Create successful ePaper yourself
Turn your PDF publications into a flip-book with our unique Google optimized e-Paper software.
266<br />
barbara mennel<br />
Davis claims internalized oppression as a result of <strong>the</strong> reprimand in<br />
<strong>the</strong> feminist public sphere. The victimization of <strong>the</strong> s/m lesbians is<br />
described through detailed accusations of <strong>the</strong> abuse committed by<br />
feminist “authoritative reprimands,” “trashing,” “censure,” and “treatment.”<br />
Thus, <strong>the</strong> paradigmatic tables of feminist analysis are turned and<br />
feminists are cast as perpetrators of discursive violence against women<br />
who practice s/m.<br />
Robin Ruth Linden (Linden, Pagano, & Russell, 1982), <strong>the</strong> author<br />
of “Introduction: Against Sadomasochism” of <strong>the</strong> collection Against<br />
Sadomasochism, claims a victim position vis-à-vis <strong>the</strong> visible signs of s/m<br />
in <strong>the</strong> gay area of San Francisco, <strong>the</strong> Castro:<br />
I live in <strong>the</strong> Castro district of San Francisco, a gay quarter of <strong>the</strong><br />
city. Almost every day I walk <strong>the</strong> short distance to <strong>the</strong> heart of Castro<br />
Street, down <strong>the</strong> foothills of Twin Peaks, to shop or do errands. . . . As<br />
a woman alone, I feel like a visitor to a foreign country. It’s not that<br />
gay men necessarily are hostile to women; actually, <strong>the</strong>y are more or<br />
less oblivious. This invisibility can be a blessing in disguise; it lends<br />
a sense of safety when I’m walking after dark, freedom from <strong>the</strong> fear<br />
of threat: nameless, amorphous. The passion is cold, at times almost<br />
macabre.<br />
It is commonplace to see men with black lea<strong>the</strong>r collars and leashes<br />
around <strong>the</strong>ir necks to indicate <strong>the</strong>y are sexual “slaves”—masochists;<br />
men with padlocks clasped around <strong>the</strong>ir throats, ano<strong>the</strong>r sign of sexual<br />
“enslavement”; men in military uniforms sometimes bearing swastikas;<br />
men with color-coded handkerchiefs neatly folded in <strong>the</strong>ir hip pockets,<br />
indicating <strong>the</strong>ir preferred sexual role and practices. After several years<br />
I have become accustomed to seeing men wearing <strong>the</strong> paraphernalia<br />
of sadomasochism: studded black lea<strong>the</strong>r belts, handcuffs dangling<br />
from pockets, black lea<strong>the</strong>r gloves, chains, devices I don’t recognize<br />
fl anking <strong>the</strong> hips of passersby. But recently, <strong>the</strong>re is an occasional<br />
woman in similar dress. (pp. 1–2)<br />
Linden sets <strong>the</strong> stage for her description of s/m by positioning herself<br />
in a state of vulnerable womanhood: a woman alone at night among<br />
men. Despite <strong>the</strong> qualifying reference to gay men’s obliviousness toward<br />
women, <strong>the</strong> “nameless, amorphous” “threat” to femininity rhetorically<br />
foreshadows <strong>the</strong> threat of sadomasochism.<br />
The rhetorical positioning vis-à-vis <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>rwise marginal public<br />
sphere of feminism and male gay culture turns <strong>the</strong> position of <strong>the</strong><br />
narrator into one of victimization, which, in turn, entitles <strong>the</strong> narrator<br />
to a moral position. In both cases, <strong>the</strong> rhetoric of victimhood relies on