I don’t know what the feminist reaction to this post will be, but it won’t get out of my head, so I had to write it out. I’m interested to hear.
I’m not a big personal fan of Andrea Dworkin’s writing, but I appreciate her contributions to feminism and her work as a radical thinker. When she died in April, 2005, I read a couple dozen obituaries and blog posts that celebrated her life and learned more about who she was as a woman and activist. The Guardian released “Through the Pain Barrier,” reportedly her last piece of writing, completed just a month before her death. I was excited to hear that the topic was her experience with disability, and I couldn’t wait to see what the woman whose writing and speaking style had been described as “apocalyptic” might say about disability and civil rights.
I was disappointed.
Her account of her osteoarthritis, double-knee replacement and the years of troubled rehabilitation and pain afterward is deeply personal, as is typical of many Dworkin essays. She begins by blaming her osteoarthritis on a 1999 rape in a Paris hotel.
Doctors tell me that there is no medical truth to my notion that the rape caused this sickness or what happened after it. I believe I am right: it was the rape. They don’t know because they have never looked.
I do believe horrific experiences and emotional pain can contribute significantly to a person’s health, but I wince at the general notion that a common condition needs to be attributed to personal crises. Impairments happen. God doesn’t cause them and they exist without need for any form of moral explanation, whether it blames the person or makes them a victim of someone else’s moral flaws. Needless to say, I’m uncomfortable with the way Dworkin begins.
Dworkin’s treatment for her worsening knees follows what I understand to be a typical pattern of drugs, cortisone shots and finally knee replacement surgery. I don’t envy her or the senior citizens I know who’ve had this treatment or are in the midst of it. Despite various setbacks, the people I know personally who have been through this recovered their mobility after the surgeries, though they did experience the basics of what Dworkin describes rather dramatically here:
I still don’t know what he did to me but I came to the conclusion that the operation was barbaric, involving as it did the sawing out of the arthritis, which meant sawing through bones. It was like being kneecapped, twice, or having one’s knees and bones hammered and broken into bits. After the operation I was in a nightmare of narcotics and untouchable pain. There were morphine shots. I asked for them and got them often. Even morphine shots in the upper arm hurt.
I had a hallucination but it is still real as rain to me. I was in Virginia Woolf’s house and I was happy. But “they” wanted me to go down the stairs. I can’t, I begged, I can’t. My hospital bed was at the top of the stairs and I was afraid that they were going to push me down. I saw the steep decline of the steps. I couldn’t get over my visceral fear of falling or being pushed or being turned over from the bed down the flight of steps. I kept experiencing my bed as being on the edge of a precipice.
I agree that the operation seems “barbaric” and thinking about it gives me the willies, but I dislike how Dworkin makes these personal experiences of a common procedure out to be extraordinary. All serious surgeries cause pain, and heavy-duty painkillers do cause hallucinations. I violently beat up a sock puppet in one fentanyl-induced hallucination last November for reasons I can’t explain. After back surgery at age 16, I imagined my hospital bed was in a basement hallway and I’d been abandoned there. It took repeated reassurances from nurses and my hospital roommate to convince me I was safe and stop me from hollering for help. My grandmother saw spiders all over the walls once. These hallucinations are normal, though as individual as dreams, and are not proof of anyone’s suffering or victimization.
I relate well to Dworkin’s descriptions of physical and occupational rehabilitation, including the weird and often purposeless tasks required in OT:
Rehabilitation also includes so-called occupational therapy: throw a ball around in a circle; put round pegs in round holes; stand up, arms on a table, and read a page of a magazine; water a plant; play checkers or cards; and the pièce de résistance, cook and serve a simple meal.
And the sexism she notes of caregiver expectations upon returning home I saw, as well:
On discharge, social services are provided. My male partner is not expected to be a care-giver.
I have no experience of the “pain management centres” she describes, but they do sound tedious. I’m simply stunned by the potent mix of painkillers she says they kept her on.
Curly eventually puts me on Percocet, fentanyl patches and methadone. I am on these drugs for nearly two years. I become slightly indifferent to the awful pain. My speech slurs and my memory is impaired.
Fentanyl is dangerous for any length of time, I was told. The patches Dworkin used prompted an FDA advisory in 2005. I was weaned from fentanyl injections after a few weeks in ICU and I missed it terribly at first. You may recall fentanyl was the painkiller mixed with heroin or cocaine that was responsible for dozens of deaths this past spring.
Dworkin’s three-story New York residence disturbs me greatly. Not that she didn’t move somewhere more accessible — I know how difficult that can be. But did she really spend years crawling up and down three floors of steps between kitchen, bathroom and shower? I find that intolerable, and either unbelievable or lacking in creativity or… something. Adapt, Andrea. Adapt! Bathe in the kitchen or pee in the shower or something. Spare yourself some pain. If there are any triumphs of adaptation Dworkin does discover for herself, she never mentions them.
I remain ambivalent about the descriptions of her leg braces and the humor and pathos there. It doesn’t seem as though she accepts her body for what it is, and I had hoped for more from the woman who made no accommodations to expectations of feminine beauty or style. Depression rules her state of mind:
I can’t bear it or accept it. I reject the extent of my disability. I find myself in a silent rage that stretches over weeks. I am utterly exhausted by my incapacity. I am worn out from walking. I am sick of physical therapy.
She lacks perspective on what a “little humiliation” is too:
I keynote a conference on the Holocaust. The organiser picks me up. She is driving a truck. I try to climb up into it. She physically pushes me under my ass without permission, all the while talking to me in baby talk, put your tooshie there, keep your cute little fanny there. I turn to her and say, I am disabled, not stupid. A friend throws a party for me in Washington. I ask how many steps there are to the apartment. He doesn’t know. I assume he will get back to me. John and I go to the party. There are three flights of steps. I can’t get to the party being given for me. We could have given it in another venue, the friend says the next day. It cuts. I go to a bar and need to use the rest room. The men’s is filthy, the bartender says; the women’s is two flights up. I use the dirty one. I go to a new movie theatre that has elevators and disability bathrooms but the polished stone of the floor is so slick that my crutches cannot safely navigate it. I am walking with a friend who suddenly looks at my crutches and says, you don’t want to be this way the rest of your life, do you? Her repulsion is barely masked. I feel unutterably alone.
While some of these encounters are minor, the party in her honor that she could not even attend seems a big frustration and failure of her friends to me. Three flights of steps overlooked when the guest of honor used leg braces and crutches — it seems unconscionable.
The last several paragraphs hold promise as she turns to public access and the ADA, though most of my disappointment lies here. She acknowledges that:
Only a determined policy of public access can help to mitigate the loneliness. One needs to be able to enter buildings; have a cup of coffee; go to a restaurant, the theatre, cinema or a concert; attend school; go to lectures or readings; use public transport, bathrooms, hotel showers; go to museums and sporting events and political rallies. One needs equal opportunity in employment. One needs to be integrated into the world, not separated from it; yet one has special needs, ones that able-bodied people rarely consider. The low consciousness of the able-bodied increases alienation.
She praises the accessibility the law has provided for her in public places, and gives credit for this to juries awarding high punitive damages to plaintiffs, which is not untrue but significantly misrepresents the successes and history of the ADA in the courts. There is no indication at all that more needs to be done or that the law is perpetually under fire in the media and from Republicans in Congress.
So that wraps up my ungenerous critique. Admittedly, I’m generally uncomfortable with Dworkin’s emotive writing style. And I’m uncomfortable with any telling of the crip experience that has even a whiff of the “why me?” stereotype of disability as drama. I’ve seen too many disease-of-the-week, inspired-by-a-true-story, whine-until-some-nondisabled-person-snaps-you-out-of-it sagas on TV and film to be comfortable with any reinforcement of that tale.
And the last time anyone really famous was given big media attention for their disability, it was Chris Reeve on Barbara Walters talking about how he had wished himself dead and how his purpose in life was now to find a cure for paralysis. When he died a decade after his paralyzing injury it was widely reported that the cause was sepsis from bedsores and that such problems were an understandable killer of any quad. In truth, Reeve died from a violent reaction to a medication, and while he had been dogged by infections he was sitting in his wheelchair at a hockey game earlier on the day of his death, something no person with a dangerous sore on his butt would ever do.
It took Reeve the better part of a decade as a disabled person to start speaking about the basic civil rights we all deserve, though he spoke publically about other issues all the time. My expectation that Dworkin would stir the pot for disability rights was unrealistic and bound to disappoint. Disability isn’t an identity anyone embraces overnight, and some obviously impaired people never accept it.
And beyond that, becoming politicized about the social treatment of disabled people also doesn’t come easily. For most, there’s no discussion around the dinner table about the day’s humiliations with others who’ve experienced the same. The disability rights movement was largely started in the U.S. by a generation of people who caught the polio virus and were institutionalized together and perceived the injustice of their collective treatment because of this. Most crips don’t experience this kind of community unless they seek it out. Not Reeve, not Dworkin, not me.
Dworkin had nothing remotely “apocalyptic” to say about disability. If she’d lived another 20 years that may or may not have changed. Her last piece of writing is not at all political despite its mention of the ADA — because her mention of the ADA was completely uncritical. It’s just a personal piece, quintessentially Dworkin, really. And the sad truth is that any newly disabled person (or newly accepting of the identity) is not ever speaking politically about disability rights unless they say they are, celebrity or not.
