Sunday 26 April 2015

Section A Essay - The Bloody Chamber - Sex and Violence

This was the question from our mock in December. Really, it's an amazing, perfect question, but I made a total tit of it - I say some absolute bollocks in this essay. Additionally, I remember when we got feedback it was mentioned that some of the kids in our year went with the argument of  'sex as an alternative to/escape from violence', which is (in my opinion) a FAR better argument than the one I've used here - so definitely take this essay with a grain of salt.


‘Sex and violence are always linked in the stories in The Bloody Chamber’
To what extent do you agree with this view?
[36/40 A* - Timed Mock]
 
The Bloody Chamber, in true gothic fashion, is rife with elements of gore, torture, and violence – what, perhaps, is more shocking, is the glorification of these gruesome acts, and the constant link to sex and eroticism, to the extent where the two cannot be separated. Carter uses language to bring together this dichotomy of pleasure and pain, so that even instances that could arguably be seen as ‘sex sans violence’ (in ‘The Bloody Chamber’) or ‘violence sans sex’ (in ‘The Company of Wolves’) are inextricably caught in this bong of sadomasochistic violent arousal.

‘The Bloody Chamber’ is perhaps the most obvious tale to examine, when exploring the link between sex and violence. One of the most poignant and beautiful symbols of the whole story is the ruby choker – used by Carter to begin to embed the idea of violence and pain as sexual pleasure/beauty, even from very early on in the story. It is described as ‘his wedding gift, clasped around my throat…like an extraordinarily precious slit throat’ – and we are told of the gruesome history of the tradition; of beautifying and glorifying the thought of violence and death on the guillotine. The use of the verb ‘clasped’ to describe the ‘wedding gift’ marries the two ideas – their relationship, and his oppression of her (the term ‘clasped’ is usually used to describe the action of ‘clasping your hands’ around someone’s throat to choke them). Additionally, the simile ‘like and extraordinarily precious slit throat’ compares the shining, valuable rubies to a bloody wound – and implies that pain and cuts are things to be valued, treated as ‘precious’, and desired, almost in an erotic manner. The necklace serves as a recurring motif throughout the story, as he forces her to wear it for sex, and for when he plans to behead her – this makes it seem like a shackle or a spiked collar; a tool of BDSM to give power to the dom and oppress the sub. Later on, she comments that ‘it bit into my neck with tenderness now’. The verb ‘bit’ personifies the necklace as a violent animal, hurting her and tearing into her flesh, but by juxtaposing this with ‘tenderness’ it further creates the erotic link between sexual pleasure and violence; like a lover biting at her flesh during sex, violence out of love/passion, not anger.
 
Sex and violence are even more explicitly linked through Carter’s description of the lovers’ sex, and her use of intertextuality and art references. She describes the sex as ‘a dozen husbands [impaling] a dozen brides’ – a powerful image that compares the man’s penis to a sword or spear; a weapon. This metaphor is particularly poignant in that our first-person narrator speaks of her own sexual experience in a desensitised, external manner; ‘a dozen’ husbands/brides. This perhaps suggests not only a link between sex and violence in their relationship, but that this idea of sadomasochism and sexual transgression can be generalised on a wider level; perhaps all sex has elements of a man’s striking power over a woman, and her taking a violent blow? In terms of power-play, could even vanilla sex be seen as ‘violent’? Additionally, the Marquis has many examples of erotic art/books; ‘The Immolation of the wives of Sultan’…‘his prick curved upwards like the scimitar he held’ – yet again, this compares a man’s penis to a sword, and the term ‘immolation’ portrays women as a sacrifice and ties sexual pleasure to the sadistic thrill of flagellation. What is particularly interesting, however, is that Carter portrays our ‘heroine’ as aroused/turned on by this (she ‘shudders’ and feels herself ‘stirring’) – in fact, at least at the beginning of the novel, she is depicted as enjoying the role of masochist/victim. This deviation from the original fairytale (where there is, naturally, no talk of sexual pleasure from violence, due to the audience/format) highlights perhaps that one of Carter’s main intentions when retelling was perhaps to cement this link – to question morality and examine sexual transgression into S&M.
 
