Knocked Up: An Unconventional Romance Masquerading as Radical

Judd Apatow’s 2007 film Knocked Up tells the story of the trials and tribulations that befall two young people who have an unexpected pregnancy (using comedy, of course.) It follows the characters of Alison and Ben (Katherine Heigl and Seth Rogen, respectively) that, after they are both thoroughly intoxicated, end up having a one night stand. Realizing that they have nothing in common, Alison being an entertainment anchor at E! and Ben being a habitual marijuana smoker with aspirations of starting a website with his slacker roommates, they part ways until two months later when Alison realizes she is pregnant. However “radical” the film may present itself to be, Knocked Up, while different and modern, still reinforces compulsory heterosexuality, but recognizes that heteronormativity is circumstantial. We can see this with the help of Simone de Beauvoir, Judith Butler, a series of characters’ contradictions, and a comparison to Woody Allen’s 1977 classic Annie Hall.

Simone de Beauvoir, in an excerpt from her 1949 book ‘The Second Sex’, notes that women are, “defined and differentiated with reference to man and not he with reference to her.” (3) In an analysis on Knocked Up, perhaps this notion can be questioned.

Alison is not defined by her relationship to Ben, and, of anything, he is defined in regards to her. Perhaps whichever sex defines the other is a matter of power, not anatomy. In de Beauvoir’s time, and, though progress has been made, still today, it was men who defined women’s existence. In Knocked Up, we can see that Alison is a successful woman who did not depend on a man to achieve her success. She is also not looking for someone to be dependent on noting that, had she not gotten pregnant, she would not have wanted to have a baby (and presumably have gotten married) for at least another 10 years. While Ben is not looking for someone to be dependent upon either, he is the one, of the two, that does become dependent on the other. Apatow asserts that the, “key to the movie was that [Ben] loves her first.”

Where female characters in other films may feel that they have to settle for the person that has impregnated them for the sake of the baby, Alison does not want this baby to determine the rest of their lives, telling Ben that, “Me not wanting to do this alone is not enough of a reason to drag you into a relationship with me.” She acknowledges that she and Ben are not right for each other and that, if they were to pursue a relationship in an attempt to create a stable environment for their child, that it would be forced and that that would not be fair to either of them.

While the viewer can note that Alison may have a sense of loss about her failed relationship, Ben seems to be the one with an overwhelming sense of loss. Having invested so much in Alison and their unborn child, having changed everything about himself for her, becoming “defined in reference to her”, without her he no longer has a sense of self.

In Annie Hall, we see that as the relationship between Annie (Diane Keaton) and Alvy (Woody Allen) blossoms they learn from each other, Annie perhaps in a more literal, academic way. Similar to Ben finding employment and doing fewer drugs in efforts to win Alison back, Annie betters herself by reading more and taking college courses in an attempt to “keep up” with Alvy. When Annie and Alvy’s relationship ends their break-up is civilized and mature, both characters acknowledge their mutual love and respect for one another but know that it is time to move on. It is not long afterward that Alvy realizes that he had become dependent on Annie’s presence, defining himself in relation to her, whereas Alvy’s presence in Annie’s life made her a more independent person.

de Beauvoir also argues that, “master and slave are united by a reciprocal need, in this case economic, which does not liberate the slave.”(5) As far as Alison and Ben’s relationship, though Alison has a job and Ben does not, neither of them are economically dependent on one another.

Alison’s sister, Debbie (Leslie Mann), however, is a housewife and is economically dependent on her husband, Pete (Paul Rudd). He, with his elusive music-oriented job, is the family’s provider. Though Debbie is financially dependent on her husband, it does not give her less power in their marriage. When Pete is caught in a lie he told in order to have some alone time, an upset Debbie still asserts her authority and tells him that she does not want him at their house anymore. The “slave,” though still reliant on the “master” is liberated enough to assert said authority.

“To decline to be the Other, to refuse to be a party to the deal,” says de Beauvoir, “this would be for women to renounce all the advantages conferred upon them by their alliance with their superior caste.”(5) The burden of being female is that, once she is with child, she has a biological obligation to forfeit her autonomy. Because she had to sacrifice her autonomy to rear her children, Debbie has earned the right to that amount of power in their relationship. She can decline to be the Other without renouncing her advantages because they each have separate but equal responsibilities in their marriage. Even though Pete is the reason they own a home in the high-rent district of Brentwood, California, they can call it even.

In Annie Hall, Annie becomes financially dependent on her Alvy. Annie, new to New York City, probably one of the worst places you could be alone in, clings to Alvy. Though Annie has her own place, when she and Alvy decide to move in together he pays for her recently vacated apartment for her so they can use it as a, “free-floating life raft.” When the two can both feel that their relationship has come to an end, Annie, recognizing Alvy’s potential dependence on her, is hesitant to say anything so as not to hurt his feelings. Alvy feels the same way and acknowledges that his relationship with Annie is a “dead shark,” but he says that he would feel guilty asking Annie to move out. There is room to interpret that he feels she has some sort of economic dependence on him.

The quality is terrible, but it's the audio that is important.
The master-slave dynamic that de Beauvoir mentions appears earlier in the film when Annie feels guilty that, as result of the progress she has made in the therapy sessions that Alvy is paying for, she comes to the realization that she does not want to sleep with him.

Though Knocked Up is not an example of de Beauvoir’s theory that women are supplements to men, it does not mean that they are completely dependent from the identities of “woman” and “man.” Judith Butler’s “Imitation and Gender Insubordination” argues that there is no true gender, that all gender is an imitation of itself. Knocked Up contributes to the perpetuation of gender norms and gender imitation.

