woman appears to be moving ever closer to intercourse with him. And yet-here
is the digimodernist point-within the logic of the photos she doesn’t actually
get closer to sex with anyone at all, there’s no one else there anyway, there’s
only an increasingly unclothed and eroticized woman. And nothing in the
images explains why her appearance and conduct are changing that way. The
images then are only intelligible, both in their content and their sequencing,
by inserting into them the sexual habits of their male consumer. Otherwise,
they look almost bizarre.
This process is found in hard-core movies in even more dramatic form. Here,
sexual positions are adopted solely that someone can watch the performers who
are adopting them, and clearly see their genitalia. Couples copulate with their
bodies scarcely touching, or contort their limbs agonizingly, or favor improbable
geometries, solely in order that penetration be made visible. Male ejaculation
occurs outside of the woman’s body purely in order that a viewer can watch it
happen (nothing in the text explains such a pleasureless act). The mechanics
of hard-core industrial pornography suggest an unreal corruption, a slippage
from sex as it is done and enjoyed to sex done so that someone else can enjoy
seeing it, and this corruption generally has the unspoken effect of diminishing
the participants’ pleasure. Such positions, the ejaculation shot, and the rest are
staples of industrial pornography not because they yield unrealistically fantastic
sex but because they permit unrealistically visible sex. While deformation of
“known reality” for creative purposes is all but universal in the arts,·its function
is doubly peculiar here: first, since the unique selling point of hard core is its
documentary sexual factuality, the distortions simultaneously betray the genre’s
raison d’etre and furnish its necessary cast-iron proof, making them both
structurally crucial and self-destructive; and second, every one of the changes
here stems specifically from the systematic and crude sexual demands of the
watching consumer, not from the artfulness of the creator.
This is equally apparent in the narrative logic of industrial hard-core porn
movies, which integrates their consumption, constructing itself out of the
circumstances of their viewing. If viewing here is the chancy reception of
sexual images, then the circumstances of the encounters seem correspondingly
impromptu, the sudden couplings of virtual strangers (the pizza delivery boy
or the visiting plumber and the housewife) both in their narrative context and
in their presentation to the watching gaze. If viewing is voyeurism with the
consent of the seen, then encounters tend to exhibitionism, sex breaking out
on yachts or hilltops, in gardens, by pools, such that the viewer’s “discovery”
of naked copulating bodies is mirrored by the performers’ “display;” both to
the viewer and narratologically, of their nudity and their copulation. If viewing
3/5
The Death of Postmodernism And Beyond ………………………………………………………… Alan Kirby
Alan Kirby, Digimodernism. How New Technologies Dismantle the Postmodern andReconfigure our Culture. New York, London: Continuum, 2009, pp 75–80
means “happening” on other people having sex, then performers do it to fellow
cast members too, accidentally entering rooms to find sex in progress, and
joining in or watching. Indeed, the proportion of encounters watched from
within the scene as well as from outside is striking.
Its alloyed digimodernism marks off the hard-core industrial porn film from
any other movie genre, even those, like comedy or horror, which also aim to
stimulate a visceral or physical response. In turn, no genre excites as powerful
a reaction in its viewer, an impact that derives less from its ostensible content
than from its digimodernist construction. While experienced perhaps most
acutely by fans, hard-core porn tends also to have a fairly overwhelming or
engulfing effect on those who find it disgusting or tawdry. That engulfing, that
outflanking of the viewer is recognizably digi modernist and shared to a great
extent by videogames and reality TV; each short-circuits, in a way that elicits
inappropriate notions of “addiction;’ a deliberate, controlled response. We will
come back to this issue later.
Its digimodernism also means that industrial pornography should be primarily
seen as something that is “used” rather than “read” or “watched;’ employed
as an ingredient of a solitary or shared sexual act outside of which it makes
no sense or. appears ludicrous. However, it’s undeniable that, for many
reasons, the viewer whose feelings, actions, sightlines, and rhythms are so
efficiently uploaded into and visually integrated by industrial pornography
tends to be male. There is little universality about the use of porn. Women,
research suggests, initially find hard-core films as arousing as men do but lose
interest much more quickly, and this may be because the movies are textually
invested, in their content and sequencing, with the sexual practices, habits,
and responses of an expected male viewer. It is women whose pleasure is
most visibly articulated (men’s is self-contained) or whose fellatio is in all
senses spectacular; it’s the woman’s body that is waxed and inflated to become
something it had never previously needed to be: exciting to stare at during sex.
However, textual conventions (regular, monotonous) must be separated here
from their possible reception (perhaps wayward, unexpected): ·it is not because
industrial pornography reinvents lesbianism solely as an object of male regard,
for instance, that some straight women don’t find it exciting. This discussion
is about textuality, not consumption.
The digimodernism of industrial pornography is doubly partial: it coexists with
its postmodernism (an interesting contribution to debates about their relationship);
and the viewer (textually male) does not determine or contribute to the content
or sequencing of the material by any conscious act. His sexuality, abstracted
4/5
The Death of Postmodernism And Beyond ………………………………………………………… Alan Kirby
Alan Kirby, Digimodernism. How New Technologies Dismantle the Postmodern andReconfigure our Culture. New York, London: Continuum, 2009, pp 75–80