...In which our heroine gives a gift.

A confession, dear readers; I've turned into quite a nice little feminist this semester. Through learning that the true definition of feminism is simply "equal treatment for both men and women," my domestic violence writing class, Culture Race and Media, and some very snarky male film majors, I've become much more assured in my abilities as a woman, and the flawed portrayals of women that the media presents.
This is my final paper for said domestic violence writing class, and one I promised to share with Quarternotelife, posted here because it is still her birthday my time. This is a gift you've helped me work on for years -I feel like this is the paper the two of us spent a childhood researching as we shrieked and giggled in her dark basement. We'd make good case studies about the women who love horror films, and the effects that viewing violence from a young age has. Be warned though, it is fairly academic as I try to be all edumacated and stuff...

Virgins Live, Sluts Die, and the Final Girl Always Wins: The Role of Women in Horror Films
We've all seen it – a scantily clad young woman runs through a house, stalked by a masked killer. Her chest and breasts heave under a tight shirt as she flees the killer, often portrayed as hyper-masculine. Often times, as much focus is placed on what the woman is wearing as the amount of danger she is in. Also common is that this woman has been shown as the “slut” throughout the rest of the film, and acts of violence often accompany acts of sexual expression. Look to any of the major money-making horror franchises – Friday the 13^th, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, A Nightmare on Elm Street, Halloween – and you will find that women are objectified, hyper-sexualized, and meet violent, brutally gory ends. A more disturbing thought then is that a large portion of the audience for these films is young males – what messages do they receive about the effect of violence on women, especially women who express their sexuality. Horror films can be cheaply made, and produce healthy profits, making them a great investment for film producers (Clover 18). Thus, horror films are here to stay, but what exactly do they say about violence towards women? Perhaps more interestingly than the culture of violence they promote, what do horror films say about women in positions of power, such as Ellen Ripley in the Alien films (Stephens)? Or, could horror films even promote feminist ideas with the centralization of a “final girl” who triumphs over horrific obstacles to escape victorious, an idea widely explored by Carol J. Clover in her book Men, Women, and Chainsaws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film (Clover). The exploration of these ideas will be the focus of this paper, as will a study of if horror films have an impact on their male viewers.
The role of sexuality of female characters in relation to the violence perpetrated against them is perhaps the most disturbing aspect of horror films. In a few major examples, the horrors that commonly exist in many horror films get a violently sexual twist on them. One of the most notorious horror films of all time, I Spit on Your Grave, was released in 1978, and featured its female protagonist being gang-raped, beaten, and left for dead by several rednecks (she ultimately extracts various forms of revenge on them including cutting off one of their penises) (I Spit On). In 1981, Sam Raimi's The Evil Dead featured one female character gets dragged through the woods before ultimately being stripped, beaten, and raped by possessed tree branches (The Evil Dead). Released several years later, Stuart Gordon's Re-Animator featured a restrained naked woman screaming in terror as a severed head performed oral sex on her (Re-Animator). Unfortunately, this trend has continued into the 1990s and 2000s: 2007's Hostel: Part II prominently featured one female character hung naked from the ceiling, gagged, and throat slit with a scythe as another woman lay below her, drawing orgasmic glee from it (Hostel: Part II). With these examples and countless others, it becomes apparent that the link between a woman's sexuality and her own death or torture is prevalent in many horror films. Earlier examples include 1978's Halloween and 1980's Friday the 13^th in which a sex act is directly followed by the murder of the female participants (Halloween, Friday the 13^th).
Women who do not exhibit their sexuality in horror films fall into the role of what Carol J. Clover calls the “final girl” (Clover 260). The final girl is often portrayed as more innocent than her other female peers, virginal, and far less sexual. Clover describes the final girl as a “double for the adolescent male... a homoerotic stand-in,” meaning that the final girl does not threaten the masculinity of the male characters within, and could easily be substituted for a male character (Clover 261). Her femininity is repressed to the point where she becomes just like the males within the film. However, Clover explains this phenomenon as actually being a feminist issue, stating that the final girl “triumphs over her the perversity of her tormentor, and in the process undergoes a change from passive acceptance to active dominance” (Clover 260). However, Clover makes no mention of the fact that in this change from passive to active, the final girl is still not allowed to be sexualized or get any pride out of the fact that she is a woman – an example of this would be of the character of Kirsty in Hellraiser, who does ultimately triumph over the evil Cenobites, but yet is left to languish in oversized t-shirts and no make-up, further relating her to her male counterparts and squashing her female characteristics (Hellraiser).
