Anti-Christ, Critique of Individualism

By

Mark Featherstone

In continuing research into the contemporary culture of cruelty, I recently watched Lars Von Trier’s much hyped film Anti-Christ. In many ways Von Trier’s tale, which plays out the story of a couple struggling to come to terms with the death of their son, appears to be a study of a relationship in the process of melting down. However my view is that what the film really captures is a kind of natural history of humanity, filtered through biblical metaphor and sado-masochistic horror. I think that it is this back story that provides the existential meat which enthuses the explicit narrative of the film with so much of its power and makes it a profoundly unsettling viewing experience.

The prologue of the film shows the death of the couple’s son, an accident that occurs in the middle of their sex, highlighting the terrible symmetry of life and death, a theme which thinkers from Plato through Freud to Bataille have understood and returned to obsessively. Confronted with their loss, the two main characters struggle to cope. Chapter 1, Grief, shows Charlotte Gainsbourg’s character suffer psychological collapse, and her husband, played by Willem Dafoe, save himself by retreating into science, reason, and rationality. While Gainsbourg’s character, the child’s mother, grieves, confronting his death, Dafoe’s character seems to hide in his public role as therapist, taking refuge in her feelings of pain and loss, and never confronting his own feelings, which as we discover later on, may not actually exist.

This divergence in the way the two characters approach the problem of death is key because it enables Von Trier to turn them into representations of man and woman in general and tell a tragic story about the history of humanity through the concept of gender, taking in ideas of love, care, madness, and violence. The tragedy of this story, caught in the desperate depiction of man as a kind of Nietzschean demi-God, destined to rise above the world of nature, but totally unable to relate to those around him, is captured in the transformation of love into gynocide and the strange final scene, which shows Dafoe surrounded by a mass of faceless women and children who he is totally unable to relate to or recognise.

That the narrative of the film plays out in the woods, symbol of the Hobbesian state of nature where sex, death, and desire rule, and a site called Eden, referencing the biblical state of perfection and peace before the tragic fall of man, illustrates the wider context of the explicit content of the story. These two contextual frames, the human struggle to overcome nature in order to live in culture, and the biblical story of Adam, Eve, and the Devil who tempts Eve into sin are, of course, interrelated and entwined. But what are these two frames?

The biblical story of Adam and Eve depicts the fall of man from a state of perfection into nature, which is characterised by sex, death, desire, violence, and taboo and originates the drive to find some new form of peace, where humanity can finally overcome its own tortured nature. The Freudian story of civilization brackets out the original moment of perfection focusing instead on the drive to civilize nature, repress desire, and manage the eternal problem of the violent, savage, return of the repressed. In fusing these two stories together the film captures the drama of both, showing how Eden, the biblical state of perfection, always was the Hobbesian state of nature, the scene of horror, in the same way that the perfect Oedipal family, Father, Mother, Child, is always a traumatic triangle of sex, death, and violent struggle.

Charlotte Gainsbourg’s character seems to be acutely aware of the terrible symmetry of edenic perfection and the ultra violence of nature, a recognition captured in her choice of a phobic object, grass, that condenses her fear of the world. Gainsbourg’s mother is horrified by the feeling of grass under foot, terrified of Mother Earth who gives life, brings death, and is merciless in her application of the law of nature. Dafoe’s father figure seems to gain no understanding of the state of nature from the death of his son, but only later in moments which show similar scenes of death in nature, a deer still born, a fallen chick, consumed by a bird of prey, acorns falling, tapping relentlessly on the cabin, reminding Gainsbourg, Dafoe, the viewer of the terrible rhythm of nature, and the truth that life always gives way to death that brings new life and so on.

Gainsbourg’s character experiences nature in a memory of a child crying, a sound that fills the woods, and reflects her horror of the cycle of life and death characterised by grief, pain, and despair. These human responses to the relentless cycle of nature, a cycle which is entirely beyond our control, are offset by feelings of love, desire, and passion. It is the relationship between these two sets of emotions, love, desire, and passion, and grief, pain, and despair, which marks humanity down as a tragic species and leads Gainsbourg to tell Dafoe that nature is Satan’s Church. Satan’s Church, a place of desire, lust, and passion, and the drive to live, the drive to escape from the gravity of nature, offset by the crushing weight of death, and feelings of grief, pain, and despair at our inability to overcome our limit as earthbound creatures.

It is on the basis of a recognition of this tragic condition that the film progresses, showing how Gainsbourg’s recovery, her acceptance of nature, coincides with Dafoe’s collapse, and his struggle with the reality of life, death, and the ultimate futility of the disciplinary enterprise of civilization. Two events confirm this truth for Dafoe’s character. First, he meets a fox in the woods. The fox tells him that ‘chaos reigns’ and in doing so explains that all attempts at understanding and disciplining nature are fated to fail. Second, he revisits the autopsy report into his son’s death that shows a deformity in the child’s feet possibly caused by his mother confusing left and right and mixing his shoes up.

