I first
heard about this book by chance, catching a blurb in the paper prior to its
release. Besides the important,
obviously highly-relevant subject matter, the notice praised it for being very
well and accessibly-written. When it
came out, I requested it from the library – only problem was, there was only
one copy in the entire library system for my region, and there was already a
waiting list. Finally, though, I got my
hands on it and was able to read it.
Written
by Kate Harding, the book explores the myriad symptoms and pervasive effects of
rape culture in American society. Even
without the title, it’s no surprise to learn that one major theme is the
enduring practice of victim-blaming, grilling a survivor about what she was
wearing, what neighborhood she was in at what time of day, how much she may
have been drinking or otherwise indulging, and what “encouragement” she might
have given to her rapist. (Side
note: the book does understand and
acknowledge that women aren’t the only victims of rape, but that is where its
main focus lies – in fact, Harding points out that part of the additional
suffering for male survivors is the stigma that comes from the idea that rape
is a “women’s problem.”) And of course,
it’s noted that rape is the only crime in which the victims tend to be held so
accountable for their own violation – for example, Harding observes that
victims of robbery aren’t typically raked over the coals for owning enviable
possessions or not having a more robust security system, and there’s no
national debate over what constitutes “real
robbery.”
Harding
explores numerous aspects of the subject.
She looks at the widespread problem of overestimating the number of
false rape accusations, examining the myths that contribute to that damaging
misconception and giving an example of the complicated factors that are often
involved in the (very rare) instances when women do fabricate accusations of rape, thus adding fuel to the fire of
those who believe the majority (the majority
– that’s what some people think!) of rape accusations are completely false. Additionally, she discusses numerous rape
myths, from “she wanted it” to “it’s not rape if he didn’t use force” to the
national picture of the “stranger rapist” hiding in the bushes. That last point is an important one, because
that’s the image a lot of people have of what rape looks like, but since most
rapists are known to the victim, these actual cases don’t fit into people’s
idea of what rape is and contributes to the, “Okay, but was it rape-rape?” discussion. She also explores rape in an intersectional
context: race, LGBTQ identity (including
trans,) and economic status. Numerous
case studies are included, which are brutal and hard to read, but they’re a
sober demonstration of just how deep the myths and misperceptions run that
people can look at such heinous crimes and still doubt whether anything illegal
happened.
One of
my favorite aspects of the book is Harding’s emphasis on men’s role in helping
to combat rape culture and these destructive myths. She argues that rape myths hurt men as well. All the “she was asking for it” BS – the idea
that the man “couldn’t help himself” because of what the woman was wearing or
how she was dancing – suggests that men are little more than animals, mindless
beasts who are slaves to their libido.
Who wants to uphold the idea that they’re at such mercy to their
biological urges? She advocates teaching
girls and boys about consent and what
that looks like, rather than putting all the onus on girls to protect
themselves from being raped, because she believes that men are capable of controlling their own actions.
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