There's stuff that you can say in dance that you just can't say with words. 'Course, when I say "you" I mean "humankind as a whole"; I can't speak for you personally, and for myself, there's nothing much that I can say in dance, full stop. My attempts on that front are best compared with those of a unilingual Brit in a foreign country -- "no hablo español". Although, just as the accent and pronunciation of said Brit act as case-in-point, so a terpsichoreal rendering would doubtless lend my own confession the more conviction. "Je ne ne peux pas parler danser" indeed.
Anyways, I digress. Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake, as well as being a beautifully impressive feat of skill and art, was also engagingly emotionally expressive. The story (much as it seems a shame to, after all, translate it into words) is of a young prince floundering under the weight of expectation and obligation accompanying his privileged birthright. He has every material provision he could possibly desire, and all the fame and popularity of many 'normal' people's wildest dreams. But in no dimension of his life does he have the permission or opportunity to "be himself" -- or even to begin to figure out who that person might be. The mundanities of his routine are meticulously attended to by servants; his 'work' amounts to attending events in his honour and allowing himself to be seen by his subjects; his entertainments are lavishly and seamlessly dictated for him; his love affairs are scrutinised, and prospective suitable female companions made plentifully available. Swept by the current of other people's determinings, he is drowning in his own existence. He finds his duties absurd, repetitive and uninspiring; the constant company and attention wearies and inhibits him; the ready admiration is all very well, but he knows nothing of friendship; and even his own mother (towards whom he has such, erm, intense emotions that I thought she was his wife/fiancee) is cold and formal, and far more interested in her stream of male admirers. For a long time he does his best to keep up appearances, maintaining his official attendances, upholding the standards of politeness and decorum, and even, contrary to longings he is increasingly aware of, acquiring a girlfriend -- a super-keen ditsy-floosie-type whose own inappropriate behaviour and cultural naiveté wind up causing more problems for him than her presence in his life resolves.
Eventually, driven to the edges of forbearance, he turns his hand instead to 'throwing in the towel' with sensational decisiveness. He takes to drinking and, under the influence, falls out almost violently with his mother; he staggers to a club and gets thrown out for fighting, then spends an evening on the streets, disheveled and undignified. Alone, and trapped in a life devoid of sympathy and self-expression, he designs to end it all by drowning himself in the lake at a nearby public park. But just as he approaches the water ... cue the swans. They are such an entrancing sight that he pauses in his intention, tentatively attempts to connect with them, and eventually is swept up into their company and the attention and longed-for affection of the lead swan. After a whole act's worth (if I'm honest, it began to drag a little...) of intense nocturnal avine carousal, the prince finally feels a sense of his own self-worth and the hope of a meaningful, valued and valuable existence; a new day dawns and he re-embarks on life with renewed energy.
So ends the first half. But...there is more disappointment and heartache and conflict and (redemptively?) poignantly beautiful tragedy to come, as he again must face the harsh realities of his world, with all its requirements and insensitivity -- as epitomised in the character of von Rothbart Jr.: an intensely aggressive, unsettlingly charismatic, and sexually magnetic party guest at a royal ball attended by the Prince. His dramatic entrance on the scene precipitates a crisis; his command of the room and vanquishment of its female occupants (including, to the Prince's distress, his own mother), and his inescapable allure, enhanced by his resemblance to the swan chief, show him to be everything the Prince is supposed to be, and isn't, and everything the Prince is not supposed to desire, and does. His inner conflict once more intensifies and externalises, with tragic consequences...
Although some of the pressures on the Prince arise from his elevated and unusual position, many are not so distinct from those commonly or typically imposed on all of us -- particularly in the dimension of gender. The extent to which we "feel" the weight of expectation I suspect depends on the degree to which we naturally conform. Insofar as we happen to fit the bill without trying, we may not even realise that there is a bill to fit -- and consequences to not fitting it. The Prince's mother, in one scene, manoeuvres him in front of a mirror and pulls his shoulders back. "Man up", she seems wordlessly to say to him. But what does it mean to be a man? the ballet asks, and challenges some of the standard answers. Is it to be like von Rothbart? Fight, drink, dominate the room, and whatever political or public or business or cultural sphere to which you happen to belong? Conquer hordes of men and hearts of women? The Prince ... he doesn't really fit that particular bill. If that's what it is to be a man, well, perhaps he'd rather be a swan.
To me, it increasingly seems as though many of our prevailing ideas about manhood and womanhood are rooted in damaging, limiting (and yet, often, weirdly contradictory) caricatures. It begins with the princess dollies and action men, the Fisher Price ovens and car parks, the pink frills and the blue baseball caps ... the "toy" make-up sets, and those guns that shoot terrible noises. Hopefully buried under a sea of Lego, and books, and unidentifiable toilet-roll-and-washing-up-liquid-bottle-based constructions... But present, nonetheless, and making their presence felt. And then advertising happens, and the media, and peer pressure, and well-meaning misguided grown-up role models, and celebrities, all conspiring to produce another generation of otherwise rational adults conveniently programmed with lots of commercially-exploitable, status quo-preserving notions about how to be 'real' men and 'real' women.
