The first Madonna album that I ever bought was I’m Breathless. It was not long before I shot my “Vogue Boy” video, and I was perusing through the cassette tapes at Front Row Video, which doubled as video store and record shop. It was here that my Madonna fandom truly began when I rented The Immaculate Collection VHS, and it was here that I desperately tried to find the album that contained “Vogue”. At that time I was more fond of Diana Ross & The Supremes than of contemporary Top 40 tunes, so I was shocked that my newfound anthem was on the album accompaniment to Dick Tracy. That film sparked my lifelong love affair with Madonna, but until that day in 1991, I had no idea that it was also semi-responsible for giving the world "Vogue". I almost immediately began working to make up for the sin of such ignorance: it was the beginning of a lifelong penance for failing to follow Madonna’s career until a decade after the rest of the world. By 1992, I was an expert in Madonna's work, eagerly anticipated the release of Erotica at the start of the fifth grade.
Erotica was the
first Madonna album that I ever owned on the day of its release. My Mom bought
it for me while I was at school that day in October, and it
was playing in her car when she picked me up. She enjoyed the music, but I don’t think she could hear
a lot of the lyrics: it got Mom-approval even though the track playing as I got in was “Why’s It So Hard”. Anyone familiar with the song knows it is an anthem about embracing humanity and abolishing societal divisions, but I would be fifteen before I figured out the title would be read by most casual listeners as an homage to
erections. I consider myself fortunate, for the
impact of its message superseded the hypothetical snickers of
those looking to keep Madonna propped up as a media punching bag.
The title track and “Bad Girl” were my favorite songs during the early days of my pubescence, and Erotica went on to become my fifth grade soundtrack. But I could not fathom why Madonna was attracting such scorn, or why my classmates were not as into Erotica as I was. Of course, all of my friends who were forced to listen to the album when I played it in my Mom’s car had a hard time convincing me they were not impressed. One friend, who constantly underwrote Madonna’s success and adamently declared her inferiority to Kriss Kross, once even asked to “put Marotica back on”. I laughed at the mistake he made regarding the title, but never forgot the pride I got from his request.
The title track and “Bad Girl” were my favorite songs during the early days of my pubescence, and Erotica went on to become my fifth grade soundtrack. But I could not fathom why Madonna was attracting such scorn, or why my classmates were not as into Erotica as I was. Of course, all of my friends who were forced to listen to the album when I played it in my Mom’s car had a hard time convincing me they were not impressed. One friend, who constantly underwrote Madonna’s success and adamently declared her inferiority to Kriss Kross, once even asked to “put Marotica back on”. I laughed at the mistake he made regarding the title, but never forgot the pride I got from his request.
Years later, I was thrilled
to discover that my Mom had bought Madonna's Sex book that very same week that Erotica was released. I came to find out that she and my
father got a big laugh out of the amusing photographs of
Madonna hitchhiking, parasailing, and eating pizza—all in Miami, all completely naked. I was sixteen when I found where the Sex book was hidden, and immediately began showing it to heterosexual male friends. I took a great deal of pleasure in proving my theory that Madonna’s appeal to
straight men was as potent and valid as her appeal to gay men. And I cannot say
that I did not take a great deal of pleasure in introducing said friends to the many pages of male homosexuality on display. It was not an attempt
to seduce or confuse said straight friends, and it certainly did not lead to
the sort of adolescent experimentation that I always heard about but never
actually experienced. But it gave me a sense of pride, for it forced my
friends to accept gay male sex as being as valid as the heterosexual/lesbian activity that drew them to the book in the first place. It spoke to the book’s undervalued role in
mobilizing modern gay liberation through art and eroticism, which I maintain is the most effective modus operandi for advancing progressive social values.
By my first year of college, the long out-of-print Sex had become a much sought-after collectible among Madonna fans, so my Mother surprised me with my
parents’ copy of Sex as a
housewarming gift for my new digs. I took it as another moment to feel extremely
grateful for having the coolest parents I could possibly ask for. I also took
it as an opportunity to cap off my first year at Emerson College
by freezing in time my appreciation for one of Madonna’s most vitally important
works of art.
Sourced largely from Madonna’s own words and one of my favorite books of all time, Matthew Rettenmund’s still definitive Encyclopedia Madonnica, this was one of my final
papers written at the very end of my first year at Emerson. The course was taught by Carla Sosenko, the brilliant and prolific author, blogger, and New Yorker whose impact on all of my
writing in the years since is utterly
invaluable. At nineteen, I was leaving behind the sincerity and creative fertility of my teen years and fine-tuning my self-expression in an attempt to be taken more seriously as a legitimate writer. In an attempt to preserve the purity of this college freshman perspective, I have amended very little.
This essay was written several months before I would see Madonna live for the first time, during her first-ever dates at The Boston Garden, on August 7th & 8th, 2001. A little-known secret that will make its way into a future blog: my first-ever sexual experience immediately followed the second of those two Drowned World Tour shows. This added a whole new dimension to how intertwined Madonna’s career has been in my evolution, and also insured nothing I would go on to write after that concert could ever be the same.
As such, this essay on Madonna's Sex represents my final work...as a virgin.
This essay was written several months before I would see Madonna live for the first time, during her first-ever dates at The Boston Garden, on August 7th & 8th, 2001. A little-known secret that will make its way into a future blog: my first-ever sexual experience immediately followed the second of those two Drowned World Tour shows. This added a whole new dimension to how intertwined Madonna’s career has been in my evolution, and also insured nothing I would go on to write after that concert could ever be the same.
As such, this essay on Madonna's Sex represents my final work...as a virgin.
Robert Jeffrey
Final Research Project, Spring 2001
In the
history of 20th century popular culture, arguably no figure has
emerged with more authority, controversy, and instant recognizability than
Madonna. In the history of Madonna’s career, Ray of Light is, without a
doubt, Madonna’s finest work of art. I would argue, however, that the vastly
different Sex is a close second. As someone who feels that sexuality
should be celebrated, appreciated, and explored, I applauded the release of
Madonna’s book and the message it carried with it. I was, however, in somewhat
of a minority, and remain part of a minority to this day. Yet the public
opinion that sex should not be celebrated is exactly what Madonna
attempted to expose when she crafted her 1992 masterpiece. That the similarly analytical Ray of Light was
actually used to condemn her earlier Sex in a subtle fashion merely
proves that the war waged by Madonna is far from over, and that sexism-and its
influence on contemporary society-still thrives today below the surface of pop
culture.
After her unprecedented success in
the Eighties, Madonna stormed into the Nineties with an astonishing line-up of
consecutive successes. The year 1990 saw the release of four future Top 10
singles, two of which went to #1, and one of which-“Vogue”-became her
bestselling song, shipping over 2 million copies in the US alone. She released
the concept album I’m Breathless in conjunction with Warren Beatty’s
epic comic book film, Dick Tracy, in which Madonna starred. The $25
million film went on to gross $100 million after a record-setting opening
weekend, while I’m Breathless went on to be Madonna’s fifth
multi-platinum album. That summer she embarked on her wildly successful and
highly publicized Blond Ambition tour, and later that year released
another multi-platinum record, The Immaculate Collection. The first
single from that album, “Justify My Love”, went to #1 on the Billboard charts
and sold one million copies in the US . However, its sexually graphic
video was deemed so racy that MTV refused to air it, stirring a national
debate. In the wake of the controversy, Madonna released the promotional clip
for the song as a $10 “video single”, which went on to sell 800,000 copies.
(Rettenmund 80, 95, 184, 87, 49-50, 22,
88, 93-4).
The year 1990
was the perfect embodiment of everything that Madonna had represented in the
1980s: music, movies, success, fame, sex, controversy, money, and superstardom.
This, however, merely scraped the surface, for three of her major releases that
year-I’m Breathless, Blond Ambition, and the “Justify My Love
Video”-would serve to foreshadow with shocking clarity the direction Madonna’s
career would travel over the course of the ensuing decade. I’m Breathless
was an album that told a sort of “life story” of Breathless Mahoney, the
character Madonna portrayed in Dick Tracy. Each song offered a glimpse
into the psyche of the character and into the world she lived in. Blond
Ambition was a revolutionary performance that showcased not only Madonna’s
singing talents, but her flair for theater as well. With numerous costume and
set changes, she used her music as a backdrop to explore issues of sexuality,
power, money, religion, family, and identity as they exist in society. And
while Madonna’s most controversial video up until that point may have had the
world “love” in its title, the “Justify My Love” music video offered a
surprisingly dark and gritty portrayal of overt sexuality and sadomasochistic
practice. The themes of each project-performance through alternative mediums,
the pursuit of understanding and truth through performance, and the use of
sexuality in such a pursuit, would ultimately be encompassed in the most
controversial work of Madonna’s career: Sex.
Madonna’s first literary work, Sex,
is perhaps impossible to put a label on. It is at once humorous, erotic,
shocking, and audacious. Presented as an oversized coffee table book, its thick
pages are bound between sheets of metal by a notebook spiral. Within are a
collection of nude poses, pages of “softcore” photographs, letters, song
lyrics, musings, a sexual comic strip, a racy CD single, and erotic fiction.
The book was written by Madonna, photographed by Steven Meisel (Madonna 1), and
told through the lens of Madonna’s alter ego: “Dita Parlo” (Rettenmund 158).
When Sex
hit bookstores in October of 1992, “the book that nobody was sure would
sell sold 150,000 copies in the U.S.
on its first day” (Rettenmund 157). In its first week out, it topped the
list of the nation’s Twenty Five best-selling books, selling more copies than
the combined total of the 24 books below its rank despite a hefty $49.95 price
tag. The book went on to sell 1.5 million copies worldwide, and sold out its
lone U.S.
print by the end of the year (Rettenmund 157). Despite its unprecedented
success, record breaking business was not the focus of discussions on the book.
The first
line of Sex would be its most incessantly quoted: “This book is about
sex. Sex is not love. Love is not sex” (Madonna 2). However, most Americans
were left asking the inevitable question: what is Sex? The book was
widely promoted in the months before its publication as being a collection of
Madonna’s own sexual fantasies, a misleading notion that nonetheless managed to
leave many heterosexual male readers disappointed (Rettenmund 157, 161).
Madonna asserted that sexual titillation was hardly her intent in writing the
book. “It was never meant to be this incredibly hot, arousing, erotic piece of
porn. In fact, I was poking fun at everybody’s prejudices about other people’s
sexualities and their own sexuality” (St. Michael 98). However this
intellectual pursuit in the wake of its graphic content raised the bar for
Madonna’s task. “The Sex hype promised..[a] great, revolutionary work of
art” (Sischy 212). Whether or not the book lived up to such a promise would be
the topic of much Sex-ual discussion
in the years following its release.
Interestingly
enough, some of the most scathing criticisms of Sex came from the very
same people whom one might expect to be adept at supporting Madonna. “Sex was
published to considerable public outcry, but little public concern. The right
wing kept quiet, allowing left-wingers to crucify the suddenly radical pop star
and her dirty book” (Rettenmund 157). According to its editor, Holly
George-Warren, “from the beginning Rolling Stone was as fascinated by
Madonna as were its readers” (Rolling Stone xi). Yet despite their
frequent and longstanding support of Madonna, the magazine criticized Sex for,
it would seem, its lack of eroticism. The book is described as “cheesy”, with
“campy fashion-ad photos” and “erotic text so dumb..that it makes the dialogue
from an X-rated Ginger Lynn movie sound like vintage Anais Nin. Sex is,
forgive the expression, an anticlimax” (Rolling Stone 212).