“…if repetition is the way in which power works to construct the illusion of a seamless heterosexual identity, if heterosexuality is compelled to repeat itself in order to establish the illusion of its own uniformity and identity,”(725) says Butler, “then this is an identity permanently at risk, for what if it fails to repeat?” In Knocked Up we see a disintegration (or perhaps an evolution) of the heteronormative gender identity. We can see it just in the difference between Debbie’s performance as a heterosexual woman compared to Alison’s interpretation of the performance and we can say that it is threatened. Debbie is a housewife that stays at home and watches her children while her husband, whose machismo has left him emotionally detached from his family, works to provide for them. They each fulfill their duties as their gender roles, but each vary from what has come to be known as the original. Debbie is not the same house wife that June Cleaver was, yet they imitate the same gender role.

Alison is performing the role of the working woman. While it may be “tradition” for men to go to work and make money, her performance can still be considered “feminine.” We can also define Ben’s performance by his relationship to Alison. He is the one that proposes to her. He is the one that is criticized for not having a job to support Alison and the baby (if it were the other way around, Alison would receive significantly less ridicule). They also still end up together at the end of the movie. The question is whether or not they are meant for one another or whether they have fallen to the compulsory heterosexuality by, despite how happy they may seem at the end of the film, forcing themselves to be together in order to make performing their new roles as mother and father easier.

When it comes to gender performativity, Woody Allen, as someone who usually calls attention to how un-masculine he is, still acts as the man in his relationship. In the beginning of his relationship with Annie, for instance, Alvy is always the one talking. Whether he is conscious of it or not, he is always trying to make Annie more of an intellectual, he is always the one telling jokes, and he is always the one insisting that she is attractive as though it were his duty to reassure her. During a good portion of this time Annie stays silent. Do not be fooled by her androgynous sense of style; she still acts like the long-idealized woman.

Annie does not get nearly enough credit for how much she changes from the beginning to the end of the movie. She becomes very independent and strong, the attributes typically associated with men. After his break up with Annie, Alvy realizes that he needed someone to need him, someone for him to nurture, which is typically seen as a maternal instinct. These changes are variations on heteronormative gender roles. But just because the way the players perform changes, it is not to say that they are performing different roles.

In repeating this compulsory heterosexuality, the labels of “man” and “woman” are still used interchangeably with “male” and “female.” Though Annie and Alvy essentially switch genders, the heterosexual identity is perpetuated because terms used to describe gender are used to describe sex. The performance, the imitation of gender, may fracture or fluctuate over time, but the “seamless heterosexual identity” will still exist because it is still performed under the terms “man” and “woman,” regardless of sex. As long as there is a linguistic distinction there will be a performative one.

This performativity of gender has a strong reliance on the performer’s use of language. Throughout Knocked Up, several characters say one thing and then later on say something else. This is not necessarily an example of how they are fickle or bigoted, but perhaps proof that heteronormative gender roles are always in flux.

For example, when Ben tells Debbie and Pete’s daughters that he and Alison are going to have a baby together, Debbie assures her eldest daughter that, although Ben and Alison are not married, that they should be because, “they love each other. And people who love each other get married and have a baby.” Later, Debbie tells Alison, after she rejects Ben’s proposal, that she cannot marry him because, even though she is pregnant with his child, she does not know him.

While it is reasonable to assume that she would give her 8-year-old daughter and her 20-something sister different advice, the difference in advice shows that Debbie understands that this heteronormativity is circumstantial. She encourages her daughter to get married before she has a baby because she knows that it will more than likely be easier for her to raise a child in a stable environment, something that she has personal experience with as well. Since Alison is not doing things in this hegemonic order, it does not make sense for her to become the wife of someone she barely knows.

Ben, after Alison tells him that she is keeping the baby, says that he knows that, “his job is to just support her in everything she does.” This can be interpreted as it is his job as a responsible man to support her in whatever decision she made regarding her pregnancy, something that affects both of their lives. When they have an argument in Alison’s car later over whether Pete lying to his wife in order to play fantasy baseball was justified, she says to Ben, “you should just support me…support everything I say.” Ben responds by saying, “so if you’re wrong I have to support it? I can’t tell you you’re acting like a lunatic?” which eventually results in his expulsion from her car.

Ben, at the beginning and again at the end of the film, understands the effect that pregnancy has on the female body. While they are in the car though, it is hard to say whether or not he was doing the right thing by arguing with Alison. She should not get a free pass because she is pregnant, she is still a human being that should be held accountable for her actions, but he should understand that her hormones are speaking for her (instead of sarcastically responding, “you are a crazy bitch, hormones! Not Alison, hormones!”)  Instead of arguing with her, he should remember that it is his job as the baby’s father to support her. “Because,” as Alison puts it, “at this juncture in my life, I’m allowed to be wrong.”

During their second date, Ben refers to the pregnancy as Alison’s situation. She is quick to correct him and let him know that it is their situation. That same night, they agree to give their relationship a real shot because it will be what is best for the baby. After they have attempted to have a relationship, we can recall that Alison tells Ben that it is not fair of her to drag him into a relationship because she does not want to raise the child alone, effectively making it her situation. Perhaps this is a realization that, while the laws of hegemony say that a child should have two parents (and the heteronormative bi-law specifies that they be a mother and father) that not only does it not always work that way, but it is not always the right way. Alison’s recognition that she does not need Ben to raise a child lends to the film’s radicalism.

            That radicalism is short-lived. Alison changes her convictions yet again right before she is about to go into labor and, after the baby is born, the three of them live happily ever after. Though the montage leading up to this scene will show you that Ben and Alison miss each other, Alison takes him back at what will probably be the most vulnerable moment in her life, begging the question, are they really meant to be together?

