My initial interest in the notion of anima was very limited. The concept, for whatever reason, lacked a personification that would attract my attention.
INTRODUCTION
My initial interest in the notion of anima was very limited. The concept, for whatever reason, lacked a personification that would attract my attention. The breadth and ambiguity of anima function confused me. The applications of the notion - that for me are extremely important in any discipline that I study - were not evident.
I was particularly interested in the manifestations of anima in the North American gay community. At the onset of my research I asked myself whether there was enough evidence to infer the existence of a "preliminary" link between anima function and homosexual men, which would justify a more thorough exploration of the issue. One of the most apparent pieces of evidence confirming that link was the classical Jungian theory stating that gay men's biological masculinity required a psychological feminine presence. Furthermore, I realized that if we considered some facets of the anima function and a "stereotypical homosexual" we would see that the adjectives used to describe the anima-energy - emotional, instinctual, touchy, sentimental, involved, spontaneous, and creative (1) - often characterize gay men. Lastly, I became even more interested when I read that Jung and Jungians linked the "problem" of homosexuality to the anima function. After seeing these introductory connections it, indeed, seemed to me that the relationship between anima and gay men required further investigation. I attempted to conduct such an investigation through the Jungian analysis of the gay culture in pre- and post-Stonewall periods.
PART I: PRE-STONEWALL PERIOD
Pre-Stonewall Gay Mythology
In conducting cultural analysis, Jungian psychology often relies on myths. However, it is somewhat problematic to centre gay cultural analysis solely on this particular form of expression. Even though there is some emerging work on the relationship between homosexuality and traditional mythology, this work is yet in its preliminary stages. It will primarily satisfy academic curiosity, but ultimately fail to reflect actual happenings in the collective psychological environment of gay men. This will occur due to the apparent lack of resonance between gay culture and classical mythology. The reasons for this lack of resonance are quite complex, and seem to result from a relative collective inaccessibility of the gay mythological material in 1900-1969 North America.
Traditionally myths have been accessible - in that they were passed down from one generation onto another - and collective - in that they were shared in a group medium and in that they expressed common concerns. Gay myths, though, that may actually have existed in pre-Stonewall North America, were quite hidden from the eyes of a general public. Traditional myths, on the other hand, failed to address the concerns of homosexuals. Even if we make an (albeit tentative) assumption of gay myths' availability, we will still fail to show the presence of a group medium in which that mythological material could have been shared. Without this medium one of the main characteristics of mythology - that is of its collectivism and resulting objectivism - is jeopardized.
Nonetheless, mythology is a fundamental part of any human culture. And as we know today, there are no human societies without culture. (2) So if there is a gay society (which there is), then there must be gay culture, and, consequently, there must be gay myths. I believe that in the pre-Stonewall North American gay community, film became a medium for gay mythological expression. Cinema, by its very nature, was both accessible and collective. As Daniel Harris suggests, it united geographically separated gay men into a single Hollywood-mediated collective fantasy, fostering the feeling of belonging and security. More importantly for some almost fatalistic (and, perhaps, even synchronistic) reason it indirectly dealt with a multitude of gay concerns ranging from social stratification to getting a man of one's dreams. Hence, movies gradually became the gay myth book. Hollywood transformed itself into the gay Mount Olympus. And unbridled women became the ultimate goddesses in the realm of the queer fantasy.
The Diva Character In Gay Mythology
The gay fascination with the shrewd female character was so tremendous that it became known as "Diva Worship" - an act of a truly mythical magnitude in the pre-Stonewall gay environment. It was the collective nature of this phenomenon that filled a void that traditional mythology could not satisfy. Paul Roen nicely captured the closeness of the relationship between Divas and gay men. He wrote that:
The great...actresses seem to have become a fixed immutable part of gay culture, whereas actors, on the other hand, come and go, fade, diminish, and are eventually forgotten. Women such as Bette Davis and Mae West, to give but two examples, have become gay traditions, their memory lovingly handed down from one generation to the next. Individual men, on the other hand, are notoriously a matter of taste. We each have our preference; tastes vary tremendously. (3)
Indeed, Divas were a central part of the gay consciousness for more than 40 years and provided a backdrop against which a new form of cultural expression gradually emerged. The psychological dynamics that underlined this process were, no doubt, incredibly complex and need a very thorough study. A preliminary step in such a study could be the discussion of the connection between the anima function -specifically its negative component - and pre-Stonewall divas.
Divas As Personifications Of The Negative Anima Function
Let us then begin this discussion, by looking at the ways that Jung described the negative anima function. James Hillman conducted an admirable scholarly task of not only combining some of Jung's key writings on the anima concept in one handy volume, but of also providing a series of very intellectually stimulating commentaries on them. Jung's descriptions that are of a particular interest to us depict the anima as "the glamorous, possessive, moody, and sentimental seductress" who "intensifies, exaggerates, falsifies, and mythologizes all emotional relations" (4); as the "Spinning Woman" who creates illusion by her dancing and entangles man's consciousness with the world (5); as the witch and the whore, who instantly transforms everything that she touches into something dangerous and magical (6); as the great queen who lives in the palace that is filled with hatred, spite, suspicion, jealousy, rejection, enmity, deception, and betrayal. (7)
Now, let us see how certain parts of Jung's descriptions relate to the Diva imagery. While Divas did not necessarily possess all of the anima characteristics described by Jung, they possessed most of them. To begin with they were feminine and sexual - Marilyn Monroe is just one example. The significance of femininity in Diva Worship was grounded in the fact that, prior to Stonewall, homosexuals were (and, unfortunately, still are) assigned a status of ersatz-women, and hence, as Daniel Harris writes, gay strength took its root in the feminine, not the masculine. (8) The sexual facet of Divas was important because the social stratification experienced by homosexuals resulted from their sexuality. Indeed, gay men adored the characters that were, akin to them, punished for their sexual transgressions. Most gay man in the audience felt incredibly sad watching Garbo throw herself under the train in Anna Karenina and thoroughly admired Leigh's guts for having three husbands in Gone with the Wind.
