-- be it a verbally abusive family member, a partner who coerces them into
sex acts or kinks they aren't comfortable with (Ahem, 50 Shades), or a stranger
on the street who demands they have a conversation, when they have places to
be. It's a consistent framing of a woman's good boundaries being none,
and any attempt to put down boundaries as being bitchy, irrational,
unreasonable, frigid, chasing him away, overreacting, having misplaced
priorities, etc. The list goes on and on.
Toxic masculinity is the idea that men are
defined by the amount of pain they can give, or take, from other men, without
showing pain. It has its own heavily harmful effects, too. But the stuff that
lets readers identify with Ana, despite her many flaws, and her fairly bad
judgment is entirely rooted in the fact that she plays to an idea of womanhood
stemming from old-world morality-- that man's sexuality is something to be
suffered and managed by virginal women with no sexuality of their own, for no
pleasure of their own, because otherwise the men would become depraved and run
the world to hell. If Ana actually seemed like she liked the kink, well,
that would remove some of the weight of her journey, right?
Point is, Ana is polarizing, because any
given reader's feelings on her are tied into their feelings on the way they
fit in with the world. If they're someone who has already rebelled against
toxic femininity, they'll think she's a doormat, an abuse victim, and that the
whole work is playing into an incredibly harmful system. And they wouldn't be
wrong. But if they're someone who holds those feminine ideals, or who has lived
their entire life in that system believing it was the only way to be happy,
you'll see her as a strong person for taking everything he dishes out, and
you'll be rooting for that happy ending. And you still wouldn't be wrong.
To be honest, I don't like either of the
poles on this one. “Fifty Shades glorifies violence against women!” “Fifty
Shades is just a fantasy.” Both are true, and neither is the point. I do
think it's important to look at what in our culture contributes to it
being such a widespread fantasy, especially in light of its
misrepresentation of some of the core tenets of the BDSM lifestyle. If only
because that'll help us figure out what else taps into those fantasies,
and maybe be able to promote some other fantasies, as well.
Q: What's the biggest difference between
your book and Fifty Shades?
A: Consent is the big one. At every step, Nina
consents, and at every step, her limits are respected, even when they're
pushed. Edgeplay is also a little different in that the limits being pushed are
rarely kinky ones; it's BDSM, but not BDSM of the kind that has serious kink (At
least not pictured in the context of the story, though Nina and Daniel are
experienced playmates, and certainly enjoy their kink. It just wasn't relevant
to the arc in this particular story.) The BDSM power play is a tool in it for
her to explore her power and her agency, since it's something that her
experiences have told her can't be explored in a meaningful way with more
vanilla encounters. Whether she's enacting a brutal rape fantasy, or pushing
herself to stop freezing and going out of body when kissed, she's there because
she wants to be, and she can walk away at any time.
And, too, her problems are different from
Ana's. Ana's revolve around this “how much can she take” dynamic as more and
more “kink” is heaped on her to show that she's good enough, strong enough, to
deserve Christian's attentions, and take everything he can throw at her-- see
the toxic femininity comment above. Nina's problems revolve around a “how much
can she take” dynamic in regard to pushing past her trauma, but the stressful
stuff being heaped on her, that nearly breaks her, is run of the mill affection.
Ana fears being spanked-- or “hit,” as she often refers to it. Nina fears being
touched gently-- you can beat ten shades of bruise into her, and she'll smile,
say “Thank you, Sir,” and feel that the world makes sense. Pain isn't
frightening.
As far as the Doms, well, Daniel, Nina's
Dom, is careful to respect her limits, and is actively hurt when he
thinks he's overstepped himself in play. He's got some flaws with
overconfidence, and at times that does lead him to be manipulated, or to
make decisions that hurt or undermine Nina, but he's very particular about
boundaries, and his attention to detail means that he ends a scene too early,
rather than pushing it too late, as Christian Grey does. To be honest, I see
Nina as being far closer to Christian Grey, than Daniel is. Except that she's
the submissive, so it's a completely different thing, even if on paper those
two characters have some similar things-- traumatic histories, aversions to
being touched, dislike of intimacy. Basically, the gender dynamics in Edgeplay
are completely different than in 50 Shades of Grey.
Q: What is it about this kind of dark
romance that seems to have struck a nerve?
