What is the opposite of ‘rape’? Most will say it’s ‘sex’, with the understanding that rape is an abuse of power and sex is something that happens with consent. But what if the opposite of ‘rape’ was not just ‘sex’, but ‘pleasure’? Sex does not automatically mean pleasure, after all. But does that make ‘bad sex’ tantamount to rape?
These contemplations emerge in the wake of the published account of ‘Grace’, the pseudonym of a woman who briefly dated comedian Aziz Ansari some months ago. I opened the link hoping its headline was merely clickbait, wanting to believe that Ansari was the feminist he publicly seemed to want to be. But as I read, I saw that his guilt or innocence were not what was at stake. The larger stakes are about what people, women especially, experience while dating within a rape culture.
Even taking the position that what happened between Grace and Ansari may not meet the legal criteria for sexual assault, the profound unease of the situation and the distinct coercion and mounting disgust that Grace described cannot be dismissed as a lousy date.
‘Bad sex’ is when you wanted to sleep with someone but you lacked chemistry or one or both of you was unsatisfied (this can still be respectful). Performing sexual acts under pressure due to shock, fear of violence and imbalanced dynamics is not ‘just bad sex’. So what’s the correct term for it?
Again, I will say that I’m less interested in Ansari’s situation than in the big picture. Are unpleasant sexual encounters, with undercurrents of manipulation, common? Absolutely. But their prevalence does not make them acceptable. Let’s forget the celebrity angle, and the starstruck (and the other thing that rhymes with ‘starstruck’) angle. Take gender and orientation out of it, too. What’s left is a nebulous space in which a discomfiting number of memories lurk.
Affirmative, enthusiastic consent is not a grey area. This is. It’s from this space that many women’s confusion about how to react to Grace’s narrative comes from (this does not include backlash that is purely rape apologia). It can be very painful to acknowledge that some of one’s past experiences were damaging, or simply wrong. We do not know who Grace is, and cannot attribute personality traits to her, so our responses may be projections. These projections cannot simply be classified as internalised misogyny.
I truly believe that if the story was more explicitly violent, for example, most would lose their doubts. But it’s not a violent story like that. It’s a story in which a woman could have called the police from the bathroom, or screamed, or just left. And it’s a story in which she didn’t, but you’re certain that you would have. Or more accurately, you would now. Why? The truth is that it’s a familiar account, and to hear it told this way complicates, then unravels, certain precious memories or padlocked narratives. And that’s why it’s so very upsetting. Because if this is wrong, then what else is too? Let’s create the right language, the in-between words, for what is neither rape nor pleasure. It will help us heal.
The Chennai-based author writes poetry, fiction and more