Feminism, WOW! (part 2)

Part 1 Recap:

Women who wrestle face a specific problem, when it comes to representation: "the male gaze". Typically, "the male gaze" refers to the theory that mainstream media is presented through the perspective of a heterosexual male. In wrestling, the "gaze" also extends to other factors - such as nationality - but, for now, our focus is on gender identity.

Click here for part one.

Part 2: Suffragette City

Because the typical wrestling fan is believed to be male, and therefore the typical wrestler is believed to me male too, women have always been designated as a "special attraction" i.e. different from the norm. The male gaze exists in media for a business reason; those who are believed to be most likely to spend their money on a product will be targeted, by attempting to present to them things that are believed to conform to their beliefs and values. Similarities and differences are highlighted and exploited, and little is ever challenged.

Now, as a business model, you might argue that this is a logical approach; you attract the majority, in an attempt to earn the most. However, the typical gaze of a wrestling show is so very limited that monetary justification is not a strong counter position. Members of the audience might even turn away by the handling of intergender relations.

If you are a woman in wrestling you have one of four roles to fulfil:

1. The Diva - The object of sexual desire. Plays up to her looks
2. The Prude - The opposite of the Diva, in that she scorns the objectification of women.
3. The Subvert - The woman in the masculine role. Typically taken up by the more muscular women.
4. The Wrestler - Gender neutral. Just a wrestler.

Having been trained with women, wrestled a few, and even dated one or two, I've heard one phrase repeated: "I'm not a girl, I'm a wrestler!" This is usually shouted at timid male trainees who have a hard time overcoming the perceived social stigma of bodyslamming a woman. It's also a very telling phrase.

In the above four roles, only two can be said to be explicitly female - the Diva and the Prude. The Subvert plays the role of a man - she's considered interesting because she's subverting the gender roles and not acting as a woman should. And the Wrestler is not assigned a sexual identity - the importance is placed on the moves performed, which carry no gender bias. Only the Diva and the Prude are overtly feminine roles, and what do they have in common? Sex. Or, more specifically, objectification and sexual desire - one is for and one is against.

This is why some women do not want to be identified as such, within wrestling; because the woman in wrestling is only ever presented as a sexual object. Perhaps it's a greater commentary on how men are believed to perceive women - the Madonna and the harlot - but doesn't that make men sound like a Freudian nightmare?

I've always taken to the belief that the best wrestling shows - the true supershows - are the ones that have something for everyone. Normally, this is considered as choices in wrestling styles, but what of wrestling philosophies? I'm of no doubt that some men can only relate to women in sexual terms, but why does an entire show have to be targeted at them? Give them one or two matches, then show me something in a perspective I've never seen before. Maybe I won't even enjoy that perspective, but, you know what? I'm not the biggest fan of Lucha, either.

Feminism, WOW! (Part 1)

I don't think women's wrestling should exist.

(Interesting remark, let's see where this goes.)

Whenever you talk sexual politics you're in constant danger of appearing as either:
a.) a preachy, left wing, arsehole
or,
b.) a preachy, right wing, arsehole

Right now, I probably appear to be the latter of the two. But I'll do my best to win the feminists back over (hi mum!), as well as make a coherent argument.

Anyone reading this will be predisposed to think one way or another about gender roles. If you're hardline one way or another in your beliefs, then I don't think anything I can say will talk you around; if you tutted at that opening statement, and have only read this far out of spite, or some other misplaced ill will, then this post not for you; if you were roused to a cheer at what you believed to be open misogyny, then this post is also not for you. This post is for simple consideration.

Now that that's out of the way, let's return to the opening line and condense it. Focus on the term "women's wrestling" and really think what that means. Intrinsically, it's sexist. Why? Because of the need to include the modifier "women". When men wrestle it's called "wrestling", when women wrestle it's called "women's wrestling". So? Well, by needing to qualify that it is indeed women wrestling, and not feel that same need to do so when men wrestle, there's the implication that the wrestler is a role to be taken up by a man.

Consider the term "male nurse" - it's the same idea. The norm is that "she is a nurse, and he is a male nurse". The implication is that a nurse is job for a woman, and when a man takes up this position it is a break from the norm.

To allow the label of "women's wrestling" to continue, is to preserve the idea that women are, at best, a special attraction i.e. they're not normal wrestlers.

Some promoters boast of having an all women wrestling show, as if this is truly better than the usual cards which limit themselves to one "women's match". Both types of show just prolong the separation of male and female wrestlers, by the continued import of the idea that the gender divide is vast. Men and women are different - clearly. But the difference is only as significant as the difference between weight divisions. Lightweights are not considered to have any more or less claim to being a wrestler than the heavyweights (most of the time, I concede).

The problem is "the male gaze", which is the idea that entertainment is presented to the audience through the perspective of the heterosexual male. Straight men are the main demographic targeted in most forms of media, and wrestling is certainly no exception to this. The "gaze" of a wrestling show presents a vision of a world which attempts to pander to the wants and values of its audience - or the majority of it, at least. Difference is exploited and made apparent, for the sake of entertainment. And being a woman is different to the majority of a wrestling crowd.

What You See & What You Get

There's a classic example, given in philosophy, of the difference between what is perceived and what is true. It's a fairly easy to understand thought experiment, so feel free to follow along at home:

If I was to take a completely straight stick in my hand and look at it, then my sense of sight would inform me of the even nature of the stick's geometry. But once half submerged in water, the refraction of the light creates the appearance of a bent stick.

