The perpetual-motion joy machine
Apr. 9th, 2012 11:05 am![[personal profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kassMy thanks are due to this post's beta-readers, who improved it tremendously. Y'all rock.
I've been thinking a lot lately about fandom: what my experience of fandom is, what I want my experience of fandom to be, and why I am so grateful to have lucked into the particular corner of fannish culture which I am fortunate enough to call my home.
One of the things I love about fandom is that it is a place where I can pursue joy -- through reading; through writing; through conversation. Being a part of fandom, these last dozen years or so, has given me greater ability -- and also a kind of permission -- to value my own pleasure and seek my own joy.
Mainstream American culture tells me, in many subtle (and unsubtle) ways, that it's not appropriate for me as a woman to prioritize pleasure and joy. It tells me I should be spending my time on something with redeeming qualities, not faffing about with fangirls on the internets. I "should" be volunteering somewhere, I should be folding the laundry, I should be scrubbing the floors, I should be tending to someone else's needs -- anything but prioritizing my own pleasure, because a woman who values her own pleasure is selfish. Choosing to spend time in fandom is a way of pushing back against that chorus of voices which whisper in my ear that I "ought" to be doing something "better" with my time. Choosing to spend time in fandom is one of the ways I try to cultivate joy.
The gardening metaphor is intentional. Seeking joy is (for me) a discipline which requires effort. I'm not talking about unrelenting optimism (which can involve a kind of "la la la I can't heeeeear you" response to anything painful), or the false politeness of putting on a happy face no matter what arises. I'm talking about the active practice, which sometimes falters and then I take a deep breath and try it again, of seeking, and creating, joy for myself and for those around me. Fandom isn't the only place where I (try to) do this, but it's one of the primary places where I try to live out this intention.
For me, the pursuit of joy as a good in itself is a feminist act. Yes, I am somebody's spouse; yes, I am somebody's mother; and yes, I still want and need and deserve pleasure and joy. I have obligations and responsibilities to my partner and my child, but they don't obviate my own selfhood or my desire for things which make me happy, things which are mine.
I don't think that men -- in my culture, at this moment in time -- labor under the same weight of expectation (as do women) that they should privilege serving others over doing something for themselves. I don't think it's as hard for men as it is for women -- again, in my culture, at this moment; I'm not trying to speak in universals -- to claim time for themselves, space for themselves. I don't think men are taught to feel the same kind of shame when they have desires for pleasure or for joy. (Why hello there, A Room of One's Own! And okay, I recognize that when Woolf wrote that in 1929, she was talking about ensuring that women had the fiscal space to create art, not just the emotional and personal space, but I think the two are intertwined.)
Of course there are men who struggle to find, or create, space for art; to find, or create, a sense that they have permission to focus on themselves for a little while instead of on the dishes or the baby or the obligations. And in my opinion, when men push back against those pressures, that's a feminist act too. If we lived in a world in which all of us felt able to value our own joy, our own pleasure, that would be a wonderful thing. May it come speedily and soon.
I'm not saying that everyone who pursues her own joy necessarily sees that as a feminist act, nor that everyone in fandom is necessarily (or necessarily ought to be) a feminist. What I'm saying is, when I make the active choice to pursue my own joy, I understand that choice as an expression of my feminism. To me, the notion that joy and pleasure matter -- specifically that a woman's joy and pleasure matter -- is a feminist notion.
And joy and pleasure do matter. No life should be without them. Joy and pleasure aren't (in my worldview) something one needs to "deserve" or earn; they're something everyone should have. I'm not sure whether this stance comes more out of my feminism or out of my religious tradition, but it's among my core values. For me, being in fandom is largely about trying to create space for more joy.
The fact that I understand fandom in this way reveals all kinds of privilege in my invisible backpack, which gives me the luxury of being able to think about fandom and about my participation in fandom in these pleasure-centric terms. I know that sometimes the fannish things with which I fall in love, the shows or characters or pairings in which I become so deeply and joyfully invested, are problematic. And often fandom's response to those source texts is problematic too. (Such as, e.g., when an ensemble show gives us two white guys and two characters of color, and slash fandom-at-large, me included, falls in love with the two white guys, giving the characters of color short shrift.)
