SURVIVING MAE WEST AND THE ARTICULATION OF RAPE

Remarks delivered by Priscilla A. Rodd at Rutgers University Panel on Rape, Literature, and the Press, sponsored by the Journalism Resources Institute, the Department of Journalism and Media Studies and the Rutgers Society for Professional Journalists, New Brunswick, NJ, November 14, 2006

Hello. My name is Priscilla Rodd, and I am here to discuss my process of articulating the experience of rape within creative writing. My recently published novel, Surviving Mae West, tells the story of a young woman who was raped. The resulting fears lead her to apply for a job at a brothel two years later. The book, which uses the journal format, begins when Tess writes about her first experience as a prostitute. Thereafter, Tess details her day-to-day experiences at the brothel, including lots of down-time watching television and chatting; she writes about her moments of panic alone in her apartment, her attempts at romance, and her conflicts with her parents and an alcoholic brother. She also narrates childhood memories that illuminate her present behavior and that of her family. Simply put, it’s a story about a young woman finding her way home.

One of the most common questions I am asked about the novel is – why did you choose the journal format?

There are many reason why this format felt crucial – a large one being that rendering how a woman, an individual, would react to rape felt so necessarily interior that the lone, stream of conscious quality of a journal felt like an accurate portrayal of someone’s state of mind who is dealing with unchecked trauma. In one entry, Tess recollects learning how to bike with her brother. In the next, she writes both about a hot date and the streaks of blood on her thighs after the rape.

Having personally survived sexual trauma and having researched rape’s aftermath, I understand that recovery can be a long and messy process. The superficial and physical wounds quickly heal, but the ingrained mental distress sometimes only starts to get ugly after a year or two pass. The onset of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, a common affliction among rape victims, is often delayed. Within Tess’s journal, I attempted to authentically depict the mental landscape of a long term sufferer. The intrusive thoughts and images, the moments of defiance and anger, the boredom, and the exasperation, all fade in-and-out of an ordinary reality. Of course, keeping a potentially mundane life both interesting and scenic presented a writerly challenge that kept me fully engaged throughout the five years that I spent with this project.

People often refer to the memoir Lucky when discussing literary books that deal explicitly with the impact of rape. In that narrative, Alice Sebold made the daring choice to fully describe her rape in the first chapter of the book. – It is interesting to note that Sebold battled a heroin addiction later in her recovery, though Lucky itself focuses on the rape, the immediate aftermath, and the trial. – One thing that I appreciate so much about Lucky is the author’s attempt to give a detailed description of her rape. Society, beyond those who have dealt intimately with sexual assaults, does not know what a rape looks like. Most do not understand that each attack is so different and that penile penetration is only a part of the menace and horror of sexual assaults.

I drew from many experiences when trying to render Tess’s rape – which is very much her own – I was never actually raped and the circumstances were very different. – To write about Tess’s rape and the fall-out, I drew from the experience of my aunt who was gang-raped. I drew from a friend who was raped by an acquaintance who gave her a lift, the experience most similar to Tess’s. A fourteen year old girl who worked with me was raped by two men who picked her up as she walked along a country road. Another friend was intimidated into giving a guy a blow job. Four good friends have spent years struggling with the trauma of child molestation. I have one close friend who is not a victim of sexual assault or molestation.

But beyond all of these sources, Surviving Mae West is Tess’s story – unique to her, unique because she is an individual and each crime is marked by the details in the victim’s mind. With Tess, she finds her parent’s inability to recognize the rape – even after she denies it – particularly hurtful. Being dragged by her hair and throwing up Thanksgiving dinner haunt her during flashbacks relating to touch and smell. The journal format allowed me to go into that depth, to focus on the magnified details that victims hone in on and struggle to let go of. The traumatic details that latch themselves onto a survivor’s mind are the most shaming, the ones usually shared with one or two people, if anybody.

