experiences and problems of lesbians (Edwards 1994).10 In other minority cultures whose men and women establish primary, intimate relationships, the writing of men often abounds with images of their female counterparts, however stereotyped, objectified, or idealistic. In contrast, the writing of gay men is at times devoid of any awareness of, or reference to, lesbians and their lives. Thus, while the writing of other groups of men is prone to objectifying or fetishizing women in a manner that highlights their “Otherness,” the writing of gay men is often guilty of precisely the opposite offense: the erasure of lesbian specificity or difference, brought about by the mistaken belief that lesbians suffer from forms of oppression and, consequently, have needs and objectives that are identical to those of gay men.
On the one hand, therefore, gay scholarship is largely unhelpful in offering insight into the lives, experiences, and concerns of lesbians, including concerns surrounding identity and representation. On the other hand, such work cannot simply be dismissed. Many of the issues of discrimination faced by gay men and lesbians are similar, and the lesbian and gay rights movement has attempted at some levels to coordinate efforts among gay men and lesbians for common gains. Moreover, and perhaps most important, gay men and lesbians often remain undifferentiated in public discussions. This is true for many supporters as well as for those who would perpetrate violence against us (Phelan 1993). For these reasons, it is crucial that we acknowledge the ways in which gay male perspectives have shaped and continue to shape the lesbian and gay rights movement and in which gay male interests and images have reached the dominant culture, to a much greater extent than have lesbian concerns or representations.
Investigating lesbian representations provides an avenue for exploring the role of voice and visibility for gay men as well. Men who transgress traditional masculine gender expectations are often subject to greater censure than are women who are perceived as imitating men. For example, it is relatively acceptable and even stylish for a woman to dress in men’s clothing, including such traditional male apparel as a suit and tie. In contrast, men who dress in women’s clothing are swiftly and strongly reproached. The hatred of gay men is a fear of men who behave “as women.” Such men are seen as subjecting themselves sexually to another man, allowing themselves to be objectified, penetrated, and thus possessed by a man in the way that is expected of women. Where lesbians are hated for their strength, gay men are hated for their perceived weakness. Where lesbians are feared for their power, gay men are despised for occupying a position of powerlessness and thereby raising the possibility that any man might occupy such a position. Analysis of lesbian representations provides a much-needed link between feminist theory and gay studies, between two groups who too often fail to recognize the resemblance between their situations, either theoretically or materially.
Lesbians in Feminism
Historically, within much of feminist theory, gender has provided the primary (if not sole) lens through which to analyze structures of oppression. In response to the historical silencing of women’s voices, some feminist critics have sought out the lives and words of women who were neglected by traditional scholarship, at the same time developing approaches that value women’s contemporary experience and facilitate the telling of women’s stories. By emphasizing the distinctiveness of women’s ways of knowing, reasoning, speaking, and writing, these scholars often highlight differences between men and women and constitute women as a group with important shared characteristics (Belenky et al. 1986; Gilligan 1982; Showalter 1985).
In recent years, however, numerous writers have challenged the presumption that women’s interests are best served by representing themselves as a group defined by their resemblance to one another and their differences from men. Women of color, Third World women, Jewish women, workingclass women, and lesbians of all backgrounds have argued that their needs have been discounted by feminist critical approaches that ignore the differences among women in favor of a group identity. “Not all women experience sexism in the same way” (Anzaldúa 1990a, 219). Thus it is vital that we attend to the manner in which “class, culture, race, and sex intersect in various ways to produce different kinds of women, lesbians, and lesbian communities” (Sandoval 1982, 242).
Such an awareness suggests that the differences among women are of a significance equal to, if not greater than, our commonalities, and that the predominance of white, middle-class, heterosexual perspectives in the feminist movement has often silenced other women’s voices by glossing over such differences in the name of sisterhood. What is lost in succumbing to such illusory unity is the precision and incisiveness that enables a persuasive critique of oppression. As Cherrie Moraga cautions, “The danger lies in failing to acknowledge the specificity of the oppression” (1983, 29). Responding to the call for specificity, women who are multiply marginalized have begun to develop their own critical methods to explore texts from more complex and particular perspectives of race, class, and gender (see Anzaldúa 1990b; Collins 1991; Flores 1994; Lugones 1990; Minh-ha 1990; Rebolledo 1990).
The emphasis on articulating specific configurations of oppression has led to a form of lesbian politics grounded in reclaiming and celebrating marginalized elements of identity. Such a perspective identifies the multiple, hidden, and contrary positions as insiders and outsiders that characterize lesbian experience, resulting in the fragmentation of the self into various, sometimes conflicting compartments of identity (Anzaldúa 1990b; Frye 1983; Grahn 1984; Rich 1979). As Audre Lorde explains, “I find I am constantly being encouraged to pluck out some one aspect of myself and present this as the meaningful whole, eclipsing or denying the other parts of self. But this is a destructive and fragmenting way to live” (1984, 120). One way to counter this effect is to unite with others who are subject to the same forms of oppression, pursuing a politics that addresses multiple sources of marginalization and enables its adherents to be “all of who we are” (Beck 1982, xxx). In this way, the assertion of identity provides a crucial link between individual survival and political empowerment.
What such a politics of identity works against most clearly is assimilation, a loss of specificity that occurs when difference is diluted into the sameness of the dominant culture. A politics based on identity influences understandings of lesbian identity for both lesbians and nonlesbians. The question of how to conceive of identity is at once a compelling theoretical issue and a deeply personal one, marking a key tension in feminist, and especially lesbian feminist, theorizing. Understandings of identity provide the ground on which politics are organized and alliances forged, but they also shape most profoundly our sense of self, influencing our lives from our most private interactions to our most public acts. A politics based on identity often emphasizes the influence of characteristics rooted deep within us, identifying this inner depth as the source of the true selves and authentic voices that must be reclaimed, revealed, and celebrated.
Although white, middle-class lesbians have responded to mainstream feminism with much the same feeling of exclusion as have women marginalized by race or class, their situation differs in notable ways. Most centrally, whereas other groups of women have been historically (and in most cases, continue to be) underrepresented in the feminist movement, lesbians have been central to feminism from its earliest days and have actively participated in all of its undertakings. They have not always been visible as lesbians in these roles, sometimes because of individual choice but other times because of general anti-lesbian sentiment among feminists (Douglas 1990) or because their visibility as lesbians was seen as detrimental to the feminist movement (Kaye/Kantrowitz 1992;Mennis 1982; Rich 1986).
Nevertheless, despite the failure of the feminist movement to acknowledge or address many of the problems that lesbians face, some of the most influential, respected, and visible feminist writers have been lesbians. The very homophobia of the early women’s movement, as expressed by Betty Friedan’s labeling of lesbians as a “lavender herring” and, later, a “lavender menace,” testifies to the presence of large numbers of lesbians in the movement (Gomez 1995, 35). Thus a tension exists between the clear influence lesbians have had on feminist politics and theory and the feminist movement’s history of dismissing as “special interests” the concerns of lesbians.
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