Liz Everly's Blog, page 134
February 11, 2014
Are Non-Smoking Bad Boys Still Bad?
Tough, gritty, and deliciously bad, no cigarette needed.
Let’s say someone tells you to picture a bad boy. What comes to mind? For me it’s a mixture of the following: tattooes, silver chains hanging from the pockets (purpose unknown), riders of bad-ass motorcycles, occasional scrapes with the law, listeners of hard rock, swillers of alcohol, kickers of ass. But what about a cigarette hanging from the lip or casually dangling between the fingers? When I was in school bad boys were always smokers. Not to smoke was not to be cool, and bad boys are definitely, unequivocally cool. So cool your parents warned you within inches of your life to stay far far away. But what about nowadays? The recent announcement by CVS drugstores to phase out all tobacco products highlights the global decline of smoking. Yet I wonder. Can a bad boy who doesn’t smoke still be bad?
I’m reading a dystopian erotic romance, the “Beyond” series by Kit Rocha. This series is chock full of bad boys – and bad girls, for that matter – surviving and thriving in a dog-eat-dog world where today’s rules don’t apply. It’s gritty and sexy and exciting and I’m really loving the series. Yet here’s the thing – not only does the bad-ass bad boy leader smoke, but so, too, does practically everyone else in his posse. The characters are the wild and scary types who command respect the second they step into a room or else beat the crap out of anyone casting them a jeering eye. They’ve got tattooes a’plenty, fight in cages for fun, have lots of group sex, and they smoke. It seems to me that if you omit that last part you’d still have a pleasingly scary dude, so why include it? Is smoking still one of those required “props,” for lack of a better word, without which a bad boy’s badness takes a dive?
Here’s another consideration: is it possible for badness to be redefined? Imagine this scenario: you’re reading a romance in which the bad boy is a committed vegan, loves to swing dance, and can embroider sweaters like nobody’s business. But he’s had scrapes with the law and boasts some wicked ink on both arms. He doesn’t smoke and prefers classical music to rock. Could the inclusion of just a couple bad ass elements be enough to give this character official bad boy status?
There’s ongoing finger wagging directed at Hollywood for the inclusion of smoking in so many films. Impressionable youth who view movies look up to their silver screen idols and emulate their every move. If that includes smoking, so goes the thinking, then kids will be lighting up. I’d venture to guess that, if pressed, those in the film biz would say they need to include characters who smoke, in some instances anyway, because they’ve got to come across as tough or gritty or edgy or non-law abiding and a cig in hand goes right along with the image. So if Hollywood includes cigs as part of the bad boy appearance, and some romance authors do as well, what are the chances that that part of the persona can be redefined?
A lot of bad boy elements are equated with things illegal. Underage drinking, speeding, brushes with the law. Cigarettes fit in there as well – if you’re under eighteen (or under 21 in a couple of states). The thing is, though, that adult-level romance characters are generally older than that. So what is it about those smokes that transform a clean, nice boy into heart-pounding badness?
What do you think? Do you need a truly bad boy to be smokin’ or tokin’? Let us know what you think in the comments below. And don’t forget to follow us at Lady Smut. We won’t just blow smoke up your . . . well . . . you know. 
Five Funny Men who “Tickle” My Funny Bone (or make me laugh and I might f–k you)
by Liz Everly
Much can be said about what attracts one person to another. Physique. Intellect. Kindness. And so on. All of those ingredients are important. But for me, what sends me over the top is a guy that can make me laugh. My first husband was one of the funniest men I’ve ever met. My current husband is also very funny in a completely different way (of course, honey, in case you are reading). And most of the men in my life have been extremely funny.
And here’s the thing: I think most women would agree about this. Laughter and humor may be more important that ANY of that other stuff. May be.
I don’t know if men consider it as important as we do. That’s something to think about.
I posed the question on Facebook. One woman said she likes a man who challenges her intellectually. Another one likes a man who is not afraid of doing dishes. I say yes to both of those things–but a big yes to laughter.
In the mean time, I’ve come up with a list of funny men that get my wheels turning–in more than one way.
Jerry Seinfeld. I spent every Thursday night with him for years. And yes, I want more.
Russel Brand. What a hottie. And a bit of a rebel. I totally dig his accent.
Nothing like a rebel baby.
Jon Stewart. The only man who can keep me up at night. (Other than my husband, of course.)
A young Gene Wilder.
Sexy, just plain sexy.
Seth Meyers.
So cute, though he looks a bit naughty, wouldn’t you say? Grin.
And speaking of naughty, my very naughty SAFFRON NIGHTS is marked down to $1.99 on B &N and Apple. I’m celebrating by giving away 3 copies to commenters today who want their copies from either one of those places. Who are your favorite comics? What makes you laugh?
February 9, 2014
Sex After Kids
Intimacy and romance are rarely, if ever, the same thing. Every couple with children has horror stories about the unromantic struggle to juggle an intimate sexual life with the time demands and new responsibilities of mommy and daddyhood. There’s not a lot of sexy that comes covered in baby spittle.
Welcome to the new independent Canadian film Sex After Kids.
Written and directed by Jeremy LaLonde and produced by LaLonde and Jennifer Liao (and successfully co-funded through an indigogo crowd-sourcing campaign), Sex After Kids takes an ensemble of loosely interconnected characters in various stages and states of marriage after having children. The empty-nesters who Google porn videos for fresh ideas with which to rejuvenate their sex life. The single, horny mom (Zoie Palmer) whose eager honesty and unfiltered mania scare away even the most willing sexual deviants. The single playa dad (Kris Holden-Rid) who cringes when a girlfriend calls him “daddy” during sex. The TV star (Amanda Brugel) who’s happily settled into Momdom (mostly) but whose husband (Peter Keleghan) no longer finds her attractive as he longs for the slim, sexy woman he married. The lesbian couple (Mary Krohnert and Kate Hewlett) trying to mesh different parenting styles and not talk about why it matters who actually gave birth to their child. And the young marrieds (Ennis Esmer and Shannon Beckner) who haven’t had sex in a year but only one of them misses it.
The broadly drawn character lines may hint of obvious strokes, but the raw honesty of their predicaments shine through every scene thanks to the engaging and fully game cast and a script that doesn’t shy from uncomfortably real moments. In the Q&As following the film’s several festival runs, LaLonde has said how every situation onscreen actually happened to one of the cast or crew and all the actors (most of whom have young children) were invited to collaborate with their own experiences trying to have sex after kids. That sense of the genuine permeates every frame.
Charming, honest, touching, poignant, and deeply funny, at its heart Sex After Kids is about being lonely, both in and out of marriage, not just for sex but for connection, friendship, and love, and the lengths people will go—from an inopportunely lost contact lens to hormonal odors that violently douse arousal to the mechanics of sex on a schedule to failing to succeed even with a sexually deviant hook up—to reclaim that happiness…and get laid.
Sex After Kids releases in movie theaters across Canada throughout February and in the United States this spring via video on demand.
An Open Letter from Alexa Day on Buying Your Honey a Valentine’s Sex Toy
Gentlemen:
It’s come to my attention that some of you have not yet purchased a Valentine’s Day gift for your ladies. I think most of you are making plans instead of exchanging gifts. I know that some of you think you don’t have to do anything. Last year, I wrote an open letter about why it’s not a good idea to skip the holiday altogether; you might want to have a look at that.
If you’re one of our frequent male visitors, though, my guess is that you’re having a slightly different problem. You might be looking for that perfect gift. Something you’re not seeing on television all the time. Something your girl hasn’t already seen over and over again from other dudes.
You know what you could get her? You could get her a sex toy.
But how to choose? It’s tough enough to find a sex toy for one’s own use, isn’t it?
I just want to give you some things to think about before you rush out.
Your primary consideration when you go to purchase the toy should be whether it will make your girl dissolve into mindless waves of pleasure. If she’s toy-shy, as a shocking number of women are, an expertly wielded feather toy might do the job. A gorgeous blindfold also makes an excellent beginner sex toy. If you know your lady has more than a passing acquaintance with technology, your job picks up some subtle nuances.
Light as a feather … stiff as a board. Heh heh heh. (Image by Hariadhi)
This is not the time to use your tool as a yardstick to determine what size toy to purchase. Your dick shouldn’t really enter into the equation unless it’s going to enter the toy. So don’t get that insertable toy that’s bigger than you are because you’re thinking that if she’s into you, she’ll really be into something bigger than you. I hate to break it to you guys, but if we’re in a serious relationship with you, your dick size is more of a fringe benefit to us. When we’re in bed with you, we’re with you. That’s not to say size doesn’t matter, of course. I’m just saying that as we grow closer together, it’s not the deal-breaker so many of you seem to think it is.
