Feminist Mystique“>

A closely related, but different, mystique

Feminist Mystique, Columbia’s soon-to-be-launched feminist magazine, is holding their first meeting tonight in Hamilton 413 at 8:30 pm. Why should you care? First, because all people deserve equality, and a system that enforces rigid gender roles and treats men and women unequally hurts both women and men. But also because there will be free milk and cookies at the meeting.

You should also check them out if you like puns, because Columbia feminists are quite witty. The theme of the inaugural issue of the magazine is, “A woman’s place is in the House, Senate, and Oval Office.” Another newly formed, and slightly more radical, Columbia feminist group took the name “Radical CUNTS“—Columbia Undergraduates Not Tolerating Sexism. Their first meeting is Friday at 6:00 pm in the Malcolm X Lounge, and they’ll also have free food.

Update: More free food tonight! The Culinary Society (yeah, that one—you know it’s gonna be good) is serving heaps of free food at their “childhood favorites” event tonight in the Satow Room at 9:30 pm. They’ll have smoked mac ‘n cheese with various toppings, cranberry pizza, milk ‘n cookies, dinosaur cupcakes, and a “gourmet PB&J bar” (!)

Landmark text from Wikimedia Commons

Translators Constance Borde and Sheila Malovany-Chevalier explained their efforts to faithfully render Simone de Beauvoir’s Le Deuxième Sexe, or The Second Sex. First published in 1949, it has been called the Bible of Feminism. Borde and Malovany produced the first translation of the entire work, and the first translation by women—answering the thirty-year-old call for a new translation truer to the original text. Hosted by the Barnard Center for Translation Studies, the event was moderated by Louise Von Flotow, a specialist on translation and writer in English. Bwog noob and tipser-extraordinaire Conor Skelding reports back.

L-R: Anna Bogic, Constance Borde, Sheila Malovney-Chevallier, Louise Von Flotow

In the United States, Von Flotow explained, translations go unheralded and translators unnoticed. Every translation is valuable not only in the work translated, she said, but as a triumph in itself which makes timeless ideas accessible to a new intellectual climate. Translations are interdependent with their time, affecting and being affected by the climate in which they are born.

The first English translation of Le Deuxième Sexe, by H.M. Parshley, dates to 1953. It was controversial and not without flaws. In 1983, Margaret Simon wrote an article exposing serious problems—namely, that 10 to 15% of the text was ignored in the translation without explanation and that the existentialist underpinnings of the work were ignored in favor of an over-scientific interpretation. English translations, both within and beyond the United States, either glossed over and excised the “perverse” sections or grossly exaggerated the sexuality and graphic nature of the book in male-oriented terminology. However, since Knopf owns the exclusive rights to Le Deuxiéme Sexe in the United States and the 1953 Parshley translation continued the sell well into the aughts, Simon’s criticism went unheeded. Around 2004, Knopf relented and Borde and Malovany entered the scene.

Read more…

One of the greatest perks of an Ivy League education is having all sorts of guest lecturers and talks hosted right on campus. Yet many of these great talks are not publicized enough. Enter Bucket List, a new weekly feature that aggregates these events in a single location that will hopefully make you realize, like Bwog has, how special our campus is. Our recommendations for this week are below; the full list is after the jump. Dig around, who knows what you’ll find!

• February 22: “The Iranian Revolution after 31 Years: Domestic Challenges and Regional Implications ” and “Transportation, Environment, and Energy Systems”
• February 23: “Citizen Complaints and Popular Accountability under Authoritarianism,” “US Special Forces – Global Capabilities,” and “A Talk with Marc Levy”
• February 24: “Afro-Latinas in the Americas: History and Culture of an Invisible Majority,” “A Man Escaped – Religion on Film,” “Philosophy Forum: History, Philosophy and Method,” and “The Great American University”
• February 25: “Recovering from the Great Recession: Barnard’s Economic Experts Weigh In,” “Strangers in Paradise: Religion, Politics and Identity in New Immigrant Communities in the U.S.,” “Along Those Lines: An evening of dance in five parts,” “Make Music, Not Emissions,” and “NAKatar”
• February 26: “After Communism: Achievement and Disillusionment Since 1989,” “Obama in Latin America,” “The Pasts and Futures of Ethnic Whiteness,” and “Black Heritage Month Fashion and Culture Show”
• February 27: “Feminism and Climate Change” and “Lunar Gala 2010: Muse”

Read more…

“Let me begin with the caveats: I like men,” writes Barnard’s president in today’s Washington Post, “But as the financial debacle unfolds, I can’t help noticing that all the perpetrators of the greatest economic mess in eight decades are, well, men.”

Oh yes, you may have heard many other explanations for the Wall Street crisis: irresponsible lending agencies, insane hedge fund managers, a housing prices bubble,  and so on. But according to Barnard’s president (who was a professor at Harvard Business School before coming to Morningside Heights), though, the problem lies in the nefarious XY chromosome pairing. Male-dominated Wall Street DSpar argues, could have been saved by some female leadership, because “women may be less inclined than men to place the kind of bets that can get them in real trouble.” Oh, and female whistleblowers (on Wall Street or elsewhere) are also never listened to. 

Don’t worry, though, guys: Spar assures you that “I have spent most of my career surrounded by men, and I have no major complaints.”

Remember American hero and proud Business School alum (’97) Roy Den Hollander? The self-described antifeminist who sued Columbia for failing to offer a “men’s studies” course? Whatever, anyway, he’s back! And he’s suing mad, specifically about ladies’ nights at bars because what else?

This month, Hollander is arguing that when nightclubs offer all the ladies reduced-price drinks, they are discriminating. He then went on to conclude that since nightclubs get their liquor licences from the state, it’s not only the clubs but New York that is discriminating against him, Roy Den Hollander, and all of his kind.

The lawsuit was dismissed and Hollander called the judge a “feminist.” The end.

Jezebel has breathlessly recounted an argument that occurred between Columbia’s own James, a self-described anti-feminist with a private Facebook page, and an unnamed Barnard student who slapped him for saying that he hadn’t met an “intellectual feminist” in his life. Naturally, this all happened this weekend at a party East Campus because of course.

James’ mysterious and covert Facebook also features a theoried-out anti-feminist rant. It’s cryptic and long and its coherence is tenuous, but you can read the whole thing on Jezebel (if you’re so inclined).

Oh okay fine, here’s the thesis: “The ethos of the feminist movement and gender relations today in America [is] the homosexualization and corruption of women into earthly creatures moved only by sex and material power, incapable of affirming a natural and sacred feminine identity in favor of an unnatural masculine one.”

The scene: Tasti D-Lite in Lerner. Yesterday, mid-afternoon. 

Girl 1: So in my class, this guy was like laughing when the professor was talking about like, women and misogyny.

Girl 2: That’s so ridiculous.

Girl 1: And then he tried to flirt with me after class and I was like, “I’m not going to flirt with you after you like laughed about women.”

Girl 2: (nods approvingly)

First came the lice. They invaded the heads (and sheets, and clothes, and pillows) of the girls of the Barnard Quad back in October. Next up on the nuisance continuum: “racist” graffiti. 

It’s barely eight hours into the first day of the semester, and controversy has already erupted in the form of graffiti scribbled on dry-erase boards in Hewitt. The nature of the graffiti is first described as “racist”, but later as “targeting feminism.” Perhaps the correct term might have been “sexist”? In any event, the entire Barnard community received an email alerting them to the events and subsequent series of meetings to discuss the code of conduct. 

Frankly, we’re a bit nostalgic for the lice. Full email after the jump.

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Hundreds stood, their fists raised, ringed by police, silent. And then, the cries went up.

“Together we unite to take back the night!” 

“Hey hey, ho ho, Sexual Violence has got to go!”

The crowd, about 90% women and the most popular men on campus, lurched forward, flooding across Broadway and down 116th street to
Riverside. Shouts went up in disunison, adding to the cacophony of rape whistles in a joyous celebration of girl power–especially urgent in light of last Saturday’s rape. They wound their way back up 114th street, past frat row, where brothers (and sisters) hung signs out their windows in support of the march. Passersby looked bemused, some slightly stunned, all quietly watching.

Bwog left feeling slightly less snarky than usual.

- LBD, bottom photo by Karen Kwan from the Quad

Over 300 have the balls to stand out in the cold; 150 participate in much warmer Lerner teach-in (also, Spec includes a nifty little video)

In the meantime, Computer Music Center staff catches colds without protesting

Chillin’ with the Varsity Show

Will Iran turn a cold shoulder?

– In the meantime, the pro-life perspective of feminism

Everyone and their sister (publication) has a sex columnist these days, and–being the blatantly imitative blog that we are–Bwog decided to get one of its own. There’s a lot we could say about this nameless muse…but we’ll let her introduce herself. Welcome to the Belle Jar.

Update, 1/23, 8:38 PM: You can e-mail the Belle Jar at bwogsex@gmail.com.

I am explicitly, absolutely, without a doubt, not a straight woman.

I’m not a member of the Columbia Queer Alliance, and I don’t play rugby—unless we’re talking euphemistically. If I you passed me on the street you’d have no idea I was gay (“lesbian” has too many syllables).

But here I am, anonymously, a Bwog sex columnist, at least until one of you delights me by creating a website about how I violate everything you hold dear.

Why am I writing this column?

What you want to hear: I have always dreamed of being a sex columnist. Ever since I bought my first pair of Dr. Martens, learned to fire a gun and realized I wanted to be cuffed to a bedpost by Detective Olivia Benson on SVU, I’ve pined for this very moment. My hero: Dan Savage, my enemy: Rick Santorum. I learned about dental dams at the age of 12. I’ve never used one, but I’m ready.

God’s honest truth: my editors thought this college should have a sex columnist who knew what it meant to be a feminist, to admire and understand women’s bodies, and to be slightly more enlightened than your average Druid dressed in Dolce.

I just thought it was funny as hell that they asked me.

You see, I don’t have regular sex; I have head on, high-speed collisions. I get whiplash and there’s usually broken glass. I take down insurance information, not phone numbers. And I’ve never slept with a guy, although I know many, many people who have, and who have reported back. I’ve thought about it the way I’ve thought about taking Econ—probably better for my financial future and legal rights but, at the moment, terribly tedious and likely soporific. It’s something I’ve been meaning to get around to doing and just haven’t had the time or willpower to accept or even correctly interpret an advance. Read more…

We rocked so hard, I thought we’d be together forever. And then you came back from Bulgaria with him. So I followed you home. And shouted expletives at your window all night long, and kept strands of your hair in a little box on my nightstand. I didn’t see the harrassment charges coming.

From now on: What? You don’t know who directed Angels in the Outfield! Get out of my sight. And don’t forget to go out the back door, or you’ll emerge from this place coated in Vaseline!

Woman! Get in the Kitchen and Bake Me Some Pie! 

Woman! Get in the Kitchen and Bake Me Some Pie! Again. 

Overheard on the Carman elevator:

Guy A: Well, what are you going to do with a waffle maker?

Guy B: Make waffles.

Dear Feminism,

Sincerely,
The Bwog