            In Annie Hall, Alvy encourages Annie to take college courses because they are intellectually stimulating. Alvy was supportive at first, but he then denounces adult education once he feels threatened by Annie’s relationship with one of her professors. He becomes jealous and feels the need to assert his dominance, the insecurity ultimately leading to their first break-up, and his gender role fluxing from an encouraging partner to an overbearing, paranoid one.

            All of the momentum that Knocked Up needs in order to become a radical romance is there: it goes against de Beauvoir’s argument of women’s dependence on men, it does perpetuate heteronormativity (but subtly) and its characters, through their own contradictions, are realistic. However, it is still an alternative romance masquerading as a radical one. The radicalism of the film, and the reason we can call Annie Hall radical, hinges on whether or not the main characters end up together in the end. In Knocked Up, like so many other romantic comedies, boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy wins girl back. Despite the circumstance of an unplanned pregnancy and the slew of colorful language, the formula is the same. In Annie Hall, the formula reads more like, “boy meets girl, boy loses girl, girl stays lost.” This is more radical, and perhaps more believable. While Knocked Up has all of the potential to be a radical romance, its fairy tale ending is what keeps it in the category of unconventional.

Works Cited

Allen, Woody and Diane Keaton, perf. Annie Hall. Dir. Woody Allen. MGM, 1977. Film.

Butler, Judith. "Imitation and Gender Insubordination." Literary Theory: An Anthology. Ed. Julie Rivkin and Michael Ryan. Malden: Blackwell, 1998. 722-29. Print.

de Beauvoir, Simone. "The Second Sex." marxists.org.  Penguin, 2005. Web. Sept. 2010.

Heigl, Katherine and Leslie Mann, Seth Rogen, Paul Rudd, perf. Knocked Up. Dir. Judd Apatow. Universal Pictures, 2007. Film.

Go Fuck Yourself: A Response to the Myth of Female Masturbation

There were two things mentioned during our Seinfeld  discussion that I wanted to go into further.

There was a mention of "friends with benefits," a non-exclusive, non-romantic relationship based on sexual gratification that is known for almost never working out. What usually ends most FWB relationships is one partner developing feelings for the other and those feelings not being reciprocated, making casual sex awkward. In Seinfeld, they show Elaine needing more from Jerry than they had agreed upon while setting the guidelines for their relationship and, "yadda, yadda, yadda" it didn't last. I think using these tired gender roles reinforces the amount of pressure on heterosexual men to be emotionally detached from sex. Whenever we hear about these casual relationships not working out, it's because the woman needed more of a commitment or an emotional attachment (and if she doesn't then she's a slut, right?), but rarely about men acquiring feelings for their partners. A lack of this representation perpetuates the heteronormative ideas of gender.

The Seinfeld group also happened to mention the series' episode titled, "The Contest"  where the four main characters have a competition for who can go the longest without masturbating. Elaine, the only female competing, loses the bet. In our discussion, one of my classmates said something along the lines of, "women are sexual camels"(edit; I should note that this is a line from Seinfeld, but the aforementioned classmate assured us that it was accurate) and implied that women don't masturbate because, well, they're women. I'm here to school you.

To me, this opinion sounds as though it has been formed by a lifetime of watching gross-out comedies and '90s stand-up. Of course women masturbate. Unfortunately, we still live in a world where young girls are told that masturbating is inappropriate. When an actress like Taylor Momsen, 17, says that,  "her vibrator is her best friend" she's still hit with comments from a source to FOX news that says that her actions, "will result in failure in her life."

I do understand that there are a lot of health benefits to masturbation for males, like helping your immune system and maintaining prostate health. That's great. Go masturbate to your heart's content (without depleting your sperm bank). We're lucky enough to live in a time when male masturbation is widely accepted and fewer men are punished for spilling their seed on a Victoria's Secret catalogue. Females haven't been as lucky. People still long very much to control female sexuality, to make them rely on a man for sexual gratification.

To say that females don't masturbate perpetuates this unhealthy idea of female sexuality. Young girls being told that they're not supposed to masturbate while "boys will be boys," is what has lead  generations of females' unfamiliarity with their own anatomy. It's what has lead generations of females to not know how to give themselves an orgasm, and, in many cases, to not know if they've ever had an orgasm. Girls face developing stress disorders and leading unhealthy sex lives when they are told that masturbating is wrong. To say that women don't need to masturbate because they're women contributes to this machine.*

Females are also multi-orgasmic and, as my favorite person ever Dan Savage puts it, "physiologically, sexually insatiable." Frankly, I'm getting a little angry reflecting back on this fairly ignorant comment, so I'm going to let Dan take it from here:


*Also, to say that women don't masturbate doesn't even make sense outside of our Seinfeld discussion: Elaine is the one who lost the bet.

Here's another video from Dan Savage on masturbation. It strays from my original point, but it's educational nonetheless:

Judith Butler: A Person After My Own Heart

When I saw that we got to read Judith Butler's "Imitation and Gender Insubordination" I was beyond excited. I read this piece in my Queer Studies 301 class last year and it had a lasting affect on me. The copy that I printed out for class this week is highlighted to hell and the notes in the margins say things like, "my point exactly!" and "this text is the basis of my identity!"

At this point in time I think I have made it pretty clear through our class discussions that I have a passion for queer theory and gender politics. Anything having to do with gender non-conformity, binaries and dichotomies just revs my engine.

I guess now would be appropriate to come out to you, fair reader: I'm genderqueer.