Having said that, I know that some guys (not you, of course; I mean other guys), delirious with fear that their girlfriends would prefer the toy to them, would buy something significantly smaller than they are. That sort of strategy isn’t all that subtle, friend. We sense insecurity. We know when it’s guiding your decisions. We really don’t like it when that means we’re getting the shaft – or more importantly, not getting it – in bed. So unless you want to explain to a doctor how that dildo got all the way up your nose, you probably don’t want to shortchange us. Like I said, we’re not fixated on the size of your dick once we’re serious about you, and we don’t care much for the implication that your length and girth are all we care about.
My advice to you, gentlemen, is to duck the insertable toy altogether. Consider something intended for couples, like the vibrating cock ring. Have a look at the very friendly toys in our Lady Smut reviews. If you just can’t say no to the insertable, why take chances? Get something that’s about the size of a toy she has and enjoys now. The well chosen toy will be your ally in bed. It’s intended to work with you, not for you and certainly not instead of you.
You do need to get a move on, though. Crunch time ended on Friday. This is now the last minute.
So take a second to think of what pleases your woman most. Think about what sort of toy will get her more of that. Then get out there, man. You’re burning daylight.
And make sure you get batteries. Seriously, brother, that’s just common courtesy.
Wishing you a Valentine’s Day that soars up into a thousand shuddering twinkly starbursts over and over and over again,
Alexa
p.s.: I know you’re the kind of guy who follows Lady Smut already, right? Because we’re looking out for the men, too, you know.
February 7, 2014
Sexy Saturday Round-Up
Photo by Dollen.
Hello, Sexy! We’ve got some great blog posts for you to read this week. Interested in orgasms, anybody? We’ve got two interesting posts just about orgasms. yes, that’s right. Plus, so much more. Take a look!
From Liz:
What makes a romance novel?
The different levels of orgasm. (Yes, you read that right.)
Does a more equal marriage mean less sex? The New York Times weighs in with a lengthy but fascinating article.
From Elizabeth:
55 health reasons to have orgasms (and the more the merrier!)
Sexy? Weird? Somewhere inbetween? A coen naked yoga studio opens in NYC.
The ultimate place to publish fan fiction. Amazon’s new Kindle Worlds.
The crazy things people assume about those who practice kink.
From C. Margery Kempe:
Where is publishing going? An insider makes guesses.
Social media is a conversation, not a press release.
The links between the recession and divorce.
Why dressing your daughter in pink is bad for the economy (go gender neutral!)
From Madeline:
18th century porn. Notice all the ugly guys staring at the female hoo-ha. This was arousing?
Science facts: Women see in handsomeness endurance and speed. (This article mentions several cyclists–I’ve posted their photos down below with their names so you can see their attractiveness rankings.
The age old question: spit or swallow?
Stay Hungry,
Liz
P.S. You don’t want to miss a post do you? then hit the subscribe button. You know you want to!
RANKINGS OF CYCLISTS BY BRITISH WOMEN IN TERMS OF ATTRACTIVENESS:
1 Amael Moinard
2 Yann Huguet
3 maxime monfort
4 Andriy Grivko
5 Michael Schar
6 Martin Velits
7 Christophe Riblon
8 adam hansen
9 Rui Alberto Costa
10 Manuel Quinziato
Getting Medieval on Love
The lyf so short, the craft so long to lerne…
You know the drill: hearts, flowers, chocolates. Great if you’re in a relationship, but often not so great if you’re not. Many a lonely soul on Valentine’s Day wonders: How did all this insanity get started?
Well, you can blame the Middle Ages for a lot of it. Sure, St. Valentine himself was really a third century Roman martyr, clubbed to death and then beheaded (not a propitious start for the holiday, eh?). The holiday itself, however, got going only when Geoffrey Chaucer set his poem The Parliament of Fowls on that day.
