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Frank Wynne, Virginie Despentes: King Kong Theory (Paperback, FSG Originals) 4 stars

Out of print in the U.S. for far too long, writer and filmmaker Virginie Despentes’s …

French punches

4 stars

King Kong Theory straddles across genres, mixing autobiographic sketches, essay-like reflections, and what one could describe as 'lyrical tirades'. I found it a compelling and fast read, that exudes anger and frustration, but also, at some level, a love for life and pleasure. Sexual pleasure, but also writing pleasure, as it is hard not to visualise her banging away on her keyboard, to the sound of 1990s punk classics.

Despentes main themes are the patriarchal system in which we all live, and the ways this shapes and is shaped by rape, prostitution and the porn industry.

Her argument about rape comes from personal experience with the arguably most shocking and less common form of rape, at the hands of complete strangers while hitchhiking. Despentes is interested in pushing back against the shared sentiment that this is the absolute worst thing that can happen to a woman, and that it is or should be life-defining. She goes as far as to refer, approvingly, to Camille Paglia, the bête noire of progressive third-wave feminism, and Paglia's understanding of rape, and the constant risk thereof, as an integral part of womanhood. She also argues (persuasively) that victims of rape are supposed to be eternally devastated by the event, but in a passive kind of way, as the idea that they could band up and take revenge violently (or even just make a film where this is what happens) is scandalous.

The second part of the book turns to prostitution and the porn industry. Somewhat similarly, she argues that, as a society, we should focus less on the tragedy that befalls on the women who undergo these experiences (itself a way to discipline what women are allowed to do), and more on the structural conditions that make these industry so dangerous for workers.

Perhaps one of the most interesting and controversial aspects of the book is how Despentes apportions responsibility and guilt on different groups. On the whole, she is rather sympathetic to men, who she also sees as victims of the patriarchy, and rather harsh on middle-class 'respectable' women, who she sees as the main culprits for the politics of respectability that stigmatizes prostitution and porn:

'It's hard not to feel that what respectable women aren't saying, when they're concerning themselves with what happens to whores, is that ultimately they fear the competition. If the prostitute practised her trade in decent conditions, like a beautician or a psychiatrist – if her activities were released from all the legal pressures they're currently under – then the position of the married woman would become suddenly less attractive. Because if the prostitute's contract becomes normalised, the marital contract can be seen more clearly for what it is: a transaction where women commit to carrying out a number of duties guaranteeing a man's comfort at unbeatable rates. Notably sexual tasks'.

One the one hand, I'm drawn to a feminism that looks for alliances across gender and places class at the centre of its politics, but on the other, I also think this is a very reductive view of conventional family structures, and is possibly itself a little sexist. But yes, I do get it, this is a feminist punk manifesto, and needs to punch. And punch it does!