However, there are horror films that transcend both sexual violence against women as well as the final girl mythology. One of the most prominent examples would be the Alien films, featuring Ellen Ripley as a protagonist who bests her male counterparts to defeat the alien. Daniel Stephens, a horror blogger, explains how Ripley functions in the film and subverts her male co-horts: “Ripley is the strong female character who makes active judgements and survives what is trying to kill her. The male character's activity is largely passive - most die quickly, others wait for her command. It is Ripley who makes the plan to defeat the alien which works, while the 'powerless' male Captain makes bad judgements as his unsure plan fails” (Stephens 1). While it could be argued that Ripley is in face de-feminized – with her job as a lift operator, the baggy space suits she wears – it is in the second film, Aliens, when her former life as a mother is explained as she is given the chance to care for the orphaned Newt, and she is allowed to maintain a major part of her femininity that other female protagonists in horror films must relinquish (Aliens). However, the treatment of the other female characters in Aliens, two space marines, fall prey to the horror movie trap of being masculinized and even accused of being lesbians (Aliens). Another film, 2006's The Descent features a core of strong female characters who find cannibalistic creatures as they independently explore underground caves. On the surface, it appears that the women subvert the usual horror film trappings, when only two are left and trying to survive, they end up battling against each other over the infidelity surrounding one of their husbands (The Descent). Unfortunately, it is difficult to come up with a fully positive portrayal of women in horror films, and as explained, even Aliens and The Descent, which appear to be feminist horror films on the surface, fall victim to the same trappings as their genre competitors.
It becomes apparent that the horror films certainly show a skewed view of women, but what effect does this have on the viewer? Daniel Goleman explores what exactly horror films to do the viewer in his 1984 essay “Violence Against Women in Films.” For male viewers, the numbers are quite disturbing: one in three men becomes sexually stimulated when viewing acts of extreme violence towards women, while another one out of three is aroused even when the violence is non-sexual (Goleman 1). The statistics come from a 1983 survey from the American Psychological Association that also found after five days of viewing horror films and then presented with a mock rape trial, the males surveyed sided with the rapist over the rape victim (Goleman). The same effects were not drawn from test males in the group who did not watch the horror films, or even watched hardcore pornography such as Debbie Does Dallas (Goleman). Though this survey is twenty-five years old, it does present some terrifying statistics in terms of how horror films and their treatment of women affect male viewers. Feminist author Myriam Miedzian supports this idea in her essay “How Rape is Encouraged in American Boys,” and uses the same study from the American Psychological Association to conclude that of the “ two hundred and thirty five studies done over the last forty years [the idea that] viewing violence helps viewers get violent impulses out of their systems is a mistake. Viewing violence encourages violent behavior”(Miedzian 156). While statistics and facts about the exact number of men that exact violent behavior on women because they've seen violent acts against women in horror films can't be stated definitively, the evidence certainly seems that it viewing such films is not a totally innocuous act.
However, men are not the only viewers or producers of horror films. Pet Sematary, Near Dark, and American Psycho are three tremendously violent films that all feature acts of violence against women, yet were all directed, and in the case of Near Dark and American Psycho, written by women (Pet Sematary, Near Dark, American Psycho). In a New York Times article, “Taking Back the Knife: Girls Gone Gory,” lesbian author Rita Mae Brown, who wrote a satirical horror film in 1982 with The Slumber Party Massacre, states that the reason she believes horror films to be so popular amongst women is that “films in general, not just horror films, are one of the few places left for women to make progress” (Orange). The article also discusses how women can appreciate Clover's “final girl” theory as a means of feminist catharsis - “audiences love a woman who can take back the knife” (Orange). Perhaps it is for this sense of empowerment and a reclaiming of violated rights, both of mind and body, by masked killers, that makes horror films so tremendously appealing to women.

The topic of the effect of violence against women in horror films, or what exactly makes the “final girl” formula so appealing has not been studied extensively enough to draw major conclusions about the issues. What can be said however, is that the extreme and prevalent acts of violence against women in horror films do have an adverse effect on their male viewers if seen in large quantities. What can also be said is that perhaps a truly realistic portrayal of a woman in a horror film has never occurred, but then again, the media is notorious for stereotyping and making generalizations about all groups, not just women. For the time being, the final girl will continue to triumph over her male counterparts in horror films, and until female screenwriters decide to change the formula, audiences will continue to delight as she takes back the knife.