The dreaming narrator, who’s fallen asleep reading Scipio’s book on dreaming (!), finds Scipio leading him through Venus’ temple. On the walls are the stories of suffering lovers and the acolytes of the goddess gather near. The dreamer, who claims to be ignorant of the ways of love apart from what he’s read, observes closely the birds who are gathered there before the noble goddess Nature herself:
For this was on seynt Valentynes day,
Whan every foul cometh ther to chese his make (“mate”)
The birds are all arrayed by rank, each with its kind whether sparrow or duck or robin. They have to take turns, starting at the top. At the center of the gathering are three eagles vying for the hand of the most lovely eagle perched on Nature’s own hand. Each of the three tries to prove he is the most worthy. They speak as if they were courtly lovers, another medieval tradition.
Medieval folks weren’t prudes.
“Courtly Love” is where we get a lot of the exaggerated traditions of this holiday like gift giving and extravagant gestures to prove one’s ardour. A satirical work by Andreas Capellanus in the twelfth century nonetheless proved popular in romances (originally a word that meant “adventures”). The Art of Courtly Love offers the following rules for lovers, some of which highlight the exaggerated nature of this trend for romance among the wealthy and mostly idle rich who had time for these elaborate artifices:
1. Marriage is no real excuse for not loving.
2. He who is not jealous cannot love.
3. No one can be bound by a double love.
4. It is well known that love is always increasing or decreasing.
5. That which a lover takes against his will of his beloved has no relish.
6. Boys do not love until they arrive at the age of maturity.
7. When one lover dies, a widowhood of two years is required of the survivor.
8. No one should be deprived of love without the very best of reasons.
9. No one can love unless he is impelled by the persuasion of love.
10. Love is always a stranger in the home of avarice.
11. It is not proper to love any woman whom one should be ashamed to seek to marry.
12. A true lover does not desire to embrace in love anyone except his beloved.
13. When made public love rarely endures.
14. The easy attainment of love makes it of little value; difficulty of attainment makes it prized.
15. Every lover regularly turns pale in the presence of his beloved.
16. When a lover suddenly catches sight of his beloved his heart palpitates.
17. A new love puts to flight an old one.
18. Good character alone makes any man worthy of love.
19. If love diminishes, it quickly fails and rarely revives.
20. A man in love is always apprehensive.
21. Real jealousy always increases the feeling of love.
22. Jealousy, and therefore love, are increased when one suspects his beloved.
23. He whom the thought of love vexes, eats and sleeps very little.
24. Every act of a lover ends with in the thought of his beloved.
25. A true lover considers nothing good except what he thinks will please his beloved.
26. Love can deny nothing to love.
27. A lover can never have enough of the solaces of his beloved.
28. A slight presumption causes a lover to suspect his beloved.
29. A man who is vexed by too much passion usually does not love.
30. A true lover is constantly and without intermission possessed by the thought of his beloved.
31. Nothing forbids one woman being loved by two men or one man by two women.
How many would you agree to? How many seem neurotic? How many remain staples of romantic writing? I always ask my students these questions and I’m surprised how many of the “romantic” notions they still cling to yet. (I really need to write that book on how medieval our notions of love are…)
Oh, and what happened with the three eagles? They all take so long trying to prove their worth that the other birds get impatient. When Nature asks them to choose the best, even they can’t agree. Finally, she asks the female eagle to make her choice, but the blushing maiden asks for another year to make up her mind. Nature agrees and the rest of the birds choose their mates in a noisy confusion and the dreamer wakes up, determined to read more about love.
Sometimes that’s easier than braving the wild waters of the real thing!
Sign up to follow the Lady Smut crew so you don’t have to go it alone.
[My alter ego has also posted this in a slightly amended form over at Medium]
February 6, 2014
Blissed Out: Bedded Bliss, A Couple’s Guide to Lust Ever After
by Madeline Iva
Before talking about this new book BEDDED BLISS from Cleis Press and edited by Kristina Wright, I wanted to say something about this OTHER work I read recently –
In the OTHER work I read, a woman hid her erotic books from her husband, who suspected she was hiding something–like an affair. Then they had an agonizing drama as they made various mis-assumptions about what was going on, until finally they sat down and had a horribly awkward conversation about her book collection and how she was wanted sex like this, and this, and this from the various BDSM books she liked best. (Imagine flipping the premise and a husband who stops hiding his collection of smexy says to the wife: okay, I want to do this this and this–pointing to the various BDSM photos. Hmmm.) It’s a story about a couple’s horrible communication skills, if nothing else.
While I really appreciate THAT author’s need to liberate women out there in the heart land–I was expecting a romance. This OTHER work was NOT a romance—although it was marketed as one. After making a number of pterodactyl noises, I threw it at the wall, waking my husband next to me who muttered What? What? What?