It is shameful to be seen in public without make-up. You're not complete without a man. You're not complete without babies. You owe it to women everywhere to flourish in your career, so never let your mandatory man and obligatory babies hold you back. Remember that "business executive Barbie" you had as a kid? OK, great; keep the image in mind...on which note, do be sure to get your pre-pregnancy Barbie-like figure back ASAP otherwise you'll lose that man of yours and then you'll be nothing all over again, promotions and progeny notwithstanding. Football, cars, science, video games...these are all very well if they help you to get a man (lots of guys 'dig' that ladette/girl geek vibe) but be sure to counter-balance them with extra 'hotness', and don't waste your time getting distracted by them in and of themselves. You have no time for hobbies, remember. Not with all that 'excess' body hair to keep on keeping off.
That's just a top-of-my-head what-it-looks-like-to-me-right-now speaking-as-a-woman sketch of the kind of thing I think I mean. I can only guess how the corresponding pressures manifest to men. Stuff to do with concealing emotion, attaining a certain height, being physically strong, securing a top job with a top wage, playing the field, not liking sewing...
'Course, the whole thing's massively more complicated and nuanced -- from all angles -- than I've made it sound. But you get the gist, maybe, I hope.
So, what's the answer? Cast off male/female gender distinctions altogether and aim for a uniform androgyny? -- or a fluid continuum? I empathise with those who agitate for some variant of such a manoeuvre...and I know that there's heaps of serious philosophical scholarship and debate on the subject of gender which I haven't (and might sadly never, though I'd like to) read. But if I may dare express some instinctive, uneducated musings (and past evidence suggests that I do dare :-/ ) to me it feels like a classic "baby out with bathwater" scenario; I reckon we lose something and we limit ourselves if we disdain the distinction just as we do if we make false distinctions. Sure, we absolutely need to get rid of the crass and superficial criteria associated with being a man, with being a woman. But my hope is that, if we did manage to do this, the positive and life-giving aspects of the two would become more evident and impactful. I even dare to venture that, by thus retiring "conformity" as a criteria for personal respect, we might become better at compassionately and wisely celebrating individual diversity in all its vast array. (That is, I appreciate that there are many who are uncomfortable with either 'traditional' (i.e. male/female) gender label, but I am not convinced that they would be better served or better understood (by themselves or by others) in a common renunciation of those terms than they would be in a common increased appreciation of them).
So, where do we begin seeking positive, right expressions of manhood and womanhood? For me, as someone who is joyfully, sincerely, and (hopefully sometimes at least) humbly seeking to submit to the loving authority of God, and believing as I do that He has revealed something of Himself and His purposes for us in the Bible ... that seems a pretty obviously crucial starting point. But I'm not going to pretend that I don't sometimes find the Bible problematic on the subject of male and female roles; some of the more explicitly relevant material makes for an uncomfortable read (although, the fact that it is distasteful to contemporary ideals doesn't in itself prove it's insignificance). Much of it appears to be open to discussion about cultural context; often, perhaps, a 'correct' interpretation might be one which looks deeper than the surface level details (which may be "of their time") to draw out the implied underlying lessons. I'm certainly not ready (and perhaps never will be) to lay bare my reasonings and grapplings with regard to these matters in their full complexity. But two things encourage me lately:
First thing: Essentially, God's instruction and desire for both men and women is the same right and life-giving relationship with Him:
[1] To those expecting more Jason, less sissonne, on the basis of the title, I apologise. There is a pleasing irony to the mismatch, no?
[Thumbnail image CC from Andy M Smith on Flickr]
Anyways, I digress. Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake, as well as being a beautifully impressive feat of skill and art, was also engagingly emotionally expressive. The story (much as it seems a shame to, after all, translate it into words) is of a young prince floundering under the weight of expectation and obligation accompanying his privileged birthright. He has every material provision he could possibly desire, and all the fame and popularity of many 'normal' people's wildest dreams. But in no dimension of his life does he have the permission or opportunity to "be himself" -- or even to begin to figure out who that person might be. The mundanities of his routine are meticulously attended to by servants; his 'work' amounts to attending events in his honour and allowing himself to be seen by his subjects; his entertainments are lavishly and seamlessly dictated for him; his love affairs are scrutinised, and prospective suitable female companions made plentifully available. Swept by the current of other people's determinings, he is drowning in his own existence. He finds his duties absurd, repetitive and uninspiring; the constant company and attention wearies and inhibits him; the ready admiration is all very well, but he knows nothing of friendship; and even his own mother (towards whom he has such, erm, intense emotions that I thought she was his wife/fiancee) is cold and formal, and far more interested in her stream of male admirers. For a long time he does his best to keep up appearances, maintaining his official attendances, upholding the standards of politeness and decorum, and even, contrary to longings he is increasingly aware of, acquiring a girlfriend -- a super-keen ditsy-floosie-type whose own inappropriate behaviour and cultural naiveté wind up causing more problems for him than her presence in his life resolves.