Another
active supporter who offered that Sex didn’t go far enough is
controversial feminist Camille Paglia. In an article entitled “Madonna-Finally,
A Real Feminist”, Paglia declared Madonna “the true feminist”. Paglia points
out that she “exposes the Puritanism and suffocating ideology of American
feminism” while teaching “young women to be fully female and sexual while still
exercising total control over their lives” (Paglia 168). This support of
Madonna’s brand of feminism lay at the root of her criticism of the Sex book.
“Sex should have been a major achievement, documenting and exploring
Madonna’s important artistic ideas for her core audience and a whole new one,
the serious reading public who doesn’t listen to pop music and whose view of
Madonna is a tabloid caricature” (Paglia 367). Paglia criticizes a “long..list
of bad or mediocre pictures” and its “jumbled and gimmicky” assembly (Paglia
369, 367), but still manages to “find glints and glimmers of the
book-that-might-have-been” (Paglia 368).
Despite her
criticism of the book’s composition, Paglia did offer high praise for “the
important issues it raises”, namely “the relation of love to lust [and] the
sluttishness of the fully sexual woman” (Paglia 369). “Madonna boldly attacks
feminist ideology head on. I applaud her” (Paglia 368). She offers strong support of Madonna’s blunt
depiction of sadomasochism (Paglia 368), particularly her statements in which
she links domestic abuse to S&M.. “I
think for the most part if women are in abusive relationships and they know it and
they stay in it, they must be digging it. I’m sure there are a lot of women in
abusive relationships who don’t want to be..but I have friends who have money
and are educated and they stay in abusive relationships, so they must be
getting something out of it” (Madonna 27). Although Madonna is writing from the
perspective of a fictional character, Paglia applauds this “psychological truth
ignored in our victim-obsessed culture”. Paglia also praises Madonna’s musing
on pornography. “I don’t see how a guy looking at a naked girl in a magazine is
degrading to women. Everyone has their sexuality. It’s how you treat people in
everyday life that counts, not what turns you on in your fantasy. I love
looking at Playboy magazine because women look great naked” (Madonna
16). Paglia suggests that such a statement is indicative of Madonna’s
revolutionary brand of feminist thinking. “The Puritanism of American feminism
is proved by the failure of the pro-porn wing to publicly embrace the men’s sex
magazines” (Paglia 368).
While
Camille Paglia may cheer on Madonna’s S&M enactments, some critics did not
share her view. In a forum discussion that coincided with the book’s release,
the Boston Phoenix asked a number of prominent feminists in the Boston area to comment on
the book. Gail Dines, a professor at Wheelock
College and “a vocal
anti-pornography activist” (Knapp 4) was among this group. Dines said that she
felt “angry” while reading the book. “Madonna is using the common pornographic
terms in this society and all she’s doing is mainstreaming pornography. This is
no feminist account of sexuality; Madonna is using the patriarchal paradigm of
sexuality, and I think what she’s doing is unbelievably dangerous to
women…[she] is refining things like violence and S&M, and legitimizing
them, and…saying that this is acceptable” (Knapp 4). Lynn Courier, a
choreographer, was also one of the more critical members of this discussion.
Courier describes Madonna as “the summation of how disturbed our culture is…the
embodiment of a conflicted female”, and the product of “the mixed messages
women are brought up with” (Knapp 4). Courier argues that Madonna is mixing
what she thinks of as “images of sexual freedom and women being in control with
a lot of images that are totally patriarchal and violent and representative of
the subordination of women. I feel like the book reduces something that should
be exciting and intimate into a simple question of power, which is what
pornography does. There is a way to celebrate female sexuality and the female
body without exploiting and using the same images that men have used for years”
(Knapp 4, 5).
Another
common area of criticism regarding the book was its frank depiction of
homosexuality. The book’s first 15 pages contain eight full pages of Madonna
engaging in acts of bondage with two “lesbian skinheads” (Madonna 8-15). Among
the book’s ensuing gay content are fictional letters Madonna writes to a male
lover about her lesbian experiences (Madonna 33, 51); photographs of a naked
Madonna embracing an androgynously dressed Isabella Rosselini and photographs
of the two of them frolicking naked in a swimming pool (Madonna 88-9); and,
perhaps most controversial of all, a 9-page spread of naked male models in
various sexual acts (Madonna 58-67). This drew some of the most wildly varied
reactions among critics. Camille Paglia pointed out the book’s “theme of
bisexuality, or sensuality in general, as a liberated view of life. The book
has Freud’s ‘polymorphous perversity’, the infant’s indiscriminate total
responsiveness” (Paglia 368). Participating in the Boston Phoenix forum,
Jane Shattuc, a film professor at Emerson
College , offered a
similar response by noting that Madonna “does..offer representation. There’s
Madonna with gay men and Madonna with straight men and Madonna with women. She
at least says that we’re not all clean-jean heterosexual nuclear families,
which I think is good” (Knapp 5). Lynn Courier contested, offering that the
book has Madonna “showing a very raw kind of sexuality, out of context of any
kind of intimacy. She is not showing the whole essence of humanity, or of gay
or lesbian culture” (Knapp 5). Scott Cardwell, a Boston Phoenix editor
who also participated in the discussion, pointed out that “there are thousands
and thousands of homosexual men who have sex and don’t tie each other up. I
mean, she is showing stereotypes” (Knapp 5).
When Sex
was released in the Fall of 1992, Madonna explained her take on the work.
“I never meant it to be the definitive statement on the most erotic fantasies
ever made, and it’s not meant to be taken so seriously. On the other hand, it
is” (Rettenmund 161). This somewhat amusing dichotomy, seemingly impossible to
interpret on the outset, is actually the defining statement about Sex: the book itself and its social
impact. Madonna’s statement implies that sexual fantasy and depictions of
sexuality should not be “taken so seriously”, that they are natural and human
and acceptable. As such, the contents of the book shouldn’t be analyzed.
Yet readers were inclined to take the book at face value, and while critics
thought themselves adept at analyzing and criticizing its every page, many
displayed their prudishness and prejudices in the content of their reviews.
Caryn James of The New York Times asserted that “some of us actually
like the opposite sex” (Rettenmund 160). QW magazine’s Daniel
Mendelsohn, apparently mistaking the book for hardcore pornography, wrote that
“Sex reveals the erotic imagination as daring as that of a middle-aged Westchester housewife out to shock the girls on Bingo
night” (Rettenmund 161).
For all the high minded
deconstruction and flashy vocabulary offered by critics, it would appear that
most of them—not unlike the mainstream public—were mistaking the work as
pornography, and judging it as such. In one of the more accurate assessments of
the book, Kerig Pope of Playboy pointed out that “I’ve seen lots of
pornography. This is not pornography. This book is about how sex is involved in
the culture” (Rettenmund 159). Madonna herself felt that this misconception
played a role in the public’s failure to understand the book. “I’m sure lots of
men were completely offended by all those pictures in my book of two men
getting it off”. As a result of failing to adhere to the expected conventions
of (heterosexual) pornography, “there’s probably a lot of men out there who
really aren’t quite sure what to think of me” (St. Michael 99). Years later, it
would appear that Sex is perhaps as misunderstood as it was in 1992. In
a 1998 article for Vanity Fair, Ingrid Sischy described the book as
“pure titillation, a calculated matter, a rip-off of those who had genuinely
put themselves on the line to fight AIDS-era repression” (Sischel 212).
In the end, Sex was not so
much a book as it was a catalyst for the very controversy that continues to
shroud it, a controversy that underlines the very issue that Madonna was
raising in the first place. “Everyone went out and bought Sex, it was
sold out in two seconds. And then everybody slogged me off. That, to me, is a
statement of the hypocrisy of the world that we live in. The fact that
everybody is so interested in sex but won’t admit it. I made my point
completely and people know I made my point and that’s why they’re so pissed off
at me” (St. Michael 98). After the critical drubbing had finally ebbed, Madonna
still had no regrets about her work. She considers the book the most enjoyable
project of her career (ICON 22), has no regrets about her social statement,
refusing to give in to negative critical sentiment because “even as a child, I
never felt my ideas were terribly popular”(Smith 107). Although it never
escaped the shadow of controversy, and perhaps has yet to be fully understood
and appreciated, Sex was one of the boldest and most significant statements
of 20th century popular culture. Never before had a person of such
celebrity status taken such a professional risk. It is not likely that it will
ever happen again in the near future, yet it speaks for Madonna’s true devotion to her craft. “I will explain
to [my daughter] that the Sex book is a work of art—underlining the
importance of irony and provocation in an artist’s life” (St. Michael 99).
While Sex stirred up a whirling mass of controversy, critique, and analysis,
Madonna’s 13th album was “her first universally applauded critical
success (Flick 49)”. A monumental achievement that drifts effortlessly between
relentless danceability and soothing balladry, Ray of Light would serve
as the beginning of a new chapter in Madonna’s career. Whereas Sex successfully
attempted to expose the underbelly of American sexuality and societal
hypocrisy, Ray of Light offered a more personal and intimate exploration
of Madonna herself. The album recalls her most introspective (and critically
acclaimed) album up to that point, the brilliant, semi-autobiographical Like
A Prayer. The Like A Prayer album dealt with such tender issues as
the death of Madonna’s mother, her divorce from Sean Penn, her troubled
relationship with her father and other men in her life, and her complicated
affiliation with Catholicism. Yet whereas that album was essentially based upon
the past and its effects on the present, Ray of Light is rooted in the
moment but focused on what lay ahead.
Ray of
Light begins with the frequently quoted song “Drowned World/Substitute For
Love”, an intensely personal reflection on the price of fame and the factors
that drive people to seek it. Yet it also draws a parallel between fame and
other “substitutes for love”, Madonna’s term for comfort devices used by those
who lack love in their lives. The message of
“Drowned World/Substitute For Love” sets the tone for the entire album.
Although intensely personal in many respects, it is also ambiguous enough that
listeners can place the lyrics in the context of their own lives. This sense of
understanding and unity underlines the distinctly spiritual element of the
album. The album touches upon themes of love, sensuality, enlightenment,
euphoria, loss, sin, redemption, and parentage, yet it is the album’s non-secular
religiosity that is most prominent. The album begins with the verse “You see?”,
spoken by a rabbi with a sense of paternal compassion. His simple yet
enlightening words embody the notion that one must live to learn. Each song
represents some sort of growth, resulting from both positive and negative
experiences, and voluntary and involuntary choices, and the album as a whole
illustrates Madonna’s own spiritual journey and personal evolution. Set to a
backdrop of richly textured electronic soundscapes, the music of Ray of
Light is every bit as surreal and intoxicating as the spiritual awakening
it so vividly describes.
In sharp
contrast to the reception received by Sex some five and a half years
prior, Ray of Light was released to glowing reviews. Vanity Fair’s
Ingrid Sischy offered that “with its techno productions evoking intergalactic
sights and spiritual insights, Ray of Light is completely of the moment.
[Madonna’s] lyrics…are more personal than ever. Like a heroine in a serial,
Madonna seduces us with the drama of her evolution and her life force. And
frequently it’s riveting pop art” (Sischy 270, 208). Steve Dougherty of People
Magazine described the album as being “complex, challenging, and ultimately
entrancing music” which he pointed out “may do for electronica…what U2 and
other dabblers have failed to do: popularize it without sacrificing its sense
of edgy danger” (Dougherty 29). Karen Schoemer of Newsweek dubbed Ray
of Light “the most human music [Madonna’s] ever made. Her singing has genuine
force and clarity. We’ve watched macho rockers…screech and skid into middle
age. What a thrill it is to watch the premier diva of the 80s fight to grow up
and stay relevant. Judging by Ray of Light, she’s doing a hell of a job”
(Schoemer 77).
Sex is
Madonna’s boldest, most groundbreaking work of art. It eclipses even her
previous milestone, the spectacular and thoroughly innovative Blond Ambition
tour. What is most striking about the book—even more so today than when it
was first released—is the audacity that Madonna herself had in order to take
part in such an unbelievably provocative and commercially risky project. Some
critics argued that Madonna was “going too far” and exploiting shock value for
profit. However, such a condemnation reeks of unsurpassed naiveté. For an
international superstar of Madonna’s stature to pose in a book of explicit nude
photographs was unheard of at the time, and remains so today. (Can one picture,
for example, box office draw Julia Roberts
releasing her own nude photo spread?) What makes Madonna’s work even
more startling and culturally significant is that it was her brainchild. She dictated the scenario of each photograph, wrote
every line of text in the book, and oversaw every aspect of production,
packaging, and promotion. Her candor and honesty is not something to be ashamed
of, as the Puritanically influenced “liberal” critics might suggest. Rather, it
is something to aspire towards. Madonna provokes her audience to explore and
discuss issues that exist within society and art. In many ways, this could be
described as the true role of an artist.
What’s more unique and fascinating
about Sex is that she then forces
the audience to look inward at the actual discussions she has provoked, to
further question why explicit sexuality should be such a taboo subject that it inevitably
warrants analysis in the first place. The majority of Madonna’s work and life—from
her song “Material Girl” to her film Evita to her own maternity—has been
scrutinized, analyzed, and critiqued. What makes Sex so different from
the rest of her work (aside from being the most provocative and “shocking”) is
that it marked the first time that she actually baited her critics. The book
was intended to incite national
discussion about the issues it portrayed, and the optimistic Madonna probably
felt that it would ultimately serve to promote an acceptance and understanding
of human sexuality. Sadly, she underestimated her art while overestimating the
intelligence of the American public.
Failing to recognize their own
prudishness in the wake of the book’s controversy, the majority of critics and
consumers reverted to condemning Madonna. Rather than acknowledge Madonna’s
artistic credibility in writing the book, or at least making an attempt to
understand her message, most Americans seemed inclined to brand Madonna with a
scarlet letter. Madonna herself recalled the period in a 1997 interview with Rolling
Stone magazine. “People didn’t attack me in a personal way before the book.
After the book, they did. I’m talking about criticizing everything from my choice
of men to my body—things that have nothing to do with my work. I think that not
only men but women responded in a really hostile way. I found myself the
subject of any interview done with a female. Writers used to just throw my name
up there to get six paragraphs of sensationalistic journalism” (Hirshey 98).
The Sex book
marked a rather fascinating period in Madonna’s career: it was one of
Madonna’s three high profile projects that dealt with the role that sexuality
plays in America. The other two were her Erotica album, released at the
same time, and the 1993 film Body of Evidence. Body of Evidence was the
least commercially successful of the three works, but perhaps it was the most
entertaining. This is largely because it was not actually “a Madonna project”.
Though she headlined the all-star cast and initially promoted the film as one
of her best, her participation was primarily limited to her performance.
Additionally, she completed the project before working on her album and book,
canceling the media’s notion of it being a final chapter in some sort of
trilogy.
While these three works did not necessarily
represent a calculated era in Madonna’s career, they did represent an era in
her life when she was fascinated and frustrated by a nation’s uncomfortability
with all things sexual. With Erotica, she executed this intent though
exploring the dark, pessimistic view of sexuality in an America ravaged by AIDS-hysteria.
In Body of Evidence, she voluntarily took part in what may have been the
most sexually explicit Hollywood film of all time, and attempted to elevate
such a feature into the realm of high art. And with Sex, she combined
the intentions of the aforementioned projects-and took them to the next level.
She sent up conventions of pornography, womanhood, and fame, all for the sake
of crafting a new realm of art in which the ensuing discussion served as part
of the total experience.
After the
release of Ray of Light, the media was quick to label Madonna with such
terms as “The Ethereal Girl” for her newfound interest in spiritual fulfillment
(Dougherty 208). Billboard Magazine described the multi-platinum success of the
album and its singles as proof that “after a nearly a decade of controversial
sexual titillation, fans were more than ready for a spiritually enlightened
Madonna” (Flick 88). Clearly, Madonna was a much happier person in 1998 than
she was in 1992. She admitted to being rid of the anxiety that plagued her
regarding her role in culture and the negative light cast upon sexuality in America .
Her interests were now invested in maternity (between Sex and Ray of
Light she gave birth to daughter Lourdes Maria) and spirituality, a much
more fulfilling focus that brought her inner-peace and personal fulfillment.
Yet she did not turn her back on her sexually charged work in the early 90s,
nor was her spiritual journey the calculated career move that cynical critics
cited as a response to the Sex backlash. As Madonna herself bluntly put
it, “I dealt with my sexual rebellion. I worked it out of my system. But while
I do feel spiritually enlightened, and while my daughter has completely changed
my life, I haven’t become a saint! I’m the same person. Only better, I hope”
(Smith 106).
Madonna herself argued that while Sex
evidenced her rebelliousness and frustration—not to mention her distinct
sense of dry humor—it was also a unique feminist statement. “Sexuality has
always been forced down our throats,” she stated, “but it’s always been from a
male perspective. The woman is always objectified. And in this circumstance, it
was the opposite” (Hirshey 98). Madonna felt it was her responsibility as an
artist to inform and enlighten American culture about the merits of sexual
liberation and understanding through her own public rejection of conventional
celebrity roles. This stance was, in fact, not so far off from the one she took
with her Ray of Light album, albeit from a very different perspective.
In 1992, Madonna was a thirty-four
year old woman attempting to understand sexuality and a woman’s role in it through
a work of art that was as raw and uncompromising as anything ever released in
America. In 1998, she was a thirty-nine year old mother celebrating the beauty
and joy of her maternal side, an exhilaration that she presented to her
audience visa vi an album that explored motherhood and spirituality with the
intensity with which her 1992 book had analyzed sex. Both projects were
commercial successes, but only Ray of Light was a critical success. She
was applauded for her introspective delve into the realm of maternity, but
punished for offering such a glaring depiction of sex in America, and for
further “turning the mirrors” on those that criticized her (Hirshey 98). In a
“postmodern” age that is supposed to be devoid of the rampant sexism and gender
typecasting that plagued many previous decades, it would appear that society
has changed very little from the days when women were not encouraged to venture
outside of the homestead. While Madonna’s life as a mother (and now a wife) is
certainly happier than it was during her era of sexual rebellion, her stature
as an artist remains untouched. To suggest that Ray of Light is an
artistic advancement miles ahead of Sex, as so many critics did, only
serves to reiterate the point that Madonna was making a decade ago.
Works Cited
Hirshey, Geri.
“The Women of Rock Interviews: Madonna”.
Rolling
Stone Nov. 1997: 98.
Madonna,
Ray of Light. 1998.
Madonna. Sex. New York : Warner Books,
1992.
Paglia, Camille. Vamps
and Tramps. New York :
Vintage Books, 1994.
Rettenmund,
Matthew. Encyclopedia Madonnica. New York :
St. Martin ’s Press, 1995.
Rolling Stone
Magazine. Madonna: The Rolling Stone Files. New York : Hyperion, 1997.
Sischy, Ingrid.
“Madonna and Child”. Vanity Fair March 1998: 206-12.
Smith, Liz.
“Madonna Grow Up”. Good Housekeeping April 2000: 104-107.
St. Michael, Mick.
Madonna: In Her Own Words. Great Britain : Omnibus Press, 1999.

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