I don't have good answers to that systemic dilemma. I tend to think in terms of "it's not incumbent upon you to finish the task, but neither are you free to refrain from beginning it." (Pirkei Avot.) It's not up to any one of us to solve a systemic problem like that one -- but it's also not okay to just shrug and ignore what's broken in our culture and in the world we share.
My tendency is to look for answers which involve creating more, not less. I'm not interested in shaming anyone for what they love; I think claiming the pleasure we find in these shared imaginative worlds is struggle enough without that kind of internal policing. I'm interested in figuring out how we can broaden the scope of what we love, and how we can share more of what we love with each other. I'm interested in creating more joy.
Of course, my arguments for why pursuing joy is a feminist act are equally true of pursuing anger. Anger can be an empowering force, and a powerful one, and it's as legitimate within fandom (in relation to fannish source texts, fannish trends, fans ourselves) as it is elsewhere. For many women, reponding to the kyriarchy with anything other than anger is painful or impossible. I respect that and honor it.
But in my own fannish life, I strive toward cultivating joy rather than anger. That's my temperament; it's part of my understanding of what it means to be a person practicing my particular faith and walking my chosen spiritual path; and it's what I've learned keeps me the most healthy and the most whole. The world is full of injustice, on every level, from global inequities of resources down to which screenplays get produced. Some of us turn righteous fury and rage toward the task of making the world a better place. Others try to repair the world through other means. Right now, at least, I think my best tool for that work is joy.
Sometimes bringing joy means cooking a meal for someone, or coming up with an allergy-compliant brownie recipe for a birthday, or sending a postcard, or pitching in to a passed Paypal hat to help someone out of a tight spot. And sometimes it means writing Eleven/Amy/Rory fic. Which I might laughingly disclaim as self-indulgent id-fic, but -- why disclaim, actually? What's wrong with indulging myself? If writing it brings me pleasure, and sharing it with others magnifies that pleasure, then that's a good thing, not something to feel sheepish about or to hide away.
When I first became a mother, I struggled with this anew. If the baby were napping and I had the choice between doing some dishes and reading a bit of fic, I would choose the latter -- and then sometimes feel guilty about my choice (especially if my in-laws were here doing the dishes for me!) What did it say about me that I would rather read fic, or natter with friends on dw/lj/irc, than vacuum the rug? What does it say about me that when I have a bit of money to spare, I spend it on going to a con so I can connect with my community, watch vids, soak up squee, be with y'all instead of spending it on a new vacuum cleaner -- or for that matter, a donation to a worthy cause? (Okay, I try to make the donation to the worthy cause, too.)
What it says about me is that I love my friends and my community and our shared pastimes. It says that I derive tremendous joy and pleasure from hanging out with y'all (online and in person), from the stories and vids I make for you and the stories and vids you make for me. It says that I know my own needs are important. That if I don't fill up my own metaphorical tank, I don't have the juice to care for anyone else. That I aspire to keep myself connected with people I love and with the activities we share. It says that I know my pleasure and my joy matter, even though my world is filled with subtle and pervasive messages which argue otherwise.
That's the biggest gift fandom has given me. A deeper and more nuanced understanding of the stories, the tropes, the characters, the visuals, the ideas which bring me joy... and a community of others with whom to share said stories, tropes, characters, visuals, ideas, and the joy which arises out of them. And maybe the best part is, this is a well which need never run dry. There will never be an end to stories we can tell, variations on our chosen themes, conversations we can have.
Fandom is, at its best, a kind of perpetual motion joy machine. And fandom has given me the ability to connect with that perpetual joy, and the chutzpah to stand up and say, I deserve this. We all deserve this. One of the tiny ways in which I can make the world a happier place is through making things and sharing them with people who might enjoy them too. Because -- in my experience, ymmv -- that's what fans do. We make joy for and with each other. I hope we never stop.