Crossposted at The Gimp Parade
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One more reason for me to dislike Dworkin. I’ve tried and tried to read her with an open mind, and I just can’t. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for someone who was previously nondisabled to accept disability. I’ve known about my impairment my whole life, and I really only recently started thinking about myself as disabled in a social activist sense in the past 4 years or so (I’m 28, so that’s 24 years of denial, personal pity parties and the like). So I can only imagine what a person who is “thrown” into an impairment would do… BUT that is even more reason for disability activism. IF people with disabilities are seen and acceppted as a NORMAL variance of the human form and truly an integrated part of society (rather than unfortunate individuals who require special accommodations), then I would think that transition would be much easier for people as they inevitibly lose some degree of “normal” physical or mental function with age, accident or illness. Once again, disability activism benefits everyone, not just the disabled :)
On a VERY personal note – I find people like Dworkin annoying. Knee surgery and recovery is no picnic I grant you, but as you said, adapt to your surroundings to make things more livable, and quit whinning. I know that’s awful of me, but I have very little tolerance and patience for people who CONSISTENTLY do nothing but have pity parties for themselves (everyone has to do it once in a while, but EVENTUALLY you gotta DO something for yourself rather than bitch about it). And people think I’m more empathetic because of my impairment experiences – HA, if only they knew how INTOLERABLE I find some people!
Blue, thanks for this thoughtful post. I totally didn’t know that about Reeve. It seems really weird to me that people would promulgate deliberate lies about how he died; the reasons given in the article you link to seem vaguely possible but it still strikes me as a bizarre thing to do.
My first reaction to this post is, who cares?
My second is, as a person without disabilities, I am curious to know what it is like to be disabled, because it helps me know what to do and say and how to be helpful and considerate. Common courtesy is not easy without curiosity. That is why I appreciate Andrea’s openness to what it’s like, whether or not others think it’s whining. I for one want to know. If you wish to be stoic, fine. But I hope that won’t discourage others from being open.
I have seen instances of people compalining about things that I think are minor, like people I know who are very lucky and privileged and don’t see it and whine because they’re not getting more.
Or situations where someone complains trivially about someone else’s complaint. Like blue, I can’t stand blue’s whining. Why can’t you buck up and take it, blue?
I had no idea who Andrea Dworkin was before reading your post and the referred article in the Guardian which led me to check out related links, including her personal site (so obviously, I am sacrilegiously not very informed about feminism and all that). But I have to say that I found your review of her article, and moreover of her experience with disability, rather harsh and judgemental.
I think that disability is very personal and that for many persons with disabilities, especially those who were not born into it or who have not lived with it for a significant amount of time, disability often sucks. And necessarily, how we live with it is largely based on perceptions, our own to great degree but unavoidably based on others’ perceptions on what disability is and is not. I do not think that we can fault this person for writing about it in a personal way. We all have and unfortunately, the reality is that we do not always have great things to say about it.
I have been rather militant about disability issues for the last 20 years and if there is one thing that was made abundantly clear in all of that is that most persons with disabilities are not political. There are many reasons for this but among other things, they are often not in a situation where they have the opportunity to be and unfortunately, it is not just as simple as making that choice as choice and self determination is not something that society gives over easily to persons with disabilities (the medical establishment is an eloquent example of that).
While I understand that there is unfortunately more negative material out there on disability than positive, I honestly did not sense any overwhelming “why me” whining in that article. Just a woman who’s life suddenly changed for the worst (greatly due to the pain that came with it and pain is something that can deeply affect one’s perceptions) and who was very angry and disappointed at the unfairness and stupidity that ensued. I may not agree with everything she wrote and the choices she made (or did not make) but I respect that this was how she felt about it.
All that being said, I want to say that I enjoy your posts and appreciate the intelligence and cultural identity of disability you express in your writing.
There are stages one goes through after disability, whether caused apocalyptically or by illness. You’re now at a different stage than Dworking was when she wrote that. Congratulations.
Blue: you sound vaugely disappointed that Dworkin couldn’t adequately compete in the ring of disability. You seem to be suggesting that her mind and politics are more crippled than her body. Disability is disability regardless of its comparison to those “worse off” or those who have lived their entire lives as disabled. Adaptation, especially to chronic pain, seems a harsh way to judge someone, especially if you use terms like “creative” to merit value to personal choices.
I think the thing that Blue is disappointed about is that Dworkin was unable to translate her radical stance of feminism into disability. She experienced sexism in a personal way (don’t we all), but she was able to articulate and politicize it (even if I don’t agree with exactly what and how she did that, she still did it). On the other hand, she experienced her disability in ONLY a personal, poor me sort of way and was unable to shift her radical feminist perspective to her personal experiences of disability which are just as social in nature as gender is. I’m not trying to put words in Blue’s mouth (so feel free to correct me if I am wrong), but that was what I gathered, and ultimately also the conclusion I drew from reading everything. It is not uncommon that such things happen, it’s just unfortunate, because the more people politicize disability and translate their activist work in other areas (be it racism, classism, etc) into their experiences of disability, then the movement would be stronger and more visible. There’s nothing at all wrong with writing, thinking about and acknowledging the personal aspects of disability and impairment, it’s just that its SO overdone… it would be nice if more people were able to switch it up a notch.
I get the feeling Q Grrl that if Blue wrote about her disappointment in a woman who was an activist in some leftist kind of way (so she has the tools or knowledge of activism at her disposal) but then wrote a personal essay detailing her experience with sexual harrassment on the job in a very personal and non political way, you’d probably be inclined to agree with Blue’s critique (I don’t want to put words in your mouth, I’m just trying to get you to put yourself in her shoes so to speak, it is not in anyway meant to offend).
The feminist line of the personal is the political is something that translates EXTREMELY well into disability, but unfortunately its even harder (I have found) to convince the general public that this is true than it is for feminists. For centuries, disability and impairment have been viewed as tragic personal misfortunes. The work TO politicize these areas and have people with disabilities recognized AS a social group that experiences systemic and systematic discrimination because of their membership in this group is a highly difficult struggle. In many ways, the feminist movement is still fighting this too only because people use the line, “we’ve come so far, we’re done” kinda thing, BUT it is much easier to put gender discrimination in a politicized arena and women ARE generally recognized (by social science etc) as a legitimate social group that suffers systemic discrimination. The same can not be said for disability. There is still a VAST amount of work to be done in this area.
I think Blue’s disappointment (and mine too) is that when you have someone who IS a radical in other ways experience impairment and disability and then NOT translate their tools into another movement is frustrating. I think I am most disappointed when someone neglects or rejects a disabled identity… (Blue that would make for a facinating post – I’d love your take on identity development and its relationship to disability activism, particularly cross activism – my thesis was partly about this!) It is easier to understand why this happens when Jane Smith, who has never been involved in any kind of social activism suddenly develops an impairment (still disappointing, but easier to grasp anyway given the dominance of the “disability as individual misfortune” thing), but if Jane has been a prominant figure in groundbreaking areas of a radical movement it is disappointing that she is unable to move past the “personal” and not see the political.
And I think you may have attributed some of my comments to Blue – It may be unfair of me to feel the way I feel about Dworkin’s pity party, but it’s how the individual in me feels (and for the record, I HAVE chronic pain), it’s perhaps not appropriate for this discussion – Amp, can you delete the 2nd paragraph to my first response in this thread? It’s probably not relevant to the discussion and I’d rather not derail the thread.
Q-Grrl: I think it’s fair to say my critique of Dworkin says as much about me as it does about Dworkin, but I’m not trying to compare and rate impairments in any way. Kate has a pretty good (though long) summary of part of my purpose with this post. I’m also exploring the learning curve involved in acquiring an impairment and becoming politicized about the social experience of that.
Dworkin was an impressive radical thinker. But there’s nothing radical about her story of disability. (It is compelling, however.) That I expected her writing on disability would be radical is, perhaps, all on me. Or not. This is why I couldn’t get the topic out of my head.
AGAIN: There are stages one goes through after incurring a disability. Dworkin was not at the same stage as Blue is today. One cannot begin to be anything but pain, a veritable personification of pain, until that is alleviated. Then one begins to look around. Unfortunately Dworkin died before she got there. We can assume, with her perspicacity and resolve toward injustice, she would have arrived there. Those of us who did should not use our survival to excoriate her for not having reached our level of enlightment.
For those feminists that answered this post with some variation of, ‘she just hasn’t progressed to the point of activism yet and that’s just something we have to accept and not worry about’ How do you feel when you meet an 18 year old who rejects the feminist label even though she believes in equal rights, has probably experienced sexism, is angry about it, but is unable to connect that to a systemic issue of patriarchy? Does it frustrate or disappoint you?
Now imagine a 50 year old who has worked dilligently against the grain in a radical movement and still is unable to view sexism from anything other than a political perspective. Wouldn’t that frustrate you?
Kate L.: my struggles against sexism pale compared to my chronic pain. I can ignore the pain (deal with it?) because I have outlets like radical feminism to occupy my mind and passion. If I had to combine my pain and my radical politics my ego would not survive. Having had my ego already shattered when I came out of the closet, I can attest that I would rather not politicize my pain and that I would rather nuture it/deal with it as the very intimate part of my life that it is.
And I can also see how that is or would be dissapointing to those that *can* do both.
I want to add, Kate, that we already *do* acknowledge how personal pain experienced through sexism can hold a woman back from being radicalized against sexism — it’s called not blaming the victim.
“For those feminists that answered this post with some variation of, ’she just hasn’t progressed to the point of activism yet and that’s just something we have to accept and not worry about’ How do you feel when you meet an 18 year old who rejects the feminist label even though she believes in equal rights, has probably experienced sexism, is angry about it, but is unable to connect that to a systemic issue of patriarchy? Does it frustrate or disappoint you?”
No. She’s 18. It’s the norm. She’ll get there.
Outside the norm, approaching prodigy, is someone like Alyx (Mad Sheila Musing). The body of her brilliant blog posts were written when she was 19 and 20.
Dworkin was dying. Did you miss that? When she wrote the article she was not just disabled, she was in unremitting pain and dying. However, while she was dying, in great pain and under the influence of prescription narcotics, she wrote something from that first, personal perspective which we must all go through or we will never take the second step. It is very human when in great pain to be entirely focussed on that pain. In fact not only human; it is how animals also behave when in great pain. It is the first step of physiological surival, leading to the next step, a psychological survival. Another point that seems to have been missed is the woman was in her late 50s when disabled and going through this so eloquently described by Blue. One does not recover well at that age. A small infection, an exhaustion dismissed at 35 can take days if not weeks from which to recover.