The genderqueer identity can mean one of three things. It can mean that you see yourself as neither a man nor woman, as both a man and a woman, or just outside of the gender binary. I happen to see myself as all three. For a long time I did not feel comfortable referring to myself as a woman, but I did not identify as a man. I frequently saw myself as masculine, though from my outward appearance you may not be able to tell. I was also very comfortable being female. I knew I was something, but I didn't think there was a word for it. It was a similar feeling to what Betty Friedan describes in "The Feminine Mystique" as the "problem that has no name," the feeling that women felt before the women's right movement, knowing that there was something else out there than what was presented to them, but not knowing what it was.

Then the identity of genderqueer came into my life and it felt so right. I still use the feminine pronoun (English does not have a widely-accepted gender-neutral pronoun or one that is linguistically appealing) and still relate to the stories of women (trust me- there are so many Bob Dylan songs that I wish were written about me). Many genderqueer people choose to dress like an androgyne and many genderqueer choose to change their names to gender-neutral ones. I've chosen to keep my name because I do not feel that I need to change it in order to be genderqueer (which a lot of people do).

I only came to accept myself as genderqueer fairly recently, and I am slowly learning that being a genderqueer heterosexual makes me invisible. Since most people do not learn about gender politics unless that are LGBTIQQA, heterosexuals are less likely to see themselves as gender non-conforming because, hey, they don't know anything else. When I come out as genderqueer, it is usually assumed that I am a lesbian or pansexual. If I come out as heterosexual, it is assumed that I am a woman.

"First," Butler notes, "it is necessary to consider that sexuality always exceeds any given performance, presentation, or narrative which is why it is not possible to derive or read off a sexuality from any given gender presentation."

Thanks for having my back, Judy. Things we've established:

• I am genderqueer
• I am female
• I am heterosexual

I also typically present femininely, I suppose. At least this is what it seems like to other people. I, however, see myself as androgynous. It's okay, I know no one else sees me this way. But Butler explains my identity better than I could: "There are no direct expressive or causal lines between sex, gender, gender presentation." That is to say that sex, gender identity and presentation are non-exclusive. How fun is this?!

This is a video my friend is in (the "First generation Salvadoran genderqueer macho-femme") about identity politics. It's pretty funny:

Judd Apatow Knows What's [Knocked] Up

During our class discussion on Knocked Up we talked about director Judd Apatow's aversion to the word abortion. An argument was made that Apatow did not use the word abortion in the film because he had some sort of moral objection to abortion and that the film may have some sort of pro-life agenda.

This assertion seemed strange to me. I think anyone that knows Apatow's repertoire knows that he is a remarkably liberal director, even winning a GLAAD award for an episode of 'Freaks and Geeks' that featured an intersexed character. He parodies ignorant opinions of homosexuals and other marginalized groups(that, admittedly, probably goes over the heads of most of his audience). So to say that not saying the word abortion and instead using euphemisms like, "have it taken care of" and "shma-shmortion" seemed like comedic choices, not political ones.

So I did my homework. I watched the commentary for Knocked Up and was able to find the evidence that I needed. In the commentary, Apatow says that, "people always think I'm anti-abortion because [Alison and Ben] don't get an abortion in the movie. But if they did, the movie would be 10 minutes long."

Thank you! I noted this in class and it wasn't well received. I will attribute that to my really outdated reference to the TV series 'Maude', Bea Arthur's show from the '70s. I mentioned that it's easier for a TV series to portray an abortion than it is for a movie because it ends a movie whereas a TV series will continue on. (There have to me more recent examples than 'Maude,' but that was the first one that came to mind.)

Apatow also mentions that he thinks Alison didn't get an abortion because, "She saw the heartbeat and that had an affect on her. And partially because her mom's a bitch."

Seth Rogen, the film's main character, on those who thought that Apatow's characters not having an abortion was some sort of political statement said, "Are the guys who made Ocean's 13 pro-bank robbing? Is Harold Ramis pro-dispensing of ghosts?"

'Feminafesto': This isn't equality, ma'am

From our class assignment, October 19, 2010.

On Anne Waldman's "Feminafesto":

"I understand Waldman's frustration with the male population. However, I do not agree with her proposal of a trans literature. I have to argue that, as a huge advocate for gender neutrality, I understand that males and females have different experiences in the world. I understand that men and women should not have separate experiences*, I'm all for that- but we biologically have different experiences because of the difference between a womb and a phallus.

Also, a 'trans literature'- despite it's name- seems to be excluding transgender/sexual people. The experience of a trans person, whether MTF or FTM, is different from that of someone who is born biologically male or female. Even if someone never transitioned or came of age without having the understanding of why they did not feel comfortable in their own body, their experience would still be different and should not be discounted because they are technically a 'man' or technically a 'woman.' Biology does not determine gender, and Waldman seems to write as though sex and gender are synonymous.

We also cannot discredit the experiences of males. Male writers, whose experiences are different from those of female writers regardless of their gender identity, have the right to those experiences and should not pay for what other male authors have done in the past."


*Your choice of gender identity does make a difference in your life experience. What I am trying to say, and I think what Waldman may be trying to say as well, is that it should not affect how you are treated (evaluated?) in the literary world and otherwise.

"Feminafesto." Waldman, Anne. 1994. Print. Penguin Books.

'Lolita': Radical Romance in Three Syllables

“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul.”

There are plenty of stories about the romantic relations between men and women, but because they are all so similar we tend to forget about them unless they bring something remarkable to the table. Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov’s 1955 novel, is not likely to be forgotten any time soon. The story of an older man who becomes infatuated with a young girl, the title character, Lolita was deemed filthy and obscene when first published in Europe (ban in France for two years) and, surprisingly, a major success when published in the United States three years later. The novel explores many taboos, most specifically incest and hebephilia. While these entities are important players in the book, perhaps a deeper analysis of Lolita can show us Simone de Beauvoir’s theory of women as supplements to men, Lolita as both a culprit and a victim of the heart, and the relationship between Lolita and her admirer, Humbert Humbert, as a radical one.

