The Black Body in Ecstasy: Reading Race, Reading Pornography

230 Pages·2014·1.091 MB·English

by  Jennifer C. Nash

THE BLACK BODY IN ECSTASY
Next Wave: NeW DirectioNs iN WomeN’s stuDies
A series edited by Inderpal Grewal, Caren Kaplan, and Robyn Wiegman
THE BLACK BODY IN ECSTASY
/ JENNIFER C. NASH
Reading Race, Reading Pornography    
Duke uNiversity Press Durham aND LoNDoN 2014
© 2014 Duke University Press
All rights reserved
Printed in the United States of America
on acid- free paper ♾
Designed by Amy Ruth Buchanan
Typeset in Quadraat by Tseng Information Systems, Inc.
Library of Congress Cataloging- in- Publication Data
Nash, Jennifer C., 1980–
The Black body in ecstasy : reading race, reading pornography /
Jennifer C. Nash.
pages cm — (Next wave)
Includes bibliographical references and index.
isbN 978- 0- 8223- 5605- 9 (cloth : alk. paper)
isbN 978- 0- 8223- 5620- 2 (pbk. : alk. paper)
1. Pornography—Social aspects—United States. 2. African
American women in motion pictures. 3. African American
women—Sexual behavior. I. Title. II. Series: Next wave.
PN1995.9.N4N36 2014
791.43′652996073—dc23
2013026381
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments vii
Introduction 1
Reading Race, Reading Pornography
1 / Archives of Pain 27
Reading the Black Feminist Theoretical Archive
2 / Speaking Sex / Speaking Race 59
Lialeh and the Blax- porn- tation Aesthetic
3 / Race- Pleasures 83
Sexworld and the Ecstatic Black Female Body
4 / Laughing Matters 107
Race- Humor on the Pornographic Screen
5 / On Refusal 128
Racial Promises and the Silver Age Screen
Conclusion 146
Reading Ecstasy
Notes 153 Bibliography 181 Index 213

