Well. I started reading this novel without any sort of context, as I do with most of the novels we've read for class. So, (and I feel like most of you can probably sympathize) I really wasn't ready for the *ahem* intense nature of Crash.
Now, that being said, I'll jump right into this bloggity blog post.
The--to put it gently--intimate nature of Crash combined with both James and Vaughan's fetishization of the car crash highlights the theme (is that the right word choice?) of voyeurism that is present throughout the novel (or at least what we've read so far). Vaughan is a voyeur in his desire to actively seek out/witness car accidents, not to mention the heaps of camera equipment he hoards around in his trunk (Rear Window, anyone?). But we, as the audience, are really no different than Vaughan in terms of our voyeurism: as Ballard describes sexually explicit acts, we look on and witness these acts unfold.
When I first read about the sexual pleasure these men achieve from car crashes and their horrifying consequences, I was instinctively (pardon my French here) freaked the fuck out. The idea of becoming aroused at the pain and suffering of others is, quite frankly, repulsive. However, despite my initial horror at this thought, I realized that these men aren't actually doing anything wrong. At least legally. (Well, with the exception of Vaughan's attempt to murder Elizabeth Taylor...let's disregard that for the moment.) Their actions, though I may find them incredibly creepy, do not affect those around them. So my question is this: does the fact that I (and possibly some of you, as well) find their type of voyeurism appalling necessarily mean that what they are doing is wrong? Or is voyeurism ok, despite the content of what is being watched for sexual gratification? And what does that say about our own voyeurism? For it's undeniable that we are, in fact, voyeurs, especially in relation to this novel.
I was also repulsed by the novel, to the point where some scenes in the section had me putting down the book. Your last paragraph is interesting, though, and brings up a good point. The sex scenes in the novel are incredibly explicit and detailed, and thinking of it in terms of voyeurism and placing the reader in the position of the voyeur explains such detail. It's an interesting question of morality to bring up, and one that's making me question my reading of the book so far.
ReplyDeleteI do feel that their reckless driving does put others at risk, but I don't know if that is related to their fetish or just their personality in general.
Voyeurism itself does not cause anyone any direct harm, but out of their voyeurism arises a destruction that does cause harm-- the car crash. Voyeurism is an invasion of privacy (although it's a bit twisted here, with the car crashes). I wouldn't say it's "OK" since the definition of voyeurism itself implies eroticism. Any "type" of voyeurism makes us squirm as we ourselves cringe at being looked upon in private. As for my own voyeurism as a reader, I myself was uncomfortable too at the descriptions in "Crash." But is it "OK" that we're reading it? Yes, it's a published novel, as simple as that-- perhaps with the intention of us questioning our own role as voyeurs through the difficult-to-read descriptions.
ReplyDeleteLet me clarify, I said "my own voyeurism as a reader" but truly, I should point out the difference between simple observation and voyeurism. They got muddled in my post. I would say as readers, we are observing voyeurs.
ReplyDeleteYou make a good point, Blythe, and it was something I was trying to consolidate in my original post but never really got around to. Observation vs. voyeurism. I suppose that what you say is true: I don't know about you, but "watching" the acts in the book are not really providing me any sexual gratification. (Weird.) At least in that sense, I feel you're right. It's not really fair to call the audience voyeurs. But in terms of voyeurism and privacy, I think things get a little blurred. Voyeurism is defined as a "psychosexual disorder in which a person derives sexual pleasure and gratification from looking at the naked bodies and genital organs or observing the sexual acts of others." Technically, anyone who watches porn, then, is a voyeur. Is the teenage boy watching porn in his bedroom not "OK"? And if we decide that that is, in fact, OK, what makes this type of voyeurism socially acceptable, and Vaughan and James' unacceptable? (I hope the mention of porn is kosher for the blog haha.)
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ReplyDeleteIt is ok to mention porn on the blog. We are all big kids. But I don't think your reasoning is quite right, Mauren. Watching doesn't have to equal arousal. In that sense, not everyone who watchers porn *has* to be a voyeur. (Though they probably are.) The thing I'm wondering about is whether we could extend the use of the term voyeurism to include other sorts of attention and fascination that aren't necessarily sexual. If we can, then our experience of the novel might indeed be voyeuristic, regardless of any libidinal pleasure we might or might not get from it.
ReplyDeleteI'm with you, Dr. Stuber-I feel inclined to call any sort of observation/watching a type of voyeurism, but was hesitant to do so in this post because almost any basic definition of the term includes a sort of sexual gratification. So yes, we are voyeurs!
DeleteI'm inclined to agree that voyeurism doesn't necessarily include sexual stimulus. Honestly, I think the narrative style of Ballard (the character, though possibly the author as well) is designed to make us as readers feel complicit. The manner in which we're forced to witness Ballard's evolution (devolution?) after his crash seems to be some sort of invitation that we can't help but to accept. I'll end by saying that though ( found some of the events described in the novel to be quite disturbing, none of them bothered me more than this overwhelming feeling of complicity.
ReplyDeleteI think I'm agreeing here too. Like the cliche says, its like watching a train wreck (for some people), you just can't look away. While you will be hard pressed to find someone who achieves sexual arousal from a train wreck or any great disaster, our culture takes a sort of voyeuristic-like pleasure (bad word, I know) in these types of events. Anywhere suffering is involved, there you will find the media soaking it all in. I think that might be somewhat (stretching a bit possibly) of the case of what is happening here. These men seek out car wrecks for pleasure just as we seek out the next big disaster to get our fix...
ReplyDeleteThe point Sam makes about our complicity in the novel is what I was attempting to get to today in class. The reason we are able to feel complicit and to not put down the book is because, as extravagantly grotesque and hyperbolic this novel is, we sense that it relates (or is meant to relate) in some way back to ourselves--our ceaseless contact with technology, our pornographic fixations, our fascination with violence and with the perverse. To be sure, we do not take our fascinations to the levels of Ballard, but we do nevertheless bathe in a violent culture as seen in almost any medium.
ReplyDeleteFor me, Ballard's referring to this book as pornographic is eerily prophetic of our modern day understanding of web-streamed pornography. Campolo gave a talk on this a few weeks ago, but pornography as seen on TV has become the template for many's sexual understandings; in accordance with what we watch, we are mimetic in what we eroticize (there are gritty examples here that I want to mention but won't for now). When arguing today in class that Crash exists as a greater degree of our own perversity, I was thinking internally of the dark world of porn itself, the many fantasies that are watched there daily, some of which I think would be formidable opponents to Crash's sexual perversity.
Wow! Clare's tie-in about the relevancy of pornography seems really compelling. Since society's sexual norms, tendencies, fascinations, and desires are often informed through the models of pornography (to a possibly unnatural extent), is it really entirely ridiculous to hypothesize that this reinforcement could extrapolate to an extreme? An extreme in which car crashes were perceived just as some sort of "weird, kinky stuff" that edgy people are interested in. This consideration is possibly evidenced by the popularity of the BDSM-infused 50 Shades of Grey novels.
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