Lolita is told from the perspective of Humbert Humbert, a European man in his late thirties with a penchant for what he refers to as “nymphets,” or girls in their early adolescence, who has come to the United States to teach at a college in the fall. For the summer, he rents a room in a house in New England, occupied by a widowed mother, Charlotte Haze, and her 12-year-old daughter, Dolores “Lolita” Haze. Falling in love with Lolita at first sight, Humbert drives himself mad trying to get close to her. He keeps a diary of every detail about how much he loathes Charlotte and how much he adores the beautiful but childish Lolita. Humbert marries Charlotte to stay in Lolita's life and when she dies shortly afterward he becomes Lolita's guardian and lover. Finally able to possess Lolita, Humbert puts a stranglehold on all of her actions until she runs away.



We can tell from the text that Humbert is very controlling of Lolita and that the line between guardian and infatuate is blurred. While she has such a dizzying affect on him, he still treats her like a typical man before the women’s movement. Although it is clear to us, the reader, that they do not have a father/daughter relationship, they must pretend as though they do to conceal the truth from everyone else. While Humbert is her step-father, Lolita is very clearly a possession to him and it is not his intention to treat her badly, but he simply has to own her. After learning of her mother’s death, Lolita has no other option than to cry in Humbert’s arms. She needs him and he uses this to his advantage. In Simone de Beauvoir’s introduction to The Second Sex titled, “Woman as Other” she explains it best: “To decline to be the Other, to refuse to be a party to the deal- this would be for woman to renounce all the advantages conferred upon them by their alliance with the superior caste.” Lolita falls into this debacle because she needs Humbert and, while he covets her, she needs to be coveted in order to be provided for. While Lolita is still a child during her romance with Humbert, we can see in her relationships with other men that she needs them perhaps just as much as they need her, but in different ways because, “she is defined and differentiated with reference to man and not he with reference to her.” (de Beauvoir)

Although Lolita may be an accessory to Humbert in his eyes, she holds an incredible amount of power over him. In Chris Barker’s Cultural Studies: Theory and Practice, Diana Meehan’s analysis of women on U.S. television is mentioned. It is a list of typical female characters which were seen on television, but expands far beyond that medium. The ones that we can define Lolita as may be the “bitch” and the “siren.” (307-308) Lolita is perhaps a bitch because she is “manipulative”, but she has to be in order to make the best of a bad situation (after all, her step-father does constantly solicit her for sex). The siren is perhaps a more accurate description of our heroine, although she probably falls somewhere in between. The siren, like in Homer’s Odyssey, “sexually lures men to a bad end.” While Lolita does sexually lure men, it is not her intention. Once she realizes she can do this, she uses it to her advantage. Lolita drove Humbert into madness. However, we must remember that Lolita was only a child and that she had to grow up very quickly only because she was robbed of her childhood. Even if she broke Humbert’s heart, it can be argued that she is the real victim.

This story has been called many things(the terms “pornographic” and “ground-breaking” come to mind), but it can definitely be argued that this it is a radical romance. Firstly, there is the concept of some sort of incest. Perhaps this is the more minor issue, seeing as Humbert and Lolita’s sexual relations are not technically incestuous because he is her step-father. Although this concept did turn publishers away, the biggest concern is the age disparity in and the hebephilia of the relationship. Hebephilia is a sexual taste for someone in their early adolescence; Lolita is the median of this “philia” at 12-years-old. It is important to note that due to the regulations on motion pictures, in Stanley Kubrick’s 1962 adaptation of this novel, the title character was 15, and therefore more reasonable for a grown man to be attracted to, as it is past the onset of puberty and when young women start to look like grown women. In the book, Humbert muses to himself whether Lolita has, “already been initiated by mother nature to the Mystery of the Menarche” (49), cherishing the youth that she had left. Another reason this could be considered a radical romance is that, although Lolita’s physicality was a major draw for Humbert, he really did love her even if she was childish and tactless most of the time. But Lolita did not love him. She may have enjoyed being pursued by an older man at first, but the restraints that the relationship put on her and the abuse she suffered never let her fall in love with him.

While some have seen it as obscene and some have rendered it genius, there is no doubt that the romance portrayed in Lolita is radical. Lolita is a combination of a victimized female, as profiled by de Beauvoir, and a siren, as analyzed by Meehan, and is part of a relationship where she holds both all of the cards and none of the cards, pursued by a lecherous but tender step-father. In Lolita, the story of a nymphet Venus, normalcy is hard to come by.


Lolita makes my heart go, "Humbert, Humbert."

Works Cited
Barker, Chris. Cultural Studies: Theory and Practice. London: SAGE Publications Ltd, 2008. Print.

de Beauvoir, Simone. The Second Sex, Woman as Other.1949. Print.


Nabokov, Vladimir. Lolita. Paris: The Olympia Press. 1955. Print.

Annie Hall: La-de-da

Annie Hall  is one of my favorite movies. I appreciate it for its aesthetics as well as its sentiment. Woody Allen is one of my favorite directors and writers and, though he does have other very funny movies, this is usually considered his best work.

I also think it's a very good example of a radical romance. After I had a particularly bad break-up some time ago and was in some obnoxious state of over-sensitivity, I had to turn off the movie right before Annie and Alvy meet Tony Lacey. I convinced myself that the movie ended with Annie singing "Seems Like Old Times" after her and Alvy have gotten back together. For some reason seeing that Annie and Alvy do not end up together in the end was far too painful for me, and that watching it would mean having to admit to myself that not everything had a happy ending.

