My Mental Meanderings on Art

I'm just wondering what SJWs will make of my novels?  Surely to goodness they cannot fault my protagonist in Calumny while Reading Irvine Welsh? As an aside, I will point out I've learned the title of a work of art must be italicised in an article, and the preposition is not capitalised.  Well, I kind of knew that already.  I'm calling 'preposition' on the word 'while' in this title.  My protagonist Martha is a modern day Boudiccea.  Perhaps not quite Boudiccea, but she's ballsy and shoots from the hip.  However, because she is a passionate cook this will be a manifestation of my internalised misogyny (whatever the fuck that is) because my heroine engages is what is traditionally viewed as the female role.  What will not occur to SJWs is that I made her a good cook because when writing a novel, the dictum is: Write What You Know.  I happen to be a damn fine cook myself, so therefore it was easy to write this stuff.  Also, that I've introduced a love interest who is a photographer for a men's magazine in the vein of the now-defunct Zoo Weekly is another example of my letting down the sisterhood.

Abernethy will see me facing all sorts of criticism if only because my protagonist is a male. That my titular character is a talking beagle will not distract them from the lugubrious fact I don't have many strong female characters in this book.  Billy's mother is a kind of strong character, but people will not see that.

Silver Studs & Sabre Teeth will see me being chased through the village by outraged pitchfork-and-torch laden SJWs and SWERFs because my protagonist falls in love with a woman who gives him a paid-for rub-and-tug.  The fact this novel also addresses the issues of male depression and same sex marriage will be brushed away like crumbs on the kitchen bench; 'they' will see me propagating some kind of subjugation of women.  But hey, one of my major secondary characters is the world's most accurate Marc Bolan impersonator, so surely that much count for something?

I guess I'm thinking these rather weird thoughts because people find certain works of art very offensive.  Different sectors of society will read sexism, or racism, or capitalist crushing of the masses into just about anything.  I don't care what the subject of a work of art is, as long as the work (1) 'speaks' to me, and (2) is produced by someone with a modicum of talent.

Today I was reading, and contributing to, comments on a work by Jean-Leon Gerome, a French painter in the style of academicism.  This one in particular:

Look at it.  Just look at it.  It's exquisite! I looked at it for a long time; I saw so much beauty in it.  Unfortunately, we are apparently not allowed to just enjoy works of art because they hint at racism, or enslavement.  

I was looking at some of the artist's other works, in particular his homage to the trial of Phryne.  Phryne (aka Mnesarete) was an Ancient Greek courtesan who stood trial.  I think the charges aren't clear, but they're generally considered to be Impiety.  I'm sure we don't have the crime of impiety in our criminal code, which given my sensibilities is probably just as well.  Anyway, Phryne's advocate ran this as his legal argument: someone with her beauty couldn't possibly be wicked, and to destroy the beauty (impiety was a capital offence - yikes!) would surely offend the gods.  To really hammer home the extent of her beauty, he disrobed her before the court.  Anyway, Gerome has painted his interpretation of what this must have looked like, but I'm imagining people comparing this magnificent work to a puerile Benny Hill skit, wherein an actress was often suddenly disrobed for comedic affect, which is of course just another example of the patriarchy's privilege.  In case anyone's thinking of hanging around court rooms now, I'm confident this line of defence isn't argued and probably inadmissible under the Evidence Act.  Look, if what I'm saying is bothering any of you, I also think Benny Hill is a stupid and infantile old man (yes, I know he's dead).

As I've often wondered in my ramblings, is the world coming to a point where we can no longer just enjoy the works of art for what they are?  It must be really draining getting offended by just about everything on the basis of its subject matter, or who has produced the work.  I set about thinking this afternoon about works of art (whatever the medium) that have offended me, and I had trouble coming up with any.  I might not LIKE the finished product, but it doesn't mean I'm so offended my life is ruined.  If you're interested, the only movie I can think of off the top of my head that has truly offended me is 1977's I Spit on Your Grave.  Just typing the title made me throw up in my mouth a little.  The subject matter (a woman who gets revenge on her gang rapists), the acting (bahahahahaha - what acting?), the cinematography (from some twerp who was probably stoned), and the actual rape scene (it went for thirty minutes or so) all combined to one big cinematic vortex of pure nauseating horror.  I cannot recall being so appalled by a movie-watching experience in my life.  The best part of the movie was the credits at the end because then you knew it was over.  But did I think it should have been banned (which it was for a while)? No, because if some actors (bahahahahaha - I slay even myself!), and a director, and all the other associated crew have produced a movie of their own volition and free will that is intended for public viewing; why ban it?  By all means warn the public about the atrocious content, but let the public decide for themselves.  If you want to watch this movie, go right ahead.  Just don't invite me over to sit beside you and share some popcorn.