A: A little more on this specific kind of
romance in the question below, but I think people use dark romances similarly
to horror, for catharsis in the fear. Indeed, the two genres often have a lot
of overlap. Tweak a few wordings in 50 Shades of Grey, and you have a tragedy
about a woman psychologically and physically abused until she gives up her very
identity. Tweak the wording on a few of the scenes in a captivity fantasy
romance and it becomes a harrowing fight to escape from imprisonment by a
monster. Tweak the balance of elements in a revenge thriller about a girl
getting close enough to avenge her dad, and you have a dark romantic thriller
when her conflicting feelings toward her target and those around him become
plain.
That gives it versatility; you can
incorporate thriller elements, film-noir elements, suspense elements, dark
supernatural or horror elements, and explore some of the most complex variants
of human sexuality. And this isn't a new thing. Look to the movies, and you'll
see an endless parade of concepts that would be lumped in with Dark
Romance, worked in as romance subplots in action movies, self-destructive
fighters redeemed by the love of the right woman, brightened up a la Pretty
Woman, or explored through stalker narratives like Elijah Woods' rendition
of the classic movie Maniac, which is in many many places just a
few conversations and a sex scene away from an actual romance. We're honestly
really familiar with these narratives: the hatefuck revenge one, the Beauty and
the Beast capture fantasy, the girl in over her head with a Mafia Don, the nice
guy turned stalker... They aren't always center stage, but they're still
present in our vernacular, and so long as that's the case, we'll continue to
see people draw to these blends.
Q: Are romances about abusive relationships
a special, unusual category, or do these dynamics play a part in almost all
relationships--real and fictional alike?
A: Every relationship. No matter how loving,
you'll always have miscommunication, points of friction, that when repeated can
form abusive patterns. It's one of the reasons why maintaining a close
connection to people is such a labor-intensive endeavor. Even those who
haven't survived abuse have the framework to empathize with a character in that
situation, just based in their own experiences.
And this might be a somewhat controversial
position to take, but I think people are drawn to abusive fantasies as a way of
processing things that they think are off in their own relationships. See,
there's a ton of different emotional cycles that go into living in an even
minorly abusive or unsatisfying relationship, and a lot of conflicting
feelings. Society expects one reaction-- universal revulsion and fear--
but ignores the multitude of others. Same as we gloss over date rape or incest
in favor of stranger-danger narratives that are easy and linear. It's one of
the reasons why most abuse narratives are framed around utterly
unlovable abusers, and the central question is often “why did she stay?” or
“how much will it take to get her to leave?”
But living in a less than happy situation,
even if it's not outright abusive, it's an emotional mess. What can you do to
make it get better? What are you doing wrong? Is this the best it'll ever get?
Is this the worst it'll ever get? Could you forgive yourself for giving
up on the good things in this relationship?Would you regret it in a decade if
you did leave him? Do you even have the ability to leave, since
you've been off the job market a decade, and your certification in whatever
field you were in before has expired? He was so nice and cuddly this morning.
He would be so hurt if he knew you weren't feeling fulfilled anymore. You're
gonna spend time with his family today, and his sister is a great friend of
yours. Think how hurt she'd be, to no longer have you around, for his
feelings!
People deal with these types of pressures
and doubts differently. Some people cheat on their spouse, find love, sex,
excitement, or support outside the relationship, while keeping the relationship
stable. Some people drown themselves in online RPGs, to feel they truly can
become powerful with effort, and there's a tangible correlation between what
they put in, and what they get out. Some people look at how much worse it could
be, and drown themselves in dramas or tragedies, to say “At least I have what I
have.”
And some people look at the possibility of
changing an abusive man, or what unconditional love means in the context
of an abusive romance, and take something uplifting from it about their own
ability to persevere through whatever rough patch they're in. Not because they
intend to stay with an abuser, or want to be in an abusive relationship, but
because that “love conquers all” feeling makes it easier to forgive their
partner for forgetting their anniversary again.
That's all for now, but part 2 is coming soon! Stay tuned.
***
Thanks for dropping by the nest once again. Leave your comments, rebuttals, and vehement agreements below. Don't miss any of the phuquerie. Find Michelle on Twitter, Facebook, and on Tumblr, and find her work on Amazon. Check back on the blog to see when one of the irregular posts has careened onto your feed. This is the one and only SciFiMagpie, over and out!
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