Sunday, April 3, 2011
Working Class Melodrama: the Fulfilling of a Wish Fulfilled?
Of course, Ross discusses other methods of studying receptivity. To do so, he extends his notion of audience to include "not just ticketholders sitting in movie houses, but people outside the theater who reacted strongly to what was shown on the screen: capitalists, censors, police, government officials, union and radical leaders, and the rank-and-file members of their organization" (107). I think that this is a smart move on Ross's part in order to more fully measure a film's impact not just on an individual viewer--which would be in most cases impossible--but on a culture as a whole. One part of his analysis, though, that might not quite translate to a contemporary audience is his discussion of melodrama as the major mode informing the plots of radical working class films. He claims that the employment of melodrama by working class radical filmmakers showed that it "was not inherently bourgeois or individualist" but, quoting Robert Lang, "'a drama of identity, of protest, of wish-fulfillment,' that contained 'both progressive and reactionary impulses'" (100). It's hard, at least for a contemporary reader like myself, to reconcile working class film as melodramatic wish fulfillment with actual labor activity. In other words, in a Brechtian sense, if the wish of a working class audience is fulfilled by a film, do they need to actually enact the fulfillment of the wish in reality? Or is this just the criticism of a jaded contemporary viewer, who tends to see inauthenticity in any clear cut, good vs. bad plot line?
The Movie-Going Public Sphere - Jennifer
Marx-ist Humor
“Groucho: You know what an auction is, don’t you?” “Chico: Sure, I come from Italy on the Atlantic auction,” (The Cocoanuts). The Marx Brothers are arguably one of the most famous and beloved comedy teams in history. They were ingenious in their combination of witty wordplay and lowbrow slapstick comedy, beginning their career in vaudeville and eventually taking over Broadway and Hollywood. Though popular in the decades after the period discussed in Ross’ book, Working-Class Hollywood, I believe the Marx Brothers are a prime example of the amalgam of ethnic and working-class experiences to create a brand of comedy that transcended class barriers.
Ross writes: “the widespread popularity of movies helped to break down long standing patterns of ethnic isolation among immigrant groups.” (21) Ross also goes on to say, “Many of the first ‘movie stars’-Charlie Chaplin, Mary Pickford, etc.-came from working-class backgrounds and began their careers by making films that related to the lives and fantasies of working-class audiences.” (44) As first-generation New Yorkers, the Marx Brothers were able to collect material from the diverse world in which they lived. “Fresh off the boat” immigrants, gangsters, gamblers, and intelligentsia – these were all people that the brothers would come into contact with throughout their lives.
There is evidence of binaries that can be attributed to life in New York: most importantly, “insider vs. outsider” is visible in their work. The emotive existence of “outsiders” gives special significance to their experience as the children of Jewish immigrants and the diversity of New York City would go on to greatly affect their mode of comedic performance. For example, the Cocoanuts quotation above utilizes the incongruence of Chico’s status as an “ignorant immigrant” to grain humor from his misunderstanding. In addition, the brothers often used Margaret Dumont’s rich upper-class society woman as the foil for their lower-class immigrant “other.” In Animal Crackers, he asks both Mrs. Rittenhouse (Dumont) and another New York socialite to marry him (at the same time). As he proposes to both of them, he says, “why you’ve both got charm, beauty, money – you have got money haven’t you? Because if you haven’t, we can quit right now,” (Animal Crackers).
The Marx Brothers gained popularity during a time of transition in the United States: World War One was sinking into the past, the Roaring Twenties were a joyous part of the present, and the Great Depression loomed in the future. They took this unique moment in time to take the New York City experiences they had shared and bring them to national audiences, allowing others, whether outsiders or not, to feel included in the mirth of the motion picture form. The city allowed them to cross cultural lines and thus, transcend the Jewish restrictions given to them in this time period. Groucho was able to wobble his way up the social ladder while zinging Margaret Dumont and letting her fall, just a little bit. Chico and Harpo gave immigrant humor a voice and together, they broke down some social barriers using one simple tool – laughter.
Monday, March 28, 2011
A Place to Hang Your Hat
According to Nan Enstad’s Ladies of Labor, commodities offered women an empowering “new range of representations, symbols, activities, and spaces with which to create class gender and ethnic identities.” Enstad attempts to disprove that a coherent subject is at the root of political action. Constantly citing Judith Butler, she argues that identity categories are necessarily based on exclusions that carry an inherent tyranny; for, “labels shape identities and experiences” – in the case of Enstad’s study, those oppressive classifications are “worker” and “woman.”