Regarding Reeve: he most surely did die of his bed sores no matter what his wife was reported to have said. (We don’t now exactly what she said, how the question was posed, or what *else* was part of her response). If he had not had bed sores untreatable by common antibiotics he would not have been given a very dangerous member of a new class of antibiotic and had a reaction that many others have had, but perhaps survived because they were not so critically compromised. Today, that class of antibiotic is known to have many very serious side effects, not the least of which is cardiac arrest and tendon rupture. What was on Reeve’s death certificate I do not know. It is seldom what actually caused the death for those with disabilities. Insurance companies don’t like that.
I completely understood Blue’s frustration with Dworkin’s account, and am a bit bemused by the responses to the effect of “Blue, you’re so unsympathetic!” Blue is honest about her emotional reaction to Dworkin’s emotional account; how is this heartless? And in Dworkin’s case, as Kate L said above, I would have expected someone so adept at merging the personal with the political to extend those abilities into a new arena. It’s hardly “excoriating” to recognize that Dworkin did not do this.
To be very, very clear, the last thing I would say about Blue is that she’s heartless.
I’m still shocked that people would have a party for her three flights up! I once had a party for my collegues at work, one of whom is in a wheelchair from MS. It took less than an hour for a few of us to build a make-shift ramp to my front door (just a few stairs, but still). It’s a sad, sorry world when we’re unwilling to accomodate different abilities of our friends.
It’s disappointing when people who seem so strong on one front don’t hold up on others. But at the same time, we’re all pretty fallable. I understand Blue’s frustration, but also understand that some people never learn to adjust well to a major change in their lives.
“I completely understood Blue’s frustration with Dworkin’s account, and am a bit bemused by the responses to the effect of “Blue, you’re so unsympathetic!” ”
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Can you cite me, or anyone, saying that please?
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Blue is honest about her emotional reaction to Dworkin’s emotional account;
how is this heartless? And in Dworkin’s case, as Kate L said above, I would have expected someone so adept at merging the personal with the political to extend those abilities into a new arena. It’s hardly “excoriating” to recognize that Dworkin did not do this.”
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Honesty. Perhaps we can spread that around a bit more. How many years are you post disabling event? Let’s make sure we are talking about people at the same stage of physical and psychological recovery.
Were you able to write a journal quality report about your experience with your disability within a short period of time after it happened? (Blue has admitted she was raving and halluncinating. )
Are you able, even today, to be generous and understand your fellow disabled person, or do you instead fall into a personal “better than thou” attitude. I did it so therefore you should? Except, we don’t have the benefit of knowing your cognitive ability at the same stage, do we?
I am surprised at people who *think* they have achieved something regarding their disability, who come here and do the equivalent of dropping their pants in public. You have not. You are blaming an individual. The name of the individual is in the post and in your responses. Your sense of superiority embarrassing to perceive, under the circumstances.
Dworkin would never have pointed a finger at you and said that if you weren’t walking/seeing/hearing by now, it’s your shortcoming. She would have known that you and she are part of the class of the disabled, and your recovery and acceptance by society are part of a class effect. The personal is political. Dworkin spoke from that place where you have been, but forgotten you have. Because I know that no disability is static, I know you will get a reminder, sooner or later. I hope you bear it with the strength you show here.
Finally, Dworkin was not disabled. She was dying.
There is something very distasteful about your lack of awareness of disability. It’s for you to learn. I’m confident you will.
“Finally, Dworkin was not {only} disabled. She was dying.”
Pony: I wasn’t ignoring your first comment. :) It didn’t show up for me until after my first response. About stages of “enlightenment” I did say this:
My expectation that Dworkin would stir the pot for disability rights was unrealistic and bound to disappoint. Disability isn’t an identity anyone embraces overnight, and some obviously impaired people never accept it.
Regarding Reeve: If he had not had sensitivities to medications most other people are commonly able to take he would not been taking more worrisome drugs. And more to the point I want to make again: People with serious bedsores are insane if they wander out to hockey games while sitting on them. Or they’ve gotten extremely poor medical advice. People with bedsores that are causing blood infection should be in an ICU. Bedsores are not a normal, acceptable cause of death for quadriplegics. Bedsores are a sign of problematic health care.
Pony: What was Dworkin dying of? I haven’t heard what was determined as a cause of death let alone that she had a fatal condition.
“Disability isn’t an identity anyone embraces overnight, and some obviously impaired people never accept it.”
Again, you are judging someone based on what you think you’ve achieved (erroneously think, in my opinion) who didn’t have the benefit of survival as you have. I know for a fact there was a period after your disabling event when you had not yet recovered that event well enough to go on to rehabilitation where you did not accept it.
“Some imparied people”. What arrogance. I think I’m going to hork.
What is most disturbing here is the lack of discussion of the issue of disability, and the willingness to kick another member of the disabled class to which you belong; the lack of understanding that recovery and rehabilitationare two separate health situations. Dworkin, unlike you, did not get past recovery to move on to rehabilitation before dying.
Now if you want to discuss disability, I’ll consider returning.
If however your aim is slam someone, as indicated by your putting a person’s name in the title of your blog post and focussing your post on the person not the issue, then I’m not staying for the party. There are too many flights of stairs for me to navigate to get to where I’d need to be to deal with that kind of attitude.
Can you cite me, or anyone, saying that [Blue is unsympathetic] please?
Pony, that was what I understood from the following:
Zara: “harsh and judgemental”
Q Grrrl: “a harsh way to judge someone”
Pony: “You’re now at a different stage than Dworking was when she wrote that. Congratulations.”
Q Grrrl has since clarified that she doesn’t feel Blue is unsympathetic, so clearly I misread her comment. Perhaps I misinterpreted the other two as well.
The rest of my comment was intended to be in support of Blue’s response and her right to make such a critical response, as well as a statement of my essential agreement with her analysis. It was not intended to be a personal attack on you, or on Dworkin.
Euh, I would appreciate people not putting words in my mouth. I did not say Blue was harsh and judgemental and hardly could as I do not know her personally. I said her review was harsh and judgemental. Now one could say the line is fine but I think there is a big difference.
I don’t know for certain whether Pony is disabled or not, but I don’t believe I’ve ever read anything to indicate that she is, so for now I’ll assume she is not.
Assuming she’s not, I’m somewhat uncomfortable with the tone of her comments, in that they seem to be lecturing Blue on how she ‘ought’ to discuss issues of disability, and I don’t think that that’s the role of any able-bodied person, any more than it would be my role (as a man) to lecture Pony, Dworkin, or anyone else on how they ought to discuss feminism.
Also, honestly, I read the comments as kind of mean.
I apologize for not quoting more of your comment, and for (again) misreading.
Perhaps I would have been better off simply saying “Ditto Kate L,” and leaving it at that.
“On a VERY personal note – I find people like Dworkin annoying. Knee surgery and recovery is no picnic I grant you, but as you said, adapt to your surroundings to make things more livable, and quit whinning.”
Within the larger issue of saying Dworkin should have politicized her disability lies the error of applying one’s own experience to others. Maybe you moved to a political position quickly. Great! You didn’t experience what Dworkin experienced, so you can’t’ judge her by your standards.
Personal physiology and life experiences matter. Maybe Dworkin experienced more pain than others with her condition. Maybe she didn’t. She did experience a lifetime of hostility and abuse everywhere she went. She kept fighting for women in the face of death threats. I couldn’t blame her *if* she decided to focus on caring for herself when she became disabled rather than setting herself up as a punching bag for even more pain.
Criticizing her for not being political about disability as she suffered and died is just wrong. Very few people fight for others the way Andrea Dworkin did.
Pony: I don’t have any idea what is controversial or judgmental about this particular statement of mine: Disability isn’t an identity anyone embraces overnight, and some obviously impaired people never accept it.
Is it the word “impaired” that bothers you? I mentioned something about this in another post here, but “impairment” is a more precise way to talk about actually bodily conditions as opposed to “disability,” which addresses the social inequalities and experiences. I haven’t always, but while I’ve been posting at Alas I’ve been trying to be precise about which I’m talking about. I didn’t make the distinction up myself, but I find it a useful one. Both Dworkin and I would be “mobility-impaired,” if we tried to discuss precise physical difficulties.
What is most disturbing here is the lack of discussion of the issue of disability
I’m excruciatingly aware that the subtext is all disability. My take on it, what I see as Dworkin’s take on it, my experience of other disabled people’s take on it, the history of it, media perception of it.
About this post’s title. What I’ve written is about Andrea Dworkin and disability. Maybe the “and” is important, but I chose to give her credit for her writing right up front. And my initial excitement to read “Through the pain barrier” was based on the notice from various online places that her last work (soon to be available! was the tease) “was on disability.” Also, a widely linked Guardian article from just a few days after her death, “She never hated men”” further teased with this about Dworkin and disability: “But she was coming to terms with her disability; she was being taken seriously again by newspapers, at least in this country.”
Additionally, since Dworkin had written about travesties like Chinese foot binding as a disabling practice done in the name of patriarchal ideals of feminine beauty, I knew she had some theoretical understanding that disability is related to social injustice. I don’t expect that satisfies your anger much, but I didn’t just make up the connections between disability, Andrea Dworkin, and my expectations of what this last piece might reveal.
Lastly, I don’t actually believe her disappointing me is that big of a deal, for a variety of reasons. But she did.
What if Reeve’s bed sores were not on his hiney? Surprise. Bed sores (a misnomer if ever there was one) could have been anywhere, even on a part of his body that did not touch a bed. They could have been caused by any part of the equipment that made his life possible.
What to do, what to do? On this blog, damned if they do (Reeve) and damned if they don’t (Dworkin).