All this example is highlighting is that our senses can be fooled, and because of this, we should weary of placing all our faith in our perceptions.

There's an obsession of the body in wrestling. It's only natural, considering that the matches are a form of physical expression, but there's this almost unnatural obsession of the ideal body in wrestling. I'm not the first to point this out, but the bodybuilder physique is often considered the ideal aesthetic, and has been for some years. I understand why - the development of the muscles to a comic book proportion is an achievement, and, if nothing else, fascinating - but there's no variation in qualification of what is a good body for wrestling. Bigger is always better.

This isn't a disaffirmation of the bodybuilder as a wrestler, nor as an athlete. Big muscles are an accessory, like a fancy robe to walk to the ring in, or a mask - they're interesting to look at. But if you want to see the best bodies for wrestling, google some images of Cael Sanderson, Aleksandr Karelin, or Marcelo Garcia. All of these men compete in different weight classes, in different sports - freestyle wrestling, greco-roman wrestling, and submission grappling, respectively - yet none conform to the ideal body aesthetic.

The idea that bigger is better is preserved by society, and does not actually originate from the wrestling community. Take the masculine symbols of cinema: violence, phallic imagery, and muscles. The more violence, the bigger the guns, the bigger the muscles, the better. Which is why I'm not here to condemn or even ponder the continuing worship of muscle-bound wrestlers. I actually want to talk about the other form of physique driven obsession - self-obsession.

I think that if you took a cross section of wrestlers, and ran them through some psychiatric tests, then you'd discover alot of them would be suffering from body dysmorphia. Yes, there is a steroid problem in wrestling, but there are also anorexics, and bulemics, and people who simply believe there is a defect in their image and don't know what to do. They all just want to build muscle and loose the fat.

I've sat in changing rooms and seen people spend their entire night flexing in the mirror, doing some exercise, and then returning to the mirror for more flexing. People like this are the ones who become obsessed with getting bigger, put all manner of things I can't spell into their body, and will fervently deny chemical based accusations; others who "just can't get in shape", will go for a day or two, at a time, without a meal; there are people who throw up immediately after eating, because they want abs; and I know someone who came close to killing themselves with diuretics.

Wrestlers believe in the ideal body. It's a necessity to them, not an accessory.

I'm not in the habit of naming and shaming, so I won't begin here. But, I will share with you a story of a not so sympathetic encounter with an image obsessed wrestler:

I have blogged previously that I am a former chubby lad and this story takes place at a time when I was a couple stone heavier than I am now. So, imagine a short, ginger boy, with a little more to love than the average person [massive arse].

It's yet another show, on just another weekend, arriving with a few of the usual suspects of North West English wrestling, and we "do the rounds" i.e. shaking hands and saying hi to everyone who's already there.

A short while later, I've changed into my trunks and boots. I'm awaiting the start of the show, when a wrestler, who've I yet to say introduce myself to, walks up, takes a quick glace at me, and announces "Jesus, you need a tan!" And when I say announces, I mean he deliberately says it loud enough to catch everyone's attention - he even looks around to see if he got a good laugh out of anyone. I'll be honest, I was expecting a handshake and a "pleased to meet you". But I'm used to this type of person, so I respond, simply "why?" He looks a little taken aback, gives it some thought, and - again - announces "cause you're supposed to have one, aren't ya?"

That is the kind of reasoning that reverberates through wrestling. There is a right way and there is a wrong way for people to look. And the pressure to conform is not always implicit.

To Be Someone Must Be A Wonderful Thing

Mass recognition is not good in itself. To argue against celebrity, most people point to the string of reality stars that've appeared in the pop culture over the last few years. These television generated personalities appear to have no notable talent, add nothing positive to society, and are the entertainment equivalent of junk food. However, this is the most obvious target of anti-celebrity attacks. A simpler one - that I'm surprised more people don't mention - is the fact that criminals often become celebrities: Jack the Ripper is close to a modern myth, Charles Manson is a recognisable caricature, and Myra Hindley's image has been reproduced for exhibitions.

All that being said, I actually don't believe fame is bad in itself, either. Jack the Ripper wasn't a bad person because he became famous, it's because he had a habit of killing people. Celebrity is merely a state of affairs, and, the majority of the time, a simple product of good advertising. Celebrity is simple acknowledgement, and nothing more.

It's often believed that you're either going to be a star in wrestling ("superstar" is a copyrighted term), or you're going to be a purist. To put it another way: are you going to be concerned with being famous, or being a good wrestler? If you're going to have the most appeal, then you can't wrestle a style that is esoteric. The mainstream wants easily understood entertainment. This births the romantic notion of appealing to the "real" wrestling fans - the minority of people who'll applaud and become invested in even the most minor of details.

I'm not sorry to dispel this idea, but there is no "real" wrestling fan, just as there is no fake wrestling fan. The closest you'll ever reach to a true fan of the work are the people who've done the work - the people who've been on the mats and swapped sit-outs and switches. The "real" wrestling fan is the wrestler. (I'm fanatical about wrestling, that's why I do it.)

It's the uninitiated that buy the tickets, sit in the seats, and cheer and boo.

You are not automatically a bad wrestler by appealing to the audience. You are not automatically a good wrestler by being unappealing to the mainstream. Business and art are not mutually exclusive, they're independent. And people get bogged down in being different for the sake of being different, to see this sometimes.