In addition to femininity and sexuality, exaggerated self-image was also a very strong Diva character trait. It seems that no one exemplified this particular facet of the anima function as well as Bette Davis. As Bronski writes Bette Davis' acting was "so stylized and mannered...[that her] mannerisms, speech, arching eyebrows, and gesturing hand, with her eternal cigarette, could make her a caricature." (9) Indeed, as far as Davis was concerned it was quite hard to say where one character stopped and another one began - every woman that she played seemed to be a part of something inhumanly grandiose. Gay men's collective attraction to the exaggeration facet of the anima function is, perhaps, even more evident through Camp, which Susan Sontag described as "a woman walking around in a dress made of three million feathers." (10) The psychological reasoning for exaggeration's lure could, probably, be linked to the persona-related issues that a typical homosexual faces. Most of pre-Stonewall gay men were faced with the challenge of creating personas that would mask their homosexuality. Hence the process of persona creation (or, in the Campy circles, "the star is born" phenomenon) became very interesting for gay men. Homosexuals identified not only with the on-screen Diva characters but also with the off-screen Diva actresses (however blurry that distinction might have been). Since exaggeration (exemplified by style) and artifice (makeup) became one of the key elements in transformation from one character to another - both of these dynamics became quite entrenched in the gay cultural consciousness. Eventually, image became more important than the person behind it - a natural occurrence if one considers the fact that it was the heterosexual image (and not the homosexual person) that determined one's success or failure in the surrounding environment.
Those anima characteristics that Jung collectively groups under the category of the "witch" can be seen in diva characters that gay men considered bitchy. What is important to mention, however, is that the word "bitch" has a somewhat negative connation: it is used one-sidedly to describe an egotistic woman who does not have any consideration for the people around her. What we must realize is that a bitch is not a one-sided purely negative being. In gay mythology, it is a woman who was hurt and decided that she will never be hurt again. Perhaps, this character was best exemplified by Vivien Leigh's Scarlet O'Hara standing in the glorious Southern sunset and firmly swearing that she would never be hungry again. The archetypal image of the bitch, or as Daniel Harris calls her, "vagina dentanta, always quick on her feet, always ready to demolish her opponent with a stunning rejoinder" is a hero of a pre-Stonewall homosexual. (11)
The anima function's ability to transform is quite evident in those diva characters that exhibit what some critics refer to as aesthetics of maladjustment": a philosophy that glorifies failure and turns it into "success." As the late Quentin Crisp maintained, one could fail so excessively that he/she would become instantaneously famous. He, of course, considered himself to be one of these splendidly faultered people and used to call himself a professional failure and say, "I don't believe in success, it doesn't suit me." (12) These "aesthetics" gave rise to the self-depreciating humour that became a trademark of what Bronski calls "the sidekick" character who was sarcastic and cleverly self-depreciating, having an almost innate ability to immediately transform her (and later his) desperation and sadness into something funny. (13)
The Significance of Projection Tendencies in Diva Worship
A discussion of the relationship between the negative anima function and Diva Worship would not be complete without briefly touching upon two of the following concepts: projection tendencies and libido energy. Let us first consider projections. Discussing the dynamics of anima operation, Jung wrote that since the anima image is unconscious, projections play a prominent role in its functioning. In fact, they are one of the chief reasons for an emotional reaction (or the absence thereof) to any given person. Since Diva Worship, by its very nature, is a product of emotional reactions directed to certain people, the projection dynamic must be a very important part of it. The importance of projections in Diva Worship is demonstrated through a performance technique adopted by a significant number of Diva actresses - active passivity - that allowed the audience to project their own emotions onto the Diva character. Out of all the Divas nobody was able to achieve such a high level of expertise in "active passivity" as Greta Garbo. (14) Upon seeing Garbo's portrait in one of the New York's galleries, Quentin Crisp, after taking off his landmark wide-brimmed hat in a sign of reverence, once commented, "Ah... Greta Garbo. She was the star even to other stars...She cultivated her remoteness, keeping her face so still that it became an icon on which everybody could plant their dreams." (15) Crisp's comment becomes even more interesting upon considering some of Jung's thoughts in respect to the projection dynamic in the anima function. Jung once wrote that:
There are certain types of women who seem to be made by nature to attract anima projections; indeed one could almost speak of a definite "anima type." The so-called "sphinx-like" character is an indispensable part of their equipment, also an equivocalness, and intriguing elusiveness... an indefiniteness that seems full of promises. (16)
It seems that, if we could include Jung's comment into some collection of critical reviews on Garbo's acting, few readers would realize that this paragraph was written on something quite unrelated to Garbo's acting technique.
The Libido Component of Diva Worship
Now, let us turn our attention to the libido component of the anima function. The strength of the sexual component in the anima-ego dynamic is reflected by the traditionally contra-sexual nature of the anima. In other words, a heterosexual man would normally feel sexual attraction towards a woman upon whom his anima is projected. The "rub" in the gay-anima relationship is that a homosexual man does not usually feel conscious sexual attraction towards a woman.
Here are two possible hypotheses on how the Hollywood Divas were able to overcome that "problem". The first hypothesis maintains that divas got themselves leading men, which became the objects of the anima-related sexual energy. Hence, Paul Newman carried a sexual component of Elizabeth Taylor in A Cat On A Hot Tin Roof. What is important to briefly discuss in the context of this hypothesis are the sexual dynamics between anima-Diva (incarnated by Taylor) and anima's sexual-male subject (incarnated by Paul Newman). Even though gay men were physically attracted to anima's sexual-male subject, that attraction stemmed not only because of that subject's (Newman's) physical beauty, but also because of his dependence on and subservience to anima-Diva (Taylor). In other words, the rise of libidinal energy occurred because of: (a) gay man's identification with anima function; (b) and his realization of the sexual power that this anima function had over her sexual-male subject. Thus, it is, specifically, the sexually vulnerable Newman that is of libidinal interest. Overall, these dynamics somewhat resemble a sadomasochistic relationship in which the viewer is attracted to the submissive partner (i.e., anima's sexual-male subject) whose passivity is a result of his counterpart's (i.e., anima's) activity. (We could further hypothesize that the need for the presence of a strong sexual power over a male as a part of the anima function (incarnated by a Diva) resulted from gay men's desire to "retaliate" (in a sexual way) against the "heterosexual oppressor.")
