Transforming Boundaries
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Evolution |
Femborgs and History
So who is she anyway, this cyborg queen? From what mythology does she
arise?
In
Envisioning Cyborg Bodies, Jennifer Gonzales presents this nineteenth
century image of the Mistress of Horology and asks: is she trapped by
the technology or liberated through it? My answer is: both. Gonzales notes
that "Her impled space of agency is tightly circumscribed." Certainly,
she can't move about very effectively, but to compensate, she always has
time within her control. Of course there will be sacrifices, there will
be scars, but we must seek ways to minimize the sacrifices and balance
them with adaptive advantages. In this early female cyborg, the balance
is clearly a bit of;, she doesn't have a tremendous advantage given the
extent of her constriction, and it is not so surprising that a man drew
this image.
There is a visual history of connection between woman and machine. Many
early machines were highly feminized. Fear of technology was correlated
to fear of female sexuality. Feminized robots and female cyborgs could
"fuel male illusions of ownership and control over technology and the
Other, to compensate for his own loss of control within industrial and
information economies."
Yet Frankenstein's monster, often considered one of the earliest cyborgs,
is deeply rooted in male identity. And in the 20th century, the majority
of popular cyborg images in fiction and film are based on extensions to
a male body.
More
powerful and independent female cyborgs have been makingmore conspicuous
appearances in our visual landscape: in the 70's TV's bionic woman shortly
followed the bionic man. In Aliens, the main character Ripley dons this
cyborg apparatus for female nurturing role, protecting the child Newt.
More
recently the powerful Borg Queen made her preimer in Star Trek: First
Contact. Star Trek:Voyager's Seven of Nine is a former "borg" learning
to reintegrate her humanity.
But
femborgs are still largely confined to the world of obscure sci fi or
fashion, like the overtly sexual designs by Thierry Mugler. They still
take a back seat to their well known male counterparts: the Terminators
and Robo Cops. And they still fit rather neatly into what a friend once
called "every geek boy's wet dream."
There is still conflict between desire and deep rooted fear of the female
cyborg. As Sadie Plant notes: "Masculine identity has everything to lose
from this new technics. The sperm count falls as the replicants stir and
the meat learns how to learn for itself."
Donna Haraway's "Cyborg Manifesto", and Sadie Plant's "Zeros And Ones"
were a call to arms for women to "climb into the belly of the beast".
In the 80s their writings empowered a whole generation of cyberfeminists.
They helped women reclaim technology and the history of pioneering women
technologists, and elucidated on the link between woman->hybrid->cyborg.
They warned that technology was NOT solely a male prerogative, but that
if we didn't take an active role in shaping it now it would become so
in the future.
Donna Haraway, noted for launching cyborg conceptual terrain into the
realm of cultural criticism, says that cyborg identity "is about the power
to survive not on the basis of innocence, but on the basis of seizing
the tools to mark the world that marked them as other."
Technology has long been a male dominated persuasion. Perhaps this is
in part because it is often seen as a force with which to conquer nature,
which is in itself is such a profoundly feminine, creative force. And
yet: humans are creatures of nature, no matter how much our culture has
tried to separate us from it, all of our actions and constructions are
ultimately a product of nature. This is not a value judgement: nature
is neither good nor bad, but it is the rule. You never know, as George
Carlin says, perhaps humans are really just nature's way of making plastic.
For
many, the metaphoric lesson in Mary Shelly's Frankenstein is that man's
drive to conquer nature can produce destructive monsters that can't be
controlled. For me, the lesson is: don't let the man produce the monster
by himself. When Frankenstein wants to pursue his reanimation experiments
to the next level, his wife asks him to walk away from the research. The
man just discovered how to cheat death: unlikely he will walk away. Would
you? I wouldn't. Why does she not, instead, ask to walk with him, in his
journey of discovery? Perhaps together they could have found a point of
balance, between the life affirming possibilities of his experiments and
the destructive capabilities of its potential.
Transforming Boundaries
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Evolution |
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