{"title":"Roe and Our Dystopic Imagination","authors":"Heather Latimer","doi":"10.1353/fem.2022.0056","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"As I write this it has been three weeks since Roe v. Wade was overturned, and the original purpose of this forum — to revisit Roe retrospectively and contemporarily on its fiftieth anniversary — has taken on a new tone and meaning. When I proposed this short essay, I wanted to explore why dystopian narratives have become so popular for representing abortion politics over the last five decades. But the answer to that question seems obvious — what is about to happen in many states is dystopic. Indeed, Roe’s fall supports the idea that the genre is a form of realism, as Fredric Jameson has suggested.18 However, it is precisely because of the bleakness of this moment that I want to focus on the relationship between dystopian narratives and abortion politics. While antiabortionists and the Supreme Court may wish to frame Roe’s fall as a constitutional matter, this is a culture war, and how we talk about abortion in this moment will help set the terms of the debate going forward. So while I may no longer need to question dystopia’s appeal, I do have a related set of questions about its allegorical use in a post-Roe world. As headlines declare that we now live in The Handmaid’s Tale, it is clear that the genre has become a touchstone for representing abortion, but what are the effects of turning to dystopian tropes, themes, and storylines to make sense of anti-abortion laws and policies? What might this genre help us understand in this new moment of criminalization of pregnancies not resulting in births? First, I think the genre is a form of hyperrealism that clearly and purposefully engages with the real-life criminalization of abortion, which has been the reality for years and across many states, well before the Dobbs decision. Several authors of recent dystopian novels, for instance, have represented reproductive scenarios that are no more or less misogynistic and repressive than recent changes to the law. For example, Louise Erdrich’s recent novel, Future Home of the Living God, depicts a near-future United States where climate change has led to a fertility crisis. In response, the evangelical government bans abortion, invokes the Patriot","PeriodicalId":35884,"journal":{"name":"Feminist Studies","volume":"48 1","pages":"835 - 838"},"PeriodicalIF":0.5000,"publicationDate":"2023-03-16","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"0","resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":null,"PeriodicalName":"Feminist Studies","FirstCategoryId":"1085","ListUrlMain":"https://doi.org/10.1353/fem.2022.0056","RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"社会学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":null,"EPubDate":"","PubModel":"","JCR":"Q3","JCRName":"WOMENS STUDIES","Score":null,"Total":0}
引用次数: 0
Abstract
As I write this it has been three weeks since Roe v. Wade was overturned, and the original purpose of this forum — to revisit Roe retrospectively and contemporarily on its fiftieth anniversary — has taken on a new tone and meaning. When I proposed this short essay, I wanted to explore why dystopian narratives have become so popular for representing abortion politics over the last five decades. But the answer to that question seems obvious — what is about to happen in many states is dystopic. Indeed, Roe’s fall supports the idea that the genre is a form of realism, as Fredric Jameson has suggested.18 However, it is precisely because of the bleakness of this moment that I want to focus on the relationship between dystopian narratives and abortion politics. While antiabortionists and the Supreme Court may wish to frame Roe’s fall as a constitutional matter, this is a culture war, and how we talk about abortion in this moment will help set the terms of the debate going forward. So while I may no longer need to question dystopia’s appeal, I do have a related set of questions about its allegorical use in a post-Roe world. As headlines declare that we now live in The Handmaid’s Tale, it is clear that the genre has become a touchstone for representing abortion, but what are the effects of turning to dystopian tropes, themes, and storylines to make sense of anti-abortion laws and policies? What might this genre help us understand in this new moment of criminalization of pregnancies not resulting in births? First, I think the genre is a form of hyperrealism that clearly and purposefully engages with the real-life criminalization of abortion, which has been the reality for years and across many states, well before the Dobbs decision. Several authors of recent dystopian novels, for instance, have represented reproductive scenarios that are no more or less misogynistic and repressive than recent changes to the law. For example, Louise Erdrich’s recent novel, Future Home of the Living God, depicts a near-future United States where climate change has led to a fertility crisis. In response, the evangelical government bans abortion, invokes the Patriot
当我写这篇文章的时候,距离罗伊诉韦德案被推翻已经过去了三个星期,而这个论坛的最初目的——在罗伊案50周年之际回顾它的历史和当代——已经有了新的基调和意义。当我提出这篇短文时,我想探讨为什么反乌托邦叙事在过去50年里如此流行,因为它代表了堕胎政治。但这个问题的答案似乎显而易见——许多州即将发生的事情是反乌托邦的。事实上,正如弗雷德里克·詹姆森所指出的那样,罗伊的堕落支持了这种体裁是一种现实主义形式的观点然而,正是因为这一时刻的凄凉,我才想关注反乌托邦叙事与堕胎政治之间的关系。虽然反堕胎者和最高法院可能希望将罗伊案的判决框定为宪法问题,但这是一场文化战争,我们在这个时刻如何谈论堕胎,将有助于为未来的辩论设定条件。因此,虽然我可能不再需要质疑反乌托邦的吸引力,但我确实有一系列相关的问题,关于它在后罗伊案件时代的寓言用途。随着头条新闻宣称我们现在生活在《使女的故事》中,很明显,这种类型已经成为代表堕胎的试金石,但转向反乌托邦的比喻、主题和故事情节来理解反堕胎的法律和政策会产生什么影响呢?在这个将未生育的怀孕定为犯罪的新时代,这种体裁能帮助我们理解什么?首先,我认为这种类型是一种超现实主义的形式,它明确而有目的地与现实生活中的堕胎犯罪化相结合,这是多年来在许多州的现实,早在多布斯判决之前。例如,最近几位反乌托邦小说的作者所描绘的生殖场景,与最近法律的变化相比,并没有多少歧视女性和压抑女性。例如,路易斯·厄德里奇(Louise Erdrich)最近的小说《永生上帝的未来家园》(Future Home of the Living God)描绘了不久的将来,气候变化导致了生育危机的美国。作为回应,福音派政府禁止堕胎,援引《爱国者》