Comedy misogyny

There was quite a good programme on TV recently presented by Kirsty Wark called Blurred Lines, about how sexism and misogyny is alive and well and possibly having a bit of a resurgence though social media etc (see: Mary Beard; Caroline Criado-Perez etc etc).

 The programme featured a bit about misogyny in comedy (last year at the Edinburgh Fringe was apparently dubbed the 'year of the rape joke') and featured amongst other things an interview with a comedian called Brendon Burns. He apparently features a lot of sexist jokes in his act and made the point that (I'm paraphrasing but this is the gist) nothing and no one, no group of people, should be off limits in comedy, women aren't a 'holy cow' he said.

 I completely agree with this. I do honestly think absolutely anything has potential to be funny if approached the right way, and nothing should be off limits. Women, rape, the lot. (I've never actually heard a funny rape joke but i will keep a beady out). There should be no 'holy cow'. I have enjoyed hours of stand-up which explores, in an intelligent and original way, some of the areas of life which people are often afraid to talk about for fear of causing upset (see case in point: Stewart Lee and his hallucinatory tales of meeting Jesus...)

 So why did i find the clips of Burns' sexist stand up routine so distasteful? Having agreed with his defence of his work, I got confused and briefly thought I was going to have to reassess my whole life. But then I realised, it wasn't that I found it offensive (I am almost impossible to offend through normal channels of common decency -believe me i've done tests - probably why I can find anything funny), it's just that his particular approach to women was lazy, unoriginal, and perpetrated the kind of boring stereotypes we have been hearing about for decades. It just wasn't very funny. It was like hearing jokes about Welsh people and sheep - you might snigger the first time, but after the 8654756886th you'll probably just sigh deeply and contemplate gnawing your own arm off.

 Maybe I don't dislike sexist jokes. But I definitely don't like bad comedy!

Book review: 'blueeyedboy' by Joanne Harris

I've had an account over at Goodreads for a while. I really like it as a website and the way it works as a social networking site with a difference, and I post up the occasional super-short review. I like doing this mainly because it helps me remember what I've read and what I thought of the book in the immediate aftermath of turning the final page. I just wrote one and noticed it gave you the option to share your review through a blog so I thought I'd give it a go! If this works well and my readers are interested, I may post some more in future!

Blueeyedboy by Joanne Harris
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I thought I would love this, as I recently read Joanne Harris's 'Gentlemen and Players', which I thought was a superb book, and was told this was in the same vein.

It has considerable similarities, based again on the idea of concealing your identity, and even set in the same town (the fictional school that formed the setting of 'Gentlemen and Players' also features in this novel). I liked the concept - the idea of characters hiding behind online identities, the blurring of the boundaries between fact and fiction. But I ultimately didn't get drawn into this book. The way it's told, through a series of fictional/semi-fictional blog posts by the two main characters, caused the narrative to lose momentum a little, and as a result the suspense didn't build enough for me and the twist at the end, while clever, didn't deliver the punch I was expecting.

Still, it's interesting, intelligent and well-written. I would still recommend this book, but perhaps not as strongly as some of Joanne Harris's other work.

View all my reviews

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I am a massive book lover and something I always wanted to do on my old blog but never got around to (there was always too much fun day-to-day stuff to write about while I was in Australia!) was to share some of my all time favourite books, what brought me to them and why I love them. Hopefully I'll get started on that soon!

Alfred Kubin at the Nottingham Contemporary

I found out that Nottingham Contemporary was holding an exhibition on Alfred Kubin just a few days before it opened. I find the Austrian artist a fascinating person and had seen a couple of his works in Vienna years back while I was studying at the University there on the Erasmus programme. Kubin's life, and particularly his childhood, was extremely troubled, but the way this spilled over into his art gives us a wonderful insight into his mind and clearly fueled his creativity.

I went by myself on the first Saturday that the exhibition opened, and then for a second time last week with Mark. The works are a lot to take in - you almost need to see them twice, once to feel the effect of them in terms of their dark, haunting nature, and a second time to really appreciate their artistry.

Kubin lived from 1877 to 1959, but all the works at the Contemporary date from a short period in Kubin's twenties, over the turn of the century, shortly after he suffered a complete nervous breakdown. Kubin's drawings are full of fantastical scenes with a dark, sinister edge. There are distorted figures, depictions of death and destruction, fear and terror. One of my favourites, 'Rapid Journey' features a giant, grotesque slug, carrying a number of well dressed, frolicking people in compartments along its back.

'Epidemic' (1900-1901)
A corner of the gallery, tucked behind a wall, housed the most disturbed and indeed disturbing works in the exhibition. These included the harrowing 'Scenes from Hell', a series of illustrations of extreme torture and dismemberment, and 'The Kiss', depicting a pornographic scene in which one party is a decomposed corpse.

'The Way to Hell' (1900) - another of my favourites. This is always how I always imagined the gates of hell to be, in Dante's 'Inferno'.

But Kubin's work isn't just about the horror or the shock-value. His view of the world may be dismal, but it is presented in such amazing detail and with such wonderful artistic skill. I guess that is why it has endured so well.

Kubin shares the billing at the Contemporary with a current artist, Francis Upritchard, whose sculptured figures contrast with and, in a strange way, complement Kubin. A couple of her older works, including grotesque fur monkey-type creatures, sit in the Kubin galleries, while two of the spaces are given over to her work alone. The first room contains 'War Dance', a number of figures on plinths that appear to be engaged in some sort of war. They are in smart white uniforms, and each adopts a battle pose. But rather than appearing threatening and powerful, they are gangly, puny and almost pathetic looking.

The second room contains the 'Hippies and Holy Fools', colourful figures with a psychedelic feel, who look like they have just wandered out of a late-1960s festival. They are extremes, almost caricatures.

I stared at one of the War Dance figures in the eyes for a long time to see if he would move, come alive. He didn't, but there is something in the figures that draws you in, just like in Kubin's work...something of the unreal. Something that takes you into a new, strange place in your imagination.