Although this tells us that there is a poor fit between culture and nature, with the former deforming the latter, and that the relationship between love and loss, grief, and pain turns off the failure of this relationship, Dafoe’s character makes a leap to a gendered value judgment. For Dafoe’s character, the classic father of psychoanalysis, representative of culture, what the autopsy report says is that the painful bind between love and loss is caused by the inability of human civilization to properly control nature, and that his other half is somehow implicated in this problematic, as a representative of nature, a flawed agent of culture.
It is at this point in the narrative that the relationship between Dafoe and Gainsbourg’s characters turns violent, with the former viewing the latter’s research into male violence and gynocide, and the latter announcing her masochist belief that women enjoy punishment and discipline. Dafoe’s character disagrees, but what follows depicts the classic psychoanalytic relationship between man and woman, where man represents culture and the desire to escape the world, and woman reflects the gravitational force of nature that seeks to pull him back down to earth. As Dafoe’s character seeks to dominate Gainsbourg’s character through the tools of culture, language and abstract knowledge, so Gainsbourg’s character seeks to control Dafoe’s character through ultra violence, tough love meant to ground him, and prevent him from ever ‘leaving her behind’. This tough love is, of course, paralleled by the infamous scene of genital self-mutilation, which represents Gainsbourg’s desperate attempt to realign herself with the world of culture, and thus her husband, who she has already sought to tie back to nature by driving a grindstone into his leg.

The final scene of the film shows the tragic failure of the couple’s relationship, torn apart by the death of their son, and their recognition of the truth of Jacques Lacan’s statement, ‘there is no such thing as a sexual relationship’. It is the main characters’ inability to accept the truth of this statement from the French psychoanalyst, which means that in any sexual relationship, or perhaps any relationship, each party is sustained by a different fantasy or perspective and that ultimately there is no symmetry, connection, or relationship between these fantasies, that pushes them towards sexual violence, because it is in their moment of loss, grief, pain, and despair that they need each other most.

It is here, in the recognition that now, when she needs him most, he is most distant, that the struggle between man and woman, culture and nature, becomes terminal, and she announces that ‘when the three beggars arrive someone must die’. Since grief, pain, and despair are on the scene, and the sado-masochistic relationship between culture and nature has reached the point of no return, we know that either she will stab him to death, thus ensuring that he will remain with her forever or he will kill her, abandoning her back to nature from where she came. The final moments of the film show the outcome. Dafoe’s character strangles Gainsbourg’s character and he wanders out into the woods to be confronted by a mass of faceless women and children who he cannot recognise or identify with and who speak of his profound alienation from his family, nature, and ultimately his own emotions.

In the late 1880s the great German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche wrote a book called Anti-Christ in order to announce his belief that some men are born to challenge nature, challenge God, and make their own way in the world. In other works, the figure of the Anti-Christ was represented by the famous Ubermensch or superman who was similarly capable of rising above the world. Like the superman who lived apart from society, Nietzsche was famously never married, had one brief sexual relationship, and remains one of history’s great individualists. Indeed, the Anti-Christ is thought of have been written when Nietzsche was stricken by syphilis, half mad, and totally caught up his own myth. What does this have to do with the cinematic Anti-Christ? I think that Lars Von Trier’s film tells of the other side of Nietzsche’s book. Where Nietzsche celebrates the life of the Anti-Christ, I think that Von Trier’s film is profoundly sociological in that it lays bare the horror of male, or what psychoanalysts might call, phallic individualism and shows what this approach to the world does to man’s relationships with women, children, and ultimately himself.

Shaking the hand that shook the hand of our Queen!

By Dr Lydia Martens

“Britain's Queen Elizabeth II will visit South Korea on April 19-22 to become the first British head of state ever to visit the Korean Peninsula since Korea and Britain established diplomatic relations in 1883, officials said Monday. A South Korean presidential spokesman said the queen will meet President Kim Dae Jung at the Blue House presidential office April 19. "The British queen's upcoming visit to (South) Korea is expected to provide momentum for friendly and cooperative relations between Britain and Korea to be upgraded to a higher level," the spokesman said. During her stay, the queen will try to visit as many places as possible in an effort to get first-hand experience of the different aspects of South Korean society and help deepen mutual understanding between the British and South Korean peoples, the spokesman said. The queen's itinerary includes visits to Hahoe village, an ancient folk village at Andong, North Kyongsang Province, ...”