I've been thinking a lot lately about fandom: what my experience of fandom is, what I want my experience of fandom to be, and why I am so grateful to have lucked into the particular corner of fannish culture which I am fortunate enough to call my home.
One of the things I love about fandom is that it is a place where I can pursue joy -- through reading; through writing; through conversation. Being a part of fandom, these last dozen years or so, has given me greater ability -- and also a kind of permission -- to value my own pleasure and seek my own joy.
Mainstream American culture tells me, in many subtle (and unsubtle) ways, that it's not appropriate for me as a woman to prioritize pleasure and joy. It tells me I should be spending my time on something with redeeming qualities, not faffing about with fangirls on the internets. I "should" be volunteering somewhere, I should be folding the laundry, I should be scrubbing the floors, I should be tending to someone else's needs -- anything but prioritizing my own pleasure, because a woman who values her own pleasure is selfish. Choosing to spend time in fandom is a way of pushing back against that chorus of voices which whisper in my ear that I "ought" to be doing something "better" with my time. Choosing to spend time in fandom is one of the ways I try to cultivate joy.
The gardening metaphor is intentional. Seeking joy is (for me) a discipline which requires effort. I'm not talking about unrelenting optimism (which can involve a kind of "la la la I can't heeeeear you" response to anything painful), or the false politeness of putting on a happy face no matter what arises. I'm talking about the active practice, which sometimes falters and then I take a deep breath and try it again, of seeking, and creating, joy for myself and for those around me. Fandom isn't the only place where I (try to) do this, but it's one of the primary places where I try to live out this intention.
For me, the pursuit of joy as a good in itself is a feminist act. Yes, I am somebody's spouse; yes, I am somebody's mother; and yes, I still want and need and deserve pleasure and joy. I have obligations and responsibilities to my partner and my child, but they don't obviate my own selfhood or my desire for things which make me happy, things which are mine.
I don't think that men -- in my culture, at this moment in time -- labor under the same weight of expectation (as do women) that they should privilege serving others over doing something for themselves. I don't think it's as hard for men as it is for women -- again, in my culture, at this moment; I'm not trying to speak in universals -- to claim time for themselves, space for themselves. I don't think men are taught to feel the same kind of shame when they have desires for pleasure or for joy. (Why hello there, A Room of One's Own! And okay, I recognize that when Woolf wrote that in 1929, she was talking about ensuring that women had the fiscal space to create art, not just the emotional and personal space, but I think the two are intertwined.)
Of course there are men who struggle to find, or create, space for art; to find, or create, a sense that they have permission to focus on themselves for a little while instead of on the dishes or the baby or the obligations. And in my opinion, when men push back against those pressures, that's a feminist act too. If we lived in a world in which all of us felt able to value our own joy, our own pleasure, that would be a wonderful thing. May it come speedily and soon.
I'm not saying that everyone who pursues her own joy necessarily sees that as a feminist act, nor that everyone in fandom is necessarily (or necessarily ought to be) a feminist. What I'm saying is, when I make the active choice to pursue my own joy, I understand that choice as an expression of my feminism. To me, the notion that joy and pleasure matter -- specifically that a woman's joy and pleasure matter -- is a feminist notion.
And joy and pleasure do matter. No life should be without them. Joy and pleasure aren't (in my worldview) something one needs to "deserve" or earn; they're something everyone should have. I'm not sure whether this stance comes more out of my feminism or out of my religious tradition, but it's among my core values. For me, being in fandom is largely about trying to create space for more joy.
The fact that I understand fandom in this way reveals all kinds of privilege in my invisible backpack, which gives me the luxury of being able to think about fandom and about my participation in fandom in these pleasure-centric terms. I know that sometimes the fannish things with which I fall in love, the shows or characters or pairings in which I become so deeply and joyfully invested, are problematic. And often fandom's response to those source texts is problematic too. (Such as, e.g., when an ensemble show gives us two white guys and two characters of color, and slash fandom-at-large, me included, falls in love with the two white guys, giving the characters of color short shrift.)
