Yeah, the “icon” thing is particularly cruel.

Unfuckingbelievable.

Blue writes about Pony’s comments to her : “Well, so far I been told my having been disabled longer than Dworkin makes me overqualified to say anything about Dworkin’s writing. I’ve been told I’m arrogant because I use a wheelchair, because I’m poor enough to qualify for federal and state aid, because that aid pays for people who show up at my home to help me, because I fit the offensive stereotypes of March of Dimes childhood icons of disability, because my form of disability is too male-oriented and privileged, and because I’m not currently dying or dead. None of the above is worth responding to except to say that a lot of it is based on erroneous assumptions about my life and is flat-out inaccurate.”

Blue, I am sorry for the treatment you have received here.

Pony writes: “Disabled children are the icons of disability. Why am I not surprised that Blue has so little awareness of what the rest of us experience?”

Pony, you are extremely able-bodiest and ignorant. You can’t be serious. Icons, huh? As a disabled child (boy), I mostly got the shit beat out of me, at home and everywhere else. Disabled children are far more likely to be abused, sexually and otherwise, than able-bodied children. Where are you getting this shit?

That is all.

Very young children can sometimes be manipulated into “remembering” things that don’t happen, but not adults (unless certain mind-altering drugs are used).

Actually, the phenomenon of false “recovered memories” in adults is well-established, notably in the “satanic ritual abuse” cases of the 1980s. And I’m not just talking about recovered memories of having been abused — some of those cases, the accused came to believe that they themselves had, as adults, committed crimes which had in reality never occurred. Paul Ingram is one Google-able example of this.

The Grouch Writes:
September 25th, 2006 at 4:32 pm
…We are not inaccurate in our memories of whether or not we consented to sex.

I disagree.

We are accurate in terms of consent when it’s clear. If we remember shouting “No, stop!” we are generally right. Though even there you will find that sometimes people actually shouted “No, no, please stop!” or “No, don’t!” when they claim to have shouted “No, stop!” Really, memory is funny stuff.

We are less accurate when it comes to judging our own apparent consent, largely because we can’t be objective in judging our own appearance. I cannot tell you how many times in my life people have thought I meant/wanted one thing when I actually did not. Unfortunately, sex is not all that different.

I don’t want to side track this disability/feminism thread into a rape discussion. Conveniently, even before you replied I had started on a rape analysis series on my own blog; part 1 is here (with links to part 2.) You can respond there if you want.

Er, not quite.

Psychological studies have shown that we are inaccurate in our memories of things like, say, the color of the car involved in the hit-and-run accident, or the height of the man who was holding the gun. At least, we are sometimes suggestible when it comes to memories of these things.

We are not inaccurate in our memories of whether or not we consented to sex. Very young children can sometimes be manipulated into “remembering” things that don’t happen, but not adults (unless certain mind-altering drugs are used).

I mean, it could be that AD “went” “sane”, could it not? and it will just take the rest of the human race a goodly while to catch up?

That’s rather hard to prove, isn’t it? Well, unless I spend some time retyping in old student paper excerpts, which I’m not inclined to do and would be unlikely to impress anyone who decided immediately that this was just an opportunity to slam Dworkin. I have no reason to spend my time slamming other feminists. I think the bulk of my work at my blog will show that to be true, for all people, not just feminists — it’s not my style. Beyond that, I have to say your scepticism of my integrity and genuine interest in looking at the disability issues Dworkin raises (and doesn’t) rather than just tearing her down is your problem. I can’t make you believe.

On Dworkin’s believeability. I hate to see that brought up. I don’t relate to or agree with various things Dworkin said in this piece. That’s a very different thing from not believing what she says is true.

I agree. I do think Dworkin may well get more than her fair share of automatic dismissal, but that’s not what i read here.

per Nietzche–well, again: what does this mean? Because now what I’m hearing is the (traditional lit crit, perhaps) idea that what matters is the work itself; the context of who the author is or where s/he’s coming from shouldn’t factor.

i tend to not agree with this so much. or, well, it depends on what kind of writing it is, what the goal is (both of the writing and of the criticism). In Dworkin’s case, in general, it’s a bit trickier to separate the writer from her work in that she was so very much about “the personal is political;” it’s a bit different from, say, looking at the legal arguments of Catherine MacKinnon and determining whether they have (legal, practical) merit, for example.

but I mean: it’s one thing to say, ahhhh, that Nietzche, he was crazy, don’t even bother reading anything he has to say, or taking any of it seriously;

it’s another to say, look, when he says (however the famous phrase goes, paraphrasing), when you go to woman, bring your whip, bear in mind that this is a sickly man who’s lived in the house of his mother and sisters his entire life.

doesn’t make him saying it any less ew-y, or make it any more or less…well, again, this doesn’t really quite translate…believable? i mean, i believe he meant it, pretty much. do i believe it’s true (that women need a whip to keep us in line)? well, hello, no; but i don’t need to know the state of his mental health or background to decide that. it just gives me a bit more insight into the writing and the author, perhaps.

but, yeah, i don’t know; i think we’re talking apples and oranges and probably a bunch of other fruits as well, here.

