{"title":"Women, incarcerated: narratives from India","authors":"Shreejata Niyogi","doi":"10.1080/09589236.2023.2215661","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"than is often considered. The book closes with an epilogue stepping into the 1980s to combine feminist film and science fiction by examining Lizzie Borden’s 1983 film Born in flames. Even among feminist critics, there was disagreement over the film seemingly advocating violence. Samer argues that while feminist documentary and experimental film and feminist science fiction ostensibly did the same thing – ‘engender[ing] the vast imagination of what might follow the Lesbian in her wake’ (p. 218) – they did not intertwine often, and Samer found little evidence of overlap in participation. The ‘intensity’ of Born in flames’ reception was, Samer argues, due to it being one of the few pieces of media that engages both genres and ‘reveals that lesbian potentiality was not for all’ (p. 218). Samer makes clear that this book is a reaction to the erasure of lesbian feminism in modern queer studies. They argue that queer studies, in the dismissal of 1970s lesbian feminism, in fact, perpetuates hegemonic white feminist histories, which ignored the key roles played by women of colour as well as trans and gender non-conforming feminists. Contrary to this dominant discourse, Samer argues that trans lesbians were central to the creation of lesbian feminist cultures and spaces. ‘This era does not belong to transphobic feminists, and trans and queer scholars should not cede it to them’, Samer writes (p. 33). Furthermore, they argue, ‘[t]he writing of feminist historiography need not stall in the face of trans existence. Trans existence does not erase, replace, or diminish cis lesbian existence’ (p. 34). This is one of the greatest strengths of the book: Samer, a self-described nonbinary queer scholar, argues that both the heteropatriarchy and queer studies share what Sara Ahmed has described as ‘the investment in [the] misery’ of the lesbian feminist, a figure that queer studies has found ‘particularly deserving of derision’ (p. 8). They find the current literature lacking in regard to lesbian feminists, particularly of the 1970s, and with Lesbian potentiality and feminist media in the 1970s, they seek to change the discourse.","PeriodicalId":15911,"journal":{"name":"Journal of Gender Studies","volume":"32 1","pages":"515 - 517"},"PeriodicalIF":2.2000,"publicationDate":"2023-05-23","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"0","resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":null,"PeriodicalName":"Journal of Gender Studies","FirstCategoryId":"90","ListUrlMain":"https://doi.org/10.1080/09589236.2023.2215661","RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"社会学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":null,"EPubDate":"","PubModel":"","JCR":"Q2","JCRName":"SOCIAL ISSUES","Score":null,"Total":0}
引用次数: 0
Abstract
than is often considered. The book closes with an epilogue stepping into the 1980s to combine feminist film and science fiction by examining Lizzie Borden’s 1983 film Born in flames. Even among feminist critics, there was disagreement over the film seemingly advocating violence. Samer argues that while feminist documentary and experimental film and feminist science fiction ostensibly did the same thing – ‘engender[ing] the vast imagination of what might follow the Lesbian in her wake’ (p. 218) – they did not intertwine often, and Samer found little evidence of overlap in participation. The ‘intensity’ of Born in flames’ reception was, Samer argues, due to it being one of the few pieces of media that engages both genres and ‘reveals that lesbian potentiality was not for all’ (p. 218). Samer makes clear that this book is a reaction to the erasure of lesbian feminism in modern queer studies. They argue that queer studies, in the dismissal of 1970s lesbian feminism, in fact, perpetuates hegemonic white feminist histories, which ignored the key roles played by women of colour as well as trans and gender non-conforming feminists. Contrary to this dominant discourse, Samer argues that trans lesbians were central to the creation of lesbian feminist cultures and spaces. ‘This era does not belong to transphobic feminists, and trans and queer scholars should not cede it to them’, Samer writes (p. 33). Furthermore, they argue, ‘[t]he writing of feminist historiography need not stall in the face of trans existence. Trans existence does not erase, replace, or diminish cis lesbian existence’ (p. 34). This is one of the greatest strengths of the book: Samer, a self-described nonbinary queer scholar, argues that both the heteropatriarchy and queer studies share what Sara Ahmed has described as ‘the investment in [the] misery’ of the lesbian feminist, a figure that queer studies has found ‘particularly deserving of derision’ (p. 8). They find the current literature lacking in regard to lesbian feminists, particularly of the 1970s, and with Lesbian potentiality and feminist media in the 1970s, they seek to change the discourse.
期刊介绍:
The Journal of Gender Studies is an interdisciplinary journal which publishes articles relating to gender from a feminist perspective covering a wide range of subject areas including the Social and Natural Sciences, Arts and Popular Culture. Reviews of books and details of forthcoming conferences are also included. The Journal of Gender Studies seeks articles from international sources and aims to take account of a diversity of cultural backgrounds and differences in sexual orientation. It encourages contributions which focus on the experiences of both women and men and welcomes articles, written from a feminist perspective, relating to femininity and masculinity and to the social constructions of relationships between men and women.