I don't have good answers to that systemic dilemma. I tend to think in terms of "it's not incumbent upon you to finish the task, but neither are you free to refrain from beginning it." (Pirkei Avot.) It's not up to any one of us to solve a systemic problem like that one -- but it's also not okay to just shrug and ignore what's broken in our culture and in the world we share.
My tendency is to look for answers which involve creating more, not less. I'm not interested in shaming anyone for what they love; I think claiming the pleasure we find in these shared imaginative worlds is struggle enough without that kind of internal policing. I'm interested in figuring out how we can broaden the scope of what we love, and how we can share more of what we love with each other. I'm interested in creating more joy.
Of course, my arguments for why pursuing joy is a feminist act are equally true of pursuing anger. Anger can be an empowering force, and a powerful one, and it's as legitimate within fandom (in relation to fannish source texts, fannish trends, fans ourselves) as it is elsewhere. For many women, reponding to the kyriarchy with anything other than anger is painful or impossible. I respect that and honor it.
But in my own fannish life, I strive toward cultivating joy rather than anger. That's my temperament; it's part of my understanding of what it means to be a person practicing my particular faith and walking my chosen spiritual path; and it's what I've learned keeps me the most healthy and the most whole. The world is full of injustice, on every level, from global inequities of resources down to which screenplays get produced. Some of us turn righteous fury and rage toward the task of making the world a better place. Others try to repair the world through other means. Right now, at least, I think my best tool for that work is joy.
Sometimes bringing joy means cooking a meal for someone, or coming up with an allergy-compliant brownie recipe for a birthday, or sending a postcard, or pitching in to a passed Paypal hat to help someone out of a tight spot. And sometimes it means writing Eleven/Amy/Rory fic. Which I might laughingly disclaim as self-indulgent id-fic, but -- why disclaim, actually? What's wrong with indulging myself? If writing it brings me pleasure, and sharing it with others magnifies that pleasure, then that's a good thing, not something to feel sheepish about or to hide away.
When I first became a mother, I struggled with this anew. If the baby were napping and I had the choice between doing some dishes and reading a bit of fic, I would choose the latter -- and then sometimes feel guilty about my choice (especially if my in-laws were here doing the dishes for me!) What did it say about me that I would rather read fic, or natter with friends on dw/lj/irc, than vacuum the rug? What does it say about me that when I have a bit of money to spare, I spend it on going to a con so I can connect with my community, watch vids, soak up squee, be with y'all instead of spending it on a new vacuum cleaner -- or for that matter, a donation to a worthy cause? (Okay, I try to make the donation to the worthy cause, too.)
What it says about me is that I love my friends and my community and our shared pastimes. It says that I derive tremendous joy and pleasure from hanging out with y'all (online and in person), from the stories and vids I make for you and the stories and vids you make for me. It says that I know my own needs are important. That if I don't fill up my own metaphorical tank, I don't have the juice to care for anyone else. That I aspire to keep myself connected with people I love and with the activities we share. It says that I know my pleasure and my joy matter, even though my world is filled with subtle and pervasive messages which argue otherwise.
That's the biggest gift fandom has given me. A deeper and more nuanced understanding of the stories, the tropes, the characters, the visuals, the ideas which bring me joy... and a community of others with whom to share said stories, tropes, characters, visuals, ideas, and the joy which arises out of them. And maybe the best part is, this is a well which need never run dry. There will never be an end to stories we can tell, variations on our chosen themes, conversations we can have.
Fandom is, at its best, a kind of perpetual motion joy machine. And fandom has given me the ability to connect with that perpetual joy, and the chutzpah to stand up and say, I deserve this. We all deserve this. One of the tiny ways in which I can make the world a happier place is through making things and sharing them with people who might enjoy them too. Because -- in my experience, ymmv -- that's what fans do. We make joy for and with each other. I hope we never stop.