But all I see here are slurs against soemone who genuinely cared about women. I do not idolize Dworkin, nor take her work as gospel, but as a profound thinker I think she deserves more serious criticism.

I don’t think that’s an accurate summary of what’s happened in this thread. And I stand by what I wrote about Dworkin over at The Gimp Parade:

This piece and the essay she wrote about being drugged and raped in 1999 share a common worldview — “this is a thing that happened to me that I was powerless to do anything about.” In both pieces, she describes her friends, her doctors — even her partner — dismissing her and maltreating her. There’s no sense in either piece that she found much support in communities of activists or fellow-sufferers, or even that she looked particularly hard for such support. There’s no indication that her prominence, or her experience, or her money offered her any protection at all against the humiliations she suffered.

Both pieces are ultimately defeatist. Both pieces deprecate, mostly by omission, the idea that oppressed people can act together to change society for the better, or even to improve each others’ prospects for survival within it. Both depict Dworkin as passive, victimized, defeated — railing against oppression, but railing ineffectually — and both depict that state as essentially inescapable.

You may disagree with that take, but I don’t think it can be dismissed as unserious.

But to confess I do sometimes judge an author’s work by his personal life. For instance William S Burroughs and Norman Mailer were both wife beaters out to murder their wives. (Burroughs succeeded, Mailer thankfully failed by a hair) and that colors my reading of their work.

But all I see here are slurs against soemone who genuinely cared about women. I do not idolize Dworkin, nor take her work as gospel, but as a profound thinker I think she deserves more serious criticism.

Calling a writer crazy is a cheap shot. And stigmas like madness stick to women amazingly well. There is a long history of discrediting women authors this way. Of the thinkers Antiprincess listed, only Sylvia Plath was one whose writing is seen in light of “mental Ilness”.

Another thing, none of us take Dworkin as gospel, I don’t idolize her. I just think she was a great thinker, and a monumental influnce, and really deserves more serious criticism than baseless slurs typically thrown at women authors.

Brooklynite, reading writing on its merits means the same thing whether it is autobiographical or not. It means accepting the reliability of the author and judging the writing itself. The way people do for Nietzche, if that makes it easier for you.

I don’t know anything about Nietzche. But if I uncritically accepted the reliability of every author I read, I’d quickly wind up flummoxed and stuck. To pick just the most obvious example, what are we supposed to do when two people writing about the same event describe it in ways that contradict each other?

More fundamentally, it seems to me that engaged reading is necessarily critical reading. I don’t think I could read a piece of serious writing uncritically and take anything of value away from it.

When I read one participant’s account of a disagreement, for instance, I don’t assume that the account is disinterested and wholly accurate. I consider, while I’m reading, whether the factual elements of the story ring true, and whether the writer’s interpretation of events seems plausible. I read the account in the context of whatever other information I may have about the writer, and of what I think I know about how the world works.

That’s, I think, what people who have spoken critically about Dworkin’s writing here have tried to do, each from our own perspective.

oh wow. I am not communicating clearly today, obviously. (not like I set the bar real high for myself anyway…)

I didn’t think I was making a value judgment in any way, when I said “adjusting for”. I didn’t think I was adjusting “up” or “down”.

Please pardon my muddled thinking, which is obviously interfering with me making my point.

Here are some examples of what I mean by taking mental illness into account:

John Adams: statesman, political writer, influential in the establishment of the USA, all-around smartyboots - had depressive episodes throughout his life. I can’t help but wonder if our lives today would be different if Adams was a cheerful optimist, in perfect mental health (such as is ever possible), or was otherwise not wrestling with depression. One can also examine what having depression meant in the late 1700s, and see how that may have influenced his writings.

Or, if you like - Thomas Jefferson. One could say the same about his intellect and influence, and one could also say the same about his level of mental health. If he had been treated for what some say was bipolar disorder, who’s to say what effect that would have had on his (highly influential) writings?

Or Hunter S. Thompson. Or Sylvia Plath.

Is it possible to examine the effects that the author’s mental health has on the work, without making value judgments as to the worth of the work?

Maybe, maybe not. I’m asking. I don’t think it “strains credulity” to ask a question.

Brooklynite, reading writing on its merits means the same thing whether it is autobiographical or not. It means accepting the reliability of the author and judging the writing itself. The way people do for Nietzche, if that makes it easier for you. (because he’s male) (PS he really was crazy)

Now saying you are “adjusting your reading” based on the author’s state of mental health, and then turning around and saying you’re adjusting up (insane creative artist myth) rather than down (crazy people don’t see reality for what it is) strains credulity, as the kids say.

I would have to give too much of my personal disability history here than I am willing to do (since BD seems intent on following me around and making oblique references to it, from the time I, regrettably, did mention it (which others have been too honourable to repeat or comment on) in order to explain. But if you read my posts here, and not from the same perspective the original post was made here, that is a disengenuous opportunistic slam at someone, you will see I am primarily, (if not always) speaking from the perspective of illness, incapacity and disability.

The question of whether mental illness informs her work to any extent, I mean.