Consider this: Reeve’s advocacy had become his raison d’etre. He was driven to do it. He *needed* to do it. To stop was to die. Sometimes, sheer bloodyminded effort is all that keeps a disabled person alive, until a fateful moment when there’s that straw on the camel’s back.
He did it for himself, for the people who counted on him to save them; maybe you benefit from something Reeve’s bloody-mindedness achieved in the midst of bed sores pain and fever: a better ventilator? They expected him to get out that day, not to disappoint the people. The people give more money when the star shows up. Reeve’s showed up. He knew there was no understudy.
So let’s not hammer on how much better you would have done it than Reeve or Dworkin. You would have done the same thing; showed up, waved, smiled at the kid in the wheelchair. Proffered hope. Wouldn’t we all?
I think you are being unrealistic and judging another disabled person from the perspective of your ABILITY. I find it so astonishing that you discount, dismiss, refuse to acknowledge the seriousness and distinguishing (from your situation) age, multiple diseases, unhealed injuries and their cumulative effect on disease.
The assumption that an aging disabled women suffering from acute mulitple systemic disease and blood clots should rally from her death bed and put forth an oeuvre about you is so overwhelmingly ridiculous. I can’t imagine…
On Dworkin’s style: I would argue that her highly personal style is not intended to make her seem like she suffers more than anyone or even be a comparison. In fact, the opposite. I suspect that her honesty is supposed to be freeing, to be permission to the oppressed to throw off the shackles of polite silence used to oppress. Whether it works is another story.
Pony: You’re right about the term “bedsores.” Pressure sores or pressure ulcers or decubitus ulcers are all probably better terms.
Reeve’s ulcer was on his tailbone. I followed numerous discussions in disability forums after his death where many quad- and paraplegics expressed deep confusion and frustration with what the media wrote and the possibilities if what they said was true. I recall more than one person noting, “If a rich, famous quad with medical people counting on Reeve and his health for their medical funding and research can die of pressure sores, what hope is there for the rest of us?”
I wouldn’t go this far, but a case could actually be made that Reeve didn’t do disabled people any favors by dying through neglecting his health.
Your noting that advocacy was Reeve’s reason to live is exactly why he is such a very controversial person among disabled people, partocularly activists. He has been for a decade precisely because of the perception that without his quest for a cure he and the rest of us are lost.
I personally wouldn’t have shown up to wave and smile if medical experts advised against it. (We’re not talking about an inevitable death from these ulcers and the showing going on anyway, after all.) Reeve may or may not have had that advice because he was seen as such an important figure and fundraiser.
And please. I’m not claiming anywhere that I’ve done it better than anyone else. I left plenty of room for lots of ambiguity that I even know what I’m talking about. Disability and impairment are complicated for us all. Frankly, I thought the unstated moral of my post was that judging others politically (specifically, my judging Dworkin) is fraught with complication and that this is lamentable for us all.
I am still interested in anyone’s knowledge that she was on her deathbed when she wrote this piece. She ends it with a bit of optimism, and some obits indicate there was cause for that, as well.
Please do not continue to look for reasons why a 59 year old woman, suffering unremittingly painful bone disease, ill with other untreated multiple systemic diseases, bed-ridden, not recovering from two unsuccessful surgeries, fighting infection, blood clots (caused by surgery and being non-ambulatory at that age) and septicemia, was so thoughtless as to not be writing a thesis about disability advocacy. It makes this effort, here, look ridiculous.
Blue, what I gather you expected was that Dworkin would have written about disability rather than impairment. I think, however, that it is a good thing she wrote about her experience of impairment, because in doing so, she also beautifully illustrated why the search for a “cure” is so often counterproductive. I couldn’t help but be struck by how much of her trouble begins with the orthopedic surgeon, who manages to do a lot of things to her but not to prevent what had already begun: stiff joints that made bending difficult and painful. How much of her pain could have been avoided if she had been counseled initially to use a wheelchair, braces, crutches and so forth rather than attempt to be “normal” through surgery ? Your observation that her staying in her house, using it as she did, was counter to her best interest is spot on. But instead of recommending to her that she move or put in a stair lift, Dworkin’s health professionals fixated on adapting her to her house rather than the other way around. I think she does a good job describing how ultimately pointless physical therapy is in treating her progressive joint deterioration.
I never cared for Dworkin before, but I do like this particular essay overall (maybe my not liking her generally contributes to my positive assessment–this is better than I expected). It is a particularly well-written vent, an expression of frustration and confusion. The point of a vent is to scream into the night, not to be logical or lead the way forward. The logic and leading comes in the responses to a vent, if it comes at all. Surely there are those who read the essay and, seeing their own stories in what Dworkin experienced, are now better able to reject the medicalization of their lives and society’s judgment that any risk is worth taking to become “normal.”
She was bed-ridden and had septicemia?
I am still puzzled by one thing. If these people were giving a party for her, and she had a problem with getting up the stairs, why didn’t someone just help her, or even carry her? I can certainly carry a person weighting as much as I do up three flights of stairs, and so can most men.
I wonder whether she felt it was undignified… I have met disabled people who refused this kind of help. It always made me think of a girl (nondisabled) whom a friend and I had to carry/pull/push out of a cave. She was even not hurt, just exhausted, and I do not think she was embarassed. Why would it be different for a disabled person who needs to be helped?
I am still puzzled by one thing. If these people were giving a party for her, and she had a problem with getting up the stairs, why didn’t someone just help her, or even carry her? I can certainly carry a person weighting as much as I do up three flights of stairs, and so can most men.
If I suffered from severe chronic pain, I might blanch at the prospect of being carried up three flights of stairs by people too inconsiderate of disability to hold my party on the ground floor. She might also have been unwilling to make an issue of it, and she might not have wanted to hang out with these people.
Okay, this might make me sound like I’m radically changing my stance on what I said yesterday…
Pony, you’re being a little overreactive and hyperbolic. Your painting Dworkin as a complete victim in order to critique Blue for her comments. **Obviously** Dworkin was able to write what she did, coherently, with passion, and for an audience. Blue is trying to to draw out the distinctions that Dworkin’s typical radicalism is not present in her addressing of impairment and disability. Blue expected it to be there, and I dare to say that Blue needed it to be there. Don’t we all? on some level?
I overreacted to Blue’s criticism because 1) it didn’t sound like a typical Blue type of comment and 2) my own personal issues with chronic pain and my own issue with not being able to politicize that.
I think the deeper issue is *how* people politicize and radicalize – not *what*. Can someone be a genius in one area and not have the capacity to draw parallels in others? If this happens, does this distract from their political impact (think Martin Luther King and his sexist womanizing; or Ghandi and his use of women to prove *his* virtue)? It also points out the nature of disability/impairment and how those issue become politicized and how they gain attention and action. If someone is already large in the public sphere, why can’t others ask of them to politicize their disability? Or even, is disability truly a case of “the personal is political” or is it something other?
I think waving Dworkin’s impending death around is a very able-bodied/privileged action. Many folks, young, old, and in-between know quite clearly that their disability has a specific and impending end-date. The fear of death and the use of that fear to shame others is truly a privileged position.
Piny’s right: there is the dignity factor, and the frustration of facing such inexcusably bad planning. But the basic issue is that it can be dangerous for all involved, especially if the well-meaning volunteers have no experience lifting and bearing an adult body with significant joint/muscle/bone pain. Stairs are especially scary–if the carriers slip, trip, or stumble, the person being carried can be badly injured or worse in the fall. (In emergencies it’s often a risk worth taking, but not so much otherwise.)
If Blue expected it to be there, then Blue is displaying her ignorance, and judging another disabled person from the perspective of her own ability. She is also judging and adult woman who had to look after her own management of her illness (not a 16 year old for whom it will be done by parents etal), judging a person who is incapacitated, ill and not rehabilitated to any degree, judging a person who has not recovered from disastrous and unsuccessful surgeries, and… just plain judging.
Fine to look at it from Blue’s perspective now years after the fact of when she was in that same state of impairment, incapacityl; unhealed not treated to the degree of completion her disability would be, and not with years of coping and management behind her.
The arrogance of the technically enabled disabled is appalling. As long as you’re in a wheelchair and on sanctioned disability rights/pensions/insurance, you’re valid. As long as the disabled fits the MALE model of disability (pushing wheels) they are valid. So sad to see a disabled so-called advocate perpetuating this trash.
The disabilities women suffer and experience are different than those men suffer (by majority). And they are swept under the rug, dismissed, and not validated by “formal” disability status.
You are comparing a disabled ill incapacitated older woman to a young woman. You are not comparing how you were immediately post disabling event, to how she was, post disabling event.
From disabling event to death: less than 5 years, and the time spent trying to find solution, seeing physicians and surgeons, having two disastrous surgeries which not only failed to solve the original problem but created more disease.
This post started off slamming Dworkin, who did not live long enough to write advocacy.
I think there is a paucity of awareness and knowledge about disability here, and it’s not from the able.
I think it is, in the sense that it creates issues that we’re encouraged to see as personal, as located in our bodies, and need to learn to see as political, as rooted in the society and its choices and values. To use the old school language, when one developes an impairment, one requires some consciousness raising to locate many of one’s problems as political problems, not merely personal ones. It takes some work to go from “this impairment has made my life harder” to “many of the ways in which my life is harder are a result of society’s unwillingness to accomodate my impairment” to “I need to engage in organized social action to convince society to accomodate my impairment better.”
(And that’s absolutely not to deny that some impairments make people miserable. I’m not denying that chronic pain stinks, just as a bodily experience.)
I don’t think that it’s a case of the personal being political in the sense that it’s legitimate to slam people for failing to live their lives the way you see fit, if that’s what you mean. Which is not the same as saying that people shouldn’t be annoyed at an article someone writes.
