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rfmcdonaldAnyone at all plugged into American pop culture knows about the enormously controversial song and video "Love the Way You Lie," featuring Eminem and Rihanna.
Yes, the song features the steely rhythms of Rihanna (a victim of partner abuse) and Eminem's great delivery (a possible perpetrator, the emotions famously depicted in his chilling song "'97 Bonnie and Clyde" covered to such great effect by Tori Amos). It's a great song, even if the lyrics certainly aren't the kind that you'd sing to yourself.
Or this.
The Grumpy Sociologist made an interesting point in a recent very well sourced and researched post, about the many ways in which the violences described in the music and shown in the video can be received. It's quite possible to read this song in ways that don't involve criticisms of domestic violence.
There's a lot of discomfort with this song and video out there in the wider world. I'd like to suggest that this discomfort comes from the ways in which the song's two characters try to rationalize their sufferings and their conflicts to themselves and each other, trying to convince each other that it's worth it. Isn't that the sort of creeping justification for bad things, both careful and careless, that can happen in relationships generally? It might be too thin a line for many; it certainly can be for some.
Yes, the song features the steely rhythms of Rihanna (a victim of partner abuse) and Eminem's great delivery (a possible perpetrator, the emotions famously depicted in his chilling song "'97 Bonnie and Clyde" covered to such great effect by Tori Amos). It's a great song, even if the lyrics certainly aren't the kind that you'd sing to yourself.
Just gonna stand there
And watch me burn
But that's alright
Because I like
The way it hurts
Just gonna stand there
And hear me cry
But that's alright
Because I love
The way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
Or this.
You ever love somebody so much
You can barely breathe
When you're with them
You meet
And neither one of you
Even know what hit 'em
Got that warm fuzzy feeling
Yeah them chills
Used to get 'em
Now you're getting fucking sick
Of looking at 'em
You swore you've never hit 'em
Never do nothing to hurt 'em
Now you're in each other's face
Spewing venom
And these words
When you spit 'em
You push
Pull each other's hair
Scratch, claw, bit 'em
Throw 'em down
The Grumpy Sociologist made an interesting point in a recent very well sourced and researched post, about the many ways in which the violences described in the music and shown in the video can be received. It's quite possible to read this song in ways that don't involve criticisms of domestic violence.
In my dissertation, adolescent research participants spoke quite openly about the ways they saw IPV as completely normal. These were teens who had experienced multiple forms of violence throughout their lives (peer, family, romantic, drug, physical, verbal) -- certainly not the average college student. I wonder what their interpretations would be.
[. . .]
Since people with different social histories interpret popular culture differently, I'd be interested to see how young people from different demographics digest this song and video. Do the cultural artifacts problematize IPV (the stated intent) or further normalize and perpetuate this form of violence?
Or, as indicated by the radio DJ, does this video mobilize codes that perpetuate misunderstandings about co-occurring violence in intimate relationships? For instance, too many people assume that when males and females hit each other, the physical ramifications are equally harmful. Does the video gloss over the fact that verbal abuse, social isolation, and other forms of control (e.g., forcing what a partner wears) can be more damaging than physical violence?
There's a lot of discomfort with this song and video out there in the wider world. I'd like to suggest that this discomfort comes from the ways in which the song's two characters try to rationalize their sufferings and their conflicts to themselves and each other, trying to convince each other that it's worth it. Isn't that the sort of creeping justification for bad things, both careful and careless, that can happen in relationships generally? It might be too thin a line for many; it certainly can be for some.
