Does the presence of literary craft elevate pornography to a higher cultural status?

The word “elevate” in the title question implies a hierarchy of esteem; an identifiable ladder of cultural acceptability upon which all sexually explicit content is placed. In Western civilization, that ladder looks something like this:

1. High Art
2. Popular Fiction
3. Erotica
4. Pornography

Note that these are broad categories that encompass all media forms. For instance, in the realm of High Art, we should quite comfortably find a novel by the Marquis de Sade placed side by side with Pasolini’s 1975 film, Salo, both of them backgrounded by the astonishingly frank frescoes from the bath-houses of Pompeii. All of these are completely explicit in their depiction of the sexual act. Yet they also enjoy a high cultural status, owing largely to their overall artistic quality, their socially and/or politically motivated commentary, and their historical relevance to the evolution of their culture/artform. (As always, there are far too many puritans in the world who would instantly and automatically label any depiction of a sexual act as Pornographic while piously reserving the term High Art for only those works that studiously avoid any hint of sexual awareness. Be it known right now that I don’t subscribe to such a myopic taxonomy, and this essay is grounded accordingly.)

On another note, there are some who would argue for a different arrangement of the ladder to look more like this:

1. High Art
2. Erotica
3. Popular Fiction
4. Pornography

The justification here is that well-crafted Erotica, by holding as its ideal the celebration of one human body in sexual contact with another (or others), is far more nobly situated than the boilerplate fiction of Hollywood and Harlequin Romance. This may very well be the case, and I could no doubt be easily persuaded to champion such an argument elsewhere. But for the purpose of this essay, I’ll revert to the first hierarchy that places Popular Fiction above Erotica. My reasoning is based on a belief that the order of categories is directed by the extent to which they can be deemed as “meaningful commentary” in an objective sense. In other words – Is there a metaphorical underpinning to the text/image? Is there a story or narrative that can be seen to comment on some aspect of society in general, or a human trait in particular? Is there a relevance to the image/text outside the image/text itself? The more literal is the image/text, the lower I place it on the ladder. Thus, although I assume that many examples to the contrary exist, I nevertheless assert that Erotica – dealing most often with the immediate depiction of a sexual act in relative isolation from a political, economic, or sociological awareness – is lower than Popular Fiction. I leave it at that.

Given our agreed-upon hierarchy, then, let’s take a microscope to the lowest rank. This essay will attempt to argue that Yes, it is indeed possible to take Pornography and raise it up one or more rungs on the cultural ladder so that it sits firmly in the realm of Erotica – if not even higher. I assert that this can be done in a number of ways – visually, textually, cinematically, musically, theatrically – but the underlying methodology remains the same, regardless of medium. The strategy, in general, is to apply Craft to the raw pornography. By Craft, I’m referring to any thoughtful expression of skill that evidences a sustained program of artistic development.

Consider the case of Paradise Attempted, the short film I wrote, directed, produced – and then discussed extensively in my post, Can Pornography Inspire Art? The actual film does, in fact, contain brief glimpses of pornography – five images, all of them full frontal and erect. However, given the fleeting nature of their appearance on-screen, I would argue that the images are far from gratuitous, and, more substantially, that their presence is necessary in order to establish the “authenticity” of the lead character’s quest. But here’s the point: by including them in a larger cinematic piece – one that explores the nature of sexually explicit images in relation to the biblical conception of Innocence – I effectively pulled them into a higher cultural echelon by virtue of the fact that the film lends itself well to discussion and analysis under the banner of “meaningful commentary” (see above). Thus, I took five pornographic images, and 1) placed them squarely within the context of a thoughtful script; 2) planned and executed an array of cinematic techniques to surround, scrutinize, and interrogate them; 3) applied editing, sound, and music enhancements to intensify their intellectual substance, emotional impact and aesthetic resonance; and then 4) presented them in a public context that invited reflection, reaction, and dialogue. In other words, I, as a filmmaker, brought my Craft to bear on the pornography, and thus elevated it onto a higher plane. (Whether that plane was merely Erotica, Popular Fiction, or the rarefied world of High Art is a whole other debate.)

Furthermore, it’s important to understand that even in the context of the film, the five images themselves remained constantly pornographic – and were always treated as such by the lead character, myself, and my audience. What changed, however, was their meaning, because I reconfigured the way in which they were to be viewed – i.e. through the lens of yet another camera (mine) that placed them into the context of a larger story. Thus, while the essential quality of the images didn’t change, they became more meaningful because now, in the context of Paradise Attempted, their application to and interpretation by society was no longer simply restricted to the sexual gratification of a viewer/consumer.

The same process of applying Craft to pornographic images is taking place here, at SirRichardWadd.com. Only now, the Craft in question is literary as opposed to cinematic. But an argument can be made that the simple addition of text – however clever and well-composed it may be – does not alter the fundamental nature of the image: the pornography will always be just that – pornography. In response, I would argue as follows: the application of Craft is not intended to change the image itself. What changes is the way in which the image is perceived and understood as a result of the presence of Craft. In other words, if the text can be composed and applied in such a way that it invites the viewer to look on the image as more than simply a source of sexual gratification, then it will have succeeded in transforming it from pornography into something “higher.” Which raises the question: What more is there to be seen? Or, put another way, What sort of change in perception does the text (and its author) hope to encourage?

Essentially, I would very much like for Sir Richard Wadd’s Erotica to draw conspicuous attention to – and then celebrate – the many subtle variations in the way in which pornography is produced and presented. Which means, I want to showcase the richness of human experience that can be gleaned and interpreted from a close reading of pornographic images. To do this, it’s necessary to understand that pornography is never homogenous in 1) its character, 2) its quality, and 3) its attendant power dynamics – both implicit and explicit. Taking a closer look at the different ways in which pornography manifests itself is a useful first step in determining whether it has the potential to be thought of as anything other than low-level smut.

