Rape films: Authenticity and Ambiguity

 

“And most of it goes on for way too long: real people don’t have sex that vigorous for that long unless they have real issues…” (Posted on blog by felagund)

I am interested, as stated previously, in recent pornographic trends or developments.  Most specifically, my curiosity arises in relationship to those films that work to attribute sexual events an air of authenticity.  Although this is the case for most pornographic films, aruably all, I find it to be most intense in the case of ”rape films” or “snuff films.”  These films are quite chilling or sexually gratifying, depending your inclinations, because they highlight “deviant” activities that are both illegal and morally reprehensible. 

What interests me most about these films is that it is by means of the authenticity, the degrees by which the films approach the barbaric act (rape or homocide), that they are effective.  Here, the effectiveness can be measured in viewer gratification.  The films exist and proliferate because some find them pleasurable.  But it is here that there is an inherent complication.  If one is interested in the authenticity of the film, which seems to be the case with most viewers, than isn’t one breaching the very moral/ethical standards that one refuses to denigrate in everyday life?  That is, in theory, we pay taxes in order to protect our neighbors, our family, ourselves from crimes of this nature, and yet, we also take pleasure in films that we can never be quite sure whether a rape or homicide is actually occurring.  Perhaps, ambiguity provides us a certain assurance, a certain pleasure.

It seems though, in any event, that there is a means by which one can effectively use the snuff film or rape film tactic.  Perhaps, it is possible to attribute a work a similar authenticity; a productive authenticity.  It seems that there is a means of producing a text that uses authenticity to propel an intended effect.  Two questions arise.  First, how does one attribute a text authenticity?  Second, and more importantly, how does one design a text that will perpetuate an ambiguity about the authenticity?  As I stated earlier, this ambiguity seems to be an essential characteristic.

Project Notes: Masochism and the Anti-Spontaneous Body (From section two of “Feigned Spontaneity”

II. Masochism

The masochistic corporeal exists as the exemplar of delayed satisfaction, and, by means of extension, what might be considered the anti-spontaneous body.  Through the delaying of orgasmic pleasure, the pleasure afforded by ejaculation, the masochist derives satisfaction: 

“There is a desire for scientific observation, and subsequently a state of mythical contemplation.  The masochistic process of disavowal is so extensive that it affects sexual pleasure itself; pleasure is postponed for as long as possible and is thus disavowed.  The masochist is therefore able to deny the reality of pleasure at the very point of experiencing it, in order to identify with the ‘new sexless man.’” (Coldness and Cruelty 32) 

In masochistic interaction, the delaying of gratification is itself gratifying.  Here, there is a certain present pleasure.  This is not a matter of linear causality, for the masochist derives pleasure from a network of events that occur between what might be considered the beginning and concluding events.  There is, as Deleuze provocatively suggests, the occurrence of a certain satisfying suspension.  This is explicitly referenced in his arguments concerning the female that participates as torturer.  As the “woman torturer” whips the body of the male recipient, she poses intermittently.  The torturer suspends her actions briefly in order to look into a mirror.  Here, according to Deleuze, masochistic interaction is prolonged and a photograph is produced.  This continues to occur as the torturer satisfies the specific inclinations of the tortured.  This is not merely a characteristic of this form of interaction.  This suspension is itself integral to the pleasure experienced by the masochistic body: “The same scenes are reenacted as various levels in a sort of frozen progression” (33).  This repeated suspension – a succession of frozen moments – is what differentiates Masoch from Sade, and correspondingly, masochism from sadism.   

It is in the masochistic body, and the masochistic act that spontaneity is denied.  Not only is the orgasm delayed or forsaken, as the body is made to wait, but this waiting is further accentuated by the suspended movements of the torturer.  Not only is the masochistic body suggestive of the anti-spontaneity that must be attributed to Funk Night, a very similar corporeality is assumed by those that participate.  Here, the body of the individual Funk Night attendee can be described as the body of the masochist.  The attendee awaits the arrival of the next event, the next planned occurrence – the pleasurable moment – while deriving a certain pleasure in waiting.  At intermittent moments, the attendee receives messages and photographs by means of extensive network, generally composed of other attendees (friends, recent acquaintances, etc.).  It is this informational network that takes the place of Deleuze’s “woman torturer,” in interaction.  Arguably, the wait is generally more satisfying than the event itself.  At no point is this more evident than in consideration of the denial of the orgasm. 

If one returns to Deleuze’s fruitful understanding of the masochist as the “sexless man,” his analysis becomes applicable to funk night.  The attendee, again, is stimulated by the various suspensions that preclude the actual event.  Interestingly though, it is the event itself that denies gratification.  Continuing in this discourse, it becomes quite evident, that as the masochist the attendee is often denied the sexuality of orgasm.  This is not to denigrate Funk Night, for it serves an important cultural function, but rather to attribute its significance to that which precedes the event – the masochistic interplay that occurs for an attendee that experiences a continual suspension in relationship to an informational network.  Arguably, it is by means of the anti-spontaneous that pleasure is derived. 

Project Ideas/Ideals (Part infinity)

Sigil

The diagrammatic as outlined by Deleuze and Guattari:

“The diagrammatic or abstract machine does not function to represent, even something real, but rather constructs a real that is yet to come, a new type of reality.” (A Thousand Plateaus 142)

“The third component is diagrammatic: it consists in taking regimes of signs or forms of expression and extracting from them particles-signs that are no longer formalized but instead constitute unformed traits capable of combining with one another.”

As I construct the various fragments which will  eventually compose larger diagrams, I return to chapter five of A Thousand Plateaus.  Specifically, I am considering this chapter from a structural perspective.  How while I form a diagram that is effective, imaginative, provocative, and, most significantly, useful?  Shouldn’t the text/images serve a purpose beyond the informative level?  The answer seems evident already, especially in light of the conversation Professor Pruchnic and I had concerning Foucault’s texts (“Pruchnic here.  Hello Pruchnic”).  In regards to Deleuze and Guattari it seems quite evident that the diagram is inherently “combinatory.”  Here, I mean that the various pictures/mini-diagrams can and will work in conjunction with each other.  Yet, despite what the diagram already functions to provide - a system by which unformed traits extracted from particles-signs readily combine with one another – it still seems significant to recall that the relationships existing between said unformed traits must be considered thoroughly.  It seems that it is not simply enough to allow the pictures to be placed on the page together.  Diagrams of particular interest connect meaningfully or usefully.  This is where the digital asserts its significance as medium.  Interesting digital diagrams provide fruitful/useful links between various portions of the text.  It seems obvious that this can be considered the “real that is yet to come.”  Possibly this is the future-language, as Rotman suggests, an early form of Imageology, an interesting intervention on older sources, or, the force.

“The force is strong with you…”

In any event, my efforts so far have led me to consider the opportunity for layering.  This works on several levels.  First, the images will be attributed a certain texture or depth, in that I will use super imposition, and I will attribute them a certain form of tag (semantic).  Moreover, I will also work to provide as many sub-windows as possible, so that one can move from image to image, from subset to subset.  This structure will resist conventional narrative progression, in that it will allow intensities instead of an ultimate or definitive climatic experience. 

In total, the digital provides fruitful opportunities for the pursuit of the diagrammatic.  Yet, as suggested previously, it remains necessary to remember that the continuum of intensities is not chaotic; it is not without planning:

“…Continuum of intensities, combined emission of particles or signs-particles, conjunction of deterritorialized flows: these are the three factos proper to the plane of consistency; they are brought about by the abstract machine and are constitutive of destratification.  Now there is no hint in all of this of a chaotic white night or an undifferentiated black night.  There are rules, rules of “plan(n)ing,” of diagramming, as we will see later on, or elsewhere.  The abstract machine is not random; the continuities, emissions and combinations, and conjunctions do not occur in just any fashion” (70-71)

Web work

For the time being, I created a wordpress site for the project.  Hopefully, if all goes well, I will be linking from the diagram to the lengthier textual components on this site.  Please keep in mind that I am still working on them.  I plan on creating several diagrams, one of which will feature the “textual body.”  Some initial sketches of the diagrams will be available soon, though I will use photoshop to make it look much more professional. 