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book began as a dissertation directed by a committee of “courage-
teachers”—to borrow from Allen Ginsberg—who generously supported
the labor of imagination and leaps of faith required to complete this proj-
ect. Werner Sollors is courage-t eacher extraordinaire. He championed this
project before it was even a project, offered thoughtful suggestions on
numerous drafts, and encouraged me to write fearlessly. I will always be
grateful for his support. Evelyn Brooks Higginbotham has been teacher,
advisor, and generous mentor; she consistently raised the intellectual bar,
pushing me to produce better work. She is my model for scholarly integrity
and academic rigor. Kim McClain DaCosta helped me focus on the things
that matter, and encouraged me let go of the things that don’t. I thank her
for insights on how to refine these chapters and—perhaps more impor-
tant—on how to navigate the academy with sanity and a modicum of grace.
This project was also shaped by my undergraduate thesis advisor, Danielle
Egan, who seemed to see this moment long before I did. She introduced me
to theory, encouraged me to “use my voice,” and taught me how to think
critically and creatively about pornography. Everything that has happened
in my intellectual life since my senior year of college bears her imprint.
While finishing this project, I had two other very important courage-
teachers: Sarah Tannenbaum and Darshan Krishna. Sarah’s swimming
lessons got me out of my head (and into the water) at the time I needed it
most. She introduced me to what I now consider one of life’s greatest plea-
sures, never lost her patience when I tried to talk my way out of a Super
500, and encouraged me to be fearless. Darshan- ji’s Hindi lessons got me
back into my head in an unexpectedly delightful way, and introduced me
to the pleasures of chalak bunder stories. Both of them taught me to cele-
brate playfulness, to embrace new adventures, and to be open to the small
mistakes that are part of learning.
This project also owes its existence to the host of institutions that
offered me time, space, and resources to research and to write. My first
debt is to my fantastic graduate department, African and African Ameri-
can Studies at Harvard University, and to the faculty and graduate stu-
dents who made it a collegial, vibrant, and fun intellectual community.
Thanks also to Women, Gender, and Sexuality Studies at Harvard Col-
lege; the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences at Harvard University; the
W. E. B. Du Bois Institute for African and African American Research; the
Woodrow Wilson Women’s Studies Fellowship; Columbia University So-
ciety of Fellows in the Humanities; and George Washington University’s
Columbian College. Thanks to my supportive colleagues in the American
Studies and Women’s Studies departments at George Washington Uni-
versity. I owe special thanks to Tom Guglielmo and Suleiman Osman for
friendship and mentorship, and to Libby Anker for her generous and en-
couraging feedback on many drafts. This project also owes so much to
Duke University Press, especially to Ken Wissoker, Leigh Barnwell, Eliza-
beth Ault, and the two reviewers who posed insightful and challenging
questions that pushed me in important ways. Thanks to Robyn Wiegman
for encouragement, and Nicole Fleetwood for boundless intellectual gen-
erosity.
Many of the ideas that are contained in these pages were first tried out
in the classroom. Thank you to my students at Harvard, Columbia, and
George Washington. The time that we spend making imaginative leaps
and diving into theory reminds me why I do this work. I owe a special
thanks to my very first students who taught me how to teach: Shawna
Strayhorn, Emily Owens, Tracie Palmer, Sarah Howard, and Vanessa Pratt.
I think back on our times together—sipping tea in the Gato and talking
feminist theory—with immense fondness.
Amber Musser and Elena Marx helped make this project what it is. They
viii / Acknowledgments
kindly waded through my endless pages of literature review and foot-
notes, and helped me locate the story that I wanted to tell. I owe Amber
endless thanks for friendship, intellectual companionship, and smart
feedback; she is often my first reader, and I am grateful for how she asks
hard questions while generously supporting my ideas. I also owe thanks
to an amazing group of friends whose kindness sustains me: Peter Geller,
Emily Owens, Deb Cohan, Amy Hesse Siniscalchi, Katie Rademacher,
Laura Murphy, Brandi Thompson Summers, and Alex and Whitney Van
Praagh (and the trio of smaller Van Praaghs).
Thanks to family: Naseem and Ameer Ahmad welcomed this “Ameri-
can girl” into their clan with tremendous affection, and introduced me
to the pleasures of finger chips, salty lime sodas at the Club, and biscuits
from the Petrol Pump Shop. Ken Clinton has always made time to cele-
brate life’s important events with me, and I am forever grateful. Jonathan
Evans has showered me with supportive e-m ails over the course of com-
pleting this project, and has kindly forgiven me for the many summer
afternoons I followed him around insistently asking, “Who’s Pete?”
My elders taught me so much about perseverance, courage, and the
importance of faith in something beyond the self. Though they aren’t
here anymore, I carry their stories, their affection, and their wisdom with
me as I move through the world. Thanks to my great-g randmother, Mae
Thompson; my grandfathers, Maurice Eastmond and Alfred Nash; and my
grandmothers, Christine Eastmond and Parthenia Nash. I owe a special
thanks to Maurice Eastmond, my Papa, who taught me that a life of ideas
was possible. Though our intellectual interests couldn’t be more different,
the completion of this project is in honor of the dissertation he began at
Columbia University in the 1940s.
Finally, thanks to the three who give me the most:
My parents, Carolyn and Douglas Nash, are the most selfless people I
know. They have given me the proverbial shirts off their backs more times
than I can count. And for as long as I can remember, they have maintained
an unshakable faith in me and in my capacity to do good things. They
have been there to celebrate every piece of exciting news I’ve been fortu-
nate enough to receive, and they have been there to help me dust myself
off after every disappointment. They humble me with their kindness, they
sustain me with their love, and I am forever grateful. (Dad, let me publicly
say: I promise an extra copy for the ’chives.)
Acknowledgments / ix