I think there’s also real structural inequality which gives late-disabled people more access to the media and more of a voice than people who were born with impairments or developed them early. You can really see that with regards to Christopher Reeve. Christopher Reeve had massive access to powerful people and to the media, because he was already a celebrity. And his previously-existing celebrity was completely predicated on his having been able-bodied. Had he been disabled from birth, he could never have played Superman. It is difficult to imagine that a severely disabled actor would have achieved the same degree of fame.
When Reeve talked about his disability, he did so from the perspective of someone who developed an impairment in middle age. That’s a particular perspective: people who are relatively new to impairment see their impairments, and often more general issues surrouding disability, differently from people who have been impaired for a long time. But Reeve’s specific perspective got a lot more attention, and was much more influential in determining policy, than other pespectives, because he had more access, due to his previously-established position as a celebrity. Another way of saying that is to say that he retained vestiges of able-bodied privilege even after he became disabled.
And I think that’s part of the slightly-irksome dynamic here. Newly-disabled celebrities speak from a position of vestigal privilege and of rage at recently-lost privilege, and they’re often taken as spokespeople for all disabled people. When they use that position of privilege to say things that don’t further the cause of disability rights, it’s annoying, even if they’re not doing it on purpose and even if their feelings of loss and hopelessness and whatnot are completely valid. People are entitled to their emotions. It’s just that in the mainstream media we hear a lot more from people in the loss and hopelessness stage than from people who got over that 20 years ago and are now just living their lives.
Does that make any sense to anyone?
The stages one goes through after disability, what I’ve been pounding on post after post here, and the inappropriatness for a person in one stage to judge someone speaking from another. This tells me that the person doing that judging has a long long way to go in their awareness of the dynamics and truth of disability.
And again, there’s that heirarchy of disability: be ‘enabled’ by wheels, or in any way sanctioned by the disability industry and you are one of the favoured. Most disabled women do not fall into that category. Most disabled women do not have throngs of helpers; we are, after all, society’s helpers and nurterers. It is a reality that disabled women can only count on themselves, that the partners and spouses of disabled women walk, that men disabled will be able to count on all their female relatives.
Disabled children are the icons of disability. Why am I not surprised that Blue has so little awareness of what the rest of us experience?
I very much doubt that this context was apparent to most of the non-disabled people reading Dworkin’s writing about her own disability. I don’t think it does come across as so limited to people who have no acquaintance with the rest of the timeline. Blue is not being irresponsible in adding that context to Dworkin’s writing, or in expressing disappointment with a specific narrative that will probably be read as far more general than it should be.
Pony, are you suggesting that Blue is a girl? That she is young and therefore has no right to a voice?
Your hostility is alarming.
And, in attacking her, I think you’re missing your own point, no?
Oh fercrissake just read what I said without dragging any preassumed baggage into it will you please? Although that’s probably too much to expect here since the original post was *all* about baggage.
There are two things going on in the original post: a lack of awareness of disability beyond the limited scope of one of the disabled-favoured; and an attempt to smear Dworkin. Fucking cheap shot, on both counts.
Well Pony, at this point you’re the only one holding up the disability hierarchy. Blue did not smear anyone. She critiqued and criticized which is her right to do. Some of us disagreed with the outcome.
You however, seem hellbent on calling Blue out as childish and somehow privileged b/c what? she needs nursing care?
I think you owe her an apology. Actually, you owe all of us an apology. Your notion of privilege is one sick fuck.
I’m going to stop now because I have work to do. But anyway, I’m really just saying the same thing over and over. No one hears me. What?
Amanda Marcotte wrote: On Dworkin’s style: I would argue that her highly personal style is not intended to make her seem like she suffers more than anyone or even be a comparison. In fact, the opposite. I suspect that her honesty is supposed to be freeing, to be permission to the oppressed to throw off the shackles of polite silence used to oppress. Whether it works is another story.
Naively, this is what I thought discussion following my post would likely be about. I agree with the above and that it’s a valid critique of what I wrote given that I don’t personally appreciate her style of writing.
About being carried up and down stairs: There was a time in college when I had no problem with being lugged anywhere. Even before my recently starting to use a vent, I’ve been much more cautious in the last decade. It’s more dangerous the more impaired you get. And as Penny said, it can just be painful. Also, enjoying a party can be ruined by anticipating being lugged back down. Beyond that, there is a point where, since the lack of access feels (and often legally is) discriminatory, that it can be a matter of dignity. Ditto for having to use the creepy back alley to get in a building, or ride the freight elevator with the garbage.
Sally, that was very well said. It makes perfect sense and is better articulated than I’ve managed.
Pony, you know I’m 37, right?
This strikes me as just plain bizarre: The arrogance of the technically enabled disabled is appalling. Which, of course, means I’ll be obsessing about the various interpretations of it for a while.
Did you think I should patronize her, as you are doing, because she has a disability?
As it stands, I owe no one an apology.
My reference to age were regarding the age you were at first disability, which you posted as 16. Anything else is assumption, based on the horreur that I’ve called you out, rather than coddled you, as was expected.
I categorically refuse your post saying what you were trying to do here was what Marcotte posted. That is not the tenor or the meaning of your original post.
I think I get what you were saying and doing very clearly, and I’m the only person here who’s had the balls to call you on it.
Late to the discussion (adjusting to new employment and gawdawfultired.)
Blue has the right to write about Dworkin, from her pov
Pony has a different pov…as do others.
1. I recognize, objectively that someone at one *stage* of impairment (as if it was grief?) may not have the entire picture/experience/memory of someone on a different timeline…..
2. I admit that I get frustrated when I see people who have one impairment complain about it, as someone who has dealt with multiple impairments (some born with and some acquired later in life that required some adjustment.)
I’ll go so far as to say it is a predjudice of mine. I’m working on it. I don’t feel ‘superior’ or ‘priviledged.’ It’s inappropriate of me to be annoyed when someone with less impairment than myself whines about it, and I admit it. I’m working on it.
As one of many many opinions on this, I agree with Blue in part…
Seeing the whole of Andrea Dworkin’s life, I don’t think it was an impossible or even unrealistic outcome to hope/believe that she might have written about
her experiences in a more activist/politicized way, that we might have had a window in to her struggle that was rooted in an understanding of additional oppressions, new and unpleasant social stigma that “disabled” her more than the impairments themselves…
She chose to be less politicized than blue hoped for…and it was *her* experience after all…
But, the coolness is that blue had that hope, and perhaps another well known feminist who finds themselves impaired *will* be able to write about it in that politicized/activist vein.
It’ll be a good thing for both feminism(s) and disability activism when that happens.
Blue’s post and the comments underscore my sense that it is critically important for there to be meaningful conversation between feminism and disability, for disability is soooo much a feminist issue. I think Blue participates in that conversation here in an overtly disability-focused, but not lacking in feminist principles read of the Dworking essay.
I think it is interesting that Blue’s post begins with uncertainty about the feminist reaction — there’s no disability party line, of couse, but the “disability” reaction is in my estimation pretty clear. I’d tentatively suggest that Dworkin’s feminism is wild and beautiful; but this particular essay — JUST this essay — does not make reveal the rich connections between feminism and disability.
Ok, so it’s totally uncool and somewhat, what? emasculating? if we coddle Blue (which we aren’t).
But if Pony coddles Dworkin it’s all like testicular and tough? Weird.
I see your Dworkin’s knee brace and three flights of stairs and raise you one home nurse and a ventilator.
Pony: can you even address the issue of political expectations of radicalized women? Or do you subsribe to the idea that only the few, and those touched by God, can redeem our sad state of abysmal awareness?
“I see your Dworkin’s knee brace and three flights of stairs and raise you one home nurse and a ventilator.”
Q grrl got it. She got what you were doing Blue.
Am I the only one to whom Dworkin’s description of the circumstances of the party didn’t quite make sense?
A “friend” is throwing her a party — knowing, presumably, that she’s got access issues. Dworkin asks him once about steps, and gets a non-reply. Apparently neither she nor her partner follows up. They arrive at the party having no idea whether the venue is accessible, and it turns out that it’s ridiculously inaccessible. They go home. It turns out that it would have been possible to hold the party somewhere accessible, but nobody thought to do so.
What?
Dworkin has this thing where she offers really strange accounts of her experiences in a matter-of-fact way, as if this were how the world works. As if nothing have been done differently. But if a friend is throwing you a party, it shouldn’t be — and unless you explain why, I’m not sure I believe you when you say it was — impossible to find out in advance whether the party’s being held in a space you’ll be able to enter.
I often find myself, when I’m reading Dworkin, thinking, “Okay, but if that happened, why didn’t you try this?” In the end, I frequently can’t bring myself to believe that she’s telling the whole story.
And I do think that this is part of why people respond to her writing in the various ways they do. She stacks the deck.
Blue, I’m wondering if you’ve actually read any Dworkin. Radical feminism is based on women’s own experiences and political analysis of the same. What Dworkin is doing in this piece doesn’t look too much different to me to how Dworkin approached women lives and our treatment in a male supremacist society.
A lot of your criticism seems to be about nit-picking at the way Dworkin experienced what happened to her – being wrong about what can be classified as suffering, being wrong about thinking that her operation was barbaric, being wrong about whether a humiliation suffered at the hands of people who were supposed to be her supporters was large or small.
What do you think would have made the piece more radical and more like the radicalism of her writings on women? You say this piece isn’t political but the point about feminism is that we understand that the personal is political. It is political for someone to put their experiences as a disabled person into the public arena, in the same way that it is political for a woman to talk first-hand of her experiences at the hands of men.
Maybe if it’s your friend and you’re tired and sick and in pain you just assume your friend knows that and cares enough to work around that issue, that you don’t have to relentless interrogate your friends to make sure they give a party for you that you can get to.
Sure, she could have followed up, submitted a complaint every time she encountered an inaccessible place. But I think the point is that able-bodied folks don’t have to worry about whether they can get to a party thrown in their honor, or whether they can safely walk across a bathroom floor, or whether someone is going to treat them as an adult. I can only imagine how exhausting that would be. I think I’d rather turn around and go home, too.
