Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Ruth Orkin and the Male Gaze


I was struck by this photo recently, American Girl in Italy. There was an article on its 60th birthday, and the photos subject, Ninalee Craig was offering her remembrances of the photo. The photo was taken by Ruth Orkin in Florence, Italy in 1951. The two women were both traveling through Europe by themselves and met as part of their travels. They decided to take photos capturing the experience of traveling as a single woman in Europe at the time, and thus this photo was born. Now 83, Craig is adamant that the photo is not a negative symbol of harassment, or anything in that vein saying instead, “It’s a symbol of a woman having an absolutely wonderful time!” This is a great example of the hermeneutical eyes a person brings to an image. The first time I saw the image I felt the men were a threat, though she suggests they never crossed any lines of inappropriateness. What most struck me about the photo after spending some time with it is the hermeneutical power of the male gaze.

I’m not going to delve too deeply into this concept, partially because it’s something I’m actively wrestling with. But I do want to throw it out there for conversation… The notion of the male gaze first draws on French Psychologist Jacques Lacan’s notion of “the gaze”, the realization that you are a visible object to others. The idea is that our identity and actions are partially shaped by our experience and awareness of others watching us. This also comes in to play then in critiquing visual culture, or the images that bombard us every day. British film critic and theorist Laura Mulvey used this notion of the gaze to help construct a manner of describing what she perceived to be a primarily male-centric image creating construct in film making. She suggested films are made primarily from the perspective of a male subject, which sees women as objects of desire. Thus from her perspective films tend to codify the cultural gender constructs of men as actively looking and women as being passively looked at. This is a bit of what is rolling around in my head as I look at Orkin’s image. What is of particular interest for me is the manner in which the male gaze affects, and interacts with feminine identity.

Now I know as a man I’m treading on dangerous territory broaching anything having to do with feminine identity. What do I know about that? I’ll admit I know far less than I probably should. That being said, I do want to comment on what I perceive to be the influence the male gaze has on identity in both masculine and feminine circles. I find Craig’s commentary on the different reactions she gets to the photograph from men and women telling. She says, “Men who see the picture always ask me: Was I frightened? Did I need to be protected? Was I upset? They always have a manly concern for me. Women, on the other hand, look at that picture, and the ones who have become my friends will laugh and say, ‘Isn’t it wonderful? Aren’t the Italians wonderful? ... They make you feel appreciated!” Her experience is that men are concerned (perhaps because they best know dark potential of the male gaze) and women can tend to appreciate the experience of being the object of the gaze. It seems to me that the different reactions from men and women reveal something of the affects of the gaze. I’m not sure I’m prepared to go further than that right now, but I’m becoming increasingly aware of the eyes I’m prompted to look through when viewing images in film, TV, photography and online.

Of course this is an entirely anecdotal observation from one woman, but I think we, particularly those who are Christians and believe that men and women are both created in the image of God, ought to be mindful of how the simple perspective of the images that surround us affect our experience of being the image of God. Did God create women to be the passive objects of the male gaze? Theologically I would strongly lean toward “No” on that answer, however I must confess that sadly my actions, and the actions of those Christians around me reveal no strong inclination to be critical of or even aware this construct. Perhaps this will help with the awareness side of that equation. Anyone want to join me in the attempt to push back?

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Ryan Lizza, Michele Bachmann and the Francis Schaeffer I Know


Each generation of the church in each setting has the responsibility of communicating the gospel in understandable terms, considering the language and thought-forms of that setting. – Francis Schaeffer

Ryan Lizza’s recent The New Yorker article chronicling the evolution of Minnesota Representative and Presidential candidate Michelle Bachmann’s thought and faith as they relate both to her private person and to her actions in the public arena of politics reveals her strong and foundational affinity for evangelist, apologist and theologian Francis Schaeffer. Not so coincidentally (I am writing about this…) I to share a strong and foundational affinity with Mr. Schaeffer. I was struck though by the different shapes our respective affinities have taken; and even though I believe Schaeffer becomes distorted when seen through Mr. Lizza’s eyes (he suggests Schaeffer advocated the violent overthrow of the government, which I have a hard time finding in his writings), his article reveals something of the tension within Schaeffer’s thought, and by extension within much Evangelical thought, and reveals some of Evangelicalism’s imperfections in the process, which I would like to sift through, consider and perhaps offer a suggestion or two on some Schaefferian means (as seen through my eyes) to wrestle with them.