BEDDED BLISS is not romance either – but it’s not trying to be. It’s the Joy of Sex with stories instead of illustrations. The book starts without assuming that anything is wrong in the first place with your sex life or each other–as many other books do. The title, the cover, and back blurb make clear it’s a guide, and a source of inspiration all rolled into one. It uses imagination and voice to express female monogamous desire, sexual wants, and urges. And then…you know. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.
Charlotte Stein knows all about restraint, and when to abandon it.
For instance, Charlotte Stein’s story is the voice of a woman discussing her husband in those moments where her ‘filthy’ urges are at their strongest. Oh and there’s also men writing in this collection from the male point of view. Plus as an added bonus there are sensual suggestions for each chapter.
I think the concept for the book is spot on. As romance authors, we’re in the job of providing easy emotional catharsis for our readers. We’re writing sex in the way we want it: safe, gratifying, grunty-hard, and yet also romantic — but I think–couples who read together aside–most women to enjoy *ahem* reading erotic romance and erotica in private.
That’s as it should be, some would say–and more power to you all who do so. There’s nothing I enjoy more about this world of romance than the spread of sexual gratification across our beautiful land.
Yet one doesn’t want a certain schism to creep in—a schism wherein sex with oneself and a book by (fill in the blank here) is far better than sex with your ever-lovin’ partner.
After all, while I like to read Shoshanna Evers, and she may be a great erotic writer, I’m not in a relationship with her, am I? Maybe the best sex you have should be with your partner and not a three way between you, Maya Banks, and Mr. Buzzy if you see what I mean?
Thus—Bedded Bliss is an attempt, I would say, to restore the orgasmic balance in a woman’s life. It’s definitely an invitation for partners to join in, and share fantasies that turn you on, (because if you’re turned on then your man will be turned on as well, slut that he is.) And maybe what turns you on are guys who like giving women oral or at least stories about guys who like giving women oral. I’m looking at you Christopher Cole. ;>
BEDDED BLISS is a book, in short, to help get some conversation going.
Which is not easy. Oh, I’m not saying the man in your life won’t be interested in the book. Far from it. I couldn’t get my hands on my copy for weeks because my husband bogarted it as soon as it came in the mail.
But getting him to talk about it was nigh impossible.
After reclaiming possession of the book, I tried.
What did you think?
It had a lot of short stories in it.
Okay – and????
I don’t like short stories.
Sigh.
Don’t get me wrong–I’m not saying that guys are deliberately being difficult to talk to when it comes to discussing sex. I think it’s just a biological thing. Like the more you talk about sex to a man, or the more he is thinking about sex as you talk to him, the more his eyes open up wide, (or squinch tight) and those areas of his brain that involve analysis, articulation, and verbal expression just pop off one by one. Evolutionarily I’d guess that the men who shut up and nodded a lot when the possibility of sex appeared probably got more of the nasty than guys who yammered on about football scores. Thus the universal expressions of his pleasure–those almost Shakespearean expressions of poetry and beauty–take the limited form of Oh baby. Oh…yeah. Mmm.
Not that women are much better. God, yes, yes, yes, harder, oh God! is not much of an improvement. And we are socialized to think that wanting filthy grunty sweaty sex makes us whores. 
So, really, anything that helps foster good couples communication is great. Because (in my humble experience) great communication often leads to great sex.
Christine D’Abo is one to watch in the erotic romance world.
That said, there are some excellent candid essays about sex and fun sensual exercises included in every chapter of BEDDED BLISS. Myself, I was excited to see Charlotte Stein’s work included. I’ll read anything she writes and be slaveringly happy. The book also has some writing by Christine D’Abo and a fun handful of some other familiar names.
The nasty secret is that men can be quite touchy and sensitive talking about how they perform. So talking specifically about your own sex life can be quite tricky. This book gives you something else to point at and say: That. Yes, please. It starts out slowly, and addresses some challenges couples face, including the post-baby thing, age, and stressful times in a relationship.
I suspect that it’s easier to use as a guide than pointing at your fav sex scene in a book where the guy has a ten and a half inch willy and is Count Dred, a deathless Nascar vampire clone from Planet DoMe. (After all, we may relish this cray-cray stuff, but it’s hard for a guy to pay attention to the specific kind of sex in a scene when he’s rolling his eyes constantly.) With BEDDED BLISS your partner can turn to another page and say well how about that?