This discussion has been really interesting to me. I love reading what you write here at Alas and at your blog, Blue, but I also have enjoyed reading what Pony has had to say, especially since it seems like Dworkin is forever vilified by feminists everywhere, and it’s nice to read someone defending her for once. Even the post on this blog, “Saying Something Nice about Andrea Dworkin,” seems to be a small compliment preceded by several paragraphs of caveats.
Some people never ask favours of their friends. And the people who never do this the most, in my experince, are women, and Jews. They don’t want to be seen as asking for something special, be noticed or draw attention to themselves. And they aren’t even disabled. It can take a long time to learn to be disabled, but first you have to recover, from the event, from surgeries, from infected blood clots, breathing difficulties, septicemia, other concurrent systemic illnesses. People are bound and determined to recover. This is not your March of Dimes sanctioned disability. This is the kind of disability most people have who are disabled. And they are women. They are not “officially” disabled, no government, SI or whatever you call it hand-outs, no huge insurance claims, no help with equipment and healthcare needs. They float in that grey-wash of no recognition. So there are two classes of the disabled and no recognition here, of that. The second class, in every aspect of the meaning of the word, are mostly women.
Again, it’s ridiculous here to be judging someone who didn’t get her birth certificate stamped “disabled” as soon as her event occurred. She was disabled by her illness, she didn’t belong to a community of identifiable disabled; the deaf, the deaf with cocchler implants, the deaf who face-read, the deaf who sign, wheelchair community, amputee community, blind, bi-polar community, MS community. She wasn’t getting any tax kick-back. She was in limbo. And that is the state all disabled are in for a time, and then they move on.
Again, it is unbelievably selfish, arrogant and just displays a lack of awareness of the issue of disability (behond one’s own) to judge someone becuase they died before they could get to the next stage. No one of you missed that stage. I absofuckinglutely can guarantee that.
In fact, I think it’s bloody amazing, and in fact, probably unique, that she was in the stage of awareness she was, at that critical stage of what was her fatal illness.
But she didn’t assume, by her own account. She asked the question, which shows she was aware of it as a concern. And she had a partner, who could have made another call for her, or even popped over to check the place out.
I’m not saying it couldn’t have happened like she said — perhaps it did. But it doesn’t quite ring true to me. And like I say, this isn’t an isolated example. Dworkin’s writing is full of this kind of stuff — tales of almost-plausible humiliations with tidy morals.
Most men who are disabled have a veritable army of helpers, who are of course, mostly women. Women who are disabled are alone. Oh there might be an excepion. There might be a sister or a mother, exhausted, worn, ageing, on limited rapidly depleting income. A father will not likely be much in the picture if at all, neither will a husband. If they are, it will be to hire some woman to do it for them. (This happens in the non-disabled world too of course.
Disabled women (those that don’t fit the March of Dimes or male template of disability) will not have much, if any, of the financial supports of those two disabled groups. Most of them will be abandoned by their spouses, and often by their families too, especially if they are at all inconvenient, or mentally ill. Disabled women are raped, beaten, neglected and scorned, often just because they don’t have the huge financial pay-outs that male disabled do, from insurance claims. They don’t have disability insurance, or pensions to cash in, they don’t have houses to sell. In every way, the life of a disabled woman mirrors the life of women in society. She has to enable others, that’s her role, and when she can’t fulfill it, she will be punted. She won’t be nurtured, financially supported, and will have few resources of her own owing to having been a homemaker, or having a shit job, or being paid 60 on the male earning dollar.
I have no idea what Dworkin’s finances were. I have a real good idea that she matched everything else that other disabled women experience. In her non-disabled life, she was the nurturer, it seems, of the whole class of women. I am confident that would have continued.
Whoever up thread said it: you’re right–here is no feminist ethic here. (my words), so there can be no understanding of women’s unique experience of disability. For that, we would need a Dworkin.
Yup. And as I said in a comment over at The Gimp Parade a little while ago, the frustrations of this essay strike me as consistent with the frustrations that arise in Dworkin’s autobiographical feminist writing.
“Yup. And as I said in a comment over at The Gimp Parade a little while ago, the frustrations of this essay strike me as consistent with the frustrations that arise in Dworkin’s autobiographical feminist writing.”
However this isn’t the argument that Blue is making here that this piece somehow doesn’t match up to Dworkin’s radical feminist writing.
Like I said I’m wondering if Blue has actually read much Dworkin, as she was expecting this article to be “apolocalyptic”. When I read that I thought to myself that the only kind of person who would describe Dworkin’s writing as “apocalyptic” would be a patriarchal man, who was rightly worried that radical feminism would bring his particular world to an end. Sure enough it’s a criticism by someone called Robert Campbell who wrote about her in his blog and is quoted in a Wikipedia article on Dworkin.
It’s fair to criticise this piece on its merits or otherwise as a piece of disability rights activism or politics, but don’t pretend it doesn’t match up to radical feminist writings which you weren’t that impressed with in the first place.
I guess I don’t take “the personal is political” to mean that any act of talking about one’s personal life is inherently radical. I take it to mean that we should make the analytical leap to locate our seemingly personal problems as social issues requiring political action. And I think it’s completely legitimate to ask whether Dworkin’s piece successfully made that analytical leap.
Incidentally, I don’t want to make this discussion all about Pony, so I’ll just register that I think pretty much everything she’s said on this thread has been vile. I’ve assumed that people weren’t engaging her because they didn’t think she was worth fighting, but Denise’s comment really gave me pause. So I’ll just say that I understand that Dworkin’s supporters feel the need to defend her from what they see as unfair villification, but I don’t think it’s in any way legitimate to do that by implying that disabled women are unfeminist or male-identified or invalid because they are use wheelchairs, have helpers, receive money from the government, or became disabled too young.
Dear Sally
I’m not a Dworkin supporter. I’ve never even read much of her work. I am a woman disabled, a disability radical activist, and one who has worked in disability advocacy–for money, and for love.
I am however, and in spite of my disabilities, someone with a whack more reading comprehension than you’ve got.
Sincerely
Vile
I agree. The continuities are much more notable — and more interesting — than the differences.
U.S
# Less than one-quarter of women with severe disabilities had a job or business compared with 27.8% of men with a severe disability.
# A less severe disability resulted in 68.4% of women to be employed or have a business versus 85.1% of men with comparable disability.
# Women with disabilities were represented the most in traditionally female-dominated professions, such as registered nurses, elementary and secondary teachers, and librarians.
# Women with severe disabilities had the lowest earnings of any group with median monthly earnings of $1,000.
# Men with severe disabilities had higher earnings than women with non-severe disabilities.
# About 40% of women with a severe work disability lived in poverty. Of those who received work disability benefits from Social Security, more men received higher disabled worker benefits than women. Women with disabilities received lower rates then men.
Australia:
“…Over half of Australian women with disability needed assistance, compared with 39% of men with disability.”
“In Australia in 1993, the participation rate of women with disability in the workforce was 46%, with more women than men likely to be unemployed. Similarly in Canada, the unemployment rate for women with disability was 74%.”
“Strong messages from the media tell us that people with disability – particularly women – are unattractive and cannot fulfill the role of a partner in a relationship. ”
“Women with disability are thought to be incapable of being a supportive wife and/or mother. Statistics show that less women with disability marry, and those who acquire a disability after marriage have a higher rate of separation and divorce. “
“Compared with disabled men, disabled women were much more likely to be living alone (45.4% vs 16.8%, P80% women) were the dominant caregivers for disabled women while wives were the dominant caregivers of disabled men. Gender differences in formal home care were small (2.8 hours for women; 95% CI, 2.5-3.1 vs 2.1 hours for men; 95% CI, 1.7-2.4).”
JAMA
It’s all here when I send. I don’t know what happens. I’ll try one more time. There should be 11 lines:
Results Compared with disabled men, disabled women were much more likely to be living alone (45.4% vs 16.8%, P80% women) were the dominant caregivers for disabled women while wives were the dominant caregivers of disabled men. Gender differences in formal home care were small (2.8 hours for women; 95% CI, 2.5-3.1 vs 2.1 hours for men; 95% CI, 1.7-2.4).
Congrats! Despite my disabilities, I’m someone who can successfully convey actual ideas, rather than just free-floating rage and hostility. I also don’t blame women for failing to have some officially-sanctioned version of female life experience. Maybe we could merge and create a functional blog commenter!
Interesting. In that case, I’m curious about how you came to this conclusion:
There’s actually very little in Dworkin’s article that engages critically with the question of what about her experience is typical of disabled women. There’s the bit about her male doctors refusing to attribute the onset of her disability to her rape, and there’s the sentence about how her male partner isn’t expected to be a caregiver. And that’s it, as far as I can see. There’s no mention, for instance, that women are more likely to develop chronic pain later in life. You’re making the connections, but that’s because you know enough to make them. Readers who don’t aren’t going to see any of this as feminist or even really political, since this was published in a general-interest newspaper read mostly by people who are neither disability activists nor feminists.
That’s interesting. Where in Dworkin’s article would one have learned that? Especially since she mentions throughout that she was living with her male partner?
You wouldn’t have learned “that” anywhere. It was about 15 lines of type that didn’t copy. That is not even one complete sentence. I’ll get it here eventually.
From what I’ve read of Dworkin as a person she sounded constantly concerned for others, and from what I’ve read of her work, she came to similar conclusions to me about women in society. I am not a “supporter” of any of the people whom I know, or read, or read about.
But if I had to chose one, you know, to be a “supporter” of, if I was living in a society where it was demanded one be a supporter of then, this week, it would be the gifted feminist writer Alyx of Mad Sheila Musing. Hmmm, last week, Twisty at I Blame the Partriarchy, week prior, Heart at Womens Space The Margins blog.
“There’s no mention, for instance, that women are more likely to develop chronic pain later in life. You’re making the connections, but that’s because you know enough to make them. Readers who don’t aren’t going to see any of this as feminist or even really political, since this was published in a general-interest newspaper read mostly by people who are neither disability activists nor feminists.”
