anthology controversy?

I just belatedly stumbled on some criticisms of my January Bookslut piece about anthologies, and I sure do wish I’d gotten to respond sooner. Brooke Warner, an editor at Seal Press, posted her response at Feministing, writing:

What’s surprising is that Loeb, a self-proclaimed feminist, would even ask the questions she poses: “Are we really still butting heads over abortion? Haven’t we been fighting ‘the mommy wars’ forever? How much longer do we have to deal with this whole wage gap thing?” Loeb might ask herself why she continues to stand behind a movement that’s still committed to fighting for causes that she’s sick of hearing about….If this all feels like rehashing and bemoaning, then I’m concerned that other young feminists who are brave enough to call themselves feminists are at risk of getting so jaded so quickly that they won’t want to hear about, talk about, or read about these pressing issues. Forget reaching new audiences.

First of all, how about not expressing horror that a self-identified feminist might dare to ask certain questions, no matter what they are? A more immediate clarification: I was being sarcastic. Feminist struggles feel repetitive. It’s exhausting to keep fighting for the same things. Being sick and tired of constantly fighting for reproductive rights and equal pay doesn’t mean they’re not important struggles. Can’t we admit to frustration and burnout?

Earlier, Warner writes:

Listen Up was published in 1995, and during my time at Seal Press many women have told me that that book was what turned them onto feminism. We Don’t Need Another Wave does, indeed, cover many of the same topics—twelve years later. There are personal essays and confessionals that range in topic from abortion to abuse to polyamory. Loeb’s critique of “the heavy emphasis on personal experience” dismisses the very thing that brings many young women into the movement in the first place—that someone out there is relating an experience that resonates so deeply that it provokes an awakening, an ah-ha moment: They’re feminists—and that’s a good thing.

Yes, Listen Up was and probably still is an important book. But it’s not like there were no anthologies broadly addressing feminism put out in the 12 years since. And I don’t hate on using personal experience as fuel for writing and politics. It bothers me when it doesn’t lead anywhere, though (and sometimes particularly personal writing lapses into something like parody without being aware of it). Maybe more of a problem than actual anthology content is that there are just so damn many of these compilations, and comparatively few books on feminism by single authors offering a clear argument. This might be indicative of the reality of this moment that we’re living and working in, but it still bothers me. I don’t want feminists to take the easy way out, and it seems like that’s what some of these anthologies do.

Warner is of the opinion that I am “operating under the assumption that the only people reading feminist anthologies are feminists and women’s studies majors.” Nope. I can’t stand it when people act like they are too above Feminism 101 to hang out and offer support while those who weren’t lucky enough to learn this stuff early get a little baseline education (whether in a bar, an anthology, a movie theater or a classroom of any kind). I certainly hope these books are reaching beyond communities that are consciously feminist, though it’s hard to know if they are.

Newer anthologies don’t need to reinvent the format, or even uproot the consciousness raising tradition in which they’re grounded, but they might think a little more carefully about their intended audience. When a book tries to work on all levels for every possible reader, it too often ends up seeming redundant to those already familiar with its subject, and a little mystifying to those who are coming to the material for the first time. In no way did I mean to “[bash] one of the trends that gives young women a sense of voice and agency.” I want these feminist anthologies to do the work they set out to do, and that’s why I care enough to take them to task.