With it’s soft n pretty looks that are appropriate for almost any bedroom book shelf, I’d definitely recommend this book as a slammin’ Valentine’s Day gift (9 days and counting, people.)
It’s an especially great gift if combined with that other precious commodity in couple’s lives –enough alone time to try it out.
February 4, 2014
Screw Jogging – I’m Gonna Sexercise
I live in a cold climate. Not as cold as where I was born and raised, but damn cold enough. Over the past few weeks it’s been single digits in the morning and at six a.m., it’s still dark. So what do I find myself doing? Taking a plunge in hell, as far as I’m concerned, because I’m out there jogging. It’s freezing, it’s dark, and I’m miserable. It’s enough to make me ditch my hopes for health and tear open a jumbo bag of Cheetos. But not so fast! I just learned there’s a better way to stay fit, a way that not only gives stamina on the track, but stamina in the sack. I’m talking about sexercise.
We all know that there are plenty of exercises that mimic sex moves and that they’ve been around for quite awhile. Pole dancing, belly dancing, the porn star workout. But sexercise, according to trainer Jason Rosell, is designed around increasing stamina in the areas you’ll need to keep going all night long.
According to Rosell, people who aren’t in shape get tired after only four to eight minutes of intercourse. Say it isn’t so! But getting your fitness level up via sexercise will make a marathon session of the missionary mambo as easy as a walk in the park. In his workout, Rosell stresses things like deep squats (for ladies who like it on top, or so he claims), and exercises for strengthening your core so you can “pull him in deeper.” Um, yeah.
If you’re wondering just how sexy sexercising can be, check out Jason’s YouTube video, where he and fellow sexy workout buddies, who all look like they’re on the verge of mind-blowing orgasms, urge you in breathy voices to go “in and out and breathe.” Oh my.
Getting all sweaty and panting seems preferable to piling on layers and layers of clothing to run outside in the frozen tundra, but does it really work? Would a person burn more calories sexercising than, say, simply having sex? Rosell doesn’t note exactly how many calories are burned during a half hour sexercising session, but according to a recent article in the U.K.-based Daily Mail, an hour making love burns approximately the same amount of calories as a half hour jog. Hmmm. That’s interesting. But what if you’re not currently enjoying such regular late-night activity? Hey, we’re all busy and sometimes we just need our rest. On such occasions, it seems to me like you may need to supplement your sex with some sexercise.
What if, however, all of that thrusting and grinding just isn’t your thing (in public, anyway) but you’re all for sweating away unwanted pounds? Perhaps Bikram yoga could be the answer. Stretch and find your inner core inside a room that’s over 100 degrees. Practice your breathing and build your strength. That all sounded pretty good until I read that the founder of Bikram yoga is currently being investigated for allegations of sexually assaulting women who had attended his yoga training camps. Yikes. In the end, maybe I’ll just have to stick with jogging after all (sigh). That, or give in to the Cheetos.
What do you think? Are you up for some sexercising? Let us know your thoughts and don’t forget to get your daily reading exercise in here at Lady Smut.
February 3, 2014
Hiatus
By Liz Everly
I’m off this week due to some pressing business for my other writing self.
Check out some of my previous blog posts and don’t forget to subscribe to Lady Smut. C’mon. You know you want to….
Photo by Suran.
Stay Hungry,
Liz
February 2, 2014
When It’s Not About Sex
by Kiersten Hallie Krum
We’re a sex-positive culture here at Lady Smut (in case the name itself wasn’t your first clue.) I believe it’s equally important to discuss the abuses of sex when and where appropriate. This is why I’ve decided to use my weekly slot to highlight and discuss the firestorm that ignited this weekend with the publication of Dylan Farrow’s open letter on the New York Times.
At this time, I’d like to give all readers a trigger warning about the discussion in this post and the contents of the links included. It’s heart-breaking, horrible stuff but if Dylan Farrow can find the courage to discuss it publicly in what is arguably the largest English-speaking newspaper in the world, we can do it too.