Eventually, driven to the edges of forbearance, he turns his hand instead to 'throwing in the towel' with sensational decisiveness. He takes to drinking and, under the influence, falls out almost violently with his mother; he staggers to a club and gets thrown out for fighting, then spends an evening on the streets, disheveled and undignified. Alone, and trapped in a life devoid of sympathy and self-expression, he designs to end it all by drowning himself in the lake at a nearby public park. But just as he approaches the water ... cue the swans. They are such an entrancing sight that he pauses in his intention, tentatively attempts to connect with them, and eventually is swept up into their company and the attention and longed-for affection of the lead swan. After a whole act's worth (if I'm honest, it began to drag a little...) of intense nocturnal avine carousal, the prince finally feels a sense of his own self-worth and the hope of a meaningful, valued and valuable existence; a new day dawns and he re-embarks on life with renewed energy.
So ends the first half. But...there is more disappointment and heartache and conflict and (redemptively?) poignantly beautiful tragedy to come, as he again must face the harsh realities of his world, with all its requirements and insensitivity -- as epitomised in the character of von Rothbart Jr.: an intensely aggressive, unsettlingly charismatic, and sexually magnetic party guest at a royal ball attended by the Prince. His dramatic entrance on the scene precipitates a crisis; his command of the room and vanquishment of its female occupants (including, to the Prince's distress, his own mother), and his inescapable allure, enhanced by his resemblance to the swan chief, show him to be everything the Prince is supposed to be, and isn't, and everything the Prince is not supposed to desire, and does. His inner conflict once more intensifies and externalises, with tragic consequences...
Although some of the pressures on the Prince arise from his elevated and unusual position, many are not so distinct from those commonly or typically imposed on all of us -- particularly in the dimension of gender. The extent to which we "feel" the weight of expectation I suspect depends on the degree to which we naturally conform. Insofar as we happen to fit the bill without trying, we may not even realise that there is a bill to fit -- and consequences to not fitting it. The Prince's mother, in one scene, manoeuvres him in front of a mirror and pulls his shoulders back. "Man up", she seems wordlessly to say to him. But what does it mean to be a man? the ballet asks, and challenges some of the standard answers. Is it to be like von Rothbart? Fight, drink, dominate the room, and whatever political or public or business or cultural sphere to which you happen to belong? Conquer hordes of men and hearts of women? The Prince ... he doesn't really fit that particular bill. If that's what it is to be a man, well, perhaps he'd rather be a swan.
To me, it increasingly seems as though many of our prevailing ideas about manhood and womanhood are rooted in damaging, limiting (and yet, often, weirdly contradictory) caricatures. It begins with the princess dollies and action men, the Fisher Price ovens and car parks, the pink frills and the blue baseball caps ... the "toy" make-up sets, and those guns that shoot terrible noises. Hopefully buried under a sea of Lego, and books, and unidentifiable toilet-roll-and-washing-up-liquid-bottle-based constructions... But present, nonetheless, and making their presence felt. And then advertising happens, and the media, and peer pressure, and well-meaning misguided grown-up role models, and celebrities, all conspiring to produce another generation of otherwise rational adults conveniently programmed with lots of commercially-exploitable, status quo-preserving notions about how to be 'real' men and 'real' women.
It is shameful to be seen in public without make-up. You're not complete without a man. You're not complete without babies. You owe it to women everywhere to flourish in your career, so never let your mandatory man and obligatory babies hold you back. Remember that "business executive Barbie" you had as a kid? OK, great; keep the image in mind...on which note, do be sure to get your pre-pregnancy Barbie-like figure back ASAP otherwise you'll lose that man of yours and then you'll be nothing all over again, promotions and progeny notwithstanding. Football, cars, science, video games...these are all very well if they help you to get a man (lots of guys 'dig' that ladette/girl geek vibe) but be sure to counter-balance them with extra 'hotness', and don't waste your time getting distracted by them in and of themselves. You have no time for hobbies, remember. Not with all that 'excess' body hair to keep on keeping off.
That's just a top-of-my-head what-it-looks-like-to-me-right-now speaking-as-a-woman sketch of the kind of thing I think I mean. I can only guess how the corresponding pressures manifest to men. Stuff to do with concealing emotion, attaining a certain height, being physically strong, securing a top job with a top wage, playing the field, not liking sewing...
