Since perversity has such a hostile reputation, I find it difficult to even explore it in myself. But I wrestle with this difficulty. If I keep the expression of my perversion limited to written intrusion, perhaps disgust the readers, perhaps relieve them of their own perversions, then their quarrel with what I say remains their responsibility and mess. If I expressed my perversion by invading them without permission, which can happen both physically and otherwise, I am censurable. But through the act of reading a reader, or more exactly my reader, consents to the pervasion of my perversion.
Still, I admit attraction both to what I think other people find perverse and to what I find perverse. That attraction is not as interesting as I let myself believe it is. I need this crisis: am I too grotesque, am I unlovable? I seek out ways, often only with distant conscientiousness, to fundamentally separate myself from other people. If I am perverse, and perversion is unacceptable, I form and perpetuate a conception of myself as hopelessly alone. This is a guard, a mechanism, so that when feeling down, in those evaluations of why this state of being, why this frame of mind, I’ve already provided myself a shoddily hidden answer, which is that the problem is me. I’m different, and what better defense against vulnerability is there but to claim innate unlikeness?
All this sparked by a post I deleted, which may or may not have been seen, that asked the reader to identify with one of two sentences, the first of which pair was "I have raped myself or I have not raped myself." I shuddered, oh I've crossed a line, fuck. Wrong setting, dear, this is for class!
That question is not trivial, at least to me, because (here I'll go head and say it) I think I have raped myself in a multitude of ways. One simple example is trying to masturbate, coming to the conclusion that I don't want to, telling myself I should do it and I need to do it, saying to myself No No I don't want to (the explicit no rebukes consent), dismissing that no with a Too Bad. But the more sinister instances include abusing myself psychologically, humiliating myself in front of myself, forcing myself to submit to a forfeit of all self-esteem, for the purpose of punishment, to get off on being cruel.
Have you read Poe's short story, "The Imp of the Perverse?"
ReplyDeleteOr anything David Foster Wallace wrote.
Like the Poe story, the initial expository portion of the essay becomes concrete in the second half, and the emotional intensity increases up until the last sentence, which also served as a moment where your behavior reflected the things that you talked about in the first paragraph.
It's engaging, strong, and got me reading right through the end.
I love this, and part of your other piece where you said, "... I am sure my flaws are not unique... though my ego inclines me to believe so..." and "There is a certain vocabulary... used as a device to ostracize the question and the person asking it, not only for asking it but also for thinking it. It includes words like gross, wrong, unnatural (ha!), perverted, sick, evil, and so forth."
ReplyDeleteHaving read these, I feel less ashamed of my own perversions and more ashamed of times I criticized other people's perversions.
You mention a blog post you have deleted with the line: "I may or may not have raped myself," and unfortunately, I must have missed that specific post if indeed there was one. However, I found myself most intrigued by this phantom post and idea of perversion in this piece; I (being raised a Catholic boy) can relate to the inner struggles of learning how to masturbate (you'll go straight to hell; God'll kill a kitten, etc.) and found myself very interesting in what you had to say about that rather than what you had to say about saying that, if that makes any sense. But your writing and voice are very strong in this piece.
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