The second hypothesis maintains that in order to capture that anima-related libidinal component, the Divas significantly subdued their femininity and became somewhat androgynous. As Daniel Harris writes, Divas were "transformed into gay men, undergoing a strange sort of sex change operation from which they emerged as drag queens, as men in women's clothing, honorary butch homosexuals." (17) A specific example of that transformative process was Mae West who, in the opinions of a lot of gay men, was, actually, a man. Only after an autopsy confirmed her biological femininity did her fans change this long-standing conviction. (18)
The Negative Anima Function in Gay Politics
Indeed, after comparing Divas and negative anima function, we see that there are striking similarities between the two with respect to the degrees of effeminacy, sexuality, exaggeration, bitchiness, and, lastly, the "transformative" powers that have been attributed to them. The question which is of interest to me now is why would any group - especially one as decentralized and powerless as the pre-Stonewall queers -centre itself solely on the negative facet of anima. A plausible hypothesis that would provide an answer to this question is that the negative anima function provides stimuli necessary for personal development and prevents psychic passivity. Ann Yeoman suggests that a degree of entanglement is useful in so far as it creates a negative pole in the psyche and hence becomes the basis for conscious differentiation of the opposites. (19) (After all, where there is negative, there must be a complementary positive).
This hypothesis seems to be supported by a specific historical development - the Stonewall Riots. In June of 1969 several drag queens started a street brawl that eventually turned into one of the most important North American battles for equality -the gay rights movement. The "limp-wristed pansies" had had enough: they militantly opposed the continued police raids and took charge, causing the policemen to lock themselves up inside a bar waiting for reinforcements. (20) Everyone was shocked: the idea of a powerful homosexual was not something that could have been easily understood. How could a bunch of "queens" make "real men" fear for their lives? It is interesting to see that Daniel Harris links the Stonewall Riots to Diva worship. He writes that when drag queens finally fought back "they had on their minds... the shameless chutzpas of their film icons, whose gutsiness they were reenacting." (21) Looking at this event from the psychological perspective, we could say that negative anima function (personified through Divas) finally provided that stimulus that Yeoman talks about and caused gay men to fight back.
Deconstruction of the Negative Anima Function
Nevertheless, it seems that there is an important disadvantage associated with centering one's culture solely on the concept of negative anima function. After all, once this function provides the stimuli for differentiation, what else is left? Can, in fact, negative anima serve as a basis of a dynamic cultural form? I do not think so. The "defensive negativism" that gay men appropriated from Divas could no longer serve as an effective medium of defense. The public, the government, and the justice system wanted a more logical (perhaps, even animus-driven) rationale for accepting gay men into their circles. Ironically, the gay civil rights movement threatened the very existence of gay culture - a paradox that was nicely captured by Harvey Fierstein in his Tony-award winning tragicomedy The Torch Song Trilogy. During the opening scene Arnold Beckoff, the protagonist, who is a female impersonator, declares, "Once the ERA and gay civil rights bills have passed, me and mine will find ourselves swept under the carpets." (22) While negative anima was at the core of the pre-Stonewall gay culture, after Stonewall - if gays had a hope of retaining their uniqueness in the cultural melting pot of North American society - this anima had to be deconstructed.
Even though deconstruction is a rather abstract and symbolic activity, some gay literature deconstructs Divas in a very concrete and explicit manner. In John Weir's novel The Irreversible Decline of Eddie Socket one of the characters has a daydream about Elizabeth Taylor, who appears out of nowhere the moment he is about to enjoy a quiet bus ride. Before his very eyes, one of the goddesses of the Diva Temple literally pulls herself apart by first removing her contact lenses, then her chin, cheeks, breasts, left buttock, right kneecap, etc. After putting all of her prostheses into a bag she steps off the bus, disappearing into thin air (23) and taking with her the landmark of pre-Stonewall queer America - her negative anima appeal of seemingly mythical proportions.
As entertaining as The Irreversible Decline of Eddie Socket may be, there are two other gay cultural pieces that I would like to discuss at a greater depth. The first one is All About Eve by Joseph L. Mankiewicz - a cult 1950's film with an unprecedented following among gay circles. The second one is All About My Mother by Pedro Almodovar - a popular Spanish film released in 1999. In different ways both of these movies deal with the possible patterns of development of the positive anima function. Since, when analyzing anima dynamics, classical Jungian analysis frequently refers to the Psyche-Eros myth, it seems to me that it will be useful for us to do the same.
PART II: THE PSYCHE-EROS MYTH AND THE DECONSTRUCTION OF THE NEGATIVE ANIMA FUNCTION
Introduction
Let us quickly recall the myth's plot. At the beginning of the story Eros is a child who, just like any other child, identifies with his mother and tries to do things to please her. Specifically, he sets out on a mission to make Psyche, whose beauty upsets Aphrodite, fall in love with a monster. However, upon seeing how beautiful Psyche is, Eros himself feels attracted to her, and, concealing himself, marries her. Some time passes, and Psyche, thinking that she married a monster, lights up an oil lamp to see the face of her sleeping husband and accidentally spills some hot oil on Eros. This upsets him and he flees back to Aphrodite. To get Eros back, Psyche must satisfy Aphrodite by completing four rather impossible tasks. Psyche succeeds and, by the end of the story, she and Eros are re-united. However, at the end of the myth, Eros has matured and become a man. Overall, this myth can be interpreted as: a) a process of Eros's growth from being Aphrodite's child to Psyche's husband, and b) the relationship dynamics between a mature, well-established woman and an experienced girl who wants to succeed.
Simplifying Ann Bedford-Ulanov's and Erich Neumann's work on the Psyche-Eros myth, we can say that Eros represents the masculine ego, Aphrodite symbolizes the maternal unconscious, and Psyche depicts positive anima function. (24) It seems that, with some interpretive modifications, this myth can represent the development of contemporary gay culture.
First of all, let us further discuss the symbolic significance of the three characters mentioned above. Since we have been dealing with the negative anima function, the question before us concerns the character that represents this function in the Psyche-Eros myth. Even though, for the purpose of this argument, it would be convenient to reduce Aphrodite to negative anima function, it would be wrong to do so. Ulanov and Neumann effectively show that Aphrodite represents much more than that.
Indeed, I do partly concur with Ulanov and Neumann in regards to their Aphrodite description as the maternal unconscious. (25) However, I also believe that Aphrodite is also a carrier of negative anima function. This interpretation stems from an observation that, if we imagine the Aphrodite-Psyche-Eros relationship pictorially in a triangular form, we will see that Aphrodite would be on the top of that triangle closely controlling Psyche's and Eros's actions, and greatly influencing their path. Aphrodite, thus, is the Great Beginning that gives birth to both Eros (literally in her role as his mother) and Psyche (symbolically by making Psyche start out on her hero-journey). However, because of Psyche (who is, once again, symbolically born from Aphrodite), Aphrodite acts out negative anima. After all, it is after Psyche's appearance that Aphrodite becomes possessive, moody, hateful, suspicious, jealous, spiteful, etc.