However, it could be argues that there are elements of ‘The Bloody Chamber’ which do not reinforce this bond of sex and violence. When the wife finds the Bloody Chamber, all sexual arousal seems to depart from violence, and she is left terrified and wishing ‘to escape [her fate]’. She calls the torture chamber an ‘obscene cell’ – and this use of the adjective ‘obscene’ indicates that she has reverted back to the commonly held view that violence/pain is not pleasurable/arousing. In fact she ‘bursts into a tumult of sobbing…a dreadful anguish’ – the violence here seems to not be linked at all to sex. That said, perhaps we only hold this view because our narrator is the terrified maiden herself’ while here the violent chamber may not be arousing for her, it is still definitely linked to his sexual arousal (in fact, it is likely a BDSM dungeon created solely for this purpose). Additionally, the wives are described as getting sexual pleasure from it; ‘the dead lips smiled’ – this metaphor reconciles the dichotomy of death/violence and pleasure/smiling and stands to maintain our link between sex and violence, even if it has dissipated for our protagonist.
 
Similarly, it could be argued that her love for the piano tuner and her life with him afterwards is evidence of sex without a link to violence. He is described all the way through as meek, ‘gentle’, and little more than ‘a boy’ – a complete opposite of her husband, and someone who would never inflict violence upon her (even his blind state makes him appear weak). In this sense, one could argue that her love for him/their marriage is not violent al all – but the fact is that it isn’t sexual at all either. We are given no erotic description of him, no lust, no indication of sex – unlike the description of her violent husband, and so in this sense it is clear that the lack of violence leads to a lack of sex (or sexual description) as the two are too heavily linked, and you cannot have one without the other.
 
It could be argued that ‘The Company of Wolves’ is a story that displays elements of violence without much sexual input. We are given a young female protagonist, who perhaps is too naïve for sex, and a beast focused solely animalistically on violently devouring his prey. We are given a fairly gruesome description of grandma’s death, with tension building as a lack of punctuation/direct dialogue heightens the pace of the description (‘Oh God what have you done with her?’), and wolves are described repeatedly as ‘carnivore incarnate’. This violent imagery seems to lack a sexual undertone, instead focusing on the ruthless, ferocious desire to kill and devour that all wolves possess, almost religiously (‘incarnate’) – they are the embodiment of violence. In fact, we do not typically view wolves as sexual objects, merely beasts, and so it could be argued that all we see is the animalistic violent desire. However, Carter utilises the gothic conventions of transgression, liminality, and the supernatural to input a sexual element in these wolves. They are naked men, and so potentially a target for arousal. Similarly, grandma’s death is described using almost-comically-incongruous sexual language; ‘his genitals, huge!’, ‘dark nipples’ like ‘fruit’ and the last thing she saw was ‘a naked man approaching her bed’. This clearly ties the act of murder with sexuality – explicitly making reference to ‘genitals’ and ‘nipples’, and more implicitly subtly linking the two by describing grandma’s death in a way typically used for sexual intercourse; ‘when he was done with her’ (he even changes the sheets). This ultimate link between sex and violence comes when our protagonist decides to have sex with the wolf – falling asleep ‘between the paws of the tender wolf’. In a similar fashion to the necklace description in ‘The Bloody Chamber’, the paws of the wolf (used only a short while ago to tear apart and devour grandma) are now described as ‘tender’, like the arms of a lover. It could be argued that this dissipates the link to violence, as the wolf, now a sexual image, is no longer violent but ‘tender’ – but this is far from true; the term ‘paws’ still reminds us that he is an animal, a beast, and in fact is appears to be his violent nature that drew our protagonist to desire him sexually. While the violence here may not be directed towards the girl, it is still present, and still irremovably wrapped up within the sexual/erotic image of the wolf.
 
Ultimately, it is clear that even elements of sex/violence that appear to be isolated from each other, are still tightly bound in Carter’s masochistic gothic world. We are invited to become thrilled/aroused by the violence inflicted upon characters (who themselves take pleasure/satisfaction in pain) and Carter makes us the ultimate sadists – viewing sex and violence as inextricably linked, as a key theme across all of her short stories.

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