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A review by spacestationtrustfund
Epistemology of the Closet by Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick
3.0
Eve Sedgwick argues that most teaching and scholarship has a "don't ask, you shouldn't know" mentality in the face of questions concerning sexuality, particularly homosexuality, within history and literature. A list of the typical "answers" given, according to Sedgwick, includes the following:
1. Passionate language of same-sex attraction was extremely common during whatever period is under discussion—and therefore must have been completely meaningless. Or
2. Same-sex genital relations may have been perfectly common during the period under discussion—but since there was no language about them, they must have been completely meaningless. Or
3. Attitudes about homosexuality were intolerant back then, unlike now—so people probably didn't do anything. Or
4. Prohibitions against homosexuality didn't exist back then, unlike now—so if people did anything, it was completely meaningless. Or
5. The word "homosexuality" wasn't coined until 1869—so everyone before then was heterosexual. (Of course, heterosexuality has always existed.) Or
6. The author under discussion is certified or rumoured to have had an attachment to someone of the other sex—so their feelings about people of their own sex must have been completely meaningless. Or (under a perhaps somewhat different rule of admissible evidence)
7. There is no actual proof of homosexuality, such as sperm taken from the body of another man or a nude photograph with another woman—so the author may be assumed to have been ardently and exclusively heterosexual Or (as a last resort)
8. The author or the author's important attachments may very well have been homosexual—but it would be provincial to let so insignificant a fact make any difference at all to our understanding of any serious project of life, writing, or thought.
What I personally find most interesting about this admittedly frustrating compilation of all-too-common excuses (this book is over 30 years old and these are still issues seen today—when marking down how many of these responses I've encountered in my own research into queer history and sexuality, I got a full bingo) is the fact that there's an element of truth in each of them. It is true, for example, that the word "homosexuality" (no. 5) did not exist until the late 19th century, meaning that previous generations of queer people did not identify themselves as such, and it would therefore be anachronistic to apply the label posthumously to, say, Alexander III of Macedon, since the concept of homosexuality did not exist. It is not true, on the other hand, that everyone was heterosexual before that date: the word "heterosexual," in fact, dates back only to 1886 with the publication of Richard von Krafft-Ebing's Psychopathia Sexualis: eine Klinisch-Forensische Studie, the first academic source to mention heterosexuality, homosexuality, and bisexuality (in the context of human sexuality: the term previously referred exclusively to monoclinous flowers, i.e., those with both stamens and carpels). The best lies are based on truth, as it's said.
I don't necessarily agree with all of her arguments, and in fact I think that Sedgwick adopts a presentist mindset at times; Sedgwick is a genius but this book works best not as a study of the actual physiognomy it claims to delineate but rather as a study of queer perception of queer history in this specific time period and region.
1. Passionate language of same-sex attraction was extremely common during whatever period is under discussion—and therefore must have been completely meaningless. Or
2. Same-sex genital relations may have been perfectly common during the period under discussion—but since there was no language about them, they must have been completely meaningless. Or
3. Attitudes about homosexuality were intolerant back then, unlike now—so people probably didn't do anything. Or
4. Prohibitions against homosexuality didn't exist back then, unlike now—so if people did anything, it was completely meaningless. Or
5. The word "homosexuality" wasn't coined until 1869—so everyone before then was heterosexual. (Of course, heterosexuality has always existed.) Or
6. The author under discussion is certified or rumoured to have had an attachment to someone of the other sex—so their feelings about people of their own sex must have been completely meaningless. Or (under a perhaps somewhat different rule of admissible evidence)
7. There is no actual proof of homosexuality, such as sperm taken from the body of another man or a nude photograph with another woman—so the author may be assumed to have been ardently and exclusively heterosexual Or (as a last resort)
8. The author or the author's important attachments may very well have been homosexual—but it would be provincial to let so insignificant a fact make any difference at all to our understanding of any serious project of life, writing, or thought.
What I personally find most interesting about this admittedly frustrating compilation of all-too-common excuses (this book is over 30 years old and these are still issues seen today—when marking down how many of these responses I've encountered in my own research into queer history and sexuality, I got a full bingo) is the fact that there's an element of truth in each of them. It is true, for example, that the word "homosexuality" (no. 5) did not exist until the late 19th century, meaning that previous generations of queer people did not identify themselves as such, and it would therefore be anachronistic to apply the label posthumously to, say, Alexander III of Macedon, since the concept of homosexuality did not exist. It is not true, on the other hand, that everyone was heterosexual before that date: the word "heterosexual," in fact, dates back only to 1886 with the publication of Richard von Krafft-Ebing's Psychopathia Sexualis: eine Klinisch-Forensische Studie, the first academic source to mention heterosexuality, homosexuality, and bisexuality (in the context of human sexuality: the term previously referred exclusively to monoclinous flowers, i.e., those with both stamens and carpels). The best lies are based on truth, as it's said.
I don't necessarily agree with all of her arguments, and in fact I think that Sedgwick adopts a presentist mindset at times; Sedgwick is a genius but this book works best not as a study of the actual physiognomy it claims to delineate but rather as a study of queer perception of queer history in this specific time period and region.