Upon suggesting that Aphrodite acts out negative anima function, and agreeing with Ulanov's interpretation of Psyche as the personification of positive anima function, let us turn our attention to Eros. At the beginning of the myth, for Eros-The-Child, Aphrodite is "All." This "All" includes an already experienced, but yet undifferentiated anima function. Upon meeting Psyche, Eros realizes that another variation of anima function exists. He feels attracted to this new variation and forms a libidinal attachment to Psyche. (26) However, he realizes that his mother will be very upset with him, if she finds out about his new love interest. Hence, for Eros, Aphrodite eventually transforms into a devouring mother who does not want to let go of him. The difference between Psyche and Aphrodite is, then, not only in the form of anima function, but also in its energy. Eros splits anima energy into positive and negative. Psyche becomes identified with the positive component and Aphrodite with the negative one. Of course, at that moment, Aphrodite is much older, more experienced, and stronger than Psyche who is just a girl who needs to develop her positive prowess.
To gain further insight into the development of negative anima dynamic within Aphrodite, let us interpret the myth using our insights from the Diva Worship analysis conducted above. At the on-set of the myth, Aphrodite gets very upset since she feels threatened by Psyche's beauty. To make herself feel better, this ultimate Diva exercises her power and wants Eros to harm the object of her disaffection - Psyche. As the story progresses, Aphrodite gets more and more displeased. It seems fair to say that the irritation at the beginning of the myth grows into outright contempt, and, possibly, hate. Overall, in her relationship with Psyche, Aphrodite starts to show the ultimate degree of bitchiness. Would a "nice" person make someone: a) separate hundreds of different kinds of seeds into their proper categories; b) get a golden fleece; c) fill a crystal vessel with the spring water that flows from the highest mountains; and d) and descend to the Underworld to get the ointment of immortal beauty? Hardly.
The Psyche-Eros Myth and Gay Socio-Cultural Dynamics
Let us now apply this myth to the gay socio-cultural dynamics. Prior to Stonewall gay men - just like young Eros - had, so to speak, a cult of Aphrodite. Some of Aphrodite's traits (beauty, power, bitchiness, etc.) became legendary. After Stonewall, homosexuals realized that another life was possible and that they could grow, develop, and become fully functional members of their environment (symbolized by Psyche). In terms of the myth, they saw the beauty of Psyche, felt attracted to her, and, eventually, grew up, developing their own individual standpoints (symbolized by Eros - The - Man).
The problem with this interpretation is that the surrounding environment was definitely not that committed to homosexuals as Psyche was to Eros. Perhaps, then, a better way to interpret this myth is to identify Psyche not with the lure of the outside environment, but rather with a process of internal recognition that there is a positive alternative to pre-Stonewall stagnation. It is reasonable to assume that this internal recognition of an alternative to the Aphrodite-Cult would cause a subsequent attraction to this alternative: when a man grows, he - just like a flower reaching for the sun -strives towards philosophies built around positive concepts.
Psyche must have very strong anima energy to be able to compete with Aphrodite for Eros's affection. This degree of strength is not present in Psyche a priori, but is rather the potential that needs to be developed. This process of development is lengthy and challenging. It will only be complete after Psyche successfully meets four of the Aphrodite-sent challenges.
In terms of the cultural genesis, gay men's desire to move towards a positive environment (the desire, which, recall, is symbolized by Psyche) and to grow (a process for which I have suggested the symbol Eros-The-Man) must be strong enough to resist the pull of the previously occupied Diva Worship environment (which, as we have seen, took ground in negative anima energy). The four tasks could symbolize a series of internal and external challenges that gay men - as a cultural group - must face. Let us attempt to re-interpret Ulanov's analysis of these tasks in terms of the development of gay culture.
The Four Tasks of Psyche
Psyche's first task is to sort out hundreds of different kinds of seeds into their proper categories. Ulanov interprets the seeds as males' promiscuous tendencies, and Psyche's task as the need to prepare men's psyche to assume relatedness. In regards to promiscuity, gay men have long been associated with living sexually explicit lives. Where I disagree with Ulanov is in her assumption that promiscuity causes relatedness problems. What some people call "promiscuity" others call "sexual freedom." The teachings of abstinence from sex as a path of attaining wisdom (wisdom, which could be seen as a greater degree of relatedness) are just individual philosophies that some people agree with and adopt, while others do not. I am certain that a case can be made for sexually uninhibited people attaining a higher degree of relatedness as a result of the increased frequency of their sexual experience. It seems to me that Ulanov's view that in order for men to "grow" they must limit their sexuality is a view of a theorist grounded in a Judeo-Christian tradition. Hence, I cannot agree with her interpretation.
Different seeds could be alternatively interpreted as different opinions, thoughts, and views that a young gay man has during his coming out process. He stands on an unsure ground, an undiscovered country, knowing only what he has heard on television, read from newspapers, and was told in school and at home. He does not have his own individual viewpoint and he must use his instinctual forces (which, according to Ulanov, are represented by ants (27)) to help him to sort out the socially imposed opinions and to start getting in touch with his own feelings.
Psyche's second task is to get a golden fleece for Aphrodite. Following advice from the nearby reed, Psyche waits till sundown before gathering the wool from the bushes that sheep have grazed against. Ulanov interprets this task as depotentiation of the aggression of the male that destroys what it loves and as the refusal of anima to engage in a death struggle with that aggression. (28) In terms of gay culture, Psyche's second task can symbolize gay men's need to develop positive masculinity. There are those homosexuals, of course, who do not do that, and who - symbolically speaking -charge right at the grazing sheep and fight them for their fleece. They feel that the only way that they can successfully individuate is to integrate aggressive masculinity - and everything that is associated with it - into their personalities. J. Edgar Hoover and Roy Cohn are just two examples of an all-too-serious serious "over-achiever" complex that can drive some closeted gays into an unstoppable quest for power. There are yet other gay men who become involved in S/M, which to me seems as yet another demonstration of aggressive masculinity. In the popular culture, where gay men are robbed of their masculinity at the very moment they realize their unconvential sexuality, and where masculinity, in my opinion, is exemplified by hostile images, it is, indeed, a challenge to develop positive masculinity. And this problem is not just a "gay" problem. In a population where 90% of men have continued and enjoyable experiences with an opposite sex partner, it is a very "straight" problem as well. There is a need in our culture to integrate the aspects of positive masculinity (perhaps, symbolized by the image of the knight) with the traditionally present aggressive masculine aspects.
Psyche's third task is to fill a crystal vessel with the spring water that flows from the highest mountains so the rivers of the underworld may be fed. Ulanov interprets the water as the vital energy of the collective unconscious that the anima must give form to. (29) If the anima successfully performs this function, then the unconscious will be mediated to ego consciousness - a scenario that is, indeed, quite fortunate. (30) What is of special interest to me (and Ulanov) here is that in this task Psyche is assisted by Zeus's eagle. In the other myth, that particular eagle brought Ganymede to Zeus, arguably, the most famous homosexual in Greek mythology. In relation to Ulanov's earlier comment on the anima's role of mediating ego and the unconscious, the role of Zeus's eagle becomes even more interesting. The eagle could be interpreted as a symbol of spirituality. On the socio-cultural level, spirituality has long been embodied in myths. Gay mythology - the expression of the collective unconscious of gay men - is in undeniable need of exploration. By studying myths from the gay perspective, queer culture will be able to build upon a series of long-forgotten, but always present, collective concepts and, as a result, will enhance its spiritual dimension. After all, how can a dynamic cultural form develop without basing itself on the most prized possessions of human kind - the age-old myths? Mythology has such an abundance of material to offer to post-Stonewall gay culture!
Psyche's fourth and final task is, perhaps, the most difficult one. Indeed, the journey to the underworld scares and depresses her so much that she almost commits suicide. What especially interests me, is that while completing this task, Psyche faces the challenge of resisting three weaving women. Ulanov interprets these women as the representations of the world of fantasy, wishes, and make-believe. (31) According to her interpretation, if Psyche succumbs to these weavers she will not be able to serve reality. (32) The theme of fantasy and make-believe appears throughout the gay cultural manifestations. Faced with a pre-Stonewall adversity of their homophobic surroundings, some gay men felt the need to escape reality, to "camp it up," to transform it into something more beautiful and accepting of them. (33) However, being aware of their psychic processes, they also realized that the fantasy world could not possibly be the medium where the successful individuation process would happen. This gradual awareness of the importance of a vital connection to reality was reflected in All About Eve and All About My Mother.
PART III: ALL ABOUT EVE
Similarly to the Psyche-Eros myth, All About Eve can be interpreted as the story of positive anima function development. The difference between the two stories lies in their endings: unlike Psyche, Eve fails in developing her positive anima powers.
First, however, let us quickly recall the plot of All About Eve. The movie tells the story of Eve Harrington, an aspiring young actress, who through a series of lies, manages to use the great theatre star Margo Channing, Margo's boyfriend-director Bill Sampson, Margo's playwright Lloyd Richards and his wife Karen Richards, to achieve career success. Overall, the movie can be interpreted to exemplify the dynamics of a relationship between a mature, powerful theatre veteran (Margo) and a young, inexperienced, girl who wants to become successful (Eve).
Throughout the film there are plenty of subtle references that evoke the mythical proportions of the characters. Perhaps, the most powerful of these references occurs when Margo describes the theatre as the place where "all religions of the world [are] rolled into one" and actors and actresses are "gods and goddesses." Margo, in fact, could be said to be a personification of Aphrodite. After all, similarly to Aphrodite at the beginning of the Psyche-Eros myth, Margo starts out as an extremely well established woman who is adored by everyone around her. Like Aphrodite, Margo is full of negative anima dynamics. She is a bitch: "Have you no human consideration?" someone asks her. "Show me a human and I might have!" she exclaims. She is moody: "Buckle up, it's going to be a bumpy night," she announces in her, arguably, most famous one-liner. She is miserable: "That's me. And Old Kazoo and some sparkles," she bitterly says to the theatre critic god Addison DeWitt. She is spiteful: "Bill's thirty-two. He looks thirty-two. He looked it five years ago. He'll look it twenty years from now. I hate men," she says to Lloyd after having a fight with Bill. As we will see later, she is the mistress of exaggeration, artifice, and performance and, hence, has an incredibly hard time differentiating between Margo-The-Actress and Margo-The- Woman.
By the end of the film, however, it is clear that Eve turns out to be a better performer than Margo. Nonetheless, at the beginning, Eve is weak. Just like Psyche who could be said to have a mother-daughter dynamic with Aphrodite (see above for a more detailed explanation), Eve, for whatever reason, stimulates Margo's mother instincts. And, just like Psyche who is performing tasks for Aphrodite, Eve is running errands for Margo. In fact, Eve becomes Margo's personal assistant and tends to her every spoken and unspoken need. In Margo's own words, Eve becomes her "sister, lawyer, mother, friend, psychiatrist, and cop." Soon, however, this assistant transforms from a "stage-struck kid" and "a young lady of qualities" into Margo's saboteur, studying her as if she were "a play or a blueprint."
Indeed, for Eve everything is a play. She seems to be a re-incarnation of Maya: carefully planning her fantasy dance. Margo, Bill, Lloyd, Karen - everyone but Addison DeWitt is bewitched by Eve's performance. For all of Eve's malice, she is such a skillful illusion-maker that she herself can no longer differentiate between fantasy and reality. "Somehow acting and make-believe began to fill up my life more and more. It got so, that I couldn't tell the real from the unreal except that the unreal seemed more real to me," she says to Margo, Bill, Lloyd and Karen soon after meeting them. Her love for theatre is of a profoundly religious nature. "If there's nothing else - there's applause. It's like - like waves of love coming over the footlights and wrapping you up. Imagine...To know, every night, that different hundreds of people love you... they smile, their eyes shine- you've pleased them, they want you, you belong. Just that alone is worth anything," she declares. Not until the very end, with "the venomous fishwife"-DeWitt's brutal and vicious confrontation, does her fantasy world crash into pieces.
Eve's biggest fantasy is to become the new queen of the theatre. While Psyche sets out on her own individuation journey, Eve does the opposite of that. Eve's strategy for Margo's dethronement is not the development of her own positive strengths, but rather an appropriation - on a psychological level - of Margo's illusion making power, bitchiness, exaggeration, and, later, moodiness and self-misery, and - on a material level - Margo's girlfriend, playwright, and critic. Eve, hence, becomes a new Diva, negative anima function in a different form, an Aphrodite re-born.
