An ongoing conversation among academics, especially those
who play in such areas as queer theory, is that of the accessibility of
language and concepts. Are books,
essays, and articles written for the academically elite, or should there be a
wider audience who can (and/or does) engage with these texts? J. Jack Halberstam seeks to interrupt the
relegation of queer and critical discourse to the academy. In his latest book, Gaga Feminism: Sex, Gender, and the End of Normal, Halberstam
successfully weaves feminist discourse, queer theory, critical politics, and
analyses of race, class, and the gay and lesbian movement’s push for marriage
equality together using popular culture as an epoxy to which everything
sticks. Despite what I read as several
minor flaws, the overall argument that Halberstam makes, that we need to “go
gaga,” resonates loudly (as well he wants it to!).
The first telling sign of Halberstam’s new book is its
publisher, Beacon Press. Perhaps better
put, it is telling that Halberstam’s book is not published by a university
press, which has been the case with all of his previous works. The move to Beacon Press signals, to me, a
desire to be read outside of academic circles and to further connect with his
consideration of “low theory,” which he does well to establish in his last
book, The Queer Art of Failure. Adding to the accessible nature of the book,
Halberstam begins the book by being exceedingly open with his gender identity
and his life. Whereas previously
Halberstam has kept a distance from his work, this book smacks of the personal,
giving it a personal touch that is carried through the entire text to emphasize
the point, as he does toward the end, that the personal is political. Halberstam is open about his evolving
relationship to his gender identity and expression, the family he has formed
with his partner, her two children, and the multiple (re)readings of him by
those in his life. He shares intimate
and, some may say banal details of his life and, in doing so, creates a
connection with the reader that forgoes the need to establish academic
credibility through incessant citing or high rhetoric.
Halberstam states this book “emerge[s] as a series of ‘what
if’ questions” (p. xxiv), all of which culminate in envisioning a form of
feminism motivated by Lady Gaga. This
feminism, gaga feminism, is one that is beyond borders and is meant to provoke,
excite, push back, be loud, and generally go gaga. Halberstam admits there are problems with
Lady Gaga’s politics (most notably her commitment to the “born this way”
rhetoric and support of gay marriage), but he insists that it is her
performance, persona, and embodiment that motivate this articulation of
feminism. By calling on the spectacle
that is Gaga, Halberstam is also calling on his readership to engage in a
critical form of politics that looks to envision a new world out of the colossal
mess that has become our economy as well as our relationships to sex,
sexuality, and gender.
Overall, Halberstam’s book is incredibly successful at
helping the reader think of new possibilities.
More than anything, Halberstam encourages readers to embrace failure as
a form of potential. For example,
Halberstam notes the social impossibility of queer identities and lives. Therefore, rather than strive to reinforce a
status quo that continues to denigrate queer lives and family formations (e.g.,
gay marriage), Halberstam advocates that we recognize the potential of queer
families, relationships, and forms of kinship. It is out of this failure, then,
that new possibilities emerge. This is a
notion Halberstam advances is The Queer
Art of Failure, and puts to good use in Gaga
Feminism.
Gaga Feminism
reads as part social critique, part academic cultural studies, and part
call-to-arms. Halberstam’s critique of
gay marriage is powerful, easy to grasp, and builds on what Michael Warner
wrote in his 1999 book The Trouble with Normal
As I said at the outset of my review, the book has several
minor flaws. For example, for a book
that attempts to move beyond the walls of the academy, I was surprised that
Halberstam starts off discussing an interaction he had with feminist author
Susan Faludi at a conference, after which he precedes to deconstruct her
arguments. While he makes a compelling
case, I find the method of critique, as well as the location in which the
example is situated, to be one with which not many outside of the academy will
be able to connect. Additionally, I was not overly compelled by
Halberstam’s critique of the university toward the end of the book. It seemed to come out of left field and,
while I am familiar and sympathetic with the argument, it felt like a
throw-away in this book. Halberstam did
not spend enough time establishing the importance, causes, or significance of
deconstructing the academy, making it seem like a strawperson argument set up
to help him get to his larger project: that we need to defy the status
quo.
Otherwise, I found the book compelling. It is compact and is a quick and easy read,
which speaks to Halberstam’s abilities as a writer given the intellectually
difficult content being discussed. Of
much delight to me is the way that Halberstam enacts gaga feminism textually,
floating from topic to topic, example to example with a form of child-like
wonder and whimsy. This book is playful
yet intense, powerful yet approachable, and loud yet intimate. I would strongly recommend it for folks who
have found themselves, as I have, looking around and saying “so what the hell
are we to do as a society now?”
Especially on the precipice of a national election that holds little, if
any, promise for a “better future,” Halberstam’s book provides a potential
strategy of resistance by advocating that we go gaga. And I, for one, am down with this plan; Gaga
it is!