1) The Character of Pornography
This heading refers to the essential nature of the pornography. At its most basic and observable level, it can fall into one or more several classifications: If solo, does it depict a male or a female? If there is more than one model or actor, are they engaged in straight, gay, or bisexual activity? Once we’ve looked at the surface features of the porn, however, we can take the analysis further and try to read the facial expressions, moments of awkwardness and hesitation, and authentic (as opposed to scripted or directed) physical responses to the sexual act. These will generally tell us whether the porn was created in an enjoyable or painful atmosphere. As an example, it’s possible to watch a sado-masochistic porn scene in which all the actors are thoroughly enjoying themselves, and then to contrast it with a relatively “safe” scene in which it’s quite obvious that the actors aren’t at all interested in what they’re doing. We can also look at whether the porn is self-directed/produced or whether it’s contracted by a third party producer/photographer. In other words, a young man and his boyfriend at home with a webcam will create porn of a substantially different character than two high-paid celebrity models working with a crew in a studio. A viewer who is aware of these differences (especially those relating to the atmosphere and controllership of production) will begin to appreciate how the circumstances in which the porn was created can dramatically affect a reading of the models who appear in it.

2) The Quality of Pornographic Images
In this arena we can look at the actual images themselves and objectively evaluate their quality of production. For instance, are they poorly and amateurishly lit, or do they sparkle and glow in the well-placed lights of a studio? Are there multiple cameras recording the action? Is the image grainy and out of focus or is it crisp and clean? Regardless of any of the above factors, is there a discernible intent to the image? In other words, a thoughtful pornographic director may very intentionally “dirty” the image up a bit if this particular effect is desired to reflect on the characters or the story of the pornography. (And I’m the first to admit that this kind of intention in the realm of porn production is extremely rare – but gosh, wouldn’t it be nice to see more of it?)

3) The Power Dynamics of Pornographic Production, Distribution and Consumption
This is where the true analytical fun begins, because we are prompted to look at the sources and applications of power that course through the images and their production. At the explicit level (i.e. what is immediately visible) we ask several questions: What’s actually happening in the image? (i.e. is someone being penetrated?) Who is in control? (and keep in mind that the one doing the penetrating isn’t always the one in control…) If the actors are playing certain roles, do those roles come with cultural power tags attached? (i.e. is this a “prison scene” in which a uniformed officer is interacting with an inmate? What does it mean if the inmate ends up fucking the officer? If the officer asked for it? If the inmate turned the tables and forced the officer? Etc…). Each new configuration of a porn scene has the capacity to alter in both quality and degree the kind of explicit power dynamics that are in play. But there’s a whole other class of power that requires considerable more analysis, conjecture, and interpretation. This is the implicit power dynamics that come to bear whenever porn is produced, distributed and consumed. For regardless of what the porn scene is depicting, a look at the implicit power relationships will attempt to uncover certain behind-the-scene truths about what’s really going on. Are any or all of the models acting out of an economic need? Is there physical or financial coercion involved? Is the sex or its photography completely consensual? Keep in mind that the role of the viewer/consumer plays an important role in the implicit power dynamic: even in a self-directed shoot (i.e. a webcam), the consumer who wields the credit card also, in effect, wields the economic power over a model who may be short on rent. On the flipside, a home-based model who is on display for fun, and who does not need to worry about any kind of income, is in a far more powerful position and enjoys many more options with respect to how and when he will reveal himself online.

All the above examples are only the tip of the iceberg, and as I’m not a student of Foucault, I certainly have no intention of getting into the minutiae of various theories on Power. But what I’ve outlined above is, I believe, quite enough to get the ball rolling and establish the foundation upon which Sir Richard Wadd applies his Craft. That’s because the intent of Sir Richard’s literary supplements to the pornographic images is to deliberately draw attention to one or more of the above factors.

[EXAMPLE COMING SOON…]

Suddenly the viewer/reader is taken out of the immediate sexual fantasy and reminded that there are other issues at stake: economic exploitation, political alienation, and good old-fashioned objectification. Yet this awareness is not simply one that’s been crudely and unconvincingly fetishized for the purpose of niche marketing (e.g. obviously middle-class gay actors who appear in porn that is marketed as “Young, straight hustlers who will do anything for cash!”). Rather, Sir Richard’s viewers are specifically directed to consider the deeper sociological considerations of what’s being shown in the image; to identify or empathize with the model; and to recognize that pornography is an emotionally treacherous realm in which to travel. Sir Richard’s text, therefore, is deliberately applied in order to add meaningful commentary to the image – expanding its relevance to areas beyond the immediate sexual gratification of the viewer who is engaging with the pornography at a purely literal level. The image has been given a narrative context, a deeper significance, and perhaps even a modest little metaphor. It is no longer pornography – it is transformed and elevated to a higher cultural status.

As an interesting afterthought, consider what would happen to this essay if its fundamental assumptions were changed. Recognize that my entire argument is built on the premise of a hierarchy of cultural esteem. But what if that’s all bogus? After all, this so-called hierarchy is nothing more than a socially-constructed framework for classifying literary, visual, musical, or cinematic texts into comfortable and comprehensible zones of social acceptability. But imagine what would happen if we lived in a world that genuinely and reverently celebrated the human body. Chances are we’d be culturally conditioned to approach the explicit depiction of sex without fear, guilt, malice, or shame. If that were the case, would Pornography still be thought of as “low”? I wonder…