The attack on women’s popular culture activities by privileging representations of the “rational,” “serious girl striker” (both during the 19th century and in our modern historical narratives) undermines the critical process of shaping the female worker identity. “Working women’s version of ladyhood differed greatly from middle-class ideals: it challenged middle-class perceptions of labor as degrading to femininity and created a utopian language or entitlement rooted in workplace experiences.” Likewise, “Their style was not an imitation of middle class identity but an appropriation of a valued set of codes.” Through ready-made evening gowns, silk underwear, and “Peg O’ the Movies” the working-class women stood outside the dominant middle-class discourse of film and fashion and part-took in a culture of inherent resistance.
Liberal critic Thomas Frank has drawn a parallel between the emerging consensus of the 1980s “New Economy” and the widespread acceptance of commodity consumption as a means of asserting agency. Frank is dumbfounded by the absence of analysis of American business culture (the defining landscape of the 1990s), never mind dissent from the academy regarding corporate interests. He satirically writes, “Cultural Studies was teeming with stories of aesthetic hierarchies rudely overturned; with subversive mallwalkers dauntlessly using up the mall’s air-conditioning.” By casting the caricature of the “elitists” critic (unhappy with the shift toward cultural democracy, desperately clinging to the mass culture critique) as the villain, “cult studs” got in line with the myriad of journalists, politicians, and media monguls relentlessly celebrating the revolutionary power of popular culture. Cultural studies trademark language of audience agency and subversive text mirrored all too perfectly the anti-elitist, anti-hierarchical rhetoric pouring forth from the conservative populist movement and boardrooms alike. Ultimately, Thomas Frank charges the “cult studs” academic radicalism with being an indistinguishable hegemonic function of the market.
Of course, Frank is driven by the question that has motivated many of the cultural critics we have looked at this semester: What is the best way to subvert the system? How can we overturn unjust capitalism? This is where I see Enstand’s critique diverge. Her work is not propelled by the proposition of a radical new order. She represents a history of how a group achieves some freedom, some decency, and a place to hang their hats within the existing system. In this way, citing the desire for silk underwear as a distinct political act, a form of agency that operates outside bourgeois epistemology, mirrors the theoretical foundation and implicit ambition of Enstad’s project. “Thus silk underwear signaled the invisible interior ladyhood, similar to that promised by the dime novels, to which working women laid claim”(82). Enstad successfully marries politics and culture because of the way she defines political action. Acute policy change, a shifting of the cultural terrain to the interests of an oppressed group, dignity through identity formation, these are significant forms of political action to Enstad, and it seems that an investment in this kind of political action is best expressed through Cultural Studies.
Other thoughts:
-Veblen, can imitation can be radical?
-Ironically, Enstad priviledges a distinct female working class narrative. For example, in New York City at the end of the Civil War there were upwards of six hundred brothels. In 1846 a police source estimated the number of prostitutes in New York City to be 7,000 (10% of young females) while an alderman and minster source estimated the number to be 20,000 (28% of young girls). Regardless of the exact figure, these staggering official approximations indicate prostitution’s unavoidable physical and social presence. In 1855 tailor shops had the highest cash value, $7,592,696, of manufactured articles/goods in New York City. Tailor shops were followed by prostitution which brought in an estimated $6,350,760 in 1855. While prostitution did not involve the production of goods, it became a highly visible and exceptionally lucrative business.
Why is prostitution so clearly excluded from a historical narrative to which is belongs (even on page 28 the citation of the “Bowery Ghals” speaks to the significant presence of the brothel culture).
- Funny to see one of T.S. Eliots most significant arguments regarding culture, “cultural consumption without taste will lead to moral fall,” was originally championed by the indistinct body of middle class women.
-Dime novels about working class girl marrying millionaires, etc. seriously discredits Langland’s argument.
Working Class People as People
As I was reading Race Rebels, I was struck by the fact that it seems as though the author grew up in working class conditions, although I couldn't verify it. This seems important because he understands working class conditions because he lived them. As I was reading the introduction I was struck by this paragraph: