Humanely Beautiful

“… there is nothing more humanly beautiful than a woman’s breasts. Nothing more humanely beautiful, nothing more humanely mysterious than why men should want to caress, over and over again, with paintbrush or chisel or hand, these oddly curved fatty sacs, and nothing more humanly endearing than our complicity ( I mean the complicity of women) in their obsession” ( Coetzee 150-151).

Some of you may have heard of Noble Peace Prize writer and academic J.M. Coetzee, he is well known for his novels and animal activism.  Recently, I finished reading his novel Elizabeth Costello, which tracks the  protagonist, an Australian novelist through a series of travel engagements to speak about her works and/or to visit with family.  Coetzee mysteriously reveals just enough about Elizabeth for the reader to be intrigued, but so little it is impossible to define the type of character she is.  In a surprising scene where Elizabeth details a past, hidden sexual encounter in a letter to her sister she explains her opinion on breasts, which I have quoted above.

These words were some of the most powerful in the novel.  Elizabeth showcases  that breasts not only make women what they are, but in fact make men appreciate what women are.  She or Coetzee, which is why this passage is so effective (both a male and female perspective shapes this discourse) break down the idea of breasts.  In the bare minimum they are “fatty sacs” not something when thought about to be immediately beautiful or even nice to look at. Yet, men obsess over them.  They are truly “mysterious.”  This is true because men do not have them.  Breasts indicate curves and men’s bodies are not curvy, breasts are the unknown. They are soft and supple and shapely and every other “S” word in the dictionary.  And as Elizabeth reveals, women add to this obsession we want our breasts to be adored.  We are complicit in the obsession.

At the bones, Elizabeth believes that breasts are the most beautiful part of the human body — the most beautiful thing we have to show, to offer, to cherish.  Perhaps it is this beauty she speaks of that has created the worldwide interest in breasts.  I believe Coetzee’s words deliver not only a homage to our breasts, but also remind us that they are not just sexual objects, but “fatty sacs” that give life and bring pleasure in a way that is extremely, humanely beautiful.

Coetzee, J.M. Elizabeth Costello. New York: Viking, 2003.

Jim Carrey’s Tittay Diddy

Rockin’ Rack

 

Hello Kitty + Titty

 

The Cup Size Choir

Breast Cancer and Artistic Relief

Breast cancer, for some women and some men, invokes a creative energy a desire to create through art pieces emblematic of the feelings the cancer causes. In her book Writing as a Way of Healing Louise DeSalvo includes in her chapter about writers who focus on wounded bodies the story of Erica Pedretti’s novel Valery and the Illbred Eye. In this novel, Pedretti discusses the painter Ferdinand Hodler.  The painter created portraits of his partner Valentine Gode-Darel while she was dying of breast cancer. Pedretti parallels her need to create art, while suffering from breast cancer, with Hodler’s need to paint Gode-Darel.  She writes, “I still breathe, draw, draw my horror, my fear of death…While drawing I am not afraid of anything other than my inability to record on paper what my eyes perceive” (qtd. in DeSalvo 201).

Hodler’s painting entitled “The Dying Gode-Darel” 1915

Pedretti and Hodler’s compulsion to create art in reaction to coping with disease has become more and more prevalent.  Still, this story moved me because it demonstrated not just the ill’s relationship with the disease, but also the caregiver’s reaction to it.  Often times these stories are not coupled, but I believe they present an important combined perspective that necessarily needs to be considered more often.  I am interested in discovering more stories like these, so please if you know of any or have experienced one share.

Image from: http://www.artistsandart.org/2010/05/ferdinand-hodler-1853-1918-swiss-art.html

DeSalvo, Louise. Writing as a Way of Healing: How Telling Our Stories Transforms Our Lives. Boston: Beacon Press, 1999.

Happy TurkeyBreast Day!

Some more art from Alison Bechdel!