Your Burning Questions about Korean Feminism, Sexuality, and Pop Culture—Answered!

Estimated reading time: 2 minutes. Photo (cropped) by Tsuyuri Hara on Unsplash.

Please send them in, either in the comments below, on the Facebook event page, or on the registration form, and I’ll answer them in person next Tuesday July 13 at 7:30pm (KST), in a Zoom interview organized by Rhea Metituk (rhealm@gmail.com) of the KOTESOL Women and Gender Equality Special Interest Group. Everyone is welcome to join, it won’t be recorded, and you can rest assured that Rhea will be graciously but ruthlessly ensuring the KOTESOL Code of Conduct is followed by all participants.

And I do mean please send them in. Good answers need preparation, the only ruse I know to bluff people into thinking I’m smart. Also, bear in mind that from my perspective I’ll be the least interesting person in the room, and would rather ask you questions instead. A long list of yours to get through first however, means there’ll probably only be time to cover the topics you want. So please ask away! 🤓

If you reside in South Korea, you can donate via wire transfer: Turnbull James Edward (Kookmin Bank/국민은행, 563401-01-214324)

The Grand Narrative is Evolving

I’m about to lose 1000s of followers. Yet I couldn’t feel any more relieved or enthusiastic.

Estimated reading time: 10 minutes. Photo by Christian Diokno from Pexels.

No, not ending—evolving. Radically changing form, in order to survive and thrive.

Sorry if I alarmed you. So too, for my unexpected recent hiatus from writing. Real life just kept intruding, whether it was through moving apartments, chronic insomnia, teaching face-to-face again, noise complaints from my new neighbors, going though a bottle of whiskey every few days, one of my few close friends ghosting me, or so on.

But suffice to say we’ve all had our demons to face after over a year of Covid, and most people’s have presented far more of a challenge than mine. To let you get back to dealing with yours then, here’s the TL;DR:

Starting in July, I’m going to be dramatically cutting back on what I post to social media, in favor of longer twitter threads and Facebook posts designed to spark conversations instead. And, sometimes extending those conversations to Zoom and Clubhouse.

If you’ve primarily been relying on me as a news source, then I completely understand unfollowing me after hearing this. Sail thee well.

If you’d like an entirely too frank explanation for the change though, to understand why I’m so excited, and why only the smartest and most interesting among you are going to want to stick around? Then read on.

Photo by Marga Santoso on Unsplash.

Basically, the process began when Hootsuite announced it was altering its pricing plans.

If you haven’t heard of it, Hootsuite is a social media service I’ve been freely using for posting and scheduling links simultaneously across the blog’s Facebook, Twitter, and so on. It’s saved a lot of time compared to posting each link into each social media network manually.

From July however, its free service is going to be rendered effectively useless, and its next tier will cost $19 a month.

I’m not complaining. For what it provides, it’s definitely worth the money. If I could have paid monthly or 3-monthly, I probably would have.

Yet it can only be done in an annual lump sum of $228, which is very unwise on Hootsuite’s part. Because that feels like so much more money, it prompts hard questions in users’ minds about the real value they place on social media, which I think Hootsuite would rather they didn’t ask.

You see, with me, I was forced to admit I’ve been using social media as a crutch.

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

Way back when social media was first taking off, all the blogging gurus advised getting on board. Create an audience there they said, and more people will see your blog posts than if you just relied on email sign-ups and google searches alone. It made sense, and still does.

The issue is creating and maintaining that audience, which I’ve naturally been doing by regularly posting links to (mostly) East-Asian feminism, sexuality, and pop-culture stories. Which may sound like the easiest thing in the world, but consider the full process.

First, those stories have to be found. So, by now I have hundreds of google keyword alerts, email subscriptions, twitter search feeds, and RSS feeds set up to deliver them to me which you don’t, and have lost track of all the related groups and forums I’m in. All those have to be continuously updated too, as old sites die and new ones emerge.

Then, from all the ensuing links, a shortlist of articles, videos, artworks, and podcasts has to be blitzed through to make sure they’re interesting and suitable. Which again doesn’t sound like a grind at all for a geek, but in reality there just isn’t the time to absorb their content in any great depth.

Next, their links, headlines, and ledes need copying, pasting, and posting, before finally, with a huge sigh of relief, I can schedule them, trying to ensure a variety of content throughout the day and the maximum possible audiences.

Put that all together, and it can easily add up to an hour’s work every day—more actually, if I wasn’t so good at it by now. As I’ve been doing it for ten years.

It’s become very much a ritual, mostly performed over breakfast and my morning coffees, then again as soon as I return home from work. Both increasingly precious windows of free time which, you know, most real and aspiring writers would use to actually write.

Photo by Ketut Subiyanto from Pexels.

Yeah, all that time and effort does sound nuts in hindsight. But it’s also how I came to gain over 10,000 followers. I’ve seen how people really do sit up and take notice when they see numbers like that next to your name. And, when that happens, that feeling that the world is a happy place and that you are a notable person in it, is every bit as addictive and sublime as all that whiskey I’ve been drinking.

It’s still all a crutch though, because ultimately it’s just been an avoidance mechanism.

However much hard work is involved in pursuing likes, and however much it feels like I’m “advancing my brand” when I put a link up to do so, doing my own work presents far more of a challenge.

As a cishet white male specializing in the subjects that I do, it can be a struggle finding topics about which I feel I actually have something valuable and worthwhile to say. So, to gain the knowledge and confidence to do so, I rely heavily on Korean-language sources. But locating and translating those is hard. Interviews, difficult to arrange—nay, find the time and energy for—when you’re middle-aged and have a full time-job and a family. Putting what you do obtain all together and writing something cohesive, sometimes a herculean task. Trying to learn from established writers how to make the end result at least vaguely enjoyable and readable, thoroughly depressing—as if I’m a permanently stunted child, who will never, ever rise to their level. And, after all that, don’t even get me started on persuading people to actually read what you do finally come up with.

To continue a theme, if you don’t do any of that yourself, you really no have idea of the work involved. No, really you don’t.

Just a small taste of what’s on my desk and screen while working on my next post. Photo (edited) by cottonbro from Pexels.

It’s so much easier to just post links instead. So what if that ends up taking the place of my own work that day? There’s always mañana. Besides which, a story about the latest K-pop controversy will almost always get me far more likes and new followers than my writing will.

Yet if people responded more in the comments, then the social media schmoozing would feel much more worthwhile. But honestly? Most of the time, it’s as if I’m just screaming into the void, whether we’re talking about my own writing or the stories I link to.

Or indeed, not talking.

Only getting comments once in a blue moon on my blog, I understand—for those, I would need to go through the rigmarole of self-hosting, necessary to install the much more user-friendly Disqus commenting system. But on Facebook especially, with 4300 followers? Or on Twitter, with 3600? I don’t mean to exaggerate that I don’t get any comments at all, and I’m very grateful to all of you who have ever taken the time to leave any. Yet somehow, even when I respond to a long, thoughtful comment in kind, there’s rarely the sparks there that flare into the longer conversations I encounter on other people’s pages, groups, and tweets, despite them having much smaller numbers.

Put all that together, and I’d be hard pressed to name more than a dozen of you I’ve regularly interacted with.

I’m not gonna lie—it’s been lonely.

“You’ll talk about about my writing with me, won’t you? Please?” Photo (cropped) by cottonbro from Pexels.

It’s not you, it’s me. I know there’s much more I could do to increase engagement, and I’d appreciate your help in learning how. Indeed, jumping ahead, having real conversations with you from now on is precisely what this change is all about.

Another elephant in the room is that without that interaction, it’s exacerbated my feelings of being taken for granted. I don’t mean to make anyone feel guilty by mentioning that (okay, maybe just a little), and I readily admit I myself only donate to the tiniest fraction of the people and sites I follow. But if, likewise, even if only just the tiniest fraction of 1% of my followers had made occasional, minimal donations, I could easily have afforded to keep using Hootsuite. Instead, despite my stats showing me that people sometimes spend hours poring over my long posts that took me months of work, and despite 1000s of people a day clicking on the stories I find and post for them, I haven’t received so much as a dollar for providing either in over four years.

Source: Fanpop.

For sure, I don’t mean to imply anybody should feel under any obligation whatsoever. It’s always been entirely my choice to do what I do, and for the most part I’ve enjoyed it.

But I am, after all, just one person. My feelings have weighed heavily in my decision to make this change, so it would be disingenuous of me not to include them in my explanation. That, you know, just a note of thanks here and there would have been nice in the last few years, let alone an occasional $5 donation.

Without those, I just can’t keep running what has essentially become a free newswire service. Let alone if it’s going to start costing me $228 a year to do so.

So I won’t.

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio from Pexels.

What I will be doing on social media from now on is: choosing only the most interesting, relevant, and awesome news stories, music videos, advertisements, interviews, artworks, podcasts, and books; writing some brief commentary and adding translations as per necessary; and then posting those, with the deliberate intention of getting conversations going.

Honestly, I’ve no idea how long or how often those will be yet. It’s a work in progress, which I wouldn’t want to lose all my newfound extra writing time to. I’m certain though, that it will mean losing the vast majority of my followers.

But even if as few as 100 remain?

Who I can have real conversations with, that we learn from each other in?

That we mutually look forward to hearing each other’s commentary and insights from?

And who sometimes have their own cool stuff they’d like to share with everyone?

Then it will all be worth it.

And I do mean conversations. It’s 2021. It’s finally occurred to this grizzled old blogger that there’s no reason to just type at people anymore. So, by genuine coincidence, the KOTESOL Women and Gender Equality Special Interest Group has already arranged a Zoom session with me for a ruthlessly moderated/completely chill chat about life, the universe, and East-Asian feminism, sexuality, pop-culture, and the blog in 2 weeks (I’ll make a separate announcement soon), and I would love for Zoom chats to become a regular thing if enough people join them. I’d like to set up a regular room on Clubhouse too, now that the semester break has begun and I can familiarize myself with how to use it.

I know, right? Me feeling excited and optimistic about the blog, for the first time in years? This is going to take some getting used to!

From Pictures for Sad Children by John Campbell. Source: unknown.

Meanwhile, the blog itself will change a lot behind the scenes, but little on the surface. As revealing how and why would require an explanation just as long again however (but you’re still free to ask!), suffice to say I’ll be returning to longform writing only, will refuse to be distracted by the 100s of folders of potential post topics I’ve had bookmarked for years, and will exclusively work on actually continuing and—heaven forbid—even completing my “Asian” vs. “Western” Women’s Bodies and then Queer Female Gaze series, which will take a few months at least. Finally, before the year is out, I’ll also be aiming to complete a journal article on Erving Goffman and Korean advertisements I’ve been putting off for, oh, only about 10 years. Then in the next 6 months after that, another on the gender politics of Korean school uniforms.

I may look as relaxed as this guy, but in reality I’m sweating buckets about finding a ringlight suitable for countering a shiny bald head in the next two weeks. Any suggestions? Image by Pexels from Pixabay.

Here’s to hearing many of your thoughts and comments from now on then, wherever or however I receive them! 😊 And please don’t worry about the drinking—I’m already over a month sober, and 5 kg lighter!

If you reside in South Korea, you can donate via wire transfer: Turnbull James Edward (Kookmin Bank/국민은행, 563401-01-214324)

Finding the Queer Female Gaze, and What it Says About Anda’s Touch (COMING MAY 4)

It’s a dirty job, publicly shaming yourself into finally writing about a subject that you’re passionate about and have been working on for years. But someone has to do it!

Estimated reading time: 2 minutes. Source: YouTube.

The MV for Touch by Anda, released in 2015, is as queer and objectifying as they come. Naturally, I fell in love at first sight, and just had to review it.

I’m not a woman though—neither a lesbian, a heterosexual, nor any other on the glorious spectrum. So, before I got started, I needed to hit the books. But no sweat, I reasoned. The concept of the male gaze has been around since 1975. It’s well-known enough that no-one who’s already woke has to explain it to another. Surely over forty years later, I thought, there would be just as extensive a literature on what women want? With helpful lists of clear criteria to guide even the most hapless of cishet male reviewers?

You can already guess the answers. But, absorbing what was out there proved addictive. And, as some of you may recall, I did eventually feel that I had enough of a handle on it to write a review.

Only to delete it in consternation as I realized the queer female gaze was a much broader, much more contentious subject than I’d first imagined. In fact, one requiring an epic series to do it justice. Humbled, I resolved to keep researching and gathering all the information that would be necessary, not putting pen to paper again until I was absolutely certain I’d covered all my bases. I duly created a second “Anda + Queer Female Gaze” folder on my Firefox toolbar, and set to work.

That was over two years ago.

That folder now has three hundred bookmarks in it, with thirty more bookmarks added today in the wake of the recent release of Portrait of a Lady on Fire.

All of a sudden, adding to that morass finally made me realize what a fool I’ve been. All this time, the effortless collecting and reading of articles has been an albatross around my neck, providing an easy out from the harder work of actually writing.

And, if I wasn’t going to start just as soon as I had that epiphany, then when? And if making such a public commitment wasn’t motivation enough to actually see it through too, then what would be?

Source: YouTube.

I admit, a strange post. But if it gets the job done. I also felt it would be more helpful to explain than just ghosting you until the 27th, chosen for when I’ll hopefully no longer be teaching from home.

Thank you very much for indulging me then, and I’ll be back here soon. And please stay safe!

(p.s. If you can’t wait, you can still catch me on Twitter or Facebook!)

Update 1, Monday, April 27: All completed, but it needs some ruthless editing after a good night’s sleep, so I’ve postponed publication until Wednesday. Sorry for the slight delay!

Update 2, Wednesday, April 29: Arrrgh! Sorry *again*, but real life has intervened in the form of sudden urgent editing projects from my boss, and my post still needs a *lot* more work than I thought it did on Monday.

TBH, I think it’s going to be controversial—I really want to challenge people’s assumptions about the male & female gazes—so I really want to make sure I get it right. Let me just call it for *next* Mon then, with my promise to do my best to make it worth the wait. Thanks!

If you reside in South Korea, you can donate via wire transfer: Turnbull James Edward (Kookmin Bank/국민은행, 563401-01-214324)

Urgent—Your Quick Help is Needed to Unblock my Blog Please! (FIXED)

Estimated reading time: 3 minutes. Photo by Andrea Piacquadio from Pexels

FIXED!

Thank you SO MUCH for your help everyone, I don’t think I could have done it without you.

And honestly, being blocked has kind of had a silver lining too. I’ve been really touched and surprised by how quickly everyone has responded, and for all your kind messages about how much my blog means to you. All this time, I’ve really had no idea at all!

The least I can do in return is to endeavor to keep writing and posting, and more consistently 😉

Thanks again then, and for being such awesome readers over the last 13 years.

Stay safe everyone!
Love,
James 😍

(Original post below.)

Sorry to ask, but I really need 3 minutes of your help please.

I need you to go to Facebook, copy and post this link to my blog—https://thegrandnarrative.com/—and when a message pops up saying “Your post couldn’t be shared, because this link goes against our Community Standards,” to click on the “If you think this doesn’t go against our Community Standards let us know,” and then leave a brief message explaining there’s clearly been a mistake, and for Facebook to please review the problem. Please make sure to post the link to my blog again in the message too.

Thanks. I know it doesn’t seem much, but you’ve no idea how helpful this is to me!

The reason is, trolls have gotten my blog blocked on Facebook.

Yesterday, I was unable to publish my last blog post on Facebook, as it went “against community standards.” That was annoying, but no biggie—I figured probably the algorithm mistakenly flagged the opening image as nudity or something. This sort of thing often happens to feminism and sexuality blogs (sigh), and normally all that is required to remove the block on the post is choosing a different image, and/or then reposting under a different url.

That didn’t work this time. In fact, my whole blog is blocked. All 800 posts and 13 years’ worth of work. Even all the links already on Facebook are blocked.

As you can imagine, people not being able to share your work on Facebook is a nightmare for a writer.

Frustratingly, Facebook gave no warning, and never gives any specific information about any alleged offense. The only clue I was able to receive at all was when I tried using the Facebook sharing button at the bottom of my posts:

There you have it. Given the timing, possibly those responsible are the same trolls on Twitter who recently targeted me for the heinous crime of simply linking to the awesome Unseen Japan site (I had to block more people on Twitter in the next 24 hours than in the previous 12 years!).

But whoever turns out to be responsible, they’re taking advantage of an all-too-common tactic used against feminists. All they have to do is report a site they don’t like, whereas the only thing you, I, or anyone can do in response is filling out the same “let us know” form above. (I’m very open to other ideas though!)

To add insult to injury, even at the best of times Facebook is notoriously unreliable in responding to those messages, let alone by a human. But right now, Facebook has cut its human support staff due to the Corona virus.

In other words, the worst possible thing has happened to my blog, at the worst possible time. There’s every possibility my blog may be banned from Facebook for months or even forever, all because of a few trolls.

That’s where you come in. With all your messages about my blog going through too though, there’s a much, much better chance that an actual human will receive one of them, give my blog a glance, and instantly realize the block was a mistake.

Thank you very much again then, for taking the time to send a quick message, and for being such awesome readers over all these years. With your help, hopefully this will all be resolved soon! :)

(Update: if you’re having difficulties, please just try typing in www thegrandnarrative dot com instead, and/or posting it in a comment on Facebook rather than in a new post. Those alternatives have been working for some people.)

If you reside in South Korea, you can donate via wire transfer: Turnbull James Edward (Kookmin Bank/국민은행, 563401-01-214324)

Finding the Mother Lode

Hi everyone. How’s your December been? Mine’s been full of testing, grading, breaking my toe, acquiring two homeless kittens, and finally doing some last-minute Christmas shopping…for myself. Which means that shortly after this goes up, I’ll have to hobble out of the door and actually start looking for presents for my poor daughters.

No, really. Ahem.

But back to me. I did discover quite the mother lode in Busan Book Alley yesterday, yes? Yet even I balked at the various readers on Lacan and Gender and Critical Theory available though, and reluctantly put down such tomes as examinations of the works of various Australian woman authors, which I’d be unlikely to ever read myself. So you’re more than welcome to pick those up yourself!

Meanwhile, I’m also happy to say I do finally have various long posts actually written for you. But, curiously, Christmas and New Year’s don’t seem to be the best times to post anything you’d like to actually get read. So, I’ll just keep writing more instead—I shouldn’t be walking much on this toe after all—and will delay posting them until late next week.

Until, I hope you enjoy the holidays. And, given that you’re still reading this probably means that you too get excited about 30+ year-old books, I’d be happy to chat with you about any of my picks above. Probably, I’ll start with Gender Voices by David Graddol and Joan Swann (1989), in which the authors “explore in a clear and comprehensive manner the idea that language shapes individual lives—that through our speech we all help recreate gender divisions in society,” as that’s a subject there’s been many Korean articles about in the last few months. First though, I’m going to finish the classic States and Social Revolutions: A Comparative Analysis of France, Russia and China by Theda Skocpol (1979), which I wish I’d actually read when I studied it in a course on revolutions as an undergraduate. After that, I’ll try to finish Good Booty: Love and Sex, Black and White, Body and Soul in American Music by Ann Powers (2017), a rare new book which I bought because I listened to an excellent podcast interview of the author. I had to put it down a third of the way in however, as I just wasn’t enjoying the overly evocative writing style, through which every other humdrum dance-hall meeting and church service described somehow becomes rendered into a hotbed of hidden desires, frustrated lust, secret liaisons, and opportunities for forbidden miscegenation. This “pregnant with possibility” style as I like to call it, prominent in Clive Barker’s fantasy novels which I learnt the term and from especially in The Price of Salt (a.k.a. Carol) by Patricia Highsmith (1952), I usually enjoy immensely. But not in this first encounter in non-fiction. Perhaps after 293 pages of Scokpol’s “structural functionalism sociological paradigm comparative historical analysis” though, I’ll enjoy the contrast, especially more once I begin the post-1950 chapters about music I know?

Happy reading everyone!

If you reside in South Korea, you can donate via wire transfer: Turnbull James Edward (Kookmin Bank/국민은행, 563401-01-214324)

MUST SEE: “Reclaiming our Dark Chapters and Building a Community” Sebasi Talk by Winnie M. Li, Author of Dark Chapter

Estimated reading (and viewing) time: 3 (+17) minutes. Image source: YouTube.

Long time no see everyone, and sorry for the wait.

We’re all busy these days, so I won’t waste your time with explaining why. Suffice to say I no longer have long blocks of time free to really delve into a subject like I used to. Don’t worry: that doesn’t mean I won’t be writing marathon, heavily-researched posts anymore, or never finishing the—ahem—half-dozen series I have ongoing. Just that I can’t spend Herculean, lunch to dinner sessions on posts like I used to. Instead, I have to take advantage of a free half an hour here, an hour there, and…TBH, I’ve been struggling to make the transition. But I’ll get there.

In the meantime, there’s one more change I’m going to have to make, which has been a long time coming. The issue is I’m always reading, listening, and watching Korean feminism, sexuality, and pop-culture-related things, but I don’t share them because, time aside, I usually just don’t have much to add to them. That compulsion is such a 2007 blogging mindset though. (Yeah, that’s how long I’ve been doing this.) Also, that I’ve been spending an hour per day posting to Twitter and Facebook for many years has blinded me to the fact that many readers of mine aren’t actually on either (sorry). So, from now I’ll making lots of short posts, drawing your attention to the interesting and useful, with only minimal commentary from me if necessary. Meanwhile, I’ll still be working on the marathon posts in the background.

That said, most of those things I’m reading, listening, and watching these days are—yay me?—all in Korean, which, sans translating everything, are not necessarily the easiest things to pass on to non-Korean speakers. But again, I’ll see what I can do.

Which brings me to the video of the title, an April 2018 talk in Seoul for Sebasi (like a Korean TED) by sexual assault victim and now education and rights activist Winnie Li, author of Dark Chapter.

Frankly, I’d never heard of her before this Saturday, when I had to attend a TEFL conference at my university. But at that conference, attendees were told there was a mandatory viewing session of a video about preventing sexual harassment.

You can imagine most people’s reactions: in Korea, such videos are typically cringeworthy, patronizing, and terribly-translated cartoons. Instead, we got the presentation below…which by no means is about sexual harassment prevention.

What exactly it is about though, I’ll have to frustrate you by not saying, because I want you to be as shocked and amazed as I was. But I do promise that no matter how busy you are, it will easily the best use of 17 minutes you’ll make this week.

After you’ve watched, please let me know what you think in the comments. And make sure to check out Winnie Lee’s own blog too!

(Note that the talk is all in English, with Korean subtitles.)

If you reside in South Korea, you can donate via wire transfer: Turnbull James Edward (Kookmin Bank/국민은행, 563401-01-214324)