5 things you should read this week
the monday post
good afternoon! look at me, keeping a schedule…
this week’s discussion topics/reading recs include the viral vanity fair essay profiling the internet-primed “new right”, a spot-on criticism of the de-sexification of cinema, a Jamaica Kincaid essay chronicling her life in new york in the 60s (if this is your introduction to Kincaid’s work, thank me later — she’s one of a kind), and a criticism of the politics of “punching up” (i have many things to say on this topic that aren’t covered in the essay, so i hope we can discuss).
fyi, many of you might have read some (or all!) of these already — i’m clearing out my backlog of must-reads because i think a lot of these are pretty foundational and/or will spark great conversation. for all you esoterica-heads, deeper cuts will be on their way in the future. as is custom, the first 2 recs are free to everyone.
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Everyone is Beautiful and No One is Horny by RS Benedict
another piece of necessary reading in my sexlessness syllabus. benedict lays out a compelling criticism of the ways in which on-screen stars have increasingly approached meticulous, almost robotic aesthetic perfection while, paradoxically, the cinema that features them has become terminally un-horny in equal measure. a really accessible tie-in to this criticism is, i think, the popular online dichotomy between “hot-ugly” and “ugly-hot” — i.e., why do the rough, imperfect stars of the 60s and 70s (and their much rarer modern aesthetic counterparts) have so much more sex appeal than the flawless specimens shoved down our throats by the heartthrob industry?
another example off the top of my head: in the latest scream movie (spoilers), the film’s very beautiful serial killers are in an explicitly romantic relationship — but their partnership doesn’t contain even a fraction of the pure sex that dripped off the dynamic between the original film’s billy loomis and stu macher. Scream (1996), like many films from the 80s and 90s, was incredibly sexy without even trying, but something about the high-budget, high-production remakes of today manage to neuter them in the pursuit of perfection. it reminds me of a ken doll — perfect abs, no cock. objectively sexy, subjectively sexless. i find this concept very interesting… if any examples come to mind, i’d LOVE to discuss in the comments.
i’m tempted to say that the sparkling, revelatory prose with which Jamaica Kincaid writes of her 20s in new york city is like if your favourite complex female protagonist was orders of magnitude more likeable or interesting, but even that is selling Kincaid so short that it borders on offensive. whenever i’m tasked with writing a personal essay, i turn to this piece as the blueprint for how to write intimately without being heavy, preachy, or pitiful.