I am also thinking of creating a diagram relating to fashion; sort of a frame by frame progression.  Here, I want to incorporate writing concerning certain interesting isolating circumstances which occur within the collective.  In addition, I want to do an interesting map of green initiatives in Detroit.  This will be accomplished by super-imposing items (namely fruit) onto interesting street maps.  Here, the relationship to the body exists in the form of pregnancy and hunger.  Finally, I am still considering the body in conflict.  It would be interesting to consider these movements in terms of damage inflicted upon the body.  Here, I will create a map of different organs, and inflictions, and attempt to use the body in conflict as a means of approaching interesting issues.  Here, my work will form a sort of abstract medical diagram.  More specifically, I am interested in exploring anxiety/neurosis by means of the hands.  Perhaps, all of these sub-diagrams can be incorporated into one larger diagram, though I am not quite sure yet.

Dark Glasses

Click the following link to read the excerpt from A Lover’s Discourse…”Dark Glasses“

Dark Glasses

Dark Glasses (from A Lover’s Discourse – Roland Barthes)cacher / to hide

A deliberative figure: the amorous subject wonders, not whether he should declare his love to the loved being (this is not a figure of avowal), but to what degree he should conceal the turbulences of his passion: his desires, his distresses; in short, his excesses (in Racinian language:  his fureur).

 1.         X, who left for his vacation without me, has shown no signs of life since his departure: accident? post-office strike?  indifference?  distancing maneuver?  exercise of a passing impulse of autonomy (“His youth deafens him, he fails to hear”)? or simple innocence?  I grow increasingly anxious, pass through each act of the waiting-scenario.  But when X reappears in one way or another, for he cannot fail to do so (a thought which should immediately dispel any anxiety), what will I say to him?  Should I hide my distress—which will be over by then (“How are you?”)?  Release it aggressively (“That wasn’t at all nice, at least you could have . . .”) or passionately (“Do you know how much worry you have caused me?”)?  Or let this distress of mine be delicately, discreetly understood, so that it will be discovered without having to strike down the other (“I was rather concerned . . .”)?  A secondary anxiety seizes me, which is that I must determine the degree of publicity I shall give to my initial anxiety. 

2.         I am caught up in a double discourse, from which I cannot escape.  On the one hand, I tell myself: suppose the other, by some arrangement of his own structure, needed my questioning?  Then wouldn’t I be justified in abandoning myself to the literal expression, the lyrical utterance of my “passion”?  Are not excess and madness my truth, my strength?  And if this is true, this strength ultimately prevailed?But on the other hand, I tell myself:  the signs of this passion run the risk of smothering the other.  Then should I not, precisely because of my love, hide from the other how much I love him?  I see the other with a double vision: sometimes as object, sometimes as subject; I hesitate between tyranny and oblation.  Thus I doom myself to blackmail:  if I love the other, I am forced to seek his happiness; but then I can only do myself harm:  a trap:  I am condemned to be a saint or a monster:  unable to be the one, unwilling to be the other:  hence I tergiversate:  I show my passion a little. 

3.         To impose upon my passion the mask of discretion (of impassivity):  this is a strictly heroic value:  “It is unworthy of great souls to expose to those around them the distress they feel” (Clotilde de Vaux); Captain Paz, one of Balzac’s heroes, invents a false mistress in order to be sure of keeping his best friend’s wife from knowing that he loves her passionately.Yet to hide a passion totally (or even to hide, more simply, its excess)  is inconceivable:  not because the human subject is too weak, but because passion is in essence made to be seen:  the hiding must be seen:  I want you to know that I am hiding something from you, that is the active paradox I must resolve:  at one and the same time it must be known and not known:  I want you to know that I don’t want to show my feelings:  that is the message I address to the other.  Larvatus prodeo:  I advance pointing to my mask:  is set a mask upon my passion, but with a discreet (and wily) finger I designate this mask.  Every passion, ultimately, has its spectator: at the moment of his death, Captain Paz cannot keep from writing to the woman he has loved in silence:  no amorous oblation without a final theater:  the sign is always victorious. Balzac: La Fausse maitresse(Also references Descartes above) 

4.         Let us suppose that I have wept, on account of some incident of which the other has not even become aware to weep is part of the normal activity of the amorous body), and that, so this cannot be seen, I put on dark glasses to mask my swollen eyes (a fine example of denial:  to darken the sight in order not to be seen).  The intention of this gesture is a calculated one:  I want to keep the oral advantage of stoicism, of “dignity” (I take myself for Clotilde de Vaux), and at the same time, contradictorily, I want to provoke the tender question (“But what’s the matter with you?”); I want to be both pathetic and admirable, I want to be at the same time a child and an adult.  Thereby I gamble, I take a risk:  for it is always possible that the other will simply ask no question whatever about these unaccustomed glasses: that the other will see, in the fact, no sign. 

5.         In order to suggest, delicately, that I am suffering, in order to hide without lying, I shall make use of a cunning preterition:  I shall divide the economy of my signs.  The task of the verbal signs will be to silence, to mask, to deceive:  I shall never account, verbally, for the excesses of my sentiment.  Having said nothing of the ravages of this anxiety, I can always, once it has passed, reassure myself that no one has guessed anything.  The power of language:  with my language I can do everything:  even and especially say nothing.I can do everything with my language, but not with my body.  What I hide by my language, my body utters.  I can deliberately mold my message, not my voice.  By my voice, whatever it says, the other will recognize “that something is wrong with me.”  I am a liar (by preterition), not an actor.  My body is a stubborn child, my language is a very civilized adult . . . 

6.         . . . so that a long series of verbal contentions (my “politenesses”)  may suddenly explode into some generalized revulsion:  a crying jag (for instance), before the other’s flabbergasted eyes, will suddenly wipe out all the efforts (and the effects) of a carefully controlled language.  I break apart: 

Racine             Connais donc Phedre et toute sa fureur.

                        Now you know Phaedra and all her fury.

The Alphabetic Body

In “Alphabetic body,” Rotman posits that the brain of the alphabetic writer is altered dramatically.  The alphabet records what is said without suggesting the way in which it is said.  It is silent about the sound, what can be considered the prosody.  The prosodic concerns the long waves and pulsations of the larynx and lungs during speech.  This movement attributes the message a certain tone and emphasis.  With the prosodic, vocal modification is continuous.  One hears oneself speaking, and the body psyche, as a result, is assembled, invented, and created from outside of itself.  This, as Rotman argues, is the driving force in human evolution. 

One of the more significant portions of Rotman’s text deals with what he considers the “invisible effect” of the alphabet.  He argues that the alphabet institutes and perpetuates a certain dualism.  This primary dualism is the hierarchy of the mind over the body.  The result of this hierarchy is that the mind is essentially disembodied.  Since the body is disconnected from the mind, the prosodic is lost, and a strange physic entity comes into existence: “a physic entity which speaks in a voice without tone, emphasis, irony, distance from itself, humour, doubleness, affect, pain or the possibility of such things.”

