The Unfunny Side of Modern Feminism

Is feminism funny or humorless? That was the question asked and evaluated at a Slate event I attended in New York City two weeks ago called Double X Presents: The Smoking Bra: Women and Comedy. I thought the question was worth exploring because, like so many contentious topics, feminism doesn't often inspire laughter. The problem is, I was looking in the wrong place for an answer.

I would describe the comedy event in detail, but doing so would violate Philippians 4:8, which instructs us to think on things that are true, noble, right, pure, lovely, and admirable. Much of what I saw and heard was anything but that.

Double X editor Jessica Grose opened by introducing a "pioneering" female comedian whose claim to fame was passing gas on stage. Next, Second City alumnus Jenny Hagel, showed a film in which she plays an uptight gender studies professor who tries to convince a thief that she is a feminist, whether the thief likes the label or not. When reason doesn't work, Hagel turns to rap. Some of her nimble descriptions are compelling, like when she says a feminist is someone who knows that if a guy buys her pie, she doesn't owe him sex. Others are trite, like when she suggests a feminist is excessively curious about her own genitalia. Megan Kellie then showed a video of crass street interviews asking the question: Why do men think their private parts are funny and women don't?.

After these bits, I thought to myself that if feminism is maligned, it's not because it's humorless but because it can be so trivial. I'm not alone in this assessment.

In the March 2010 issue of More magazine, Naomi Wolf contended that feminism went astray when it became self-absorbed and unserious:

First Wave feminists, such as the suffragettes, were hardworking and frustrated, but their letters do not show them unusually dissatisfied in their personal lives. Their movement was about justice, equal opportunity and the larger ways to contribute to society. They were dissatisfied with the world … But Second Wave feminism descends from a much more individualistic intellectual mother, and that has actually wreaked some havoc on our well-being ….

The "intellectual mother" she describes is French existentialism as expressed by Simone de Beauvoir and redistributed through Betty Friedan. Wolf says, "Feminists in the developing world have lessons to teach us, because their movement did not begin with French existentialism. Their version of equality is not usually that of a self-asserting, solitary individual; rather, it is rooted in a world view in which the individual's needs and expectations are just one of a set of larger needs—those of family, of community, even of spirit—that should be, ideally, in harmony."

Now that is a feminism I can identify with, and perhaps find humor in. (Paging Anita Renfroe.) When it's all about body parts, I'm unimpressed. And that's mostly what I got, even from the pros.

Allison Silverman is a former executive producer of The Colbert Report and a comedy writing veteran of Late Night with Conan O'Brien and The Daily Show. She displayed an image of Carolee Schneemann's 1975 performance "Interior Scroll," in which a nude Schneemann pulled a scroll out of her vagina and read it to her audience. Viewed in conjunction with the original audio, it was funny because Schneemann's delivery exactly matched the absurdity of the act—though I'm not sure how I would have reacted to the live performance 35 years ago, especially if in mixed company. Silverman's point was that feminism and comedy are not antithetical. Schneemann's performance, however wasn't the feminist triumph Silverman suggests. In Arts Journal, John Perreault notes some feminists disparaged Schneemann for "pandering to the male gaze." Good point.

Jimmy Kimmel Live writer Morgan Murphy's act was as vulgar as the rest, but it was also the most electric both because of her skill and her originality. It asked the question: If I'm a strong woman whose comedy sometimes reads as masculine, must I define myself as a feminist? She said she is confused about the answer.

During the panel discussion afterwards, Silverman and Murphycountered their peers who told Jezebel earlier this year that late-night television writing rooms are bastions of sexism. Silverman was careful not to dismiss their experiences, but said her own didn't match them. Both women seemed to understand just how fortunate they are to be making a living at their craft. Complaining, even about legitimate sexism, would have communicated a certain lack of perspective.

And perspective is at the core of why much of the comedy at this event didn't resonate with me. In their new book, American Grace: How Religion Unites and Divides Us, Robert Putnam and David Campbell say feminism has swept evangelical church pews (if not our pulpits) as thoroughly as it has everywhere else, but the same isn't true of our attitudes toward the sexual revolution. While I love a good joke and I'm grateful for the relative equality I enjoy, both modern feminism and modern comedy are too often enmeshed in the idea that I have a right to do with my body whatever I want. But I don't. 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 tells me that my body is a temple of the Holy Spirit. I am to honor God with it, not degrade it, indulge it, or display it immodestly for any reason, including a laugh. Perhaps this means I have a sanctified sense of humor.