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This chapter examines the intersections between #MeToo, crime fiction, and LGBTQ+ themes. LGBTQ+ representation is a key issue in crime fiction in the age of #MeToo. However, as Jess Ison and others state, queer communities have been marginalized from the #MeToo debates which have focused on cis gender white women. As Tarana Burke points out, “[w]omen of color, transwomen, queer people—our stories get pushed aside,” whereas the #MeToo movement must be for all genders and colors, and gender and sexuality outside white cis heteronormativity must receive more attention. The #MeToo movement is working to rectify this, by thinking intersectionally and inclusively—what Guadalupe-Diaz and Whalley call “queering #MeToo.” My book argues that LGBTQ+ perspectives are central to the #MeToo movement and fourth-wave feminism, and that these perspectives are bringing crucial innovations to crime fiction in the form of positive and more complex representation. The final two chapters of this book investigate LGBTQ+ representation in the genre, specifically in relation to #MeToo themes. Contemporary crime fiction examines how LGBTQ+ people are the victims of sexual crime or homophobic or transphobic crime, using plots and characters to portray and expose these forms of crime. Furthermore, in contemporary crime fiction, LGBTQ+ people are crucial to solving crime and achieving justice for victims. They are often portrayed as victims of crime often specifically related to their identity, but importantly they are also the solvers of crime. I begin by analyzing a canonical crime novel, namely Raymond Chandler's The Big Sleep (1939), focusing on the novel's male-identification and representations of homophobia, in order to illustrate persistent stereotypes in the genre. Moving on to contemporary crime fiction, I investigate Nekesa Afia's Dead Dead Girls (2021), Michael Nava, Lies With Man (2021), and Stella Duffy, Fresh Flesh (1999). Through the contrast highlighted between canonical texts and their representation of sexuality and contemporary LGBTQ+ themed and authored crime fiction, the influence of fourth-wave feminism and the #MeToo movement can clearly be seen both thematically and stylistically. I do not define LGBTQ+ as a genre, but rather as a range of thematic concerns and preoccupations which are personally and politically informed and which impact on crime fiction representation. To clarify that in terms of my position in relation to this material, I am writing as a white cis woman and an LGBTQ+ ally.
The problem of harmonising the claims of individuals with the claims of the groups of all sizes to which they belong has occupied the human mind throughout history. All but the smallest collective units have usually been found to require a recognised arrangement to coordinate or regulate action and restrain individuals or subgroups from pursuing their own interests in opposition to others or the group as a whole. These arrangements, when they are on a scale necessitating certain kinds of formalisation, constitute political systems. To a great extent, they have been the products of historical forces rather than rational deliberation. But as humanity has evolved, the need has increasingly been felt to find intelligible principles by which they can be explained, justified, improved where possible or replaced if necessary.
Political philosophy is the search for such organising principles. Taking a variety of forms in different times and places, it has alternately sanctioned, questioned and repudiated the existing order. Sometimes it has had little effect on practical politics. At other times, it has stimulated reform or triggered revolutions. Today, political philosophy confronts global issues that demand global thinking. But the conceptual tools it brings to these problems have so far tended to be those that have taken shape mainly in one part of the earth – the ‘Western’ part – whose relevance to the rest and adequacy for dealing with the complexities of a multicultural world may legitimately be questioned. An expanded dialogue would seem to be called for so that we can bring as rich a diversity of viewpoints as possible to our encounter with the unprecedented challenges we now face.
The need for some kind of global political philosophy has not gone unrecognised. But often this means little more than applying concepts and methods of Western political theory to the new problems arising from globalisation. Whatever the value of this approach, it leaves the potentially limiting cultural assumptions of political theory itself unexamined. Global political philosophy would surely benefit from a broadening of its foundations through creative interaction with non-Western thought, past and present.
Kete encapsulates embodied knowledge, undergoing continuous evolution to meet the dynamic needs of its practitioners in an organic and responsive manner.