Yes, this below is what been what I’ve been defending for several pages of posts here. Have you not read anything upthread before you start telling us how it should be?
“There’s actually very little in Dworkin’s article that engages critically with the question of what about her experience is typical of disabled women.”
Have you not read Delphyne’s post.?
It’s not there, and it is unrealistic to expect it would be, because she was ill, dying, experiencing multiple systemic diseases, infected blood clots, two failed knee surgeries, metal knee implants that didn’t support her, etc. She was bed ridden MOST of the time. She was at the end of just over four years –from event to death, of unremitting disabling illness. Not in a stable disabled situation like but unremitting pain, incapacity and illness, and was highly medicated with narcotics–to which she would not yet have become accustomed. This is the state of disability for those who haven’t got something the March of Dimes sanctions as disability, or disability got while crusing into a brick wall on a motorcycle. Etc. Etc.
Well, so far I been told my having been disabled longer than Dworkin makes me overqualified to say anything about Dworkin’s writing. I’ve been told I’m arrogant because I use a wheelchair, because I’m poor enough to qualify for federal and state aid, because that aid pays for people who show up at my home to help me, because I fit the offensive stereotypes of March of Dimes childhood icons of disability, because my form of disability is too male-oriented and privileged, and because I’m not currently dying or dead. None of the above is worth responding to except to say that a lot of it is based on erroneous assumptions about my life and is flat-out inaccurate.
What I take issue with is the implication that I’m not an acceptable woman or feminist because of my particular life experiences. Here’s Pony from comment #42:
And again, there’s that heirarchy of disability: be ‘enabled’ by wheels, or in any way sanctioned by the disability industry and you are one of the favoured. Most disabled women do not fall into that category. Most disabled women do not have throngs of helpers; we are, after all, society’s helpers and nurterers. It is a reality that disabled women can only count on themselves, that the partners and spouses of disabled women walk, that men disabled will be able to count on all their female relatives.
You know, a lot of us who use wheelchairs “enabled” ourselves by the choice to finally sit down because not using a wheelchair was exhausting us and ruining our lives. To then castigate us as “favored” because we could walk no further or not do certain things without help (by machine or person) is insulting and alienating for anyone who’s too disabled to fit your criteria of a credible disabled woman.
I categorically refuse your post saying what you were trying to do here was what Marcotte posted. That is not the tenor or the meaning of your original post.
If you look to comment #48, I never say anything of the kind. I did say in comment #8 and in the comments on my own blog what I was hoping to explore for myself when I wrote this.
As for the characterization that my post slams Dworkin, that’s a pretty unsubtle read of it. I agree with her and support a number of things she comments on, and have serious problems with others. Then I conclude with this:
It’s just a personal piece, quintessentially Dworkin, really. And the sad truth is that any newly disabled person (or newly accepting of the identity) is not ever speaking politically about disability rights unless they say they are, celebrity or not.
Brooklynite: Dworkin has this thing where she offers really strange accounts of her experiences in a matter-of-fact way, as if this were how the world works. As if nothing have been done differently. But if a friend is throwing you a party, it shouldn’t be — and unless you explain why, I’m not sure I believe you when you say it was — impossible to find out in advance whether the party’s being held in a space you’ll be able to enter.
Yes, Dworkin does that in many of the pieces of hers that I’ve read. It’s the principal reason I noted that I’m not a fan of her writing style. It’s like she left a few sentences out somewhere and and I’m not sure I’m making the leap across that gap that she hopes to convey.
But to be fair about the party with the three flights of stairs, it’s very hard to get nondisabled people who don’t need to be aware of such access barriers to seriously look for and see them. Lots of times, a nondisabled person will insist there are no stairs anywhere in the way, and then you discover when you get there that there are two or three. Three flights is a lot, though, and that’s a failing of the friend, not Dworkin. She mentioned it and then trusted him(?) to follow through, which is what you do with friends.
What you still don’t seem to understand Blue, you and the rest of the formally disabled, is the rest of us just have to struggle along without any wheelchairs, literally and figuratively. We don’t fit the male-constructed technologically enhanced disability mould.
There are countless websites on women’s unique experience of disability. None of it is reflected here. I urge you, especially since you presume to speak on behalf of the disabled, to aquaint yourslelf with how the other 80 per cent live. And die.
I’m actually not totally sure what this means. (It must be the poor reading comprehension!) Is anyone ever speaking politically about disability rights unless they say they are, or is this something specific to newly disabled or newly-disabled-identity-accepting people? And if so, why?
Pony, maybe I get it but figure you will speak for yourself if and when your story differs from mine. Being you’re so “informal” and all.
If your beef if with wheelchairs and the industry that makes them, why didn’t you say so? If you’re mad about me and other women who happen to share similar impairments to men, well some of us do. That makes it our (MY) disability experience too. But there have been quite a few women who use wheelchairs speaking in this thread. Some agree with me and some not, so I think the assumption that just because we sit in our special little seats now we don’t understand anything about the disability experiences of women who don’t sit in wheelchairs (yet?) is ridiculous.
I’m aware there are countless websites on “women’s unique experience of disability.” Mine is one of them. And there are over 30 in my blogroll, though I’ve been in the process of adding more. I presume to speak for myself, and when I know of a contingency of others who feel the same I try to mention it. Your decision to blast me for not speaking for everyone sufficiently is what needs a little more thought.
Sally: Is anyone ever speaking politically about disability rights unless they say they are, or is this something specific to newly disabled or newly-disabled-identity-accepting people? And if so, why?
Two ways to look at this, and I intended them both. Dworkin was very public about her politics — it was her life’s work and part of who she was and what she did and wrote. It might be expected that if she took the time to write and publish about her impairments and how the ADA had impacted her life that she would say something as politically radical as how she lived her life as a feminist. It might be expected. Or hoped.
But really, the disability experience is such that it’s an unfair expectation so it shouldn’t be assumed any newly disabled person is speaking politically about disability rights unless they say they are. They will or will not get it in their own time, but it’s a journey. A radical feminist writer does not automatically become a radical disability rights writer. That’s what my essay is about, how Dworkin didn’t meet my hopes and I shouldn’t really have expected her to.
Delphyne: A lot of your criticism seems to be about nit-picking at the way Dworkin experienced what happened to her – being wrong about what can be classified as suffering, being wrong about thinking that her operation was barbaric, being wrong about whether a humiliation suffered at the hands of people who were supposed to be her supporters was large or small.
I wouldn’t — and didn’t — say she was “wrong.” If what I’ve written is interpreted as my announcing some monolithic truths about disability that Dworkin completely failed at, then I need to work on that. It’s about my perceptions of impairment and disability and how it does and doesn’t meet with hers:
“I was excited to hear…
“I was disappointed.
“I’m uncomfortable with the way…
“I agree that the operation… but I dislike how…
“I relate well to Dworkin’s descriptions…
“I have no experience of…
“I remain ambivalent about…”
All about my perception, which doesn’t have the power to make someone else “wrong.”
I do take a stronger stand on her view of what are “little humiliations” because I think she’s not giving herself and her reality enough validity, and that’s a particularly feminist lesson for us all. Also, since she brings up the ADA but only says how it solves all problems, that’s a dangerously incomplete statement, IMO, to have floating around when the law is threatened constantly with Congressonal committee hearings to undermine it and media and public misinformation.
And about my education re Dworkin, I’ve read one book of hers and a few other pieces. I’m aware of her stylistic strategy. It doesn’t work for me even if the substance of what she intends does sometimes resonate.
>Dworkin has this thing where she offers really strange accounts of her experiences in a matter-of-fact way, as if this were how the world works.>
I think this is what happened wrt that being raped in Paris story, not long before she died. It’s not, I think, that a lot of people (i won’t say a lot of other people didn’t genuinely wish her ill) didn’t believe that she was suffering, had had something awful happen; it’s just, that story had a strange disjointed dreamlike feel, much more so than this one.
>Some people never ask favours of their friends. And the people who never do this the most, in my experince, are women, and Jews. They don’t want to be seen as asking for something special, be noticed or draw attention to themselves.
Oy. Well, perhaps; but, and I say this with complete love for the matriarchs in my own family,
“Don’t worry about me…I’ll just sit here in the dark…alone…*sigh*…”
…is one of those stereotypes that has at least some founding in reality, imhe.
signed,
has not yet snatched herself bald-headed, and has gotten a great deal out of deep breathing and meditation techniques
(“Darling, you shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.” *koff*)
“I think this is what happened wrt that being raped in Paris story, not long before she died. It’s not, I think, that a lot of people (i won’t say a lot of other people didn’t genuinely wish her ill) didn’t believe that she was suffering, had had something awful happen; it’s just, that story had a strange disjointed dreamlike feel, much more so than this one.”
The fact that she was drug-raped might have had something to do with this.
Lesson 1 in feminism – believing women about what they say has happened to them at the hands of of men is a radical act. Criticising, nitpicking and generally trying to undermine their experience as happened regarding the rape and is now happening here with regards to her experiences of disability is more of the same old patriarchal bullshit.
I’d rather look at the substance of the statements you made Blue rather than how you prefaced your remarks. You most definitely set out to contradict her experiences –
She says her illness was caused by rape. You say –
“Impairments happen. God doesn’t cause them and they exist without need for any form of moral explanation, whether it blames the person or makes them a victim of someone else’s moral flaws.”
She says her operation was barbaric. You say –
“I agree that the operation seems “barbaric” and thinking about it gives me the willies, but I dislike how Dworkin makes these personal experiences of a common procedure out to be extraordinary”
Only “seems” barbaric. Since when was having both your knees sawn out and replaced a “common procedure”? Most human beings do keep their knees to the end of their lives.