Isaac Brock is another rock star whose children I'd gladly bear -

...In which our heroine strikes a pose.

I posed for Emily's studio final a few weeks ago, and just got some of the prints back. Her concept is atypical femininity - we both agree that this is the first time that we've had more female than male friends. I really like the photos, and to me there just another stepping stone in this year's acceptance of my body, and my place as a woman in the world. Her skills as a photographer continue to improve, and these are just some of the awesome prints she's done. The ones she did of Heidi as a mother are particularly fabulous. But today you just get me, particularly highlighting the contrast between my obsession with keeping my nails done yet having some very prominent tattoos.

...In which our heroine addresses the elephant.

That's Crystal Renn, my obsession of the moment. She is so naturalistically beautiful - the hair, the lips, the eyes. She's a plus size model now, at 165 pounds, 5"9, but entered the industry at 95 pounds:

Yeah...I don't think there's a question on what looks better. She's just written a book called Hungry: A Young Model's Story of Appetite, Ambition, and the Ultimate Embrace of Curves, which I've yet to pick up. Renn says she gets more work now as a plus-size model, worked for Dolce and Gabbana, and even closed a Jean-Paul Gaultier show in Paris last year.

For me, seeing her do this is a revelation. It marks a slight change I've noticed in the fashion industry in accepting more normal body sizes - not that 5"9, 165, is normal, but it is an improvement. It makes me feel great that young girls who aren't a size XS can have someone to look to up to. I look at Renn, and say "hey, my thighs look like that too!"

I've written and re-written this post about a thousand times because I never know how to say exactly what it is I want to. I've come to terms with a lot of issues about my body this first year of college. Maybe it's being out of the bubble of high school, and maybe it's not being sixteen, but for the first time in my life I can say I love my body. It has taken me a long time to come to terms with this, that'll my Applachian-bred hips will never fit a size four, that yes models have cellulite too, it just gets airbrushed away.

Growing up, I had absolutely no positive role models of women who were curvy, plus-sized, fat, whatever, in the media. No one. My family was always making sly comments about "could I just cut back a little," and my mom, as much as I love her, has always compared me to her, if I would just eat fewer carbs and smoke two packs a day, I could be just like her. I remember seeing Real Women Have Curves in seventh grade and for once finally feeling like I wasn't alone. I can't help but think more positive images of women in the media - and I'm not even talking plus-sized, I'm talking more womanly, like Christina Hendricks, Liv Tyler, America Ferrara, or Kim Kardashian, would have made me accept my body and all of its wonderful flaws sooner.

In the past couple years, I've noticed more and more big girls getting exposure in the media - aside from Renn, I've seen Mia Tyler, Kate Dillon, and Lizzie Miller all in print ads recently. Glamour, praise them, ran a story recently about how they are going to try and portray more realistic images of women in their magazine. To this photo from the issue, I say bravo.

It is simply ridiculous to think the size zero, airbrushed and photoshopped like there's no tomorrow women that permeate the media are reality. I really hope that this trend continues. I hope more stores like Torrid or Forever 21's new plus sized line, Faith 21, pop up that give girls options to stay fashionable. I know it would've helped me.

I get bothered by the fact that fat really is that last taboo. In my Culture, Race, and Media class and we were talking about that stupid More to Love plus-sized dating show. I made a comment about hating watching the poor fat girls cry because I've learned being a fat girl and crying about it does not make you more attractive to men. People fumbled in their desks. My teacher changed the subject. It's the elephant in the room - I'm fat, let's talk about it.

I lost a bunch of weight the summer after seventh grade - when my diet consisted of McDonald's and candy bars, going from a very unhealthy 225 to 190, and the goal then was a size 10. Right now, I'm a size 12, thin as I've been, since no joke, third grade, probably as I ever will be. I realized one day that I could lose weight, exercise more, eat better, but who couldn't? If I wasn't fat, I simply wouldn't be me. I look exactly like the women on my dad's side of the family - dark-haired, fat arms and hips meant for child wrangling - and I've learned to take pride in this. I'm never going to be as skinny as a lot of my peers, but the average sized woman is now a size 16, so what is normal anymore?

I wish someone would have instilled in me that I was beautiful just as I was at an earlier age, or that I would've had women in the media to look up to. Hopefully, with models like Crystal Renn and the trend of more realistic beauty, girls entering adolescence today won't have to sigh and fret as much as I did.

