The Spinster and Her Enemies - Feminish
The Spinster and Her Enemies - Feminish
The Spinster and Her Enemies - Feminish
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PREFACE TO 1997 EDITION<br />
Blackman, Mary McIntosh, Sue O’Sullivan, Pratibha Parmar<br />
<strong>and</strong> Alison Read say they will challenge the feminist<br />
antipornography campaigns taking place in the UK at that time<br />
which they accuse of having ‘grossly distorted the issues by<br />
relying on a simplistic moralism <strong>and</strong> a crude essentialism’<br />
(Blackman et al., 1990, p.2). This issue is the antidote. It<br />
contains a piece by Mary Hunt, a sexual libertarian American<br />
lesbian, entitled, <strong>The</strong> De-eroticisation of Women’s Liberation:<br />
Social Purity Movements <strong>and</strong> the Revolutionary Feminism of<br />
Sheila Jeffreys’. Hunt makes it clear that her main concern is<br />
with the radical/revolutionary feminist critique of<br />
sadomasochism as a sexual practice. She was an angry critic of<br />
a speech I made at a conference in 1987 in Massachusetts on<br />
‘Sexuality <strong>and</strong> Power’ which was entitled, ‘Eroticising women’s<br />
subordination from Havelock Ellis to Gayle Rubin’. <strong>Her</strong> critique<br />
here centres on my interpretation of nineteenth-century feminist<br />
anti-sexual violence campaigners.<br />
According to Hunt, my book reflects a tradition of<br />
‘revolutionary feminism (or “radical feminism” as we tend to<br />
call it in the USA)’ which defines ‘the vast majority of women<br />
in the world as helpless victims who need to be saved’ (Hunt,<br />
1990, p.24). <strong>The</strong> revolutionary feminist approach is ‘reductionist<br />
<strong>and</strong> exclusionary’, ‘disturbing’, ‘uncritical’, ‘astounding’. This<br />
was a surprise since I had done my best to complicate the<br />
discussion of this period in the history of sexuality <strong>and</strong> sought<br />
to show exactly what late-nineteenth-century feminists were<br />
thinking. Some of their ideas could be seen as approximating<br />
to traditional morality, whilst others constituted radical<br />
transformations of thinking about sex; questioning all of men’s<br />
prerogatives within marriage <strong>and</strong> without, questioning the<br />
biological imperative <strong>and</strong> the double st<strong>and</strong>ard, <strong>and</strong> the authority<br />
of fathers. An enthusiasm for pornography seems to inspire her<br />
rage at my work. Some women, she says, ‘like <strong>and</strong> feel<br />
empowered by pornography’ (Ibid., p.43). <strong>The</strong> revolutionary<br />
feminist approach would ‘keep us tied to the most cautious,<br />
conformist, guilt-ridden <strong>and</strong> rigid of personal, ideological <strong>and</strong><br />
sexual styles’ (Ibid., p.40). In the same year that her angry<br />
critique was published, my second book, Anticlimax, developed<br />
an even more detailed analysis of what was wrong with the<br />
sexuality of dominance <strong>and</strong> submission <strong>and</strong> called for the pursuit<br />
of ‘homosexual desire’ or a sexuality which eroticised equality<br />
instead of the eroticised difference of power which was<br />
exemplified in ‘heterosexual desire’ (Jeffreys, 1990). Since I was<br />
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