In order to heal, Tess needed to have this journal as an outlet because she had not been able to tell the most important people in her life about the rape. Actually, the novel was originally titled Hush because of the theme of silence that runs through it, not only with Tess being unable to share her attack with others but also reflecting how she generally feels silenced. I found that the journal format is a way to acknowledge both issues of silence and expression – Tess tries to control her self-expression and vulnerability by keeping a private journal. But she also uses the blank pages as a quiet place where she can begin to safely face her life and fears.

The journal format, therefore, works as a plot device, a force in and of itself. Writing allows Tess to see herself. Writing also brings her emotions to the surface; it chips away at the happy hooker façade and at her ability to repress reactions. The climax of the book is when she is actually able to describe the rape to its end point and finds it necessary to end her work as a prostitute. It isn’t until Tess begins to write in the journal – and reflects on the numerous factors, beyond even the rape, that are influencing her -- that she is able to reach some self-awareness and make a change.

One thing I learned in my years of therapy is that how we react to trauma has everything to do with our past. Rape victims are all individuals with complex histories that are constantly at play, and, while common reactions can be identified, the specific impact of a rape is entirely related to a person’s history. Tess is drawn to prostitution because of a particularly defiant personality that’s always been apparent; because of a mother who encouraged the idealization of sexually progressive women in history such as Mae West; because of a desire to retain control over her emotions, being the good sibling of an alcoholic; in order to feel empowered by not needing help, and so on. How each person reacts to rape is completely intertwined with their individuality and all the forces of history.

Some readers have taken issue with Tess’s orgasms during her early days at the brothel. But women – individuals – are sexual beings, and for some, consensual sex is consensual sex. If one can focus on the physical pleasure, as Tess is able to do, then one can enjoy it. Women who are dealing with the trauma of rape can still experience pleasure. To deny that side makes women who do sleep around and find enjoyment feel ashamed. And to refuse to acknowledge the range of women’s sexual experiences deprives them of their complexity, their humanity.

Because of my deep respect for the individuality of experience, I hesitated to include the author’s note at the end of the novel that uses the label Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. The director of my press was reluctant to leave in the note because he felt it might undermine the literary merit and stamp the book with too much ideology. But in the end, I argued that what mattered most was that I would have appreciated such a candid reflection as I attempted to understand my self-destructive behavior. I felt compelled to provide a diagnosis for other women who might recognize themselves in Tess and want to seek help.

As we are talking here within the context of a journalism and media studies department, some present may be wondering why, if I was so concerned about an authentic presentation of sexual assault, didn’t I choose to go with nonfiction and write a memoir about my own experiences.

Firstly, I’m a fairly private person and protective of my family. And while I believe that to tell a rape survivor’s story you have to write about their childhood, I did not want to expose myself or my family to public scrutiny. Secondly, trying to fit my messy and wandering recovery into a narrative arch seemed impossible when I began this book. Thirdly, and perhaps most revealing, was the fact that I wasn’t actually raped. I managed to get away after being held hostage in my home for some time at knife point. Trying to chronicle how this seemingly “small” assault developed into full-fledged Post Traumatic Stress Disorder felt very murky and personal and almost inadequate. And finally, I felt “raped,” as in horrendously violated, and true physical penetration seemed closer to my emotional truth then the details of what had happened in my house those early morning hours.

And yet, in the past I have felt the compulsion to engage in casual sex in order to feel in control of my fears. I chose to work in strip clubs, losing my turmoil in the consuming nature of that job. I also felt more comfortable on the edge, living in the raw intersections of humanity. So there is no doubt that being able to draw on my experiences gave me confidence to feel that I could articulate rape. Not that someone who has not been raped couldn’t render the experience, but I felt an obvious intimacy with the subject. I believed, most importantly, that I could show a woman recovering from sexual assault is still a real person who is brave and flawed. She is someone who jokes about self-destructive tendencies while standing in the midst of them. A woman is still a woman even after she is raped. And in that knowledge is the power to recover from trauma.

My goal with Tess was to first create a young woman with whom we could relate and empathize. All resulting exploration of rape and its aftermath are inherently tied to that individuality. I believe this respect for the person before all else – should be the case when addressing any survivor of sexual assault.