What luck that this piece of newspaper reporting could still be found on the internet, as the Queen’s visit to South Korea, which I doubt many Brits will remember, took place in 1999. Not so the Koreans! If Hahoe (pronounce ‘hachway’) village is not solely known in Korea as an important national and historical heritage site, then the visit there by the Queen in 1999 is remembered by many. Following in the globe-trotting shoes of the Queen (albeit without the precious outfits and jewels) I travelled to Korea last week, to participate in the 25th anniversary conference of the Seoul Association for Public Administration (SAPA). The Association is currently debating the need to move towards greater use of qualitative methodologies, and I was invited by the Association’s President, Professor Soon-Bok Soe and the organiser of the methodology sessions, Professor Kwang-Sok Lee, to present a Keynote address to discuss the state of qualitative research in the United Kingdom.

I decided to concentrate on innovations in qualitative research in UK social sciences over the past 15 years, and outlined factors that influence innovative and traditionalising forces in the disposition of individual scholars, drawing group and institutional dimensions into the discussion. Social, economic and cultural change clearly drive new research agendas, which in turn encourage researchers to explore new ways of seeking answers through their research practices. Technological developments join into the mix, offering new tools which may be utilised during the different phases of the research process. These innovative forces are juxtaposed by traditionalising forces which, for instance, connect with scholarly debate on the diverse quality dimensions in qualitative research in its broadest sense. I spent a bit of time outlining the grander innovative initiatives the ESRC (Economic and Social Research Council) has resourced in the past 15 years, pointing to its support for qualitative data archiving, longitudinal qualitative research, and hypermedia/digitised opportunities. The Keynote address was well received, and conference delegates were keen to discuss the issues with me. During the two-day conference, I also presented a paper on the video methodology adopted in a completed ESRC project Domestic Kitchen Practices and provided a demonstration of NVivo 8; software used by qualitative researchers for project management and data analysis. Dr Se-Kwang Hwang, my former PhD student from Durham University, accompanied me by presenting on the methodological approach of his own research, in which children created videos to illustrate their everyday experiences of what life is like to live with a sibling with autism.

The conference took place at the National University of Gong Ju; one of South Korea’s historical cities, the lore of which was communicated to me by various conference delegates. I did not at all mind listening to the same story more than once. Given our European language focus, I can assure you that my ear took a while to get accustomed to recognising and remembering Korean sounds, names and events, though that thankfully improved as the visit progressed.

Apart from the conference, my stay provided an opportunity to take in some of what everyday life is like in Korea. It is striking how ‘high-rise’ Korean society is, and how, even in a historic city like Gong Ju, there are few, if any, older buildings that reiterate this fact. The dominance of rice as the staple food is quite obvious when travelling between cities. All flat and lower lying areas are used for the horticulture of rice, and other staples, like Chinese cabbage, used for the preparation of Kimchi, a vegetable relish eaten at every meal. Coming to Korea in the autumn meant that the rice fields were an appealing golden colour. These agricultural areas are separated by Korea’s hills and mountains, which take up a good proportion of the country’s space, and which are covered in trees and ... electricity pylons. Korea is, after all, a modern society, drawing inspiration in its design of cities and building from the US. Many of these hills also feature some tree-free areas, where the more affluent Koreans have their family tombs. Seen from the vantage point of my motorway observation, it struck me that Korea’s deceased clearly do not always ‘need’ a quiet place to rest, though it is clear that space is of a premium here. Not so ‘everyday’, perhaps, was the festival which was taking place in Gong Ju during the conference. Delegates enjoyed a walk along Gong Ju’s riverside and street scene in the evening, taking in the many different light displays along the way. We were accompanied by the major of the city (dressed in the cream coloured jacket in the picture above) part of the way. The major had been a former colleague of some SAPA members, and they welcomed each other warmly. If I learned anything about social relations in Korea it must surely be that face-to-face interaction is extremely salient for maintaining contact with people in your social network, and this takes up considerable commitment time-wise. This is further demarcated by cultural hierarchies associated with seniority. Knowing how to express deference in the right cultural context to the right people is very important.

But let me return to where I started: the story of Hahoe village and the traditional mask dance. Like the Queen, I was taken there for a visit by Professor Kwang Sok Lee. We parked at the workshop of the master mask maker, Kim Jong-Heung, which is situated along the side of the road and surrounded by brilliantly carved totems. The wood artist was clearly very proud of having met the British Queen in 1999, something illustrated by the various pictures on the wall (see the first picture above). I am uncertain whether it is this fact, or his amazing array of wooden sculptures, that attracts visitors here. The announcement by my Korean companions that I was from the UK was cause for special attention, as I soon discovered, when Kim Jong-Heung warmly shook my hands. Eventually, after pictures were taken and the necessary mask souvenirs purchased, we were sent on our way with a visitor card showing Kim Jong-Heung with the Queen.

