Beyonce, Queen of the “Other” Victorians

This evening, Beyonce and her intense thigh action ruined my efforts to finish my submission in time, but it provided me with fantastic context for understanding Foucault’s repressive hypothesis and his epistemology on human sexuality. As I saw America’s Sweetheart gyrate relentlessly amid the backdrop of captivating pyrotechnics, dazzling projection screens and an army of synchronized dancers, I understood the futility in believing that Beyonce’s highly sexualized presentation was brand-spankin’ new.

In We Other Victorians, Foucault considers that since the start of Modernity, links have existed between new discourses about human sexuality, “the effects of power, and the pleasures that were invested by them” (Foucault, 11). From this relationship, an innate will to knowledge of our sex has consistently supported and served as the instrument to know our sexuality. Foucault’s project seeks to understand these links by identifying hallmarks in the general discourse of sexuality: that in each succeeding era, humans seemingly realize that they are repressed. Apparently, this assertion is wrong. According to Foucault, the uptake in discourse on sexuality as taboo, as exploitative and as marketable in our language simply perpetuates the misconception that we are freeing ourselves sexually. This means that as audacious and sexually enticing King Bey’s performance was tonight, she didn’t actually do anything innovative.

That leads me to question if Focault himself is trapped in the misconception of freedom in sexual discourse. His logic calls for knowledge that overturns an archaic system that codifies our sexuality into what can be known and unknown. Are the three doubts to his project–questioning the history, the theory of power-repression relations and the discourse of sexual repression–conscious enough of the skepticism of even his own claims? Like a classic epistemologist, Foucault admits the shortcomings of his project early on, stating that “more than one denunciation will be required in order to free ourselves from [repression]” (Foucault, 9). This indicates that his theory doesn’t promise a consummate understanding what can be known of our sexuality. Because specifically identifying and transgressing against forms of censorship define sexual progress, Foucault outdoes Beyonce (at least for me) by successfully showing that progress thus far has been a ruse.

I’ve enjoyed reading how Foucault considers power as a dynamic that affects this relationship. It seems that although we enact agential power to engage in a discourse on sexuality, the will to knowledge responsible for that discourse is insufficient because it uses language to silence, to prohibit and to mistaken. Our power, or lack thereof, shows that we only choose within a structure that instructs that we get giddy when Beyonce contorts her taut body against a mirage of herself. By bringing sexuality to the forefront, we don’t have the actual power to know our sex because our will operates on the assumption that we are improving the way we deal with sex. Does that mean I am powerless in resisting the sexual power of Beyonce’s performance? Does that mean the Beyonce is herself powerless to present her sexuality as a recycled commodity? As I read how Foucault straddles the divide between our constructions of repression and freedom, Beyonce will continue to straddles an imaginary Jay-Z on stage. I am excited to see how sexuality can be reimagined, in part, through Foucault’s project. However, the other part should come from rehearsing the Single Ladies dance endlessly.

– Kwame Kruw Ocran

Tags: Beyonce, epistemology, Foucault, Michel Foucault, Thighs

This entry was posted on Monday, February 4th, 2013 at 4:56 am and is filed under February 5. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.