On another note, throughout the text, Rotman continually references the importance of the pictorial; the significance of the image.  In the initial portion of the text, when discussing the evolution of the alphabet, Rotman suggests that the alphabet derives from Egyptian hieroglyphics.  Here, he briefly laments that the images were divorced from the characters, during its creation.  Later, in his discussion of the philosophical alphabet, Rotman suggests the importance of placing the picture back into discourse; into the philosophical text.  In this section he criticizes a long tradition of philosophical discourse which disregards the importance of the image.  In philosophical texts there is an emphasis on the ability to read a text aloud.  Rotman suggests that this excludes the pictographic, for one can’t utter an image.  Thus, philosophical texts shield themselves from a connection to the body (100).  Whereas the written word needs to be looked through, the visual necessitates that one look at it.  Here, Rotman responds with a call for a “consciously ideogrammatized text.”  This text would include symbols and diagrams.

Here, though, it is also important that one not misread Rotman’s call for the pictorial or the ideogrammatized.  Rotman is not necessarily arguing the addition of pictures at random; this is not a call for the haphazard.  It seems, instead, that he is suggesting something much more calculated.  He states that the symbols and diagrams should be, “doing philosophical work.”  The images must serve a particular function.  Furthermore, he calls for a “consciously” gesturalized text. 

On a side note: I am interested in what is signified by the ascribing of words onto the body.  The absurd party ritual of writing on the body of the person that passes out.  More on this later.

Foucault and Function

Recent discussion with Professor Pruchnic has prompted me to consider the text as it functions on two levels.  I must note, briefly, that most texts seem to function on several intersecting levels simultaneously, and that the following should not be read as ignorant of this interaction, seeing as its importance is implicit to any text.  (Note that the terminology I will use may be misleading.  The titles are not meant to define, but, rather, to suggest.)

Informational: The text can be considered, foremost, as an informational resource for the reader.  Most look to a text to inform them; to explain something that the reader didn’t know previously.  Perhaps, the text will subvert that which the reader thought that he or she knew.  One may even look to a text to reaffirm that which is already known; to gather more evidence or sources for an argument.  Such is the means by which scholarship generally proceeds.  The questions become, “what does the text tell you about the subject?” and “how does the text present this information to the reader?”  This seems to be an issue of taking the text literally.  The writer sets out with an informational objective, to explain, to confuse, to question, to argue, to criticize, etc.  This objective shapes the material within the text.

Useful Entirety: I mean, here, to discuss the text as a whole.  Whereas many texts argue a point, present the appropriate information, and suggest some conclusions or remedies, certain texts may actually exist as remedies in and of themselves.  Such is the case with Michel Foucault, as Pruchnic suggests.  Foucault attempted to design each of his works not simply to operate on the informational level, but to be useful to those in particular situations (prisoners?).  Here, the interaction of what I have hastily termed the “informational,” and the “useful entirety,” becomes interesting.  Having the goal of the useful entirety in mind, it seems that one will, inevitably, write the informational differently.  If the end objective is to assist prisoners, then one might effectively contort the text in a means intended to be more useful for them, and not necessarily the reader.  Deception?

This seems to tie in nicely with the difference existing between the Sophist and Socrates.  Whereas the Sophist appears to be selfish, he is actually selfless.  On the otherhand, Socrates, who appears to be selfless, is really only satisfying selfish motivations.  This seems overwhelmingly significant to previous discussion.  If the author has a goal in mind, he may operate as the Sophist.  Although appearing selfish, the author is really attempting to accomplish selfless objectives (Foucault?).  Conversely, the author that may appear to be selfless, in that he/she seems to be concerned with problems facing people, is really only seeking selfish gratification, in that people will perceive that they are ultimately concerned.  Thus, the text might seem concerned, and yet, fail to accomplish the objective.  The text may be inhibited by that which appears to be selfless.

