Why is it that there is often something oddly appealing about the idea of violence? Not so much actual violence, but simply the idea of it. Is this a uniquely American thing, derived from our revolutionary and manifest-destiny seeking history? Or is it some fundamentally human impulse? Does everyone feel it occasionally? Are all women attracted to “the bad boy” on some level? Is this fascination a luxury only available to those, like myself, who have been fortunate enough never to experience real violence?
I just find it strange to recognize this part of myself, because I consider myself (mostly) a pacifist, and I can’t imagine raising my hand (much less a weapon) to anyone in violence. I have a HOT temper, but it takes a lot for me even to lash out verbally at someone. (Mostly, I just unload on poor Nate after the fact or yell out my frustrations at stupid drivers who can’t hear me.) Even in self-defense, I don’t know if I’d actually be able to harm another human being; I fear I’d end up on the dead end of a self-defense scenario.
However, I notice that a lot of my entertainment choices are surprisingly violent. I’m a big fan of The Sopranos, 24, and Heroes. I recently saw The Departed and absolutely loved it, much as I did another violent Scorsese classic, Goodfellas. One of my all-time favorite film scenes is the fight early in Good Will Hunting where Will and his friends have a brawl with a group of thugs who’d been verbally harrassing a girl. It’s shown in slow motion, each punch, kick and head snap exaggerated, with Gerry Rafferty’s “Baker Street” playing hauntingly in the background. And last night, I found myself oddly enthralled by The Black Donnellys premier (prompting this post) and was particularly attracted to Tommy, the smart, thoughtful one with a hand of steel but a conflicted soul. Wathcing it, I was reminded of the scene in the aforementioned Goodfellas where Henry violently beats and pistol whips a man who had assaulted his girlfriend, Karen. When Henry gives her the bloody gun to hide, Karen’s voice over says, “I know there are women who would have gotten out the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide. But I didn’t. I got to admit the truth. It turned me on.”
Of course, the difference here is that I am truly only attracted to the idea of violence. If my (purely hypothetical) boyfriend gave me a gun to hide, I WOULD run the other way. Violence in reality scares me to death. But there is something about fictional violence that makes my pulse race a little. And it’s certainly not the gore; I actually turn my head at gore. But I guess if I think about it, the common thread is that I’m attracted to violence with a “good” purpose, like in 24 or Heroes. And that definition extends in some strange way to shows and movies about organized crime because so much of the violence is perpetrated out of a sense of honor. A warped sense of honor, no doubt, but perhaps it’s the Irish in me that finds the idea of defending one’s honor with violence vaguely noble.
In any case, this is something I often ponder when I’ve indulged myself in some violence-laden film or show. It actually bothers me quite a bit because I don’t want to find violence appealing, and because I wonder how much violent entertainment does relate to desensitization, which in turn creates real violence and/or apathy toward real violence. Who knows? But it’s both interesting and disturbing to consider.
November 6, 2009 at 2:20 pm
Hi Michelle,
I just came across this post while looking for something–anything–in the blogosphere that might help me understand my own emotional reactions to the fight scene in “Good Will Hunting” and romanticized movie violence in general. I’m glad I found your post because it’s excellent, probing, and beautifully written! It’s comforting to know that someone else has had the exact same reactions to this kind of movie violence, despite being–as I am, too (right down the line)–a liberal-pacifist-Irish-Catholic who doesn’t like real violence. And I think you have good insight: there’s something appealing about this kind of honor. I thought honor didn’t apply to me anymore, but you’re making me think it does, at some level.
But I also like the way you continue to ponder this question, and don’t pretend to have it all figured out. I agree: this violence appeal is a genuine mystery. In fact, I notice that many of your posts are powered by this refreshing spirit of openness to genuine questions. So have you had any more thoughts on the appeal of movie violence, and perhaps that “Good Will Hunting” scene in particular? If you have, please let me know, because I’m really curious!
In the GWH scene at least, part of the appeal for me is certainly the juxtaposition of those hard, brutal punches with the decidedly soft music of Gerry Rafferty’s “Baker Street.” That song brings me right back to my summers in Boston, esp during my high school years (when that song was on the radio a lot, while I painted houses). I call this “aestheticized violence” because it’s violence seen through the prism of beauty. It reminds me of baseball: violence, but at a distance, violence turned into ballet. (Someone once described baseball as a man on a hill throws a rock at another man with a stick.) And in these movie scenes of violence put to music it seems like we’re experiencing the Life Force that throbs through male violence…but made orderly and beautiful. Male and female, Apollonian and Dionysian? I don’t know…
By the way, if you ever want to give your blog a subtitle (given your concern in one post about making snappy titles), I might suggest “Rain Drops of the Heart and Mind.” But like you, I’m not into pithy (as you can see!), and whatever you title the posts, I appreciate what you’re doing here.
Thanks.
–Peter
November 6, 2009 at 9:01 pm
Hi, Peter! Thanks so much for your reply. I have to admit, I’d nearly forgotten this blog existed – it’s been ages since I wrote in it. But your comments drew me back and got me poking around again and made me realize – I miss writing. My life has been so chaotic in the last couple of years that it’s fallen by the wayside. Not that I was ever a prolific writer – but still, I enjoy it. I have so many thoughts rolling around in my head, and it feels good to get them out. And it felt very validating to read your thoughtful (and complimentary!) comments.
To answer your question, no, I really haven’t thought much more about it in the last 2.5 years. I wish my blog were more widely read, because I really do wonder if this is common among women. We’re supposedly the “gentler sex” and all, and yet the attraction to the “bad boy” is such a common theme in fiction. Is it true in reality, too? Or is all that fiction really just representative of what I was mentioning above – an attraction to fake violence, but an aversion to real violence.
And then I wonder, too, about the American element of this. I read a book in grad school that I can’t remember the name of for anything right now, but it was about the role that violence and conquest play in American history and mythology. And the thesis was that, although we are ostensibly a very civilized society now, violence still permeates our culture, even if it’s often been muted into things like football and video games – things that *represent* violence, but aren’t violent in the sense of truly trying to harm another human being. (Of course, people do often get hurt playing football, but that’s not the main goal – more a side effect of trying to achieve the main goal.) Then again, look at how violent sporting events become in Europe and Latin America! A Packers vs. Vikings game seems downright civilized by comparison. Perhaps violence is simply part of the human condition.
I really liked your term “aestheticized violence.” It got me thinking – perhaps what’s so appealing about violence is the PASSION it represents. I think Thoreau was not so far off when he said “the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.” Perhaps it’s a touch melodramatic, but really – how many people are living in a comfortable groove, but not doing anything that really ignites their soul? Who feels genuinely EXCITED to wake up everyday? I doubt many people could honestly answer yes to both of those questions. (Which isn’t the same thing as saying they’re not happy. I consider myself fairly happy, but I can’t say that I would answer yes to those questions. My life is comfortable – but staid.) Perhaps violence, especially the artistic or recreational form, gives us a subtle adrenaline rush that is otherwise missing from most of our lives.
Ah, thank you for giving me the chance to chew on something deeply philosophical for a few minutes. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll resurrect this blog.
November 7, 2009 at 1:29 pm
Hi Michelle,
Thanks for this reply! I’m sorry to hear you haven’t been writing in your blog in these last couple years because we–or at least I–need more writers like you. I’m just starting to explore the whole blog thing, and I’ve never even subscribed to a blog, but I’ll make a deal with you: if you resume your blog, I’ll subscribe to it! (I’m currently signed up to get email notification of any comments on this entry–a nice feature, since I don’t check any blogs regularly.) Of course the best incentive for you to continue is already there in what you just said in this new message: you’ve got lots of thoughts bouncing around and you enjoy getting them into written form.
Either way (I know life gets in the way), I appreciated these most recent thoughts about the violence question…And I especially like what you said about PASSION. I hadn’t thought of it that way, but that sure makes good sense. It’s weird but true: violence just goes hand in hand with passion, really caring about something, and it shatters those little comfortable routines we all get into. Great point! (And of course this is not to say most of us will act on it…)
Perhaps I missed this because I have a bit of a Passion Blind Spot. To be honest (and not to sound sappy), I’m a pretty hyper person, and I’m lucky to be madly in love with my wife and absolutely enthralled by my job as a college prof (cultural anthropology). During the school year, I literally can’t sleep well many nights because I’m excited about some new teaching idea that I’ll be trying out that coming day, or I’m still reviewing in my mind the twists and turns and implications of some wild class discussion from the day before.
…and, yet, I could probably use shaking up as much as anybody, and violence would be one way to do that–or at least the idea of it seems appealing at some level. I work with books and ideas…but there’s something missing: I don’t get to punch big mean guys in the face! I’ve thought about this lately–just how good it would feel to land a solid first punch, and then keep on throwing hard punches. (Sounds terrible, I know.) Of course it would have to be some truly bad guy who deserved it–some strong tough guy who was really threatening one of my Mexican friends, or my family, or some woman at the bus stop, or something like that.
And I’d want to be sure that, as in the movies, it would all happen and end with that one fist fight, and the guy wouldn’t then seek revenge on me for the next 15 years. I say this mainly for practical reasons (then I’d really lose sleep!), but maybe that’s one of the other emotional satisfactions of these movie depictions of violence: they’re finite and fixed. It’s like what you said about history “(I had a revelation”): this fixity is a balm to the chaos of the present day, the pain and burden of the empathy that comes with present problems. And that’s the great appeal of narrative: it brings order to this chaos.
The other problem is that you usually find out eventually that these mean dudes have a story, too, that they were maybe hurt themselves, and then you can’t feel as good about punching them. Dang it!:) Anyway, I don’t know why, but that fight fantasy has run through my head a lot in the last few years…
As for the other questions you raise, I do think that we Americans have a strong streak of violence in our culture…but in my readings and personal experience (in Latin America and Europe), violence is really common, if not a human universal. Not to say “human nature” is inherently violent–just that it’s in there somewhere, along with cooperation and sharing impulses, which are just as strong, if not stronger. But every culture and group then shapes violence in specific ways, which is probably where that book you were reading comes in (re the American cultural forms of violence).
And I would hope that other readers could comment on the “bad boy” appeal. That makes sense to me–as we’re saying, danger and difference are exciting–and I’ve heard this before, but not sure how it plays out in individual lives (movies, fantasies, etc.).
So what did you study in grad school? History? And did that experience advance your spirit of inquiry and genuine reflection? I hope so! I know folks who start that way and then find grad school stultifying–mostly learning the proper lineages of the great masters–and I hope that wasn’t your experience.
Thanks again.
Peter
November 7, 2009 at 3:20 pm
Hi, Peter! I don’t know how often I can actually update this (I get longwinded! And my time is ever-so limited), but I promise I’ll try.
Knowing someone may actually read it will definitely help motivate me – I admit to having a bit of vanity and enjoying it when other people read what I write. And it’s that much better when those other people respond and engage me further – I so love the exchange of knowledge and ideas. My favorite part of grad school were the few hours we spent in class, b/c I found that exchange truly exhilarating. A book that bored me nearly to tears as I read it would suddenly gain so much more depth once I started actually talking about it with others.
Since grad school, I’ve learned that my Meyer Briggs (not sure if I’m spelling that right) personality type is ENFJ, which is very social and very much a social learner, and it made me realize that that’s why I loved class time so much. On the other hand, I found reading academic history (yes, I was a history student) very difficult, I think because so much of the passion and humanity ended up removed from it in the pursuit of trying to define some new groundbreaking theory about the whys of history. Not only was it boring to me, I simply didn’t process it well – until I got to class. I said I felt like the gears in my brain didn’t start turning until I got to class. And that was fine for the books we read as a class, but it made research papers much more difficult. The vast majority of study in grad school is solitary, as everyone tries to learn everything about their own very narrow area. (Mine was Irish and Irish-American history, particularly nationalism between the Famine and Irish independence.) I knew fairly quickly that it wasn’t a good fit for me, but I stuck it out for 2 years, until I finally decided that walking away with my Master’s would be sufficient for me. As much as I wanted to be a professor (I LOVE teaching – in fact, the ENFJ personality type is often referred to as “the teacher”), I could tell that a dissertation was simply not in the cards for me. And having just had my first child, I couldn’t envision being able to give her my best while continuing to slog through something I’d come to hate.
Back to your comment – I really liked your point about finding out that most of the “mean guys” have a story. It brings me back to Good Will Hunting, and that amazing “it’s not your fault” scene near the end. Because to most outside observers, Will Hunting was just one of those “mean guys.” He let very few know about his brain, and even fewer know about the pain he had endured. I fully believe that the vast majority of the bad things people do come from some deeper pain in their own history. Somewhere along the line, the world was not very kind to them. And whether that results in violence or in a non-violent crime a la Jean Valjean, the point is – very few people do bad things without some reason behind it. It doesn’t make it *right* – but it makes it human.
And it’s why I have a hard time hating anyone, no matter how terrible the things they may have done – because it seems like if you look hard enough, there is some very deep wrong behind it. Again, it doesn’t make it right, but it just makes me think, in my own agnostic kind of way, “There but for the grace of God…” How different might that person have been if only he/she had experienced the love and kindness that I have in my life? I’ve had (and have) a lot of pain in my life, but it’s mostly been of that kind inflicted by no one in particular – it’s the loss of my uncle to AIDS and my husband’s and son’s health struggles with VHL. And I’ve always had the support and love of my family to help me deal with those struggles. But if someone had actually hurt me? Had intentionally caused me pain, especially as a child? I’d probably be a very different adult. In so many ways, I’ve been so very lucky.
Thank you for appreciating my perspective – what you see as an open spirit of inquiry, many people see as overthinking. Sometimes I do myself.
Occasionally, I think I make life more difficult for myself by not just going with the easy answer, or having to examine everything in minute detail. And yet, for the most part, I wouldn’t change it. I find that “deep thinking” (which sounds so trite, but it really is the best phrase) is one of the things that makes me feel most alive. And it’s one of the things I love about my husband – he’s a deep thinker, too, and although it seems like our lives are often too busy to engage in deep conversations very often, I love how it feels when we do. I love knowing that we CAN, that he likes to think those deep thoughts, too. In fact, when I said before that I was happy but not excited, that is a big part of what I meant – I so rarely have time anymore for the kind of deep thought I enjoy that my brain feels stale. I’d love to enroll in a history class again, just for fun – but I don’t have the time or money for it. I honestly think being in a classroom as a STUDENT, along with other engaged students, is probably the happiest I can be. In fact, I’ve often said that my “dream job” – even though it’s completely made up – would be to travel the world, one semester at a time, taking great classes with great teachers. If I ever win the lottery, that’s exactly what I’ll do – pick up the family and travel. 
On a different note, one thing your comment made me think about: have you ever considered joining a gym where you could use a heavy bag or a speed bag? I think that you could get a lot of what you’re looking for in that fantasy of hitting some big mean guy by giving all you’ve got to a punching bag, and without the guilt or the fear of punching a real person. It’s actually something I’d look to do myself – I think the physicality might be what I’m craving more than the actual violence – an outlet for the stresses in my life.
OK, I’m going to wrap up this tremendously long “comment” and start wracking my brain for some of those “deep thoughts” that are buried somewhere, but that of course don’t want to surface at my command. I usually have them when I don’t have the time or ability to write! Typically either when I’m stuck in my long commute or when I’m desperately trying to sleep…
November 10, 2009 at 12:50 am
Hi Michelle,
OK, it’s a deal: I’m going to subscribe to your blog! No pressure–I now have a sense of how much you’re dealing with (sorry, I should have read the toolbar about VHL)–but I will try to follow it and comment from time to time. (I believe I just did this correctly, adding your url to my “reader.”)
It does sound like your personality and inclinations make you a perfect fit for the the classroom, so hopefully that will be in the cards for you at some point.
As for my fight fantasy, I’ll keep my eye on it because it makes me think about the possible connections among many things–memory, music, nostalgia, movies, maleness, honor, social justice, to name a few. In fact, thinking some more about why this fantasy has run through my head so much in the last few years, and looking for correlations with other things in my life, I realize that this probably started in response to some tense situations I’ve found myself in through my research, where I’ve been caught in the middle between some tough white guys who were very angry at my Mexican friends (well, all Latin American immigrants, actually). In the long run, I actually hope my writings will help to bridge some of these gaps (idealistic, I know), but in the moment, some of these (white) guys get pretty angry, and I’ve just had to wonder, What would I do if…? I still don’t know, and hope it never comes to anything bad (I don’t ever see myself hating them), but it has made me ponder what I’d do… and the interconnections among these different parts of the self. As Socrates said (quoting the Oracle at Delphi), “Know thyself.” But as the philosopher Nietzsche retorted, “That which we know ceases to be interesting to us. So what did Socrates mean when he said, ‘Know thyself’? Cease to be interesting to yourself?”
Good luck with everything, and write when you can.