An Open Letter From Dylan Farrow
When I first re-posted this letter on The Twitter this weekend, a friend posited that naysayers have to assume she’s lying because otherwise how could such a story be possible? I responded that it’s a deep-rooted misogyny that comes out when women dare challenge the mythos of powerful men. “This man is my idol; I could not idolize a man who would do such things, ergo this woman must be lying, the bitch.” I say this even though many of Dylan Farrow’s most vocal prominent attackers are women who are close to Woody Allen, then and now, as though they somehow gain credence in their defense of him by nature of their gender. Misogyny and rape culture aren’t responses or mindsets limited to men, unfortunately, but rather a cultural disease tied (though not exclusively) to the cult of celebrity that events like this or the Steubenville rapes call into the spotlight.
It’s not really about sex, is it? As is always the case when discussing rape or rape culture, it’s about power. Sex is merely the tool by which that power is abusively enacted on a victim, first by the abuser and then by the culture that perpetuates the abuse by giving the victim’s validity an inverse relationship to the prominence and value of her attacker.
Dylan Farrow’s story is rooted in events that happened more than 20 years ago when she was a seven-year-old child, events detailed in a Vanity Fair feature on Mia Farrow from 1992 (!).
It took me several hours to get through that Vanity Fair piece. I had to intermittently go troll cat videos to clear the foulness from my brain. All of it has come to prominence again as Woody Allen recently received a Lifetime Achievement Award at the 2014 Golden Globes. Nicholas Kristof, the Times Op-Ed columnist who featured Dylan Farrow’s open letter on his blog this weekend, frames the timing of her courageous action in his accompanying piece.
God save us, there’s been a host of ugly attacks against Dylan Farrow and in favor of Woody Allen in the insuring hours and days since Dylan’s letter went live. Woody Allen himself posted a rebuttal and the Daily Beast has also reportedly posted a defense up on his behalf. I say reportedly as I’ve read neither of them, nor dare I even skim the more than 2,000 comments posted on Dylan’s letter. Instead I read an intelligent, eloquent piece that says so many important truths, I wanted to quote the entire thing in 140 character bites.
We talk about presumed innocence, but in rape cases alone does that mentality automatically undermine the victim’s veracity. No one doubts when someone gets robbed; the question is about who robbed them. When a woman (or a man) is raped, presuming the innocence of the accused automatically implies the victim is lying.
But “he said, she said” doesn’t resolve to “let’s start by assume she’s lying,” except in a rape culture, and if you are presuming his innocence by presuming her mendacity, you are rape cultured. It works both ways, or should: if one of them has to be lying for the other to be telling the truth, then presuming the innocence of one produces a presumption of the other’s guilt. And Woody Allen cannot be presumed to be innocent of molesting a child unless she is presumed to be lying to us. His presumption of innocence can only be built on the presumption that her words have no credibility, independent of other (real) evidence, which is to say, the presumption that her words are not evidence.
—Aaron Bady, Woody Allen’s Good Name
We live in a culture where women are further victimized after their assault for having the dumb luck to be a victim of someone else’s abhorrent actions. It’s why so many raped women fail to report their assault. In such cases as these, it’s too much to believe that a celebrity who has been idolized for his (or, to be fair, her) accomplishments could possibly also be guilty of such a heinous crime as child sexual abuse, as though an abuser is exonerated by the fact that he or she makes award-winning art. This minimizes the complexity of human nature, a frequent dichotomy that allows a man or a woman to be and do both good and bad things often at the same time. But when we as a society and culture perpetuate an exception-to-the-rule mentality for the celebrities on whom we pile god-like power, we rape those victims all over again. The man makes movies, for crying out loud. Let’s have some perspective here, people!
Rape culture perpetuates the myth that at any moment, any man can be falsely accused of rape, ergo we must be vigilant against these lying women whose only goal is to besmirch the good name of a man by exposing themselves to the world’s scorn and caprice on a global platform. Fortunately, BuzzFeed is here to provide a short list of what is more likely to happen to said potentially falsely-accused males than being falsely accused.
5 Things More LIkely to Happen to You Than Being Accused of Rape
There was a major football game this weekend worth hundreds of millions of dollars to many people. There was also the shocking death of revered and deeply talented, award-winning actor Phillip Seymour Hoffman. It’s important we not allow this pop-culture heavyweight and tragic loss overshadow Dylan Farrow’s remarkable courage in calling out her extraordinarily powerful abuser and calling to account the media, popular culture, and heavyweight Hollywood movie-making machine who have scorned and maligned her for going on twenty plus years now for having the bad taste to be a child victim of sexual abuse.
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