Uncommon sense
Ellen Willis on the inane '90s
by Michael Bronski
DON'T THINK, SMILE! NOTES ON A DECADE OF DENIAL. By Ellen Willis. Beacon Press, 193 pages, $25.
Reading Ellen Willis feels like a great discussion
with a witty, politically perceptive friend over Sunday-morning bagels and
endless cups of coffee. She is that rare thing -- a social journalist with
leftist and feminist politics whose mind and political framework are open
enough to reach often surprising conclusions. (And that's not a slam on
"political correctness": there may not be many progressive journalists who fit
this description, but there are almost no conservative ones who do.) Though her
work is, at heart, ideological -- that is, she sets forth clearly articulated
political positions -- it never succumbs to knee-jerk cant or holier-than-thou
posturing.
Willis has been a beacon of sanity on the cultural and political scene since
the late 1960s, when she wrote about rock, sex, and the counterculture for
the New Yorker, Rolling Stone, and the New York Review of
Books, among other publications. At the Village Voice -- where she
wrote about feminism, politics, and the left -- she became a weekly fixture.
Often, she was so far ahead of the curve that what seemed at the time to be
around the bend now looks like simple common sense. In a harsh 1973 review of
the misogynistic Deep Throat, for example, Willis sounded like a utopian
or a crackpot when she called for a new feminist pornography; today, there is
an entire industry of female-centered and feminist porn.
Willis's essays of the 1970s and '80s have already been collected in,
respectively, Beginning To See the Light: Pieces of a Decade (1980) and
No More Nice Girls: Countercultural Essays (1992). Now, in
Don't Think, Smile!, she takes on the '90s -- the decade of The Bell
Curve and Monicagate, Anita Hill and Karen Finley, O.J. Simpson and the
Million Man March. For Willis, it's been 10 years of political, sexual, racial,
and social crises that have been met, on both the right and the left, with a
sheer refusal to question received wisdom or engage in substantive
deliberation. Most Americans, she suggests, approach events of the day with the
attitude that former Speaker of the House Tom Foley expressed on the eve of the
US invasion of Panama: "This is not the time for a lot of complicated debate."
Willis pegs conservatives, of course, as the worst offenders when it comes to
blindness about economic crises, which they ignore in favor of "cultural
politics" -- specifically, a determination to maintain traditional social
structures that keep women, people of color, and homosexuals in their place.
(It's especially satisfying to watch her demolish Charles Murray and Richard
Herrnstein's The Bell Curve, which attributed the majority of social
problems to supposedly inherent differences in intelligence among classes and
races.) But she points out that many progressives play the denial game too,
rejecting cultural issues as mere "identity politics," a perilous distraction
from the "real" work of social change (namely, economic and class issues). For
Willis, the idea of wide-scale social change is inseparable from personal
change and, ultimately, personal autonomy. On the subject of sexual-harassment
law, for example, she argues that women will not truly be liberated until they
can freely choose sex, not just be protected from it.
Willis's bold analysis cuts through easy political and moral posturing. She
deconstructs the assumptions of one conservative, David Boaz of the
right-libertarian Cato Institute, noting that he "complains of unmarried
welfare mothers' `long-term deendency' on government, as if it were
unquestionably preferable that mothers be forced into long-term dependency on
husbands." And she lucidly exposes the way the right conflated the private and
the public spheres by treating the Monica Lewinsky and Paula Jones affairs as
part of one undifferentiated sex scandal. She also has a remarkable capacity to
reframe politically or emotionally confusing realities so that they become
understandable. On African-American support for the Million Man March, for
instance: "It's hardly surprising that black men flocked to a Farrakhan march
. . . any more than it's surprising that whites voted for the
Gingrich Congress. Most blacks don't subscribe to Farrakhan's more extreme
views, but then most whites don't subscribe to the Republican right's more
extreme views. It's just that there is no serious competition out there."
Willis forges her way through thorny debates without losing subtlety or
measure -- balancing anti-porn feminist Catharine MacKinnon's "obsessive
erotophobia," for example, against her obvious concern for the safety of women.
Always, she returns to her touchstones of compassion and common sense. "My own
vision of what I want . . . has at its center the
conviction that freedom and equality are symbiotic, not opposed," she writes.
"[M]y measure of a good society is the extent to which it functions by
voluntary cooperation among people with equal social and political power." In a
time when politics and political writing have degenerated into sound bites and
sensationalism, Ellen Willis reminds us that integrity and human dignity, a
quick wit and a dead-on style, offer the hope that we can make sense of -- and
maybe even change -- the world.