I was shopping with Emily at Forever 21 today and she told me that she loves how I accept my body and dress it well, without trying to be something I'm not. Still, I laughed because Forever 21's clothes rarely fit me: my boobs are too big. Hey, there's one fantastic benefit of being a curvy girl. It took me a long time to find my confidence, and there are still times when I get looked at and think 'is he really checking me out," and those days when nothing in my closet looks good on me, but I've learned to love myself, and for that, I am thankful.

It's also Katydid in the City's 200th post, so I thought I'd get personal. Happy blogging milestone and sheer geekery!

As if I could write about real women and their curves with showcasing the delightful Joan Holloway, who was FINALLY back in fine form in last night's episode.

...In which our heroine is ill.

You know what sucks? Is when the antibiotic you're taking for your sinus infection works well for that, but makes you so sick you can't eat without puking. Or drink anything beyond green tea. But I can breath. Tough call there.

I officially broke up with Glee tonight. So much potential - too much in fact. Something I read today mentioned how they liked slow-burning story-lines more. I agree. Only three episodes of Mad Men left. Le sigh.

In all probability, I'll be going to the third, just announced Pixies show simply because: why not. How many more chances will I have to see them (few), and the opening band for that show is Bad Lieutenant, which features Bernard Sumner of New Order/Joy Division fame, which is as close as I'll ever get to seeing them. I digress.

Pre-production, and my first editing project are due tomorrow. I cannot believe it is midterms already, despite the fact that I only have one, and it's a project. I'm still not excited about my group for the film, but I can't do anything about it. I did make a couple of friends in that class - Leah, who has the most proficient liquid eyeliner skills I've ever seen, and Daniel, who ironically enough I met last year through you-know-who. They were roommates. Small world. We created the whiskey commercial scene from Lost in Translation Tuesday in class which was pretty fantastic. Set design and hair/make-up done by yours truly.

This is a ramble-y sort of post, just less artful. I ran into the boys tonight - smoking outside of Harold's Chicken, unsurprisingly - and I think Ben was actually glad to see me. I thank him for not being an asshole. Take note, men.

What is with the number of pregnant girls/moms I know on Facebook? There is not a more terrifying thought than being a mommy. You are girls indeed, not women, and birth control is $9 a month at your local Walmart. Being adult enough to have sex means you're adult enough to have a baby too, not get your bellybutton pierced afterwards. Kids today...

...In which our heroine is the midnight rambler.

Ramble, ramble, ramble since we seem to not only like them, but make some of our own.

The Facebook online box is a list of former lovers. It always it hits me when more than one of them is on at the same time. Someone who you've shared you're most intimate moments with is reduced to no more than a green dot and a tiny profile picture. Technology, what a weird thing. Not even former lovers. Former classmates who I spent nine hours a day with are reduced to no more than "WHO DEY" status updates and changed profile pictures. The wind is howling fierce outside and I love watching it rain from this height. I look at the Sears Tower, clouded in fog, and think of Ben, always. There's a tiny cockroach shimmying across the carpet, but he's too small to kill. There's also a spider that lives behind my tapestry but every time I try to kill him it just retreats back up. Fall is in the air and I can't put into words how the chill in the air and Sundays spent hitting these buttons makes me nostalgic. I miss my house in the winter and I miss taking it down and passing it around in my upstairs, when it was still something forbidden and fun and not a lifestyle. I haven't smoked or drank in a month which was longer than I went with mono. Bugs thinks I'm looking down on his current activities because of this, but really I'm just tired of the stoner lifestyle. Most of my peers indulge and I feel like I'm being holier than thou for living clean. The cockroach is migrating towards my DVD shelf and now "Crazy Mary" is in my head. Who really cares if their eyelashes aren't thick enough, Latisse? Mascara works just fine. Mad Men is more perfect than I can say and it inspires me to say less and show more. Which completely goes against the point of this. I spent four hours tonight writing about race and gender and I don't really give a shit about analyzing either. I will saying Writing Women Safe is both awesome and nauseating. When the woman, Tara Dabney, came from Family Rescue this week and said that in an abusive relationship, the woman feels like no matter what she does will ever be enough, I dug my nails into my palms and tried to make my stomach stop doing the hot/cold thing that happens when I'm excited or terrified. That class is making me perceive my life and my relationships in a new way. I need to call my grandma and aunt, but every time I do they make me feel like shit for being here. Sorry, I need to live my own life and that I don't have a three-year old right now. The spider veins in my thighs remind me I'm theirs, purple and fragmented despite the fact I'm not even twenty. Emily has them too which makes me feel not as horrible. A Johnny Cash song I don't know the name to, one line from it is on repeat. I played one level 47 times in Crash Bandicoot tonight before passing it and cursing every word I know. Then I lost on the next level, of course. We're under a tornado watch tonight so I won't sleep, the wind howling. I'm getting to be an expert at cat naps but my dreams have been especially vivid. Bachelor No. 1 keeps coming to kill me in them, or comes back to school. I wake up and can't go back to sleep. Tool Academy, now there's some deep television programming. They could shoot it in my building this year. I keep seeing cute boys in the film building but they all seem so old. Another mascara commercial - I don't even know what brand I wear, just that the tube is yellow and purple. I made the fatal mistake of finding out Cookie Jar blizzards have a thousand calories, but that won't stop me from using my dollar off coupon. I eat so poorly when school starts. I've had a headache for five days and my immune system is doing its best. I refuse to get a flu shot, swine or otherwise, or use hand sanitizer. Wash your hands, drink your OJ, do something nice for someone else, and sleep tight.

