Semiotics: a branch of linguistics concerned with signs and symbols - Oxford Concise Dictionary
"Sex is largely a matter of semiotics, a language of signs which the body learns, the artful projection of an artful self. We earn membership of genders by performing as if we belonged to them, and construct ourselves - as Yaron paid the doctors to do - from the outside in. Like Dolly the sheep, Dana may be a totem for our terminal times."
So wrote Peter Conrad, summing up a savage profile he wrote recently for The Observer on Yaron Cohen, the artiste now known as Dana International. I say savage, because Conrad, despite interviewing the Eurodiva, made no attempt at a real meeting, but maintained an icy distance and picked her to pieces afterwards. There aren't many pop singers who could pass that test, never mind the rest of us. That she has been hyped up by her record company to be a "force for artistic freedom" and an ambassador for understanding, was all the rope he needed to hang her gorgeous neck.
His brutal assessment was that Cohen had "emasculated himself in self-disgust", and that his/her emotional life was modelled on Barbara Cartland heroines. He may be right. I've met drag queens and transsexuals with similar life stories. In my experience, the degree of their unhappiness is in direct proportion to the degree to which they want to modify their bodies, and eradicate the most obvious cause of their confusion, in the naive belief that they will start then to like themselves.
I recognise that this is not true for all transsexuals, by any means; Jan Morris, the travel writer, comes to mind. But in those I've met it's true enough. I don't say that lightly, nor in condemnation.
burly
heterosexual
Self-loathing isn't as shocking to me as it appears to be to Conrad. During Dana International's 15 minutes of fame, she is drawing attention to a mindset, if not a subculture, that has not been exposed to scrutiny before in the general media. It's a world where feelings come a poor third after glamour and artifice. Why be real, when being fabulous is sooooo much more fun, darling?
The only similar character I can think of in public consciousness is the fictional Dil in Neil Jordan's The Crying Game, which in my eyes was a truthful portrayal of a self-mythologising big-hearted queen. Self-loathing was evident to some degree, as witnessed in her relationship with a man who beat her up, and in her choice to attach herself in the end to the unattainable Fergus, standing by the man who did time for her. But Jordan's treatment of her was affectionate and humorous, honouring her absurd romanticism, but also respecting the genuine love that had existed between Dil and her soldier beau.
Conrad's statement about sex as semiotics is worthy of comment. There is of course a language of sex; one which can be learned and taught. But I assume that he is referring to gender as opposed to rumpy-pumpy. Homosexuals are masters of performance when it comes to sex roles; understandable enough when we have to conceal emotional natures that are often contrary to that which is expected of our gender. But it's the same for heterosexuals, of course.
The difference lies in how aware we are of our roleplaying.
The big burly heterosexual bodyguard may indeed be sensitive on the inside; but he will show it only if he feels safe with his partner, if she is comfortable with him being emotional. If displaying his feelings meets with mockery, he won't try it again. Similarly, if a woman wishes to pursue a creative or business project and make a success of it, she may find it intolerable if her partner feels threatened by her, if her ambition exposes his insecurities. She may choose to have a contented spouse rather than be alone with her brilliant career.
murky motives
In an ideal world, of course, each person should be able to be fully themselves, and shine in their own unique fashion, complete with loving supportive partners. In the real world, everyone limits themselves, to some degree. Although it is changing, I would suggest that most heterosexuals don't examine the ways in which they conform, because they don't need to. It takes a bereavement, a long period of loneliness, or some other painful crisis such as recovering from an addiction to force most to examine their unlived selves.
The corollary of that, of course, is that we poofters are beacons of consciousness in a world full of murky motives. Not. One look at Miss International will confirm that. But - I'm sorry, I was forgetting - she's a transsexual, not a queen. She distances herself from gays in her interview: "I must have bed, not up against tree or in park or in back of car. I do not do the one-night stand, like gays." She's a lady, not a nasty rough man. Well, that's alright then.
Ultimately, it is the feelings that Miss International evokes in others that will determine whether or not she feels like Pygmalion; a lady or not. I'm reminded of Eliza Doolittle in Shaw's in which the former street urchin remarks to the gentlemanly Col. Pickering:
"The difference between a lady and a flower girl is not how she behaves, but how she is treated. I shall always be a flower girl to Professor Higgins, because he always treats me as a flower girl, and always will; but I know I can be a lady to you, because you always treat me as a lady, and always will."
Dana International is not a woman, and will never be one. But her aspiration is to be a lady. It seems ungentlemanly to treat her in any other way. n