She describes her suffering. You say –
“These hallucinations are normal, though as individual as dreams, and are not proof of anyone’s suffering”
She describes her rejection of having to wear leg braces and her difficulting in coming to terms with her disability. You say –
“It doesn’t seem as though she accepts her body for what it is, and I had hoped for more from the woman who made no accommodations to expectations of feminine beauty or style.”
She was having problems coming to terms with lack of mobility, not making an aesthetic judgement. Her expectations and hopes of being able to move were internal. Are there any newly disabled people who don’t have huge problems accepting their reduced mobility? How exactly do you think feminist consciousness help to avoid this phase? Like Pony says, isn’t this a phase that has to be gone through? It seems harsh for you to criticise her for experiencing it.
She describes certain incidences as “little humiliations”. You say –
“She lacks perspective on what a “little humiliation” is too”
not from any solidarity with her it appears, but in order to heap more criticism on her.
******
“All about my perception, which doesn’t have the power to make someone else “wrong.””
You seem to be having a jolly good try here.
“I’m aware of her stylistic strategy.”
If you are aware of it you must therefore be aware that this piece is in the Dworkin tradition, so why are you complaining here that this piece doesn’t match up to it? I don’t understand. You took the view of an anti-feminist man that her work was “apocalyptic” and when this piece of writing wasn’t (which it wouldn’t be, because he was incorrect in the first place) you use it as a stick to beat Dworkin with. Wouldn’t it have been better to say “I don’t like Andrea Dworkin’s work and this is more of the same, this time on the subject of disability”.
I would like to say that for all your complaints that Dworkin wasn’t doing enough for disability politics, you should note that this, her very last piece of political writing before she died, was on exactly that.
According to the American Academy of Orthopedic Surgeons, there are 300,000 knee replacement surgeries performed every year in the US:
http://orthoinfo.aaos.org/fact/thr_report.cfm?Thread_ID=513&topcategory=Knee
So, it’s definitely not a rare thing. In fact it’s probably on the horizon for many of us, eventually.
You know, I’m sure that you’ve done Blue the respect of reading what she’s written, so you must be aware that Blue has come to the conclusion that this isn’t a political piece.
So I’m curious: how do you think this piece is political? I know that people like to use the slogan “the personal is political,” but I’m curious how you think that works. Is any piece of personal reflection automatically a political act, and if so, is it automatically political in a good or helpful way? And if you do think this piece is political, do you think it’s radical? What do you make of Blue’s critique that Dworkin’s brief discussion of the ADA ignores the threats to it and the work that still needs to be done?
And I guess I’m also interested in the question of whether and how writing that isn’t political is valuable. Obviously, it can be valuable on its literary merits. But is there any other sense in which apolitical writing is useful?
“So I’m curious: how do you think this piece is political? I know that people like to use the slogan “the personal is political,” but I’m curious how you think that works.”
A member of an oppressed group putting their personal experiences of that oppression out there for people to consider is a political act. Are you arguing that it isn’t and that feminists have got it wrong all along?
“Is any piece of personal reflection automatically a political act, and if so, is it automatically political in a good or helpful way?”
Not necessarily. I’m not even sure why you would think I think that. Dworkin in her article made explicit connections to the way she was treated to what all disabled people experience in this society, it’s not just a piece of personal reflection. She said –
“Each disabled person has a story, often including pain, impairment, disorientation and loss of control. Each disabled person lives always on the threshold of separation, exile and involuntary otherness. Only a determined policy of public access can help to mitigate the loneliness. One needs to be able to enter buildings; have a cup of coffee; go to a restaurant, the theatre, cinema or a concert; attend school; go to lectures or readings; use public transport, bathrooms, hotel showers; go to museums and sporting events and political rallies. One needs equal opportunity in employment. One needs to be integrated into the world, not separated from it; yet one has special needs, ones that able-bodied people rarely consider. The low consciousness of the able-bodied increases alienation.”
“And if you do think this piece is political, do you think it’s radical?”
Yes I do think it’s radical, in the tradition of the rest of her radical work which was to take the real experiences of the oppressed and examine the social structures and attitudes that have caused them (see the above quote). I wonder if part of the problem here is that we have different views of what radical is. Radical feminists aren’t using the term in the sense of extreme, they are using it in the terms of going to the root of a problem. So grand political gestures like planting bombs that kill people are not radical although many people will see them as such and will describe the perpetrators as radicals, whilst a person deciding to believe a woman’s account of her rape rather than trying hard to find reasons to disbelieve her is undertaking a radical act. Certainly Blue’s use of the word “apocalyptic” would lead me to believe that she is using “radical” in former sense.
“What do you make of Blue’s critique that Dworkin’s brief discussion of the ADA ignores the threats to it and the work that still needs to be done?”
I’ll take Blue’s word for that. Pity Dworkin died, otherwise she could have done a better job for Blue. However she did so it looks like someone else is going to have to undertake it.
As a matter of interest Blue, how did you come across this piece? It’s quite an old one.
Apolitical writing can be useful if it’s put to a political purpose — if someone else is able to appropriate it for use in a political project. But this piece, like Dworkin’s rape essay mentioned earlier, strikes me as not just apolitical but anti-political, in that it deprecates community and (for the most part) organizing.
“But this piece, like Dworkin’s rape essay mentioned earlier, strikes me as not just apolitical but anti-political, in that it deprecates community and (for the most part) organizing.”
I can only speak regarding women, but Dworkin’s piece on her rape acted like a rallying cry for many of us, showing as it did that even if you are the world’s most famous feminist, your account of your rape will not be believed and that people will in fact take it as an opportunity to attack you. The misogyny that arose in reaction to her account was quite something.
Or maybe *especially* if you are the world’s most famous feminist.
There were two things that were strange about the rape essay. The first is that her account of the attack itself didn’t seem to quite make sense. As she herself reported, her own partner — a prominent anti-rape activist in his own right — had serious questions about it. One can take one of two lessons away from this. The first is that “your account of your rape will not be believed” — not by anyone, including those most sympathetic to you — or that there was something about her particular story that caused the people who were closest to her to doubt it.
The second thing that was strange — and to me, far more disturbing — was the way she handled the aftermath. To pick just one example, she never — as far as I’m aware — identified the hotel in which the attack occurred. And at least in the essays I read, she never gave a clear reason as to why she hadn’t.
If she wasn’t in fact raped, then she did women who are raped a tremendous disservice by concocting such a bizarre story — by telling each of them, as you say, that “your account of your rape will not be believed.”
And if she was raped, she did women who are raped a similar disservice. Perhaps she couldn’t find — or couldn’t bring herself to try to find — feminist medical or legal advice, or even counseling, in Paris. Perhaps she hadn’t, for whatever reason, chosen a feminist gynecologist back home — and couldn’t find a better one after the rape. Perhaps she had good reasons for not bringing charges, and for refusing to name the hotel in which she was attacked. But by making each of those choices, and by presenting each of them not as a choice (and a questionable choice) but as an inevitability, she counseled her readers to despair and passivity.
That’s not political, and it’s not radical.
What about DRUG aided rape do you not understand?
Dworkin arrived home in the US following this, to be almost immediately hospitalized with blood clots. Do you know what roaming blood clots do.
The level of understanding of illnes here is appalling. Shameful in fact under the circumstances, and sickening to see you so openly filled with hatred and lusting over a kill like a hyena over a corpse.
Oh my God, I had to fight people who tried to tear apart Dworkin’s account of her rape directly after she died. I’m not going through that again, it was just too hideous. Look to yourself Brooklynite, look at why you are finding reasons to disbelieve her rather than reasons to believe her. This happens to almost every woman who is raped, it’s a political act: a political act that in the UK, for example, results in 95% of men accused of rape walking free from court. Are all those rape victims doing a disservice to “real victims” as well with their “bizarre” stories that no-one but no-one could believe?
And how is it a “rallying cry” to tell women that if they are raped, their feminist life-partner and feminist doctor won’t believe them? How is it a rallying cry to tell women that it’s pointless to even consider calling the police, or identifying their attackers? How is it a rallying cry to tell men that drugging women is a “foolproof” way to rape them?
Such messages fit with Dworkin’s view of the world — that everyone is an enemy, that everyone will let you down — but they don’t advance any political movement.
Hey Brooklynite just called a rape victim a liar –
“concocting such a bizarre story”
Nice to see that one happening on a feminist blog.
Dworkin, at 58-58, had her knees “sawed out” not once but twice in a period of about 18 months. Three separate brands of knee implants were recalled between 2001 and 2005. It’s obvious to me that her surgery failed, was a disaster in fact, and very likely, one or both of her implanted knee surgeries used devices subsequently recalled. And for the ignorant (yes, in fact I do mean you) when a device is recalled it is not removed from one’s body as a matter of course. But if the device is wrecking the body, the surgeon may try to remove and replace. More devastation occurs, more bone and tissue removed, more muscles and tendons attached to places they don’t belong. In her case, septicema, on top of more blood clots. Septicemia is a very often a harbinger of death, especially in such devasating circumstances.
At the end, she suffered devastating illness caused by the implants; at the end, she wrote an essay showing a very high level of awareness, at the end, with her body raging on antibiotics, morphine, anti-inflammatories of some kind and I’m not talking aspirin, she displayed a far higher awareness of disability issues than those slamming her here, *who are here for the express purpose of slamming her* who are far beyond their disabling incident, have had years of recovery…and don’t have one iota of awareness of either disability politics or feminist politics.
The purpose of the original post is disgusting the pack slinking in to slurp up entrails even more so. I’m so grateful for google, which is archiving your shame.
You are making yourself look so bad. Keep it up.
I don’t believe her or disbelieve her. I’ve never said I believed she hadn’t been raped. I said that her story, as she told it, didn’t quite make sense, and I stand by that.
Much more important, for the purposes of this discussion, is the way she chose to talk about the experience after the fact. As I said earlier, she counseled her readers to despair and passivity — she framed her experience in ways that denied the possibility of effective community, political, or legal action.