[NOTE: I’m going to be trying to clear out old drafts of posts that I’ve never quite finished over the past year or so, but also share thoughts on the events in California this past weekend and our culture of misogyny. The following is a comment I made on a Facebook post linking to this story.]
There’s a scene in Leaving Las Vegas that’s burned in my brain, because it so perfectly encapsulates the very fine line between male desire, sexual entitlement, and violence in our culture. (Trigger and spoiler warnings.)
As you may know, Elisabeth Shue plays a Vegas prostitute who inexplicably falls in love with an extremely alcoholic Nic Cage. In one scene, a group of awkward, douchey frat boys approach her and ask her directly “how much she costs,” because they want to get their buddy laid. A lengthy scene ensues with her going with them to a motel room, where a bunch of loud, drunk, idiotic fratty types are encouraging their nervous virgin friend, but they’re so caught up in the pageantry that they practically forget Elisabeth Shue is there. She finally figures this is a waste of her time, says screw it, tosses their money back, and tries to leave. One of the guys blocks her from leaving, and the mood shifts instantaneously from one of a carefree party to one of rage. The nervous virgin loses his smile and begins beating her up without skipping a beat. They end up raping her repeatedly and dumping her by the side of the road.
What scared me most about that scene was not how senseless or stupid the violence seemed, but how a small part of me understood the guys’ perspective. The virgin guy was, we are led to believe, still a virgin despite being into his late teens or early twenties, and presumably had not had much luck with women. His friends were basically buying sex for him, and even then he got rejected. (On a side note, I support decriminalizing prostitution in part so that women [and men, and transgender people, and….] in that position have some protection if they decide to turn down work.) At that point, it really had nothing to do with sex, it was about being shamed in front of all of his friends–who were already implicitly shaming him by trying to get him laid when it wasn’t clear if he even wanted to.
Guys are taught by our culture that women are prizes to be won, and many, many guys who believe that they suffer unjustly through virginity (there are even online communities of “incels” – short for “involuntary celibates”) want a “girlfriend,” but haven’t thought it through past the part where they have a woman to fuck and to be seen with in public. We’re also taught by romantic comedies and such that persistence can be a good thing, that women don’t really know what they want, and that a show of assertiveness can win a girl over (because she really wants an “alpha.”) The guy in the story linked above might have bought into some or all of that, but the key issue, I think, is the tendency to view women and girls as prizes, or even just accessories, and to view the worst possible outcome for a man in such a scenario–usually just embarrassment or shame–as equivalent to whatever the worst possible outcome for a woman might be–e.g. rape or death. (See Margaret Atwood’s quote about how men are afraid women will laugh at them, while women are afraid men will kill them.)
