Scan barcode
A review by brice_mo
Consent: A Memoir by Vanessa Springora
5.0
An incredible and upsetting read, Consent is both a reclamation and a rebuttal of the narrative that surrounded Vanessa Springora after her abuse at the hands of a celebrity author, Gabriel Matzneff.
Stories about traumatic events are a balancing act because they require the courage to be open and the restraint to not succumb to exhibitionism. Vanessa Springora is explicit but never excessive, and she demonstrates such a deep understanding of her own experience and how it fits into systemic, cultural problems.
Many writers have argued against the notion of the male genius, and this memoir demonstrates why such conversations are so important. Springora delves into how sexual predators are enabled when they have social capital, and I was mortified at how virtually every major thought leader of the 20th-century cosigned Matzneff’s endorsement of pedophilia.
After reading, I wonder if predation becomes its own form of capital as well. Within the French context, Springora identifies the way a Darwinian view of culture leads people to believe they “outgrow” social mores and ethical taboos. Her description of public attitudes about Matzneff suggest that he was beloved not merely in spite of his abuse, but because of it—it evidenced a tortured artist who just needed an outlet. In Matzneff’s case, it demonstrated just how far he was “above” normal ethical obligations.
Although I can’t think of such flagrant cases in the United States, we have all the right ingredients for the same infernal alchemy. I can imagine many conservative people pointing to Springora’s story as an example of the dangers of post-Christian culture, but the closest American parallel I could think of is celebrity pastors who abuse their power, only to walk out unscathed and celebrated for their “honesty” or “redemption arc.”
Quite literally, discourse creates reality, and if power is on someone’s side—whether that’s cultural or “divine”—they will be untouchable.
I wonder—why do we equate power with morality? And how do we move away from that?
Stories about traumatic events are a balancing act because they require the courage to be open and the restraint to not succumb to exhibitionism. Vanessa Springora is explicit but never excessive, and she demonstrates such a deep understanding of her own experience and how it fits into systemic, cultural problems.
Many writers have argued against the notion of the male genius, and this memoir demonstrates why such conversations are so important. Springora delves into how sexual predators are enabled when they have social capital, and I was mortified at how virtually every major thought leader of the 20th-century cosigned Matzneff’s endorsement of pedophilia.
After reading, I wonder if predation becomes its own form of capital as well. Within the French context, Springora identifies the way a Darwinian view of culture leads people to believe they “outgrow” social mores and ethical taboos. Her description of public attitudes about Matzneff suggest that he was beloved not merely in spite of his abuse, but because of it—it evidenced a tortured artist who just needed an outlet. In Matzneff’s case, it demonstrated just how far he was “above” normal ethical obligations.
Although I can’t think of such flagrant cases in the United States, we have all the right ingredients for the same infernal alchemy. I can imagine many conservative people pointing to Springora’s story as an example of the dangers of post-Christian culture, but the closest American parallel I could think of is celebrity pastors who abuse their power, only to walk out unscathed and celebrated for their “honesty” or “redemption arc.”
Quite literally, discourse creates reality, and if power is on someone’s side—whether that’s cultural or “divine”—they will be untouchable.
I wonder—why do we equate power with morality? And how do we move away from that?