In the end, Eve gets almost everything she wants - Lloyd's play, Bill's directorship, Addison's critical approval - but she is still discontent. It turns out, no doubt quite unexpectedly for her, that theatre does not bring her happiness. In my opinion, this happens because negative anima function that Eve personifies does not support the relatedness that, in turn, is one of the necessary components of happiness. Eve, of course, is incapable of relatedness, and hence she faces the danger of betraying life. We might not see every step of Eve's demise - but we also do not need to. We know that what happened to Margo will invariably happen to Eve. Eve's fall is only a matter of time - and it is not long before that time comes. The movie ends with an image of Phoebe, a young and seemingly innocent girl - a reincarnation of Eve at the beginning of the film - succeeding in becoming Eve's assistant, and, effectively, marking the beginning of Eve's downfall.
The task before us now, is to suggest why theatre causes Eve's ultimate personal failure. However, since there are parallels among Eve, Margo, and gay men, we should make sure to include all three of them into our discussion.
The metaphor of theatre - that is central to the movie and, arguably, to gay culture--is not a metaphor of relatedness. In the words of Addison DeWitt "theatre folk" are "a breed apart from the rest of humanity... the original displaced personalities." This comment makes perfect sense if we assume that the concept of performing is based on: a) the separation of an actor and the role; b) the necessity to put on the role to please the public; c) the invisible wall separating the stage from the audience. Even though actors in All About Eve understand the public well enough to win its applause, they fail to truly relate to their audiences. Some of them, Margo included, simply cannot stand them. When Karen tells Margo that Eve - Margo's most devout fan - would like to meet her, Margo becomes furious. "Autograph fiends! They're not people - those little beasts who run in packs like coyotes - they are nobody's fans! They're juvenile delinquents, mental defectives, they're nobody's audience, they never see a play or a movie, even -they're never indoors long enough!" she exclaims.
The problem that Margo, Eve, and some pre-Stonewall (and, perhaps, even some post-Stonewall) gay men face lies in their inability to stop acting. Reality--the medium necessary for relatedness--is absent from their palette. Artifice takes precedence, and performance destroys life. On a psychological level, negative anima leads people "away from the individually human situation" and contributes to human relatedness only when "the persons concerned share the same mood or fantasy." (34) There is no question that on a certain stage of their respective developments, acting is vital for Margo, Eve, and some gay men: Margo and Eve need fame, gay men need safety. However, there comes a time when Margo wants love and gay men want to have a life outside their immediate gay community - and this is precisely when relatedness is vital and performance is meddlesome.
Margo cannot differentiate between theatre and life. In Lloyd's words she "overplays reality." She does it so well that she risks losing Bill. "You know there isn't a playwright in the world that could make me believe this could happen between two adult people," he tells her, involuntarily making an allusion to the superb quality of her performance as the "Unreachable Woman." Theatre is of paramount importance to her. "Margo just doesn't miss performances. If she can walk, crawl or roll - she plays," Karen comments. Moreover, without the show there is no Margo Channing. And Margo is intelligent enough to realize it. "More than anything in this world, I love Bill. And I want Bill. I want him to want me. But not Margo Channing. And if I can't tell them apart - how can he? ... Ten years from now Margo Channing will have ceased to exist... and what's left will be what?" she asks Karen. She knows that if she wants a measure of personal success, she must change, she must reclaim her positive femininity. In, perhaps, the most famous monologue of the film, Margo laments: "The things you drop on your way up the ladder, so you can move faster. You forget you'll need them again when you go back to being a woman. That's one career all females have in common - whether we like it or not - being a woman." And, wanting to be happy, Margo makes the only choice that is available to her - she leaves the theatre, passing on the ropes to Eve.
Eve, naturally, gladly accepts them. Everything is going according to her fantasy: not only does she get the long-wanted role of Cora in Lloyds' new play, but she is also on the way to get Lloyd himself. She is ready for a new frontier: a road paved not with diamonds and gold, but with stars. It is the ruthless and unfeeling Addison DeWitt who pulls Eve out of her dream and brings her back to reality. With a dose of hard-hearted realism he mercilessly announces that he knows Eve for what she is: an illusion-maker. "Look closely, Eve. It's time you did. I am Addison DeWitt. I'm nobody's fool. Least of all yours," he tells her and exposes all of her lies one by one. He will not have her run away with Lloyd - she must belong to him. "You're an improbable person, Eve, and so am I. We have that in common. Also a contempt for humanity, an inability to love or be loved, insatiable ambition - and talent. We deserve each other," he says to a reality-stricken Eve who realizes that she has failed: her fantasy is over and there is no happiness for her in the real world.
Similarly to Margo and Eve, prior to Stonewall, many gay men faced a social challenge of developing a conscious relationship to "reality". Camp - perhaps, the most prevalent form of pre-Stonewall gay sensibility - could not coincide with this reality: one of its building principles was escapism. Nonetheless, in-order to be Margo, Eve - and Camp, for that matter - one must have an acute understanding of the reality that one tries to run away from (laconically, one must know one's enemy). As Ann Yeoman points out, fantasy always exists in relation to reality - the one constellates the other. (35) Gay men's knowledge of reality left room for a possibility of genuinely relating to it. And, after Stonewall, gay men made many strides on this path of relatedness.
PART IV: ALL ABOUT MY MOTHER
Pedro Almodovar fictionalized a possible journey on this path in All About My Mother, a film that heavily bases itself on two pre-Stonewall landmarks of gay culture: Mankiewicz's All About Eve and Tennessee Williams's A Streetcar Named Desire. Let us quickly recall All About My Mother's plot. Manuela, a single mother and an amateur actress, sees Esteban, her 17-year old son, die in a road accident as he tries to get the autograph of Huma Rojo, the great theatre Diva and the star of A Streetcar Named Desire. Deeply distressed, she leaves Madrid for Barcelona with the hope of finding Estaban's father, now a transvestite prostitute named Lola. In Barcelona Manuela is re-united with her former friend La Agrado, another transvestite prostitute, who tells her that an AIDS stricken Lola has run away somewhere. Unable to go back to Madrid, Manuela stays with La Agrado and befriends Sister Rosa, a local nun committed to helping transvestite prostitutes. Shortly thereafter she once again meets Huma and, by happenstance, becomes her assistant. Meanwhile Sister Rosa announces her pregnancy with Lola's child. Unable to take care of herself, Rosa asks for Manuela's help, and Manuela reluctantly agrees to become her full-time caregiver, quitting her work with Huma. When Sister Rosa dies in labour, Manuela leaves Madrid for Barcelona to raise Rosa's child.