![[identity profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-09 03:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-09 04:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-09 06:35 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-09 06:43 pm (UTC)my refusal to give up the things that bring me joy despite a culture that tells me that I should both generally as a "grown-up," specifically as a woman, and even more specifically as a mother
Yes, this! It shouldn't be a radical notion, and yet I think for a lot of us, it really feels that way.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-10 12:09 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-10 12:16 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-10 02:53 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-10 11:58 am (UTC)Yes! This is my experience, too. \o/
And I like your point that unpacking privilege is part of the community endeavour. Yes, absolutely.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-10 12:41 pm (UTC)This is an awesome post, and full of joy, thank you! I love being a part of something that shares joy, and makes the world a happier place in small increments.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-10 01:02 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-10 04:20 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-10 04:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-15 02:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-15 04:23 pm (UTC)Oh, me too! *wry grin* I think it's pretty inevitable. But yes, I too try to live up to the best of what I think fandom can be, and live up to the best of what I can be when fandom inspires and moves me. <3
(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-18 02:02 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-08-01 07:15 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2013-01-16 11:14 pm (UTC)My husband, bless him, encourages me to go to cons and fandom gatherings because he loves how happy and relaxed and revitalized I am when I get home. If we can't fill and recharge our own happiness, then how can we spread it to others?
(no subject)
Date: 2013-01-16 11:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2013-01-29 01:44 am (UTC)Does this make sense? I might be rambling. My point was, though—to be concise: thank you for such a well-written piece!
(no subject)
Date: 2013-01-29 02:40 am (UTC)I'm so glad you're back in fandom, and so glad it's bringing you joy. That matters SO MUCH. \o/
(no subject)
Date: 2013-01-29 02:44 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-06-08 08:57 pm (UTC)I am not certain if my culture (European) has the same expectations of women to this extent (or maybe I haven't felt them enough yet, having no children) but I get where you are coming from.
ETA: I specifically made this icon to express what I feel when I am in fandom (and I love Ten for his boundless joy and enthusiasm) - so it's really very appropriate for this post. :-)
(no subject)
Date: 2014-06-09 11:07 am (UTC)And your Ten icon is awesome. ♥
(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-09 03:54 pm (UTC)Also, I wonder how being a Jew and a mother plays into/against expectations for a "Jewish mother" who, of course, Can Sit in the Dark.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-09 04:20 pm (UTC)And hee -- I hadn't considered the extent to which, being both a Jew and a mother, I am therefore a Jewish Mother (tm). I think I do my best to subvert the stereotypes of what "Jewish mother" means in American pop culture. Hm. That might spark another essay one of these days. ;-)
(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-09 04:59 pm (UTC)EEEEE this this this this yay. Ahem. I had never thought of it in those terms; I tended to see it in quasi-religious ones instead, merging the pleasure I get from thinking hard with the pleasure I get from escape into another world, as well as other types of joy. Thank you for offering this way to think of it!
(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-09 05:09 pm (UTC)And I would love to hear more about the quasi-religious terms in which you think about this stuff, if you are ever so inclined.
*hug*
(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-23 02:38 pm (UTC)...The broad panentheism that I subscribe to (which is made relatable by a kind of pragmatic polytheism) includes the hope that all things are ultimately connected, all things are ultimately and intimately tied together. That the experiences of life are never lost, only shared and broadened--good and bad ones, painful and joyful. The pursuit of joy for one is a tiny spark of joy added to the whole. That counts whether it's the enjoyment of a good cup of coffee, the bittersweet drawing of love out of pain, the pride of accomplishment, the squee of riding along with an exciting story, the exhilaration of a rollercoaster, or the shudder of orgasm.
Pursuing joy is good because...because it's good. It may be tautology, but adding to the joyful experience of a universe coming to know itself is a good act, not a selfish one. And perhaps the clearest indication that one is on a right path is that this path brings joy.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-09 11:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-09 11:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-10 02:13 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-10 11:58 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-11 01:33 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-18 11:14 pm (UTC)