I was introduced to Francis Schaeffer while attending an Evangelical college in the early 90’s. We read his book How Should We Then Live? as a part of “Western Man” (the course’s title) which was a World History course. It was fascinating reading for me. He made connections between culture and theology that resonated with my spirituality at the time, and put into words thoughts I had not been able to articulate. I came to the book as a lover of the arts, primarily music and film at the time, though from a background that viewed the arts with great suspicion. He took the arts seriously, respecting them as valuable in and of themselves, and as a window into understanding culture, philosophy and theology. In addition in his book Art and the Bible he chides the Evangelical Church for its latent Platonism, valuing the spiritual over the physical. He instead suggests that the two (the spiritual and physical) make up one whole reality, thus their interpenetration must become a core assumption in order to understand the fullness of a person. Because of this the physical and therefore the arts have value theologically. Schaeffer pointed me down the road I’ve traveled to play in the intersection of theology and the arts.

There is however the other side of Schaeffer, the one that grows out of that last set of ideas that not only values the physical world of the arts, but also values the culture that produces them, and believes that culture should fully reflect what he would call a “Biblical Worldview”. This is the Schaeffer Mr. Lizza suggests Mrs. Bachmann, and much of Evangelicalism has embraced, and the truth is, in spite of the distortions in Mr. Lizza’s understanding of Shaeffer’s means of accomplishing this end, he’s right about his basic assertion. Lizza uses the label “Dominionism” to describe their position, suggesting that Evangelicals who hold to Schaeffer’s ideas believe that Christians are expected to shape and mold the secular cultural and political institutions so that they embody the “true truth” (Schaeffer’s description) of the Bible. And here we reveal the tension I wrote of earlier.

Schaeffer wants to respect and value the arts and culture as expressions of the “mannish-ness of man” (Schaeffer’s description) but at the same time wants to shape them so that they embody the truth found in the Bible, which is a fine goal. Folks with dearly held beliefs tend to articulate strong critiques of culture and politics and seek to shape them to more closely resemble those beliefs. The issue of tension here within Schaeffer’s framework is that Schaeffer seems to want to travel down two mutually divergent roads. He seems to want to take New York Yankee Catcher Yogi Berra’s advice and upon coming to the fork in the road, take it. At one end of the tension is the absolute belief in the absolute truth of God as revealed through the Bible calling it, “the absolute infallible Word of God.” At the other end of this tension is the call for the Christian to love those around them in a self gifting, self sacrificial manner. At this end Schaeffer acknowledges, “Biblical orthodoxy without compassion is surely the ugliest thing in the world.” The article tends to assert that Schaeffer’s followers, and perhaps Schaeffer himself tend to tip the scale, weighing truth as more valuable than love. Granted Schaeffer suggests the emphasis on truth is loving, writing, “Truth always carries with it confrontation. Truth demands confrontation; loving confrontation nevertheless.” From this perspective it’s unloving to abandon people, through apathy, lethargy or fear to untruth. It’s clear, given the existence of this tension that Schaeffer himself wrestled to balance these apparently competing interests. So let’s do a little (very little given the brevity of the blog) wrestling ourselves.