Let us begin our analysis with Esteban. It is hard for gay men not to like him: he is a handsome young man with interests that are quite akin to those of most homosexuals. He loves literature: his birthday present is Truman Capote's Music for Chameleons. He is fascinated with All About Eve and becomes very upset when the Spanish television incorrectly translates the title of this movie. He adores theatre: he patiently waits in the rain to get Huma Rojo's autograph. It seems fair to say that a lot of gay men identify with Esteban. The question that interests me is why this initially popular character is killed so soon after the beginning of the film?
It seems to me that on a psychological level Esteban's death results from negative anima function. In All About My Mother this function is personified by two people: Huma and Manuela. Huma, whose autograph Esteban desperately wants, is not a simple actress: she is the Prima Donna of Spanish theatre - the ultimate Diva. The fact that Esteban is killed while running after her can be interpreted as a message that Diva Worship stagnates one's growth and development.
Esteban is killed by a car, a symbol for speed and progress - two concepts that he cannot relate to because of Manuela's devouring aspect. Manuela keeps Esteban cloistered and alienated from the outside world: at 17 he celebrates his birthday not with his friends but with her. She is the chief object of his interest. As a writer he is only interested in her: "All About My Mother" is, in fact, the title of his journal. There is even some evidence of a libidinal component at play: Esteban asks Manuela if she would ever prostitute herself for his sake.
Esteban truly suffers because Manuela does not tell him anything about his father. Being intelligent and perceptive, he understands that a crucial masculine component is missing from his life, and helplessly searches for it. The only way, however, that this masculine component can develop is through a connection with positive femininity. (Recall that it is Psyche - Positive - Anima who must collect the ram's wool). As Ann Yeoman says, it is the Feminine - through its interconnection with the base matrix/patrix - that gives rise to the masculine. (36) The differentiation force originates in the Mother, and the Mother cannot be devouring if this differentiation is to be successful. So Manuela must learn how to develop the positive anima energy: even though she does not know it, in less than a year, a new Esteban will be born for her.
As was mentioned earlier, Manuela's journey takes her to Barcelona. Seeing that A Streetcar Named Desire is performing there, she is overpowered by her wish to see Huma. This desire could be said to stem from Manuela's unconscious need to punish the Diva who caused Esteban's death. Similar to Eve who wants to dethrone Margo, Manuela befriends Huma. In a matter of weeks, Manuela becomes Huma's personal assistant, and finally appears in A Streetcar.
What is significant is that, even though both Manuela and Eve have the same task of dethroning a Diva, they do it in very different ways. While Eve uses negative anima energy to fight with Margo, Manuela's weapon is positive anima energy. Eve is the illusion-maker. Manuela, after Esteban's death and the Madrid experience that follows, is firmly grounded in reality. The importance of reality in her life can be seen through studying a series of acting performances she has as an amateur actress. One of the opening scenes of the movie is Manuela playing a grief stricken widow in the "Organ Donation" simulation - a role that she knows nothing about since she has not yet faced the grief of losing her son. Then, Manuela transforms into a pragmatic and realistic Stella - a part, which is a startling contrast to Huma's fantasy-bound Blanche. By the end, she seems to abandon acting all together. To raise her new child, Manuela leaves Madrid's theatre world and goes back to Barcelona. In other words, Manuela -The - Actress turns into Manuela - The - Mother.
Nonetheless, Manuela does not understand the importance of reality - a key component of relatedness - a priori. It is rather a lesson that she must learn through Esteban's death and her experience in Madrid. In Madrid, her primary teacher is La Agrado. One of La Agrado's roles is to be a mediatrix between fantasy and reality. Her entire life is a kind of dramatic spectacle (37) where she always finds herself on a stage, with a spotlight, adored by the public. (Her name "La Agrado" means "to please" in Spanish.) La Agrado, however, unlike Eve, Margo, or Huma does not live the role. She remains grounded in realty, acutely observing and commenting on the world around her: it is the only way that she can keep her sanity in her never-ending journey between theatre and life. Authenticity is of paramount importance to her, and her multiple plastic surgeries are not an instrument of illusion, but rather an apparatus that helps to bring out an "authentic" woman in her.
On a certain level La Agrado is similar to DeWitt in that both of them are blunt, witty, and extremely clever critics. DeWitt, however, does not have a capacity for love and, hence, relatedness. La Agrado, on the other hand, does. She is a former whore and as such brings out sensuality, instinct, and feeling - three components arguably necessary for the successful development of relatedness.
In addition to the lesson of relatedness, Manuela, like Psyche, also learns the importance of spirituality and positive masculinity. Sister Rosa contributes to Manuela's understanding of spirituality. Rosa's greatest virtue is patience and love. As a nun she divides her time between the prostitute ring where she gives out condoms and the rehabilitation centre where she helps drug addicts. Rosa is Madonna personified: pure, kind, and compassionate. Her desire to alleviate suffering is so great that she has sex with HIV positive Lola, Manuela's ex-husband and Esteban's father, while Lola is trying to combat her drug addiction. Upon getting pregnant, Rosa, being unafraid of her closed-minded parents, gives birth to a child and dies in the process. Her last wish is that the child be named Esteban Jr. after Manuela's killed son.
With the help of La Agrado, Manuela gets further insight into masculine/feminine dynamics - and insight that she needs to become a successful mother. La Agrado is a transvestite -a former truck driver who underwent a number of extensive plastic surgeries to become a woman. Being a transvestite, she demonstrates a complex intertwining link between the feminine and the masculine. In a movie where there are no psychologically mature male characters this link could be interpreted as carrying an important message of maintaining psychological balance between the psychological forces of yin and yang. It is precisely this balance that Manuela is unable to give to Esteban who helplessly searches for it in the beginning of the film.