'Course, the whole thing's massively more complicated and nuanced -- from all angles -- than I've made it sound. But you get the gist, maybe, I hope.
So, what's the answer? Cast off male/female gender distinctions altogether and aim for a uniform androgyny? -- or a fluid continuum? I empathise with those who agitate for some variant of such a manoeuvre...and I know that there's heaps of serious philosophical scholarship and debate on the subject of gender which I haven't (and might sadly never, though I'd like to) read. But if I may dare express some instinctive, uneducated musings (and past evidence suggests that I do dare :-/ ) to me it feels like a classic "baby out with bathwater" scenario; I reckon we lose something and we limit ourselves if we disdain the distinction just as we do if we make false distinctions. Sure, we absolutely need to get rid of the crass and superficial criteria associated with being a man, with being a woman. But my hope is that, if we did manage to do this, the positive and life-giving aspects of the two would become more evident and impactful. I even dare to venture that, by thus retiring "conformity" as a criteria for personal respect, we might become better at compassionately and wisely celebrating individual diversity in all its vast array. (That is, I appreciate that there are many who are uncomfortable with either 'traditional' (i.e. male/female) gender label, but I am not convinced that they would be better served or better understood (by themselves or by others) in a common renunciation of those terms than they would be in a common increased appreciation of them).
So, where do we begin seeking positive, right expressions of manhood and womanhood? For me, as someone who is joyfully, sincerely, and (hopefully sometimes at least) humbly seeking to submit to the loving authority of God, and believing as I do that He has revealed something of Himself and His purposes for us in the Bible ... that seems a pretty obviously crucial starting point. But I'm not going to pretend that I don't sometimes find the Bible problematic on the subject of male and female roles; some of the more explicitly relevant material makes for an uncomfortable read (although, the fact that it is distasteful to contemporary ideals doesn't in itself prove it's insignificance). Much of it appears to be open to discussion about cultural context; often, perhaps, a 'correct' interpretation might be one which looks deeper than the surface level details (which may be "of their time") to draw out the implied underlying lessons. I'm certainly not ready (and perhaps never will be) to lay bare my reasonings and grapplings with regard to these matters in their full complexity. But two things encourage me lately:
First thing: Essentially, God's instruction and desire for both men and women is the same right and life-giving relationship with Him:
Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised. (Proverbs 31:30)
Praise the LORD! Blessed is the man who fears the LORD, who greatly delights in his commandments! (Psalm 112:1)Second thing: Cultural and behavioural norms are (naturally) observable in the characters and events narrated in the Bible (and many are supported/emphasised/accepted explicitly by the law books and wisdom literature, and the letters in the New Testament -- again, I don't want to ignore or diminish this fact). But the Bible is also full of accounts of God interacting graciously with individuals as individuals, very often outside of society's expectations, and, as He does so, turning nonconformity to His glory and our blessing. Some examples, off the top of my head:
- The fourth Judge of pre-monarchic Israel (around 1200 BC) is a woman named Deborah, who leads a successful military counter-attack against the armies of Canaan. Interestingly, a pivotal moment of that campaign is brought about by another woman, Jael, who drives a tent peg through the head of the sleeping military commander of Canaan. According to the account in Judges 4-5, this victory ushers in 40 years of peace (a long time in those turbulent days) -- perhaps testament to the positive outcomes potentially associated with allowing female influence to complement male influence in leadership ... although that's probably extrapolating the implications of the passage unreasonably far.
- When the prophet Samuel goes to meet the sons of Jesse in search of the man who is to be the new king over Israel, God steers him away from the 'most likely' candidates -- David's older, more strikingly 'manly', brothers -- saying “Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him. For the LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7) Later, in the joyful event of the Ark of the Covenant being brought back to Jerusalem, David displays his own disregard for his appearance in other people's eyes by dancing uninhibited wearing only a linen ephod. Reproached by his wife for this unseemly behaviour, he is unabashedly unapologetic: "It was before the LORD, who chose me above your father and above all his house, to appoint me as prince over Israel, the people of the LORD—and I will celebrate before the LORD. I will make myself yet more contemptible than this, and I will be abased in your eyes.” (2 Samuel 6:21-22)
- When Jesus visits Mary and Martha, two of many female followers and close friends of his, tension arises between the sisters when Mary neglects her typical female household duties of service and hospitality in order to sit and learn at Jesus' feet (in a manner more typically expected of a male disciple). But Jesus commends her, and implies that the anxious Martha might do well to learn from her example. “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.” (Luke 10:41b-42)
[1] To those expecting more Jason, less sissonne, on the basis of the title, I apologise. There is a pleasing irony to the mismatch, no?
[Thumbnail image CC from Andy M Smith on Flickr]
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