07 April 2015

Shame, Shame!

In French, "What a shame" translates as "Quel dommage", which always sounded to me like it ought to mean "What damage?".  It may be more than half a lifetime since I last did A Level French, but this little nugget popped into my head recently while I was reading Jon Ronson's latest book, 'So You've Been Publicly Shamed'.

'So You've Been Publicly Shamed' is the journalist's exploration of 21st century shaming.  Gone are the stocks and pillory, the rotten missiles and the town square, but the idea that we, the public, have the right to expose and condemn perceived wrongdoing in the public sphere is alive and well.  Ronson's voyage of discovery begins when a group of academics set up a fake Twitter account in his name and, despite trying to reason with them, it's his followers' public shaming that finally makes them delete it.  Justice may have been done, but the method raises uncomfortable questions for Ronson.  It's just the start of a journey that leads to him meeting the victims, judges and executioners in the brave new world of modern shaming.  There are non-fiction writers whose work is just a bit too creative, ordinary joes and janes whose jokes leave a lot to be desired, reformers who think tackling shame would end crime as we understand it and the pioneers of the new science of Online Reputation Management.  The safety of the internet is in doubt and you will never think about it in the same way again.

This was a very interesting book that got stuck into a perspective that felt so new it was almost hard to get my head around.  Early on, Ronson shows why it's so difficult to acknowledge; shaming is something that everyone has been involved in, especially online, at one time or another, most people, even those who make the most vicious comments, usually think they have the moral high ground and are doing something good and we rarely see the full consequences of public shaming.

I've been a fan of Ronson's work for many years and would recommend 'Them: Adventures with Extremists' and 'The Psychopath Test'.  He normally has a slightly meandering style and there is charm in the way he lets curiosity show him where to go next.  But this book left me a bit dissatisfied.  It felt like the concept was a bit unwieldy and the book's structure didn't let him explore topics as much as I, as a reader, would've liked.  For example, a harrowing case study about the consequences of a rape trial cross examination are described, but there is no follow up with forensic linguists about the language of the courtroom and campaigns to make this type of shaming a thing of the past.  Also the section on why people shame seems to hit a dead end before even touching on whether the distancing effect of computer mediated communication is contributing to the rise in online shaming.  I know that the focus of the book was supposed to be victims and how they'd survived shaming, but perhaps more about why people shame would've made readers think about their own behaviour before jumping on the bandwagon.  I was also left a bit confused about shaming in new vs old media.  It might've been interesting to explore whether the case studies showed it's easier to get over a shaming by a weekly newspaper rather than by the massed ranks of Twitter. 

Overall, I did enjoy 'So You've Been Publicly Shamed' and would recommend it to other readers, but it felt a bit unfinished and I sincerely hope that Mr Ronson returns to the topic at a later date.  I would love to read an updated and augmented version of this book in the future.

Now, what next...

06 April 2015

Hitting the Right Note

There's nothing worse for writer's block than staring at an empty page.  So I'm going to try and fill this one with a review of 'When I Met You' by Jemma Forte, which was sent to me by the lovely people at New Books Magazine.

'When I Met You' is the story of a turning point in the life of Marianne Baker.  She says she's happy, but the thirty-something still lives with her parents, has no love life to speak of and has been in the same job since leaving college.  Her one true joy is playing the violin, but that's just a hobby.  Rather than a building any sort of career, she works until she can afford to jet off to a far flung part of the globe, travelling until her cash runs out and she's forced back home to earn more.  Then one dark and stormy night during a sojourn home, her estranged father turns up without warning.  From that moment on, life for Marianne and her family is never going to be the same again.

The size of this book came as a bit of a surprised to me.  It's nearly 450 pages long in the paperback and blimey there's a lot going on!  At times it felt sprawling, with subplots shooting off in every direction and an extended cast of characters that was a little hard to keep track of at first.  It was as though the author had a whole bundle of ideas that had made her laugh, so she'd just shoehorned in as many as she could.  It shouldn't work, but to be honest I found I could forgive most of this book's eccentricities because they made me laugh too and, disparate as some of the ideas seemed, the author knitted them together well.  Sometimes it's just best to go with it and see what happens.

I liked Marianne and could identify with her eclectic family and friends, which made me want to spend time with them.  She could have annoyed me so easily - do I really want to hear about the self-inflicted directionlessness of someone pretty and talented? - but there was just enough humility and self doubt in there to make the reader root for Marianne without wanting to slap her.

Overall, this book asks you to suspend your disbelief and just go with the flow and I felt it was worth it.  It's silly and touching, made me laugh and made me cry, but generally left me feeling hopeful and positive.  Perhaps I'm just an irrepressible optimist.  Or maybe Ms Forte has just written a nice book about love, death and change.

Coming soon... Jon Ronson on public shaming in the internet age...

17 March 2015

Dolly Folly

I felt I needed a bit of a challenge when I last went to my shelves, so decided on something I hoped would be interesting and thought provoking.  That something was 'Living Dolls: The Return of Sexism' by Natasha Walter.

'Living Dolls: The Return of Sexism'
by Natasha Walter
(Virago, 2010/11)
First published five years ago, 'Living Dolls' explores two key issues in modern feminism; The hypersexualisation of western culture and the resurgence of biological determinism as the answer to everything.  Modern western women have more freedoms than ever before, so why is our culture increasingly dominated by a vision of femininity that forces females into an unrealistic, doll-shaped coffin?  Is the rise of raunch, lads mags and the acceptance of pole dancing, pornography and prostitution into mainstream culture really about choice and empowerment?  Should we really just lie back and let it happen because it's in our DNA?

I love a book that makes me think and this certainly did.  It was a lot less intimidating than some books on feminism because it was relatively short at 238 pages, but there were enough fireworks in every chapter to make it more than explosive.

I have to admit that I found the first half, The New Sexism, much easier to read than the second, The New Determinism.  It had a more journalistic style, featuring stories and quotes from various people that were very interesting and gave a range of perspectives.  The second part dealt with more scientific data and experiments, so took more concentration, but I'm grateful to Ms Walter for lifting the lid on a shocking and dangerous perversion of the spirit of enquiry that science represents.  I will never read about scientific research in the popular media in the same way again.

In particular, I found the observations on motherhood and the pattern of behaviour and prejudice created by current maternity/paternity rules fascinating.  I hope a few of our politicians read this book and see the far reaching consequences of legislation based on a traditional picture of family life that is artificially perpetuated rather than natural.  How many glass obstacles could be smashed with a simple change to these rules.

Although I felt that the length of this book was about right for me, I would've liked to explore two things further.  The experiences of men are touched on, but I would've liked to have known more about whether they feel as uncomfortable with the hypersexualisation of our culture.  After all, it ignores their intelligence and treats them like they're only interested in sex.  Isn't that insulting to them too?   It also seems to me that men are also beginning to come under pressure to have the perfect, Ken doll body - I mean, seriously, even Poldark has a six pack in 2015! I think I would've been interested to know more about this too.  (And by 'this' I mean the pressure on men to look a certain way, not Poldark's six pack.  Prince Charming reads this blog for crying out loud!)

Admittedly, women have a bigger job on their hands, trying to tackle thousands of years of ingrained oppression and stereotyping, but it's interesting to look at all the consequences of sexism, not just for women.  Once it's shown to be bad for everyone, it should become impossible to deny the need for change.