To me this is radical. I got over my aversion to the end of the movie and in doing so realized that the characters not ending up together does not necessarily means it is not a happy ending. Annie and Alvy are both content and have both moved on. That's what happens in life. Annie Hall  is radical because it shows you what happens in life. In other romantic comedies, the characters always end up together. That doesn't happen in life. My hat's off to Woody Allen for not bullshitting his audience.

The end of the film. Radical in its reality.

'10': Two sides of the same Susan B. Anthony dollar

From our class assignment, October, 5, 2010:

"Although all of the characters [in '10'] have slightly more modern profiles, I would argue that Dudley Moore's character is a bit of a hopeless romantic. The oldest stories always involve a man who is just wandering through life until he sees the woman of his dreams. Typically, he would woo her and they would live happily ever after- after he redeems himself for some hi-jinks gone awry in the course of winning her affection. Moore, however, never entirely possesses Bo Derek before he is able to have her. In fact, he doesn't at all. She comes to him, and then he realizes that she is not all she is cracked up to be. He realizes that the woman he is really in love with, Julie Andrews, is the right woman for him. Of course Andrews is not some docile female who waits at Moore's beckoned call; she is a strong female that, although she loves and cares for Moore, does not put up with his shit, so to speak.

Both women in the film are very much in their time, Andrews being a modern woman and a positive product of the women's rights movement. Derek is more of a product of the '60s counterculture, free love and marijuana use. This, I would argue, resists typical "romance." Formulaically, one of the females that Moore has to choose from would welcome him back with open arms. While Andrews does take him back, she does not have to change herself for him. He realizes how lucky he was all along and instead of her being grateful, she kind of says, 'yep, I told you so.'

Extra Credit: Wow! Great haircut, Prof. Wexler!"


I can never hear Bolero de Ravel the same way again.

Raunch, sans the Y-chromosome

I'm a big Judd Apatow fan. I'm not entirely sure I'm his target demographic, but I find his characters really relatable. I don't know if I should see so much of myself in thirty-something straight men with juvenile tendencies, but I find comfort in the universe he has created in which geeks reign supreme.

During class we watched a scene from the movie where Steve Carrell's character, Andy, and all of his hetero male co-workers were playing poker and talking about their sex lives. It's supposed to be pretty raunchy and graphic and a glimpse of how men really talk behind closed doors. I couldn't gauge the reaction of the other females in class, but at one point I asked, "don't women do this too?" I didn't get much of a hetero female response, but I know that they do it as well.

I think that The 40-Year-Old Virgin sheds light on the double-standard that we still have about the difference between men and women's preservation of virginity. Luckily we've come a long way from the Biblical executions of non-virgin brides, but I would argue that the hegemonic power structure still longs to keep women virginal.

A few videos on virginity by Seattle-based sex columnist, Dan Savage (they're all great, I couldn't pick just one):

Ethnography: Defining Radical

I would like to preface this ethnography by acknowledging the great fortune I had in my observational period. While the situations I observed may not be completely radical, I must argue that the circumstances within one particular relationship mentioned were not ordinary. I am grateful to spend my time with such a colorful group of characters. Without them I would not have been able to see what I saw, so special thanks goes out to my merry band of miscreants.

This ethnography seeks to compare radical and normal types of romance. I observed relationships at a college party in an apartment near the California State University, Northridge campus. I did not tell anyone that I was observing them for an ethnography. The names of the observed have been changed to conceal their identities.

The apartment is across the street from the university on the west side. It is a one bedroom shared by two women who we will call “Beth” and “Gwyn.” I know Beth well and I am fond of Gwyn. The apartment has a spacious living area and a bar, both perfect for the gatherings that they host about twice a week. These “kick-backs”, as they are called, usually consist of about ten to twelve people at one point in time (people shuffle in and out throughout the night). There are about three regular attendees, excluding Beth and Gwyn. I am one of these regulars, and we will refer to the other two as “Viv” and “Alexis”. Most new-comers are people that Beth and Gwyn know through CSUN’s film department (they are both CTVA majors) or other friends who bring their own friends. There is always someone new at their apartment to talk to and it is rare that you will see the same person twice. This is typical of gatherings of college students from a large university such as ours.

My hours of observation were from 8:00 PM to 12:00 AM on September 10, 2010. People were drinking scotch and listening to an alternative music playlist on someone’s iPod. The mood was very mellow, as is typical of Beth and Gwyn’s parties. They note to each guest as they arrive- after asking them to take their shoes off so they do not dirty the carpet- to keep their voices down and that, if they want to put music on, to make sure that it is not loud enough to disturb their neighbors.
Beth has a long-distance boyfriend, “Charlie”, who she is constantly text messaging. She keeps up a conversation with him via text throughout the entirety of my observation. While I do not know what is being said between them, every two minutes or so Beth’s phone will vibrate, she will look at it, smile and reply. Beth shares that it is very rare for her and Charlie to talk on the phone and that, when one of them calls the other, they assume something is wrong.

Viv has a different set of circumstances. Viv is pansexual, meaning she is attracted to people for who they are regardless of their gender identity or sex, and the more she drinks throughout the evening the more she shares with us. Viv tells us about a woman she has feelings for named “Meg”. At a small get-together, it is inevitable that people will start talking about relationships. Viv talks to other guests about Meg and debates whether the feelings she has for her are mutual.

