-Heads up, this blog post is gonna get a little
steamy and a little personal, still SFW, but maybe a little blush-inducing-
So this video on consent came up and
I’m not too proud to say I waded into the comments a bit (until the cries of misandry
started). I wanted to try and refute the old “but how do I ask without killing
the mood” line. Here’s some of what I wrote for an example:
In a deep, husky voice, he put his lips close to
my ear, the warmth of his breath sending juxtaposed shivers down my spine
"you want this?" He asked.
"Fuck me" I begged, pulling her down on
to me, my hands sliding over her hips.
This got me thinking about consent
in general and the discussion we had in class on Tuesday about the line between
consent and non-consent.
For me, consent is fun, desire and
shared feelings. The idea of having sex with a person so drunk they can’t move is
just bizarre to me. It’s not fun to have sex with someone that drunk. This is
also why the “sleeping spouses” anxiety boggles my mind. Why would you get
sexually feely with your partner while they’re asleep? Sure, waking-up/morning
sex is great, but squeezing your partner’s butt without them knowing just seems
weird to me. If my partner can’t feel it why do it? I don’t understand how
anyone can think that sex is like that.
I think this might (strangely) ally
me a bit with McKinnon on consent. I think I agree that the role of desire in
consent is ignored. Asking “did they say
yes” misses the nature of consent—hell it misses the nature of sex.
I don’t think that describing
consent as a yes is enough. I think that consent is more about desire than any
specific word. If I want something and my partner wants it and we know it then
that’s consent to me. If I want to kiss, and my partner wants to kiss too and
we know it (by one of us going “kisses?” or leaning in) then there is consent
there.
A dry, bland yes at the commencement
of sexual activity isn’t consent to me. A sexy yes at the start of sex isn’t
consent to me. Consent isn’t a password that must be entered to get sex. To me,
consent is the background music of sex. Sometimes it fades into the background,
but if you’re paying attention, you can always hear it and it’s really obvious
when it’s not there.
Consent isn’t a dry list of agreed-upon
activities introduced like amendments for every act done. Consent is a mutual
exchange that can’t be condensed into a single moment of yes or no*. Consent
isn’t something that happens at one moment, consent is constant.
Consent to me is my hand sliding
down my partner’s chest. Consent is him pulling me towards him and kissing my
neck. Consent is me pulling his shirt over his head while he unbuttons my
jeans. Consent is him kissing my breast while I pull his hair. Consent is our
bodies writhing in desire, responding to each touch and thrill. Consent is me
asking “How do you want me” and him answering “I just want you now”.
And that is hot as fuck.
*This definition makes legal arguments easier,
but I feel like it fails to grasp the nature of consent. I recognize that my definition is legally cumbersome.
Holly,
ReplyDeleteI agree with you: consent is hot.
And the age-old “well, do I need to sign a contract before I giving a kiss goodnight?”-myth should be broken by insisting that consent is more dynamic and playful than a “bland yes.” Given what we have read, and our conversations in class consent education is lacking, and we need more of it. My CSL project with GBVPP aims to do this, in part, through projecting consent-based messaging around campus. The text we will be projecting contains simple messaging--describing what consent is not, and what consent is. Advocating for consent is incredibly important, especially given the high standard for consent within canadian law (that exists in stark contrast to the general public’s knowledge).
This being said, I need to make an intervention into your trivializing of instances of non-consensual sex. There seems to be more at play than “if my partner can’t feel it why do it?” There is something inescapably sexual about non-consensual sex. And perhaps something more complicated than just asking (even though, when advocating for consent we don’t like to acknowledge it). Because of the way you discuss non-consensual sex--as something that “just seems weird to [you]”--I do not think you ally with McKinnon. It seems as though McKinnon’s focus is, not enthusiastic yes’, but rather the impossibility of a freely chosen yes. She is critical of the liberal ‘yes’ and acknowledges the insidiousness and sexualized nature of violences against women--and that non-consensual sex is a reflection of this.
As much as I would also like to say that it is common sense that one should not desire an unconscious person, we know that this is not the case. While I acknowledge that you blog entry is focusing on the playful possibilities of consent, and I support your advocacy for and sexy ways of educating the internet on consent, I also think that it is also important to keep in mind that non-consensual sex is just as nuanced as consent can be.
Ah, yes, I think I wasn't clear enough there, sorry.
ReplyDeleteI agree with you that non-consensual sex and the enacting of power on someone's body is a powerful (and sexual) thing. I wasn’t trying to de-sexualize rape in that way.
I was more trying to speak to the acceptance of rape myths, not by rapists themselves (though they do also operate on rape myths) but by society as large. I wasn't speaking to rapists, as much as rape apologists. I don’t understand how a judge can think that sex with an immobile person is consensual. I understand how that’s sexual and empowering for the rapist. I don’t understand how people outside of that act can look at it and see it as something consensual or even remotely voluntary.
I understand (to a degree) why a rapist does those things. I don’t understand why other people look at the acts done by the rapist and go “seems legit”. That’s the thought process that confuses me so much.
I feel like this is also tied in with the backlash when dealing with date rape. The backlash isn’t (entirely) rapists trying to solidify their impunity to keep raping. But there still seems to be a concerted effort to keep pleasure and enjoyment separate from the concept of consent.
This is where I think McKinnon and I might find some common ground, I don’t just think consent is hot, I think mutual pleasure and enjoyment are critical parts of consent. I feel like framing consent around sexual assault instead of pleasure is missing a big part of the picture. When we frame consent as a legal definition rather than just part of sex it can seem like it’s something added on to sex. When consent is framed as the constant background of sex, the thing that makes sex enjoyable, it seems much less like a thing you’d need a lawyer for and more like the most important part of sex. It seems less like something you could miss in the haze of alcohol and desire.
Again, to be clear, I’m not speaking to rapists, but to rape myths. When consent is framed not as a legal question, but as part of sex itself it’s much harder to accept rape myths. I don’t know if it’s the solution to rape culture as a whole, but maybe it will help deal with some of the backlash.