Moderation (Returning to the Subtle Subversion)

Again, it seems overwhelmingly evident that this text might be misinterpreted (most specifically, in terms of what it seems to be advocating).  Although Deleuze and Guattari propose a certain deterritorialization, and the subversion of several systems (the regime of signs, semiotic systems, strata, etc.) they suggest, in specificity, the approaches which one should avoid.  Deleuze and Guattari confront the simple assumption that excess or excessive measure is the ultimate cure all.  They make it quite clear that a certain “sobriety” is required; that one operate meticulously.  To attempt to rid the body of its organs or to completely deterritorialize is to miss the point entirely.  They suggest that anarchy or “radical” subversion can actually be detrimental or problematic.  In these cases, one will likely experience a new territorialization, or even madness.

Chapter 11 – 1837: Of The Refrain

Delueze and Guattari on the contemporary “valorization of children’s drawings, texts by the mad, and concerts of noise.”  Is the “radical” really that effective (affective)?

“Sometimes one overdoes it, puts too much in, works with a jumble of lines and sounds; then instead of producing a cosmic machine capable of “rendering sonorous,” one lapses back to a machine of reproduction that ends up reproducing nothing but a scribble effacing all lines, a scramble effacing all sounds.” (344)

Chapter 6 – How Do You Make Yourself a Body Without Organs?

On attempting to create a body without organs, and ceasing to be an organism:

“And how necessary caution is, the art of dosages, since overdose is a danger.  You don’t do it with a sledgehammer, you use a very fine file.” (160)

Time and time again, Deleuze and Guattari provide valuable insight into the methodology for creating a line of flight; for allowing deterritorialization to occur; for allowing the body to become a body without organs (BwO).  Yet, despite the diversity and depth of these discussions, they repeatedly return to a more ”subtle” subversion.  Consider the image featured above.  It would be problematic to fill the glass to absurdity; to wildly destratify.  Similarly, it would be foolish to empty the glass of every drop.  Instead, what Deleuze and Guattari are emphasizing, is the necessity for understanding the relationship between “A” and “B.”  Only by researching, understanding, and working with “A” and “B” can one effectively subvert.  One must allow things to be projected along the white wall, and work within the strata.  To attempt to obliterate the letters, and their respective associations, would be to “overdose.”

Considering an Approach

“How very important it is, when chaos threatens, to draw an inflatable, portable territory.  If need be, I’ll put my territory on my own body, I’ll territorialize my body: the house of the tortoise, the hermittage of the crab, but also tattoos that make the body a territory.” (Deleuze 320)

There are many things that I must remain aware of, rather, that I am forced to remain aware of, when I consider the relationship of the body, my body, to an environment.  It will suffice, for now, to suggest a profound transition or transformation; that several unexpected anxieties have arisen relating to my body, and correspondingly, its relationship to Detroit.  The familiar and comfortable has, ultimately, been replaced by the “chaotic,” by annoyance, by frustration, by persistent anxiety.  An unraveling? There exist, for the purposes of this post, two systems or periods of interaction (this is not to suggest that there are not other systems involved):

(5 B.T. – 0 B.T.)- The former system was one of incredible comfort.  The body moved within the system without much disturbance or confrontation.  I learned, I was assured, I moved, and felt myself moving without hinderance. I studied, and slept in my vehicle, and interacted with the environment freely, almost carelessly.  Although territorialized, the body moved provocatively in relationship to what might be consider the chaotic; that which the territorialization is meant to put at a distance.

(0 B.T. -     ) Panic! Reversion. Discomfort. Struggle.  Paranoia rules all (The paranoid sees the operation of the signs in everything).  The underlying threat never really subsides.  Moments of freedom and clarity from the monotony of anxiety and restriction. The territorialization of the body is nearly absolute.  I distance myself physically. Distance propels even greater anxiety.  Deterritorialization?  I am both within Detroit, and outside of Detroit simultaneously. I consider a gradutated means of approach.  The body approaches systematically.  It moves cautiously.

The transition is confronting, and yet, compelling.  I am interested in writing/mapping this transition, with emphasis on the second period, on the second state of involvement.