Enter Kim, Mona and Tom. Kim and Mona are friends with Beth. They have been dating for about six months. Mona has an apartment closer to school and Kim has practically been living there since they have been dating. Kim and Mona do not come in holding hands or even smiling. They greet everyone that they know and introduce themselves to others. Tom follows close behind Kim, not saying much and nodding hello to everyone. Tom met Kim a week or two prior to this meeting and they have seen each other frequently ever since. Tom and Mona do not talk to each other. Instead, Mona goes in one direction and Kim in another, each talking to people that they know. Tom follows Kim, but does not stand close enough to her to hear her conversation. I overhear Kim telling someone in a hushed voice that Tom kissed her the other day and that Mona does not know about it. Kim has an ambiguous sexual identity and is very vocal about people, both male and female, that she finds attractive. Tom is also very vocal about being a transgendered man, meaning that he is biologically female and is transitioning into a man. Tom was talking to another transgendered party guest about being “pre-T”, meaning he has yet to start taking testosterone and other male hormones in order to transition, and about binding his chest every day.

                       A love triangle of sorts. Thought I'd break up the text with a visual.


It may take some work to decipher which of the relationships I observed are radical and which are normative because of the genders of the players in each of them. From what I have observed, though, “normal” does not equal “heterosexual” and “radical” is not equivalent to “queer”.
Beth and Charlie, for instance, are a heterosexual couple that are keeping up a long-distance relationship. While this may not be the most convenient relationship, it is something that many people attempt. Most couples that go off to college will either break up or attempt a long-distance relationship. The only thing that could be interpreted as radical may be the fact that Beth and Charlie do not speak on the phone, says this observer.

In Chris Barker’s book Cultural Studies: Theory and Practice, he defines social identity as, “the expectation and opinions that others have of us.” (215) Viv and her relation to Meg, while not heterosexual, still adheres to a formula of a homosexual relationship. This being the year 2010 and this being Los Angeles County, I am going to take the liberty to say that a homosexual relationship is in itself not radical. Viv, seeking a lesbian relationship with Meg, expects each of them to have equal roles in their potential relationship and does not expect one of them to take a more masculine role and the other a more feminine role. Whether this romance is radical or normal depends on your idea of a homosexual relationship.
In general, we can say that there are two different relationship styles within the queer community. One style would be the previously stated one of equal roles in a relationship, and the other being adherence to a more heterosexist ideal of a “male” and “female”, despite each partner being of the same sex. This is where the sub-identities of “butch” and “femme” in the lesbian community come from. We can see the same in the gay male community with men who are extremely flamboyant compared others who are not.

In the case of Kim, Mona and Tom, this heterosexist formulation is the basis of their whole relationship. Tom is a transgendered man; the foundation of his identity is in a societal definition of what it means to be a man. Of course his identity is also wound up in feeling uncomfortable in the body he was born in, but he feels comfortable doing what is prescribed behavior for a man. Barker states that, “…it is a sociological truism that we are born into a world that pre-exists us.” (218) Tom’s understanding of what it means to be a man is what he has grown up seeing in the media and in real life. He uses these learned habits in his relation to Kim, asserting himself, being the pursuer and treating her, “like a lady”. Tom treats Mona as competition for Kim’s attention, but does not treat her as though they are both vying for her affection in the same way. Tom treats Mona as though she is the disapproving best friend of his love interest in a romantic comedy, instead of someone that Kim has feelings for.

Kim’s action in her sordid state of affairs may be considered radical as well. Tom kissed Kim and disregarded the fact that Kim was dating Mona. When this usually happens, the girl in the relationship lets their pursuer know that they have gone too far and that it would not be appropriate to see them any longer. Kim has not done that. Instead, she does not want her relationship with Tom to change and still spends as much time with him as she would had he not kissed her, effectively leading Tom on. There is not denying that Kim is attracted to Tom (having described him as, “hotter than all hell”) and while she does not want Mona to get hurt, she does like the attention that Tom gives her. Kim, in comparison to Michael Douglas’s character in the 1987 film Fatal Attraction, may be landing herself in hot water (like a certain pet bunny I may mention) but does not seek Tom the way that Michael Douglas sought out Glenn Close. Her flirtation is pathological and, while hurting others may not be her intention, it is inevitable.

Every romance, even the most mundane, has a tinge of radicalism to it. There are a number of circumstances that could qualify it as such depending on who the observer is. Because of my background, I do not see homosexual relationships as radical. Another viewer may not see the potential for polyamory radical the way that I might. Our definitions of radical versus normative romances are based in our interpretation of language and our understanding of the pre-existent culture around us.


Barker, Chris. Cultural Studies: Theory and Practice. London: SAGE Publications Ltd., 2009. Print.

Douglas, Michael, perf. Fatal Attraction. Paramount, 1987. Film

Feelin' all the time like a cat on a hot tin roof

I was part of the 'Cat on a Hot Tin Roof' presentation group. I'm proud of our group, particularly the other three members that contributed the most, because for not having much time to get together I think we pulled off our presentation well. Also, we were the first group to go. C'mon, that's a lot of pressure.

I always opt to work on my own for projects simply because working with other people can be difficult. This time was no exception. My group members were not hard to work with by any means, but finding a time when six full-time college students are all available is near impossible. But, again, I think we did a good job given the time we had to prepare and the number of times we were able to meet. I also think we had interesting insights and opinions on the text that helped to structure our discussion.

I contributed my being at every group meeting (more than some of my group members can say) and I also helped contribute to the dialogue of our 'Kerry Springer' show script. I helped in structuring the talking points we presented to the class on the text like everyone else. I also played the role of Maggie when the 'Hot Tin Roof' cast visited the 'Kerry Springer' show.

Paul Newman is what we in the academic world call, "a hot piece of somethin'."

