Issue 3/2012 - Net section
Katrien Jacobs has been researching sexual representation in Web and other subcultures for many years. Her latest book focuses on the status of Chinese pornography and its control and censorship. »People’s Pornography – Sex and Surveillance on the Chinese Internet« (2011) is certainly one of the most comprehensive and uncensored studies on the subject. According to Jacob, it could not have been carried out by Chinese researchers without intervention by the state, which has banned the production and consumption of pornography since 1949.
Tim Stüttgen: In your book »People’s Pornography,« two different biographical stories collide. You have co-organized two influential conferences on internet pornography – »The Art and Politics of Netporn« (2005) and »(C)lick Me« (2007) – as well as being involved in studying this topic for over ten years. On the other hand, you live and work as a professor at the Chinese University in Hong Kong. Your book is not only one of the most relevant in its field but – aside from its many analyses of netporn, blogs and sexual subcultures, censorship and surveillance in China – it is also exceptional due to your personal style of writing, which reflects your experiences as a European living on a foreign continent.
Katrien Jacobs: I have been living and working in Hong Kong for nearly seven years now. It was not my intention for the book to bridge the gap between Euro-American and Chinese philosophies of netporn. In fact, these two intellectual and erotic continents can hardly be compared to each other – and I was very aware of the danger of projecting my own values and ideas onto Chinese contexts. The most important factor in the creation of this book was my long-term collaboration with translators and friends who helped make a great deal of information accessible to me. My students were helpful as well, with their very open-minded attitudes toward visual erotica.
When the writing process came to an end after spending such a long time on the book, I became depressed at first, due to my cultural isolation and the brutal repression against dissidents such as Ai Weiwei. However, I soon realized it was up to me to salvage the self-reflective, radical and humorous perspective on pornography that I was able to gain through years of interaction with other researchers in Berlin and Amsterdam.
The point in time I am referring to was April 2011. Ai Weiwei had just been taken into investigative custody, and I felt as though my emancipatory attitude toward pornography was depleted of meaning in the face of reality. But then hundreds of thousands of Chinese internet users and artists reacted to Ai Weiwei’s case. This was an important moment of confrontation with Chinese authorities. The situation left me confused, but in the end I decided to publish the book. Contrary to my expectations, it was much discussed in the mainstream media. The book became part of the public’s protest on behalf of eroticism. My Euro-netporn background definitely helped me to develop greater self-assurance in openly criticizing the Chinese government, as a foreigner living on the fringes of Chinese culture, even though this government was watching me, which meant I first had to overcome a certain degree of paranoia.
Stüttgen: The national policy of pornography censorship and prohibition has existed in China since 1949. How difficult is it to analyze new developments in visual eroticism in China and Hong Kong, despite this apparent stasis?
Jacobs: Sexual motifs can undoubtedly also be found in other cultural spheres. I am certain that Chinese cave drawings can be found that depict breasts or penises. Mao and the governments succeeding him introduced a radical denial of the erotic. Mao himself was very sexually active and had sex almost every night. Anecdotes of this sort are widespread in China. At the same time, an extensive underground porn industry exists here, which follows the rules of neoliberalism. In my opinion, it is wrong that sexual cultures in China are banned due to almost medieval attitudes. However, there are counter-phenomena developing as well, such as DIY porn and the sex activism of a new generation, gay DIY porn or even post-porn like in Taiwan. In general, there is a powerful sexual energy brewing beneath the surface – and it has become far more perceptible thanks to the internet.
Stüttgen: In view of this situation, did you have any doubts about writing a book focusing on a context that remains prohibited?
Jacobs: As a researcher, I had to come to terms with the idea of writing an entire book about a phenomenon that does not officially exist and is automatically censored. Therefore, I had no other choice but to radically subvert this perspective and pretend that the old-fashioned laws of the People’s Republic do not exist at all. Many of these positions are spread by emails that sound so bureaucratic that most Chinese no longer take them seriously. In the end, I was looking for an in-between space where I could discuss communist anti-porn propaganda and the burgeoning underground porn industry, since that industry has not yet reached a point where it can evaluate itself critically. Furthermore, it is problematic that most popular films are very heterosexist, especially Japanese porn, which dominates the Asian market. Despite the ban in China, it is not very difficult to get access to pornographic products. It is much more difficult however to establish a public discussion in which questions about female desire or queerness can be posed.
Stüttgen: You write in detail about blogs in which political and sexual attitudes are expressed that do not appear in the public debate.
Jacobs: For me, the challenge was to bring together two different lines of discourse. One consists of blog activists such as Han Han, who are usually male and critical of the political system but who do not discuss sexuality. After intensive research I found out that these bloggers are of the same opinion as myself, namely that China needs its own porn culture. On the other hand, there are Japanese porn stars who give sex tips in their blogs, students who get naked online in order to escape their daily routine, gay bloggers who upload cartoons, or communist officials who write erotic diaries that get stolen by hackers and put online. Although some of this erotic data goes viral by coincidence, other cases involve more serious activist interventions. Chinese sex bloggers are quite creative when it comes to attracting attention on the internet.
Stüttgen: You have found a further area of sexual, even queer subversion within the popular culture of costume play. This topic comes up in »People’s Pornography« as well as your book »Wandering Dolls,« which you published with Jing Yang.
Jacobs: Cosplay is a fad within Chinese youth culture that has developed queer practices such as cross-dressing, androgyny and a special fascination with homosexual mangas. I view this phenomenon as a type of queerness that never really fully manifests itself. It seems to be based on a deep-seated need to enact sexual personae through the meticulous creation of a character using specific costumes, hair styles, social position (such as top or bottom) and self-photography. In interviews I tried to find out whether these cosplayers are homosexual or transgender, but most of them gave answers such as »I’m not that straight-ish.« At the same time, they possess a certain sense of pride in avoiding personal relationships and being Otaku (or the female form Fujoshi), which means their identity is fundamentally bound to cyberspace. Cos culture is wonderful and multifaceted, because many of these people do not care what their costume practices mean in terms of identity. Then again, there is a great deal more queer tolerance in these circles than in the official public sphere.
Katrien Jacobs’s »People’s Pornography – Sex and Surveillance on the Chinese Internet« was published by Intellect Books in 2011.
Katrien Jacobs’s & Jing Yang’s »Wandering Dolls – Cosplay Journey across East Asia« was published by Roundtable Synergy Books in Hong Kong in 2011.
Translated by Jenny Taylor