To say they rule my world

I look forward daily to the writing of Ta-Nehisi Coates, which I have praised elsewhere on these pages.  In addition to the reasons I cite there, I wonder also if it is because his work exemplifies my sense of what reasonable argument can be: steady, reflective, connected to experience but also to the wider culture, discreetly slangy, thoughtful.

This morning’s short essay on Prince, “All of my Purple Life” was a typical treat.

One thing I’ve appreciated about Prince, as I’ve aged, is that he knows how to sing about sex, like a man honestly singing about sex. Much of the misogyny in hip-hop (and I suspect in other art forms too) comes from, forgive my profanity, a deep-seated fear of ass. Men–and especially young men–fear what they will do to be physically involved with a woman with whom they’re infatuated. They compensate by turning this fear on its head and projecting. They make women into temptresses, gold-diggers, and villains, and make themselves into conquering heroes. Pussy don’t rule me, they’ll say–even though pussy ain’t thinking about them. Which is the problem, or rather their problem.

I think writing about gender and pop culture needs more of this kind of careful, humble, exploration of what can easily turn into a call to arms or, worse, an outbreak of hnurgh, hnurgh, hnurgh.  To what extent is a fear of someone else assuming power over us a fuel for all kinds of hateful, or even hate-skirting, words?

Tagged as: power, sex, Ta-Nehisi Coates, writing