Later that day, after we had enjoyed some lunch in one of the small, straw roofed, eating establishments on site (no sight of McDonalds or American style fast food anywhere!), we encountered Kim Jong-Heung again, this time behind one of his masks playing the figure of the monk in Hahoe’s traditional mask dance drama. Performance of the drama has been formalised today by the construction of a special theatre with frequent performances. In past times, the drama would have taken place in the village itself, performed by and for the villagers, and moving between different sites in the village, accompanied by nong-ak dance musicians. Walking through the village of Hahoe itself felt somewhat peculiar, as the tribe of people who originally populated it still live there today. We got the opportunity to visit the home of one of the village families, and observed the vegetable garden (full of spring onions, chillies and sesame seed plants), the kitchen and the courtyard of the extensive buildings, with its array of large earthenware pots containing soya sauce and other, frequently used ingredients for cooking. Two women sat along one side, cleaning fish, without engaging with the visitors. OK, the village and all that comes with it, is now a national heritage site, and visitors pay entrance fees which presumably go to benefit the villagers. Nevertheless! On our return to the car, we were caught once again by Kim Jong-Heung, who insisted that I had a go at wood carving. I hope I did not destroy his early efforts at carving the next totem. On reflection, I must admit that this tourist site visit was entirely relaxing for me! I did not encounter any blasé site staff here and found the interest shown by mask dancers and Kim Jong-Heung, not only towards myself, but also to other visitors, entirely friendly. If more Koreans show the kind of interest in ‘foreigners’ as was exhibited by the 9 year old boy on the bus, who proudly sported his Arsenal football top and told me he loved England and soccer, perhaps the Korean spokesmen who commented on the visit by the Queen in 1999 may be right in suggesting that relationships between Koreans and those from ‘the West’ may stand to improve further in the future. Given we are increasingly living in a globalised world, this is surely a necessity and should be welcomed.

I would like to thank Professor Kwang-Sok Lee and Professor Soon-Bok Soe of the SAPA association for inviting me to participate in the conference, and for giving me an opportunity to develop my insight into and appreciation of, Korean society. I look forward to future communications with the SAPA organisation.

Bring back mothers?

By Emma Head

Sociologists have long been interested in the transition to motherhood. Perhaps the best known study of this important time in a woman’s life was Anne Oakley’s work Becoming a Mother (1981), based on in-depth interviews she conducted with women in the 1970s. Earlier this month (July 2008) the Modern Motherhood conference in London focused on first-time motherhood and reported the findings of two research projects, The Making of Modern Motherhoods project led by Professor Rachel Thomson and Dr Mary Jane Kehily (Open University) and Becoming a Mother project led by Professors Wendy Hollway (Open University) and Ann Phoenix (Thomas Coram Research Unit at the Institute of Education). Throughout the day various contributors made the point that while politicians and policy documents now tend to refer to the gender-neutral ‘parenting’, this doesn’t reflect the social reality as the bulk of caring for children continues to be carried out by mothers.

This is a point taken up in a new report from the National Families and Parenting Institute (NFPI) titled Listening to Mother: Making Britain Mother-friendly. The report states that “The language of parenting has not always equalised the relationship between men and women: it has sometimes masked inequalities which have not been properly thought through or tackled”. The NFPI report goes on to argue that talking about ‘parenting’ in such a generalised way obscures the particular needs of mother, such as the needs for support services in the period immediately after childbirth. Britain has a shortage of midwives and a review of NHS maternity services has identified “serious flaws” in care, including a lack of support for mothers who have given birth. The numbers of health visitors, a group who provide support and advice to new mothers, are also in decline. The report identifies the way that the transition to motherhood has a far greater effect on the lives of women, than becoming a father has on men.

So how important is language? Is it time to stop talking about ‘parents’ and to give fuller recognition to the ways that the roles of mothers and fathers do differ in contemporary Britain. Or would an emphasis on mothers serve to perpetuate the difficulties women are facing in getting men to take on more caring tasks and also be exclusionary to those fathers who are increasingly involved in the care of small children?

At Keele, the motherhood and parenthood agenda is a hot topic: modules on the changing nature of the family and parenting relationships are on offer at levels 2 and 3 on the undergraduate programme, as well as modules on parenting and consumer culture. We also offer advanced Sociology of the Family as part of our Masters' in Research in Sociology.

In our research, there are a number of activites relating to the shaping of modern motherhood and parenting: Lydia Martens has an ongoing interest in this field, with specific reference to the ways consumer cultures shape motherhood, babyhood and children; Emma Head is also working on parenting styles and motherhood; the two of them, with Rebecca Leach, are developing a new project in this field. Lydia has recently been awarded (with Pauline Maclaran in Marketing at Keele) an ESRC seminar series on Mothers, Markets and Consumption.