Simone de Beauvoir and 'Jerry Maguire': Two Names I Never Thought I Would Put in the Same Sentence

Simone de Beauvoir is my girl.

I've always enjoyed her writing on "woman as other," but it always saddened me because, while women have certainly made progress, there is still so much that has yet to change. Let's take Jerry Maguire for instance.

Jerry Maguire, the title character of the 1996 Tom Cruise movie, has two love interests. The first being his fiance, Avery, portrayed by Kelly Preston. Both Jerry and Avery are career-oriented and hard working. The film constructs Avery as a tough-as-nails kind of woman, perhaps a little more rash than most "modern" women, she has some personality traits that are less than appealing regardless of gender, including narcissism and a lack of compassion. She is sexy and willing but won't be pushed around and has no sense of remorse.

The other woman in Jerry's life, the one he ultimately ends up with, is Renee Zellweger's Dorothy, Jerry's assistant with a pathetic longing for her employer. Dorothy is very passive and is at Jerry's beckoned call, even leaving her job to follow Jerry after he gets fired. Through movie magic, Jerry realizes that he is in love with the woman that... was invisible to him before he realized she was so malleable? Yep. That's what happens.

If the modern woman is comprised of both masculine and feminine qualities, then perhaps these characters are written by a man who is scared of this. Avery is monstrous compared to the docile Dorothy. They are each extremes of the personality type they are representing. de Beauvoir says that for women, "to decline to be the Other, to refuse to be a party to the deal- this would be for women to renounce all the advantages conferred upon them by their alliance with the superior caste." Jerry Maguire reaffirms this. Avery, the goal-oriented, independent woman ends up alone because she refuses to be a supplement to Jerry.While Dorothy, who waits on his hand and foot is rewarded because she sacrificed having a life of her own in order to get the attention of a man.

de Beauvoir, Simone. The Second Sex, Woman as Other.1949. Print.

Maybe they're just mismatched? Some guys dig insensitive women.

"I'm Not There"

"I'm not there," happens to be the words out of the mouth of the humble narrator of American Psycho, the 2000 film adapted from the Bret Easton Ellis novel of the same title.

Patrick Bateman, a perfect picture of yuppie greed, has layers of identity hidden behind an empty persona. A sleek Wall Street player on the outside, Patrick is secretly consumed by a need for carnage. In the beginning of his narration he explains that he is not Patrick Bateman and that there is no Patrick Bateman, that he is simply a compilation of what other people see and the products he buys.

In class, we were asked what has created Patrick Bateman? And, for that matter, what has created any of us? Someone volunteered that what makes us is language. I can absolutely agree that this is a starting point. We start with a language and then build upon it, separating everyone into categories so that it is easier for our minds to process. We create categories so that people know what to do and what not to do, somewhat losing autonomy. Patrick Bateman is an assortment of material, a hollow being draped in Armani. He wants what others in the category want and does what others in his category do.

That is not to say that anyone who fights against materialism or gender binaries has a better concept of who they are. They too are defined by what they don't own and what they don't believe in, which is just as constricting.

Patrick Bateman, however, is very aware that he is nothing apart from his things. He goes so far as to say that there is no Patrick Bateman. Is there no Patrick Bateman? Or are our definitions different? If everyone is made up of what we make them, then no one is anyone. If, though, Patrick Bateman just happens to be the name of one of countless drones, then there is a Patrick Bateman, he just happens to be made of raw material.

When Patrick said that he was, "not there" it reminded me of the Todd Haynes's 2007 Bob Dylan biopic, I'm Not There. From my experience, you have to know a lot about Bob Dylan in order to fully appreciate the movie, but if you know the slightest bit about Dylan you know that he is considered an original, a visionary and a "man who worked for no man." As an artist who was (and still is, though he's slowed down in later years) always reinventing himself, Dylan knew that he was whatever the people made him out to be, and knew that who he was changed on a daily basis. Because of all of these factors, you can never know who you really are. Patrick Bateman, a fictional character, and Bob Dylan, a real person, are similar in that neither of them exist to others the way they exist to themselves, even questioning their existence altogether.

Here is the trailer for I'm Not There. If you're a Dylan fan, it's a great film. Todd Haynes does a wonderful job (and his DVD commentary is some of the best I've ever heard). I implore you to at least watch the Cate Blanchett scenes. Her performance is fantastic.

Fun fact: Christian Bale stars in both I'm Not There and American Psycho.

Above vs. Below

In our most recent class, we discussed who or what is being served by particular social constructs, specifically in the construction of socioeconomic status. In this construction, the "above" benefits as it exploits the "below" culture and gives said culture a sense that they are being represented. However, it is usually the "above" culture that decides what representation of the "below" culture becomes a part of the "above" culture.

In class we used rap artists as an example. Most rap artists become popular underground before the powers that be see that the artist is marketable. This construct benefits the "above" because they give the facade that when a piece of "below" culture is accepted as part of the "above" culture, the people who are a part of the "below" culture are given more privilege, power and respect.

Me and What Not

My name is Karlee Johnson. I'm a third-year Journalism major who is definitely in the wrong field. I intend to double minor in Creative Writing and Queer Studies. I'm the Vice President of the LGBT Alliance on campus. I'm a heterosexual ally to the queer community and a strong advocate of gay rights. I know obscure bits of popular culture that will get me nowhere in life. I'm not sure I know how to properly calculate tip, but I do know the name of the cantina band in Star Wars. I'm not nearly as interesting as I think I am. I plan on going to New York to get my master's degree. I have a dream of both writing and voice acting for a living. I'm sure there's more about me that's fit to print but nothing seems to be coming to mind. Questions? Feel free to ask. I'm pretty non-threatening.