It is Manuela's well-developed relatedness abilities - not her lying and backstabbing - that dethrone Huma-The-Diva. Huma (like Margo in All About Eve) undergoes dramatic personal change. At the beginning of the film Huma struggles with differentiating reality from fantasy. She is Blanche from A Streetcar Named Desire both in and out of the theatre. Her stage image is blown out of proportion: the performance bill-board is the theatre's wall with a gigantic photograph of her as Blanche. She uses the play's dialogue both on and off stage: "I've always depended on kindness of strangers," she weakly tells Manuela when she helps her to find Nina, Huma's junkie lover. Being intelligent, Huma desperately searches for an alternative. She realizes that her life - modeled after Bette Davis - is nothing but smoke, and her stage name ("Huma" means "smoke") is a constant reflection of this. Befriending Manuela and La Agrado, Huma realizes the importance of reality, and grows. At the end of the film she is no longer a self-destructive Blanche, but a reality-stricken Mother from Lorca's Blood Wedding
To summarize, we can perceive All About My Mother as a film that deals with the successful development of positive anima function. Esteban Jr. can be said to represent post-Stonewall gay ego identity. (Recall that this identity was represented by Eros-The-Man in the Psyche-Eros myth analysis). Huma and Manuela-The-Actress could be interpreted as representations of pre-Stonewall Divas. In order for Esteban Jr. to exist, Manuela (like Psyche) must develop her positive anima function to dethrone Huma. This process begins when the tragedy of Esteban's (pre-Stonewall gay identity) death takes Manuela to Madrid. In Madrid, she meets La Agrado who - through her acting and transvestism - helps her to understand the importance of reality and positive masculinity, as well as Sister Rosa who - through her constant self-sacrifice - provides Manuela with valuable examples of spirituality. As a result of her experiences, Manuela learns and develops positive anima energy, which, in turn, dethrones Huma. Almodovar ends his film with a bright message of hope for the future. As we find out at the very end, Esteban Jr. - Manuela's new son - becomes the first child to successfully overcome the AIDS virus. The negative anima deconstruction is complete: new Esteban represents the beginnings of a new era of higher inner awareness.
Conclusion
Indeed, as it turned out, my initial worry regarding the lack of personifications and applications of the anima function was baseless. My exposition grew as I became amazed by the numerous manifestations of the anima dynamic in gay North America. As Jung himself said anima is the archetype of life, (38) and when one starts to study such a complex phenomenon as anima, one naturally sees an almost infinite number of her manifestations in the surrounding environment.
What I found out in my study is that gay men have had an extraordinary relationship with the anima function for a long time. Before Stonewall, gay culture centered itself around Diva Worship - a phenomenon that could be explained in terms of the negative anima function. After Stonewall, driven by desire to develop and taught by the sad lesson of Eve from All About Eve, gay men - like Psyche in the Psyche-Eros Myth and Manuela in All About My Mother--focused on developing their conscious relationship to a positive anima function.
In conclusion, let us recall four stages of the anima function: Hawwah, Helen, Virgin Mary, and Sophia. (39) The pre-Stonewall period, symbolized by Aphrodite, Margo-The-Actress, Huma as Streetcar's Blanche, and Manuela - The - Actress, seems to be related to the "Hawwah" and "Helen" stages that represent anima as the biological mother and the libidinal interest. The post-Stonewall period, symbolized by Psyche, Margo-The-Woman, Huma as Blood Wedding's Mother, and Manuela - The - Mother, seems to be related to the "Virgin Mary" stage, for, in the post-Stonewall period, gay men dethroned the Diva and replaced her with the Spiritual Mother.
What is of interest to me, now, is how gay men will - on a socio-cultural level -deal with the challenge of developing a conscious relationship to anima as "Sophia." Perhaps, an answer to this question lies in the current and future response of gay culture to the AIDS epidemic - a dynamic that is, without a doubt, in need of further exploration.
© Alexandre Beliaev 2002.
E-mail: This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.
ENDNOTES
1. Ann Bedford Ulanov, The Feminine in Jungian Psychology and in Christian Theology, (Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1971),38-39. Subsequent parenthetical references will be to this edition.
2. William Haviland, Cultural Anthropology, (Toronto: Harcourt Brace College Publishers, 1993), 31
3. Paul Roen, High Camp, (San Franciso: Leyland Publications, 1997), 18.
4. James Hillman, Anima: An Anatomy Of A Personified Notion, (Dallas: Spring Publications, 1984), 11-13. Subsequent parenthetical references will be to this edition.
5. James Hillman, Anima: An Anatomy Of A Personified Notion, 53.
6. James Hillman, Anima: An Anatomy Of A Personified Notion, 26-27.
7. James Hillman, Anima: An Anatomy Of A Personified Notion, 35.
8. Daniel Harris, The Rise and Fall of Gay Culture, (New York: Hyperion, 1997), 15. Subsequent parenthetical references will be to this edition.
9. Michael Bronski, Culture Clash. The Making of Gay Sensibility, (Boston: South End Press, 1984), 99. Subsequent parenthetical references will be to this edition.
10. Susan Sontag, Notes on 'Camp', in Camp. Queer Aesthetics and The Performing Subject: A Reader, ed. Fabio Cleto (Edinburgh University Press, 1999), 59.
11. Daniel Harris, The Rise and Fall of Gay Culture, 15.
12. Quentin Crisp, Resident Alien, dir. Jonathan Nossiter, with John Hurt, Felicity Mason, Sting, 1990. Subsequent parenthetical references will be to this film.
13. Michael Bronski, Culture Clash. The Making of Gay Sensibility, 102.
14. For the discussion see Michael Bronski, Culture Clash. The Making of Gay Sensibility, 97.
15. Quentin Crisp, Resident Alien.
16. James Hillman, Anima: An Anatomy Of A Personified Notion, 54.
17. Daniel Harris, The Rise and Fall of Gay Culture, 12.
18. Michael Bronski, Culture Clash. The Making of Gay Sensibility, 98.
19. Ann Yeoman, Dean of Students, New College in the University of Toronto, Personal Interview, April, 2002. Subsequent parenthetical references will be to this interview.
20. Michael Bronski, Culture Clash. The Making of Gay Sensibility, 2.
21. Daniel Harris, The Rise and Fall of Gay Culture, 14.
22. Harvey Fierstein, The Torch Song Trilogy, (New York: Random House, 1983), 11.
23. As described in Daniel Harris, The Rise and Fall of Gay Culture, 23.
24. Ann Bedford Ulanov, The Feminine in Jungian Psychology and in Christian Theology, 215-219.
25. Ibid, 217.
26. Ibid, 218.
27. Ibid, 233.
28. Ibid, 233-234.
29. Ibid, 234.
30. Ibid.
31. Ibid, 237.
32. Ibid, 236-237.
33. An excellent essay on the subject is Richard Dryer's It's Being So Camp as Keeps Us Going, in Camp. Queer Aesthetics and the Performing Subject: A reader, ed. Fabio Cleto. Edinburgh University Press, 1999.
34. James Hillman, Anima: An Anatomy Of A Personified Notion, 39.
35. Ann Yeoman, personal interview.
36. Ibid.
37. Gwynne Edwards, Amodovar: Labyrinths of Passion (London: Peter Owen, 2001), 192.
38. James Hillman, Anima: An Anatomy Of A Personified Notion, 56.
39. James Hillman, Anima: An Anatomy Of A Personified Notion, 20.
{/viewonly}