Here's that song. My mom would faint if she knew I was posting it, the only Pearl Jam song I still actively listen to and it's not even theirs:

...In which our heroine gets all educated and stuff.

A real, honest to goodness blog entry. No more strings of random thoughts for a while, and probably not as many post simply because I, like most of my friends are having that "oh shit" moment. I will be much, much busier this semester than previously. I just found out I'm president for BIG ART, which is still in the formation stages, but going well.  Classes galore!

Production II: A continuation of last semester's Production I, with the addition of color film, more advanced camera, post-sync (after shooting) sound, and digital editing. We got a chance to work with the Avid software today which is intimidating but doable. My professor has lots of real world experience (The Sopranos!) so he's stressing things like professionalism and resumes. And they're are SIX GIRLS in my class. Whoa.

Writing and Rhetoric II - Writing Women Safe: I was in a mood of utter awe after this class, which is a requirement, but I chose to do one where domestic violence is the focus. It was incredibly intense - my professor, who is super nice, is a survivor, and I'll be volunteering at a battered women and family shelter over the course of the semester. Heavy, heavy stuff, but something that will be beneficial.

Culture, Race and Media: My first paperless class. This fills all kind of requirements and explores topics like gender, race, status, etc. It was fine, not terribly interesting so far, but I think it'll get better. The instructor is very nice and seems to be accommodating.

College Math: Let's be honest. I'm not trying to double my money and this is the lowest math class I can take to meet the requirement. My professor is hilarious and knows that's why most of us are there as well. We'll see how my brain remembers...

Overall, I'm really pleased with my classes, though I'm going to be really busy, especially with Production II. On the domestic front, things are not going well with my roommate. She comes home at all hours and turns all the lights in the apartment on, and won't talk to me. She isn't very nice either, and OCD about cleaning the bathroom. It's kind of hard to sleep when someone is eating and on the phone in your bedroom, at 6:30 AM. I try to make things work,  but I really don't think this is going to last. I'm about to bring over the Homo Squad (a name of their choosing) to maybe...nudge her towards moving out. Not that I'd be trying to offend or anything, no, of course not.

I bought my Dan Deacon ticket for the day before Halloween. I think, unfortunately, I'm skipping Kevin Smith because that $50 could be put to good use for the Chicago Film Festival. Cross your fingers for my Pixies tickets attempt Saturday. Jennifer's Body with the director, Karyn Kusama, Monday night on campus. I wish it was Diablo Cody.

That will make a grand total of two movies I paid for all summer having seen Drag Me to Hell, Up, The Hangover, Moon, District 9, Funny People, The Hurt Locker, (500) Days of Summer, Paper Heart, Inglourious Basterds, Public Enemies, Away We Go, Taking Woodstock, and Extract. Ain't It Cool News has saved me a ton of money and allowed me to see Charlyne Yi, Michael Mann, Christian Bale, Mike Judge, and of course, Johnny Depp. My top five are most certainly Inglourious Basterds, Drag Me to Hell, Up, District 9, and The Hurt Locker. The worst is, despite the presence of Seth Rogen holding a french bulldog, Funny People. 

The delightful Cassandra Gallagher will be here in about twelve hours, which will be so very welcome. Three months is too long a time to be without your best friend. I have seen the boys twice this week, and while I miss them, I also don't miss the lifestyle I developed with them. Regina Spektor Saturday night, and the finale of True Blood Sunday. I have a lot to be happy about.

In honor of Beatles Rock Band, which I want in addition to a Playstation 3, however trite this may be, it's my favorite: