Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Fire's Queer Diasporic Positionality

In her essay “ Local Sites/Global Contexts: The Transnational Trajectories of Deepa Mehta's Fire,” Gayatri Gopinath utilizes Mehta’s film as a context to begin illustrating some of the complexities inherent to cultural forms that delve into both queer and diasporic sensibilities. Gopinath uses a “queer diasporic positionality” to disrupt particular and essentialized identities of both nationalism and diaspora. She suggests that it is the fluidity of gender and sexuality, in addition to the elastic relationship between nation and diaspora, that prevent the legitimacy of hegemonic discourses.

In defining “queer diasporic positionality,” Gopiath first notes that sexuality and the contexts within which individuals are placed and subjected into particular constructions are based not in one-dimensional values but rather in “transnational flows of culture, capital, bodies, desire, and labor” (150). Gopiath also defines queer diaspora as a contestation of everything within the hegemony of patriarchal heteronormative nationalism of India and Hinduism, while also contesting normative narratives of queerness that are set against and localized exclusively to “both normative Indian contexts and homonormative white Eruo-American contexts” (151).

One of the most thought-provoking discussions Gopiath introduces is how “the attraction between Radha and Sita is enabled by [the] spaces of female homosociality that are sanctioned by normative sexual and gender arrangements” (155). She talks about how the construction of responsibility and duty for Indian wives is inherently queered and allows for particular desires to manifest and thrive within the very system that, in theory, supports patriarchal heteronormativity. It is these relationship that transgress normative understanding not only of queerness but also of geography as these traditions, customs, and systems are then established as mobile between nation and diaspora.

Gopinath also puts the film into a conversation with a falsified paradigm of modernity that has been tied to a particularly Western conceptualization of gender and sexuality. She talks specifically about film critics in the United States that have articulated the film’s queer content as beyond the capacities of understanding for Hindu cultures, noting the scene when Radha says, “There is no word in our language to describe what we are to each other,” placing Hinduism as underdeveloped within the hierarchy of modernity. Furthermore, Gopiath then suggests that, by doing so, these critics place inherent “modern,” Western values and associations to a queer identity, that by subverting their Hindu culture and traditions, Sita and Radha are the ultimate in Indian modernity while also ignoring other queer identities that may not have had the agency to be voiced.

By constructing such frameworks that incorporate queer and diaspora into established ideals of nationalism and patriarchal heteronormativity, Gopiath not only perceives Fire through critical analysis but also reprimands mainstream media - both in India and in the Euro-centric United States - and the extremist Hindu nationalists that protested the film. She does so by deconstructing the assertion that the film, and other instances of queer diasporic visual culture, are inauthentic. She uses queer diaspora positionality to simultaneously prove agency for such context and sensibility and also critique the hegemonic ideologies that are constantly working to silence the existence and struggles of non-normative lived experiences, in this case for a lesbian relationship in contemporary New Delhi.

Here is Roger Ebert’s review of the film that paints a much fuller portrait of Gopiath’s understanding of “queer diasporic positionality” as it relates to homonormative white Euro-American contexts.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Fire and the "Queer Diaspora"

Gopinath discusses the term “queer diasporic positionality,” stating that it “contests the logic that that situates the terms “queer” and “diaspora” as dependant on the originality and authenticity of “heterosexuality” and “nation,” and that “it marks a different economy of desire that escapes legibility within both normative Indian contexts and homo-normative white Euro-American contexts.” Her exploration of the term itself it a bit confusing to me; however, my interpretation is this. The very terms “heterosexuality” and “nation” are often viewed as “places” from which people, behaviors, and nation hoods derive themselves from. This is heavily problematic because these terms themselves are societal constructions. They serve to validate the “normalcy” of heterosexuality and the idea of belonging to a “race/nation.” They serve to make inherent the idea that existing in a Diaspora community or having same sex desire is inherently different and wrong. She argues that queer and Diaspora are dependent on one another because queer sexuality does not know a “nation” or place of origin. She makes the point that the queer diaspora has a position as such that it cannot be defined by either the Indian culture, or through our legibility and interpretation of it as white Euro-Americans.
I fully agree with her presentation of this term, or at least so far as I understand it, and have hopefully correctly interpreted it. I find that two examples stick out to me in the film Fire that support her definition if this term, the first being the concept of the very film itself. The idea that homosexuality can take place within the realm of the conservative Indian household proved to be very upsetting at the films relase. It was banned and caused a large amount of controversy. The story itself was something that needed to be “told” through film in order for it to be “seen” and awareness and visibility for this kind of relationship to be raised. This references the concept that the very idea of the relationship was not legible and expressable through the Indian culture or language, and that white Euro-Ameriucans also could not define or interpret the relationship between the two women in the film. Sita even remarks in the film to Radha that “we don’t have a word in our language for what we are.” Secondly, I agree with the idea that the terms “queer” and “diaspora” can not be separated. The very idea that queerness can be constrained into a “nation” or place of origin is preposterous. Queerness itself is a term referring to sexuality and to make the assertion that it is derived from a certain location instead of a sexual desire residing with all culture and “nations” is ignorant at best. Lastly, the idea of the queer diaspora “disorganizes the dominant categories within the united States for sexual variance, namely ‘gay and lesbian’.” The film challenges the binary gender and homosexual gender constructions outlined and often imposed, if no other reason than ignorance, as the only homosexual definitions that exist. What was occurring between Sita and Radha is not a relationship that can be defined by either lesbian or gay, let alone through euro-american legibility. All of the terms discount and ignore the many complex layers to the women’s interactions and their own sexualities.
The following is a link to an interview with the director of Fire, Deepa Mehta
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jpyFmmwxcUM

Queer Diaspora & Fire

In the film ‘Fire” by Deepah Menta, there are recurring themes such as queer diaspora and queer inauthenticity that are mentioned and analyzed with various film elements and techniques throughout the entirety of the film. In the article, “Local Sites/Global Contexts: The Transnational Trajectories of Deepa Mehta’s Fire,” by Gayatri Gopinath, she analyses queer desire, diaspora and inauthenticity in the film. She has a very important term that is thoroughly used throughout the article that makes the film a bit more clear to understand. Queer diasporic positionality, her main point, refers to the three ways it functions in the film: first, analyzes sexual subjectivity in terms of culture, capital, bodies, desire and labor, second, the word queer completely denounces any dependence on heteronormative words, and third, it opens up a broad spectrum of sexuality and gender based on sexuality and pushes past categories in the US (Gopinath 150). The film is further analyzed in these very up front topics that break down the irony of the film.
Throughout the film there is a very intense blockade through which heteronormativity has tunnel vision about what is queer and what is “God’s way” and how they both can’t correlate with one another. There are many times in which the older man in the film talks about God’s way and how desire can take you places that you'd rather not go. And there is a particular time in which Ratha speaks up about how she believes she is being selfish in putting the family at stake for her own passion and love. The way the film portrays their discovery of sexuality and love gives way to the belief that the queer group is a diaspora kept away from society. This gives way to the notion that homosexuality is seen as unpure. Perhaps it is also the notion that homosexuality is seen as inauthentic because of its refusal to conform to the norms of heterosexuality. This relates to the first and second functions of queer diasporic positionality: desire in terms of sexual subjectivity. In this context of the film, there is a constant criticism of desire when it comes to the two women. This reminds me of a part in the movie in which Cita’s husband tells her she can go, but warns that divorced women have tough lives. He is subjecting her to a particular lifestyle because of her desire and/or option to be free.
Another very interesting attribute that the movie makes throughout the entirety of the film is a constant visual of a reflection in the many mirrors and the bright light of the windows around the house. I believe that the mirror suggests a reflection they'd rather see, or something they'd rather be that they couldn’t seem to achieve. For example, when Ratha and Cita kiss for the first time, Ratha goes into the bathroom and touches her lips in the mirror right next to a very bright window. The window, I believe, suggests a certain freedom the women don’t have. The closed windows also suggest something like a prison keeping the women in confinement. These two themes could be directly correlated with their sexual subjectivity.
Something that I also found very interesting was when the two women would be seen together out in public as very “close” friends, and nothing was said or assumed of them. This is a very close culture that deteriorates this uncomfortable feeling when people of the same-sex are very close with one another. I noticed that when the eldest man, was caressing and massaging the feet of the older man, nobody found it rare, yet it was very polite and respectful while to me it bordered on homoerotic. Many things are deemed unacceptable, yet continue to be allowed in a country in which homosexuality is deemed as something unpure and unacceptable. Who makes these rules? And a bigger question, who abides by them?

I have added a video of a film I recently watched with a similar plot to Fire. This film was called, "I Can't Think Straight."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1W8igqK_QWU

Smoke Signals: Visibility Politics in Deepa Mehta's Fire and the films of Monica Enriquez-Enriquez

Gayatri Gopinth’s essay, “The Transnational Trajectories of Deepa Mehta’s Fire”, proposes that Mehta’s movie, Fire, issues a challenge of Euro-American visibility politics for its complicity in colonialism and racist visualities. In reviewing the film, I believe that it does, indeed, offer up alternatives to the traditional narrative of visibility required in Euro-American societies; a mandatory, teleological “coming out” narrative which generally begins within the private (re: domestic) sphere, and gradually works its way into the public arena, resulting in a visible, often sexual, subjectivity labeled “gay” or “lesbian”. The question of who becomes “visible” is directly related those in power that establish and/or define what constitutes “visibility” in a particular society; as such, the politics of visibility carry the weight of racist, colonialist societies into this definition- just as they do into any political decision they make, law they pass, or custom they design and enforce. The obvious danger in such a situation is the very real chance that, unless you practice the carefully delineated role/narrative/identity recognized as “visible” in a particular society, you run the risk of becoming altogether invisible- a sort of non-entity in the eyes of either the law, society- or both.

In Fire, there is evidence of a challenge to such a required narrative. Although the relationship between Radha and Sita does begin in the domestic sphere, this is due to the centrality of that sphere to their lives as women in a joint household in New Delhi, as opposed to following the traditional, required narrative. What Euro-American visibility politics would take as an extremely oppressive existence that renders the women nearly invisible to the outside world, however, the women utilize to their advantage. This shielded existence provides the women more opportunities to explore their growing feelings for each other, and to bond and enjoy the physical and emotional closeness this traditionally homosocial space affords them away from questions, accusations, and (most) prying eyes. Traditions that are viewed with scorn by some of the film’s more “modern” characters (such as Sita’s husband) become a safe haven for a developing, but officially nonexistent, love; when it eventually becomes “known”, and the women are caught in the act of lovemaking, Sita herself acknowledges their predicament: “It is better this way- to see. There is no word to describe [what we are]…seeing is less complicated.” With this statement (and Radha’s agreement), the women acknowledge their relationship’s “in”-visibility to the outside world, and the system which leads to it being so.

The same type of systemic denial of visibility is at work in the art of Monica Enriquez-Enriquez, who documents the stories of immigrants in the United States for what she terms “community art”. What is interesting about Monica’s work is the fact that most of the interviews she conducts for her films - if not all- are with immigrants either in the country “illegally”, or with those who are awaiting asylum. As such, they are “undocumented”, and thus do not exist as “citizens”. The same troubling issues apply to these bodies as those discussed above- including, but not limited to, questions of who has the authority to declare a human being “visible” vis-à-vis citizenship and/or other societal recognition. Often, this recognition is the difference between being able to live (via work papers, the right to occupy public spaces, and public benefits like healthcare and food stamps, to name a few) and trying to merely survive in a society that is not necessarily very nice to people who don’t “follow the rules”. In postcolonial societies- such as India and the United States- this visibility often has a lot to do with who your parents were, and what you look like. The more you resemble an “appropriate” citizen (usually, this means resembling those in charge), and follow their “narratives”, the more chance you have at becoming visible.

What Monica and Mehta both illustrate is that these narratives are inherently classed, raced, gendered, and are known only to very particular “national/cultural” groups, as well. In Asilo Queer, Monica is shown naked, faceless, with words written all over her body. While the words are in English- the language she must make her asylum appeal in- her narration is a seamless mix of her native Spanish and the newly acquired- and required- English. She references the impossibility of “translating herself”, and the continued demands of her newfound “home” that she do so in order to become visible as a citizen. This is a particularly common, and difficult, portion of the asylum process for those fleeing persecution due to their “sexual orientation”, and Monica’s work captures many such stories. These men and women, fleeing one culture to take shelter in another, find themselves faced with the same conundrum as the women of Fire: If they do not follow the narratives proscribed by an alien culture and judicial system, they will not be officially “visible” to that system. Since the expected narrative that leads to visibility is merely one possible narrative among many, and representative of one particular society’s idea of what constitutes said visibility, what happens to the Radhas, the Sitas and the Monicas of this world, who come from cultures in which such narratives simply don’t exist? It is work like Mehta’s and Monica’s that addresses the violences that are the result of just such situations- and the subversive potential that lies within them, as well.

I included the below montage of Mehta’s “Elements” trilogy from YouTube, as I found it interesting how these three films, and their characters, were interpreted and made visible for worldwide viewers who may or may not have seen the films. It is interesting, to me, to consider the reading we did- and the international uproar over the films- in light of the possible ways people are exposed to the films themselves.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZATO-5WMklo&feature=related (Mehta trilogy montage)

Queering Expectations, Making Space for Desire

The film Fire teems with a frame in which sexuality and nationalism are brought into inevitable and controversial conversation. In her article, “Local Sites/Global Contexts: The Transnational Trajectories of Deepa Mehta’s Fire” Gayatri Gopinath discusses the framework of the “queer diasporic positionality” that thrives with agency in the plot of the film. The author uses this conflation of words to refer to how queerness is situated among the hegemonic and nationalist imagination, and seeks to question the impurity and lack of authenticity associated with which non-heterosexual expressions are associated (150). Queerness acts as a de-stabilizer of certain political, economic, and religious structures as born through the gendered and sexualized nationalist discourses (150). This concept also acts to situate sexuality as a marker of corporeal subjectivity and consider its role “within transnational flows of culture, capital, bodies, desire, and labor” (150). It questions the normativity of “heterosexuality” and “nation,” while simultaneously seeking to reopen the borders of conceptualization within the aforementioned economies (151). By employing the lens of the queer diaspora in the analysis of film, new spaces for questioning cultural productions are opened and embraced.

One such film apt for analysis through this lens is Deepa Mehta’s Fire. Critical analysis of this film is particularly intriguing through the lens of the queer diaspora, and this is evidenced throughout the challenges to various normalized socio-cultural practices that are posed by certain relationships and dialogues that ensue between characters. Sita is cognizant of the social constraints that bind her movements, and she does not hesitate to be outspoken about this. In one scene, after Sita unexpectedly kissed Radha, the two women sit at the table in the kitchen to share a meal. They had not yet discussed the kiss that neither woman could forget, and the leftover tension still simmered between them. Sita says, “Isn’t it funny, we’re so bound by traditions and rituals…someone just has to push my buttons and I respond like a trained monkey.” In saying this, Sita is forwardly questioning the cultural dynamics binding both women to their circumstances.

Though Sita’s questioning of her surrounding cultural and social boundaries persists throughout the length of film. Happily dancing to music in her husbands clothes, breaking a fast without his blessing, and beginning a relationship with her sister in law are all active evidences of her discomfort with the patriarchal norms that govern her reality. Looming between a space of desire and expectation, Sita initially navigates this space leaning toward the latter. In the beginning of the film, while on a honeymoon with her husband Jitam, Sita appears to desire his affection. She asks about his tastes in movies and asks if he likes her, to which he offers a cold response. Soon, Sita learns that her expectations are leaving her unfulfilled in numerous. By fulfilling her expectations as a wife, she is left sexually unsatisfied, disrespected, emotionally discontented, cheated on, and undesired by her husband. She derives great pleasure, however, when she acts upon her true desires, despite their displacement within the frame of cultural expectations. By creating her own space within the queer diaspora, she is able to freely explore new aspects of her own desires, apart from the boundaries set upon her. Within her culture, there is no space for breaking the expectations of a dutiful wife. However, flashbacks to a moment of her childhood in which she was overcome with a desire to see the ocean remind Sita that, “what you can’t see, you can see, you just have to see without looking.” Before their first kiss, Sita and Radha share a similar conversation on the balcony that alludes to the cultivation of a new space in which to exercise their desires. Calling upon the ocean as a metaphoric representative for their desire, such is invisible, but can ultimately blooms with the potential to be seen and created.

Such imaginative practices are not necessary for the men who live through their desires, as there is a cultural space in which they can be exercised. In her article, Gobinath points out that queer female desires are silenced, while men in the family have a place to access pleasure and fantasy that drift from their heterosexual, domestic home lives (154). While Ashok is consumed by the homosocial bonding offered through his religious practices, Jatin sells porn and frequently visits his Chinese girlfriend Julie, and Mundu masturbates to porn in front of Biji, male desire is preserved and fostered by the gender and class boundaries governing the household (155). The women, however, are denied access to such economies of desire, and are left to witness the pleasures exercised by men (155). The severity of these structures of patriarchal desire and heteronormativity are pulled too taut, and as the seams rip, female queer desire is imagined and emerged, and through it, Sita and Radha are able to nurture their love.



Deepa Mehta offers a deeper discussion of Fire in this informative interview. Fire is part of Metha's "Elements Trilogy," that also includes Earth (1998) and Water (2005). I encourage you to check out the interview as well as the trailers for Mehta's other two films in her trilogy!



jeni

Queer diaspora and "Fire"

Queer diasporic positionality refers to the various levels of signification pertinent to the construction around queer migrants. Being queer and diasporic does not necessarily means that the two constructions are added up, but that identity is created within polar flanks that interlace into a self-constructed identity. For Gayatri Gopinath there are three significant levels in the queer diasporic positionality that need to be contemplated in order to have a framework of analysis for “Fire”.

The first consideration is that “the formation of sexual subjectivity within transnational flows of culture, capital, bodies, desire and labor”. (150) The first consideration presents the importance of “flow”, as transnational contexts. The mobility can easily be exemplified in “Fire”. The production, consumption and distribution of the film mark the mobility that enables the movie to speak to different audience from particular social constructions. Made by an Indian Canadian, the movie captures Indian society through the eyes of a diasporic Indian. It is because of the production that the movie “flows”, since various discourses are speaking within the move. It is not a cultural shock like the one presented in “Persepolis” where the character leaves the country to be an immigrant. The negotiation of identity is a self-exploration, but the fact that the director is an immigrant, using a Canadian production engage in another level of negotiation. Radha and Sita display mobile identities, and since they are not part of the hegemonic and heternormative discourse presented in the Indian society, they are too flowing into a discourse that embraces self-identification and desire as a valid form of living.

One of the main movie critiques, as Gayatri Gopinath explains, is that“ Fire interrogates the teleological Euro-American narrative according to which lesbian sexuality must emerge from a private, domestic sphere into a public, visible subjectivity.” (155) The film is westernized in the sense that it does engage and repeat the discursive construct that calls upon disclosure one’s personal identification to be considered authentic. In the end, the narrative has contact points of the western and occidental ideals, since the movie to seems to be negotiation the director identity as an Indian Canadian.

The second consideration about queer diasporic positionality is that it “contents the logic that situates the term “queer” and “diaspora” as dependent on originality and authenticity of “heterosexuality” and “nation”” (150). The problem is that the dichotomies presented in fire are not necessarily constructed around the queer/heterosexual and the national/diasporic bodies. Even though, there are certain teleological grand narratives regarding the construction of gender and nation in Indian culture. For instance, Sita’s husband says that it is difficult for him to be reconcile what he wants and what he is expected to be. This phrase is present in the film, since most of the characters are in a personal struggle between tradition and self-identification. Radha’s husband is also carrying the burden of a religious discourse that identifies desire with perdition.

National discourse confronts personal desires, leaving no space for self-identification. The national discourse constructs images that citizens are supposed to follow. Heteronormative laws are reinforced with religious teachings. For instance, the Ramadan passage of Sita having to undergo the Proof of Fire in order to validate her discourse about purity reinforces gender constructions. The following images the Trial by fire of Sita:

Trial by fire

It is interesting to notice the parallelism of the religious message and the ending (and title) of the film. Radha passed the proof of fire and survived intact since she is purely devoted to Sita.

The last consideration is disorganization of dominant categories, thus marking a different economy of desire. (150) This disorganization of dominant categories can seem to be a threat to the national discourse that reinforces heternormativity. Radha and Sita can not find a space or a word that describe the feelings they have for each other. With no words, it would seem that signification is inaccessible, but they refer to the feelings for each other as a proof. They, then, construct a new identity inaccessible to language but not to self-identification. The difference with the national discourse around Sita’s trial by fire is that Rama sends her to exile after she passed the test, and Radha and Sita are together after the first one survived the fire. Religious discourse disorganizes and by doing so, opens new possibilities of identity. Because of the flow of transnational discourse, “Fire” can connect and can be related to queer diasporic positionality.


Another representation of the Trial by Fire

Fire and Desire

In viewing Deepa Mehta's film, Fire, concepts of sexuality, gender roles,culture arose as this film took place in contemporary New Dehli in the mid 1990's (Gopinath, 169). In terms of a queer diaspora positionality, Gopinath states that this first "situates the formation of sexual subjectivity within transnational flows of culture, capital, bodies, desire, and labor" (Gopinath, 170). I'm not exactly sure what she means by this but I interpret it as the perspective of sexuality and expectations there of male and female roles are embedded in culture, capital bodies, desire, and labor. There is much importance placed on tradition in the film and Sita states that she feels like a performing monkey when it comes to culture and that their lives revolve around it. People are told not to question but only to obey in this sense, to obey in the name of your family and tradition. In terms of the film, capital bodies may refer to the roles within the business of the family as well as the determined roles of husband and wife. Radha's husband continuously states duties of husband and wife and son and so forth. There are certain expectations to be upheld and not to be questioned. These duties that Radha's husband is discussing deal greatly with desire and his battle with fighting the urges of sexual temptation since Radha is baron he feels there is no purpose to sex and must become closer to God. Radha expresses to Sita that she has not had sex for thirteen years and her Husbands apology earlier on in the film starts to make sense. Transnational flow and culture do deal with queer diaspora in that this is a national concept and places importance on culture. Gopinath then goes on to state the second function of queer diaspora in that it "contests the logic that situates the terms 'queer' and 'diaspora' as dependent on the originality and authenticity of 'heterosexuality' and 'nation'" (Gopinath, 170). This also pertains to tradition and expectations within sexuality. What makes sexuality authentic? Sita and Rahda spend much of their time on the roof, gazing out over the city, discussing their husbands, and personal stories and wishes. Sita expresses all that she wants outside of marraige and her husband expresses to his brother all of the pressure he was under to be a certain way. Sita and her husband do not share a mutually happy relationship, but they have a sort of mutual understanding in that he will be with his girlfriend who he is truly in love with even though he is married. Gopinaths statement above is reflective of the last scene with Rahda and her husband as she confesses her love and desire for Sita. This moment in the film is the most authentic Rahda ever is with her husband throughout the film. The last function stated by Gopinath on queer diaspora positionality is that "it disorganizes the dominant categories within the United States for sexual variance, namely 'gay and lesbian,' and it marks a different economy of desire that escapes legibility within both normative Indian contexts and homo normative white Euro-American contexts (Gopinath, 170). The notion of sexual variance is important here in that there are categories that receive more attention than others and this is also dependent geographically speaking. The idea of disorganization is interesting among the normative standards within a culture. In the film. Sita tells Radha that in their culture there is no name for what they are and the relationship they have. This is very blunt and straightforward in terms of the connotation the film portrays regarding Indian culture and gender norms. Deepa Mehta created large controversy within India regarding the film and attached is an interesting article regarding her latest work and response to the controversy over Fire.