I was trying to understand why I have issues with Cake’s book. While I see the validity in creating a handbook completely dedicated to women’s pleasure, I discovered that it is the language that bothers me. In class, we have been discussing the need for a new language in which women can express their sexual desires and understand their multifaceted sexuality. However, I do not think Cake accomplishes this in the book. It is still confined by heterosexual language and active sexual descriptions that we have found problematic. I love how accessible the language is because of its raw quality but I have trouble with the violent language used, such as “gripping so hard that one leaves thumbprints” (197) or your partner telling you that you are “a little whore who deserves to be punished” (238). I am not naive to the fact that role-play and power play are fundamental factors of many women’s sex lives, but should this be the norm? What if I am not comfortable having my partner call me “Daddy’s little whore”?
In chapter eleven, The Porn Myth, Gallagher and Kramer deconstruct the notion that women are not visually stimulated. Many women sexually respond to porn and Cake wants to emphasize the need for porn focused on women’s pleasure. Mainstream porn has been marketed to men, and thus, the content focuses on the male fantasy, with the end being expressed through man ejaculating. Gallagher and Kramer express the need for porn that focuses on female pleasure not defined through this endpoint of male ejaculation. “We want to see ourselves on-screen and identify with the subject” (180). First, Cake assures women that porn can enhance their sexual lives and stimulate them along with men, and second, Cake demands that the porn industry start making porn that caters to women.
In chapter twelve, “Straight” as a Ruler, Gallagher and Kramer deconstruct the strict sexual orientation binary of being either hetero or homosexual. I think this has been a concern for many of us in the class because Cake tends to use language that reinforces heterosexual intimacy. But in this chapter an exploration of hetero and homosexual desires and acts are embraced. Cake expresses that many women who define themselves as “straight” have fantasies and sexual desires of being with women. This section appears to be geared toward women who have had heterosexual relationships but have either experimented women or fantasize about women sexually. Again, this is not tailored to women who are openly lesbians. It focuses on experimentation with both sexes. I loved their discussion of labeling and the brief history they gave (pages 208 to 209) on the societal construct of sexual orientation labels. I agree that these rigid labels need to be deconstructed to allow more freedom to experience all sexual desires with partners of both sexes.
In chapter thirteen, Power Play, Gallagher and Kramer discuss the issue of power dynamics within sexual interaction. Again, the main focus is power roles between heterosexual partners, so the discussion of lesbian sex is not addressed in full. Gallagher and Kramer understand the complication of discussing power dynamics in heterosexual relationships because for so long feminists have been fighting against the image of the submissive woman being a vessel of pleasure for the dominant male. But they stress the point that “letting someone else take control does not mean you are weak, and wanting control does not mean you are the bully” (226). I was interested in the idea that those who experience power in their everyday lives tend to want to be dominated in the bedroom. The feeling of “letting go” and being “dominated” is attractive to several women. However, this was the chapter that I had a lot of personal issues with the language. Cake seems to make being completely dominated, verbally abused, and sexually “taken” without consent to be glorified and sexy. While I understand that Cake is trying to say that if this is how you get off it is okay, not enough attention was given to women who do not like to be in the extreme submissive or dominant role. Is there a way to experience sexual pleasure without this extreme power dichotomy? Can power distribution be more fluid, a little of both, not so extreme as being taken or violently dominating your partner? Can this power be expressed using less violent language?
In chapter fourteen, Birth of the Cake Sam’ich, the idea of threesomes is addressed. The beginning of the chapter is dedicated to WMW (two women and one man) encounters and the second part discusses the “cake sam-ich” or MWM (two men and one woman) encounters. This chapter seemed very fantastical to me. Maybe it is because I associate threesomes with the porn industry and the construction of the male fantasy, rather than an actualized experience by everyday couples. I was interested in the discussion of gender again. I think I was more open to the idea of two women together with a man but could not imagine asking my partner to have a threesome with another man. I became very aware of our homophobic culture, especially regarding men’s sexuality. I found myself getting angry that I was more open to engaging in this act with another woman rather than another man!
I would like to reiterate the fact that Cake’s book was very enlightening in many ways but also limiting. The title says, “the hot woman’s handbook”, but even in their disclaimer Gallagher and Kramer express the fact that the women they are writing to and about are predominately “straight”. I feel as if there main purpose was to deconstruct taboos that have hindered women’s sexual exploration in the past and they do this by using extreme examples of women engaging in these taboo activities. However, I found it hard to identify with many of the definitions of a sexualized woman that Cake offered. I consider myself to be a sexually charged individual that is very open about my sexual desires and needs. Am I truly enlightened if I do not agree or wish to engage in many of the acts this book describes? Where do I fit as a sexual woman?
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5 comments:
Annie,
Thanks for interesting thoughts! I'd like to address the issue of heterosexist or heteronormative language that you bring up (and that we've touched on briefly in class before). My question is, are we critiquing Gallagher and Kramer for using heterosexist or heteronormative language?
I suppose we should begin by defining those words. Based on my understanding, I would say that heterosexist language is discriminatory and offensive, and implies a lack of respect towards GLBT communities. Heteronormative language implies that one sees heterosexuality as the norm and ones language is reflective of this perspective. (Are these accurate definitions?)
While both words have negative connotations, heterosexist seems to me to be a much more negatively loaded word. Do you agree? Is there any overlap between these words? Is it possible to be heteronormative in one's language without being heterosexist?
I'm wondering, is it fair to critique CAKE for using heteronormative language if they acknowledge that the book is written for a primarily straight audience? That is, are they writing from the perspective that heterosexuality is the norm WITHOUT acknowleding that being GLBT is a viable option too, OR are they writing to a primarily heterosexual audience, while acknowledging that other sexual orientations are viable too? If the latter is true, can this be called heteronormative language or do we need a new word to describe such an approach?
We’ve been talking a lot about women’s pleasure in porn... mostly that it doesn’t exist. Speaking openly as a porn consumer, my experience with it has been anything but what we’ve been talking about. The beauty of porn, if there is such a thing, is the variety of it. I can understand our class’ (or even many feminist thinker’s) reaction to what I can only call “main-stream” porn. Honestly, though, I don’t think that’s the kind of porn that should represent the user community as a whole.
It is not uncommon to see men dominating women in porn... Likewise, it’s hardly uncommon to see the reverse. Similarly, I think the emphasis on male pleasure is not as dominant as argued. Not to say that there isn’t an abundance of male-pleasure center pornography, there is. But there is a plethora of pleasure on the woman’s side. Before I continue, I’m not referring to the faking involved in porn, although I think that might be a sign that men (as the target audience) like the idea women liking sexual activity. I’m talking about female ejaculation, solo masturbation sessions, female-dominant BDSM, and, to some extent, lesbian encounters.
I’m certain that female pleasure is still underrepresented, but I don’t think that we should look at it as being absent. I wonder about ways that some people might be heading in a more female-friendly direction for porn. I think it’s possible, but at the same time feel that it might be misleading. Porn catered to women should include more female pleasure (something that women should be able, as CAKE states, “identify with”), but what else could in include without embracing a stereotype of female sexuality. It might actually make things worse.
Of course, I have no means of remedying the situation... I realize I’m latching onto only one thing that you’ve mentioned in your response. I feel like I’ve robbed you of the rest of your post, but we’ve been talking a lot about it in class and thought that I could add something.
Annie-
I think your blog wonderfully articulates the struggle that many women in the class seem to be having with CAKE- how do heterosexual women who aren't turned on by what CAKE says they should be supposed to use CAKE's recommendations. For me, I didn't find myself in the same situation because little in any of CAKE's suggestions applied to me, since I identify as queer. What concerned me was that CAKE's language regarding sexual labeling and the restrictions it poses for people of all sexual orientations was geared toward heterosexist views about non-heterosexual sexualities as "choices." (see my blog for more examples)
I'd also like to respond to Janne's comment: I think that CAKE's language throughout chapter 12 was in many, many ways "discriminatory and offensive, and implying a lack of respect towards GLBT communities." I believe that this is an accurate definition of heterosexist approaches and language. I would say that all of CAKE is heteronormative, which isn't necessarily bad, since they acknowledge that their audience is heterosexual and gear their language towards heterosexual women. However, I believe that it isn't particularly "possible to be heteronormative in one's language without being heterosexist," since heteronormative culture inherently creates heterosexism. CAKE provides a great example of this.
I think you're struggling with some of the same things I am in this final segment. In their focus on more edgy things, CAKE fails to do much to help people with more tame ideas of what is sexy to have their pleasure fully realized. I've been wondering lately if maybe I really just need to start using violent language and buy tons of sex toys and props, and voila--my sex life will be just so much explosively better than I could ever have imagined! But that's not what I want, and I feel that CAKE isn't always accepting of people who don't want to experiment with everything. I also agree with your (and other commenters') critiques of the language--I think it is often quite violent and potentially offensive to the queer community.
You provide a thorough summary in your response paper here; I would have liked to hear even more about what you found particularly disturbing or appealing and some thoughts on why -- e.g. in terms of the MWM and the deconstruction of labels.
Anne
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