Voyeurism in the Erotic Landscapes
In the vast landscape of human sexuality, voyeurism stands as a captivating yet contentious element. It's a subject that stirs curiosity, ignites debate, and challenges societal norms. Yet, within the realms of kink and sexual exploration, voyeurism can be a fruitful discussion.
However, before we can delve into the act, we must preface that we are not condoning the non-consensual gaze that preys on unassuming individuals. What I (and Strike) don’t want to endorse is a Joe Goldberg-vibe (from You). Get it? We do not want you to even consider that stalking is okay. Any non consensual act, including voyeurism and stalking, is predatory and unacceptable. In this piece, we are just discussing consenting individuals in voyeurism.
First, what most of us conceive of voyeurism can be illustrated in You. You is a thriller novel by Caroline Kepnes, published in September 2014 and later adapted into a Lifetime series in September 2018. We follow Joe Goldberg, an overall narcissistic and judgy bookstore owner, and of course, if you have watched the show, a serial killer and stalker.
In sex where consent and boundaries are key, in a healthy relationship with both one’s own body and their partner(s) in mind, voyeurism as a form of sex is interesting to explore. After all, most wouldn’t constitute “watching” as sex. In fact in our world, there is so much discourse on what is “real” sex. Can lesbians lose their virginities if it’s not penetrative sex? Can gay men have sex, if it’s not a woman and a man? And if you have heard of soaking, where someone jumps on the bed for you to mimic thrusting (thank you Brigham Young University TikTok), is it even considered sex if you don’t move your body?
Posing this within critical frames, feminist discourse invites us to critically examine the act of voyeurism, particularly in its non-consensual forms. It forces us to confront uncomfortable truths about the objectification of bodies and the perpetuation of the male gaze. Look for example, how “Beck” is reduced to a singular identity to Goldberg, a future girlfriend and even seductress. This is apparent when he takes the underwear she leaves as a sign of interest towards him–a “gift.” Almost like a cheesy porn plot, where the woman is sexually available to the man.
Also within feminist thought, there exists a nuanced conversation around agency and empowerment. In reclaiming one's own gaze and embracing consensual voyeurism, individuals can challenge traditional power dynamics and assert autonomy over their bodies and desires. Queer theory offers an additional perspective, urging us to deconstruct normative notions of sexuality and desire. Through the lens of queer theory, voyeurism becomes a site of resistance against binary frameworks and heteronormative constraints. It provides space for exploring alternative expressions of pleasure and intimacy.
Once again, let’s not confuse the erotic allure of consensual voyeurism with the disturbing behavior of invasive surveillance. The former celebrates mutual consent and communication, while the latter violates personal boundaries and undermines trust. It's essential to draw a clear distinction between the two and to prioritize ethical conduct and respect for autonomy in all sexual encounters.
In conclusion, voyeurism in the erotic landscape offers a rich terrain for exploration, reflection, and dialogue. By centering discussions around consent, and agency, we can foster a culture of sexual liberation that honors the diverse desires and experiences of all individuals. After all, within sex, so many times have we designated something as inherently deviant (i.e queerness) and historically deviant (i.e. women’s pleasure) are a apparatus of minoritization. And for the final time: do not be a Joe Goldberg!
Strike Out,
St. Louis
Written by: David Win
Edited by: Emily Bekesh