If one holds that both sides of this tension are equally valuable, which I believe Schaeffer would, then the question becomes one of means as opposed to motivation. One would have to unwaveringly hold to this absolute truth while actively and imitatively embodying that truth in the love of God revealed through Jesus Christ, essentially recreating the Incarnation. Jesus simultaneously through both words and actions revealed and embodied the truth and heart of the Father. It seems that Mr. Lizza, and by extension others in the culture, see only the propositions of truth and not the divine heart of love when viewing Mr. Schaeffer and Mrs. Bachmann. Granted some of that vision comes and goes with faith; however this article begs the question of whether Schaeffer (the theologian/evangelist/apologist) or Bachmann (the politician) were or are, “communicating the gospel in understandable terms, considering the language and thought-forms of that setting.” I would humbly suggest that they fell and continue to fall short here given their emphasis on the propositional side of truth. The gospel is more than a set of facts or principals. To articulate the propositions of truth without embodying them in the actions of self gifting love distorts them, making them exactly what Schaeffer called them, “the ugliest thing in the world.” The understandable terms that communicate to this generation must include both.

Monday, August 8, 2011

Anakin Skywalker, Darth Vader, and Samson: The Blog I Didn't Write


Have you ever seen something that wasn’t there? You know, you see something out of the corner of your eye, perhaps a face outside your window, and think, “What IS that?” and when you turn for a double take you see it’s just the leaves on the tree. Well, that’s a great metaphor for my experience trying to write this particular blog entry. I thought I saw something, but upon further review, it just wasn’t what I thought it was. Let me back up a bit and walk through how I arrived at this place of suspicion.

A few weeks ago while listening to a sermon on Samson, the really strong guy from the book of Judges, I was struck by what I thought were really strong parallels between Samson’s story and the over-arching Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader narrative told over the course of all six Star Wars films. (Yes this is the type of stuff that crosses my mind during sermons… welcome to my world.) In both cases there were prophecies concerning their lives. For Samson it was that he would be a Nazirite and deliver his people from the Philistines and for Anakin the prophecy was that he would bring balance to the Force. As they grew they were both set apart for service, for Samson as a Nazirite and for Anakin as Jedi. They both embody a certain impetuousness and impulsiveness. Both are often more likely to behave how they wished then how they ought. They both fly into murderous rages, slaughtering large numbers of people, Samson with the Philistines and the jawbone of an ass, and Anakin with the Tusken Raiders and of course his lightsaber and the Force. They both suffer disabling injuries because of their poor decisions. Samson has his eyes gouged out, and Anakin lost his legs and arm and was badly burned. Finally they both end up fulfilling the prophecies told of them through their respective somewhat self-sacrificial deaths. Slam dunk right? It’s obvious George Lucas was just retelling Samson’s story through Darth Vader. A younger version of me might have seen these intriguing parallels and run with it, but after a second look I just couldn’t justify that strong a relationship between the two.

Granted there are undeniable parallels here; however upon further review there is perhaps as much Faust or Hercules as there is Samson in Vader. For that matter the ancient stories, events and mythologies that pre-date the record of Samson’s exploits in Judges may have had an influence on the shape the telling of Samson’s story takes. The point being that every story or narrative borrows from and is in conversation with the stories and narratives that surround it and precede it. To quote Solomon, generally credited as the writer of Ecclesiastes, “There is nothing new under the sun.” To suggest that Vader’s story IS a spot on retelling of Samson’s just doesn’t do either justice. Interestingly, it seems to me that the core of the parallels between the two characters lies in the flawed, self-absorbed nature of their temperaments. Granted there are plot parallels as well, but they might not seem so analogous without the personal similarity.

At any rate, I wanted to share my thought process and suggest that seeing the similarities and analogies that live in the stories all around us as they converse with both contemporary and historical narratives including scripture is, I believe, helpful and necessary to building appropriate hermeneutical contexts as we try to make sense of them. I also wanted to suggest caution in that process when the desire to find allegorical parallels instead of analogous ones presents itself. Allegory may be a helpful tool in the belt of pedagogy, but it can greatly curtail the larger narrative conversation. With that said, any interesting narrative parallels that jump out to you that you’d like to share?