To expand on this, the Indigenous Knowledge System (IKS) incorporated within the broader framework of Afrocentric theory as advocated by Asante-Kete, is here regarded as an alternative theoretical lens for addressing African artistic developments. An IKS encompasses the entirety of historical and contemporary knowledge, including actions and reactions, grounded in a people's interaction with their environment. Kofi Anthonio shares that “human beings, are defined by the way we socialise, including communal gathering which is representative of the society or its coming together to live as an identifiable entity […] and that community is not complete without music and dance.” I contend that any definitions pertaining to the cultural evolution of African people should be based on their own voices, experiences, and interactions with their history. Meaning and contexts are derived from these activities, supporting social functions and activities that are relevant to a people. This chapter serves as a conceptual exposition of Kete as an IKS within the Afrocentric paradigm.
As espoused first by Molefi Kete Asante (Asante 1988) and later by scholars like Frances Owusu-Ansah and Bubela Mji in their push for recognition of African indigenous knowledge forms, I have recognized, through existing literature, the necessity for adopting an Afrocentric approach in African dance scholarship. Ghanaian dance research has not explicitly utilized Afrocentricity until now. This necessity is echoed by Owusu-Ansah and Miji (2013), who share that in exploring alternative approaches to studying their reality, African research must endeavor to diverge from the established Western research methodologies in which many have been trained. This stance does not aim to dismiss or belittle recognized Western investigative methods but encourages African researchers to consider alternative inquiry methods for investigating and preserving indigenous knowledge (Owusu-Ansah and Mji 2013). An Afrocentric method as an alternative approach to existing Western conceptions of dance-music and their functions in African societies is not only necessary but more so needs constant promotion. Historically and presently, Western perspectives on the African body and dance have been sources of fascination and, at times, misunderstanding.
Chapter 2 investigates crime fiction's engagement with #MeToo, taking a broader approach that focuses on the genre's representations of women's oppression and how patriarchy uses women's sexualities and bodies against them to victimize them. I place this analysis within the context of fourth-wave feminism and the #MeToo movement. Phil Hubbard argues that #MeToo has provided fresh momentum for the feminist movement, but also stresses that #MeToo is part of an ongoing feminist struggle “against misogyny and patriarchal violence” for women and “socially marginalised groups.” In this chapter, I analyze representations of major #MeToo themes, such as sexual violence against women, gender discrimination, sexual harassment against women in the workplace, and reproductive justice. These topics reflect ongoing feminist preoccupations since the second wave of feminism; however, the contemporary crime texts examined here demonstrate that the feminist struggle against sexual violence, gender discrimination, and reproductive rights must be fought with renewed vigor in the face of conservative political and cultural forces which seek to row back on equality for women and other socially marginalized groups and that crime fiction plays an active part in that. This chapter shows how crime texts that problematize male violence and misogyny contribute importantly to “call-out culture” by explicitly linking these topics to crime and the search for justice. Ann J. Cahill comments on the politics of representation and objectification, stating that:
Much of feminist theory has been committed to the claim that the sexual objectification of women is harmful, degrading, and oppressive. To be viewed as a sex object is to be regarded as less than a full human person, to be debased and reduced to mere flesh. The male gaze—which is male primarily in its effect, not necessarily in its origin, in that women can also adopt it—defines and constrains women, assesses their beauty, and in doing so dehumanizes them.
This chapter focuses on crime texts which expose misogynistic cultural narratives and crimes originating in white male supremacy which are key to fourth-wave feminism and the #MeToo movement. These crime texts demonstrate how crime fiction can interrogate these narratives and crimes, creating greater awareness among readers and audiences of patriarchy's insidious and explicit harm instead of perpetuating it. Traditionally, crime fiction has tended to focus less on the victims of crime and their traumas and more on the detectives and their crime-solving skills.
Crime fiction is changing in the age of #MeToo. Traditionally, crime fiction has focused on a detective—typically a white cisgender male—solving crime by discovering the truth and restoring the status quo. This generic formula has frequently led to the crime genre being accused of conservatism and perpetuating white patriarchy. However, my book is concerned with how crime fiction in the age of #MeToo radically interrogates and shifts this conventional approach. I examine the profound thematic and stylistic changes in crime fiction inspired by the powerful movements of fourth-wave feminism and #MeToo and their resistance to patriarchal violence and white male supremacy. My investigation triangulates contemporary crime fiction, fourth-wave feminism, and #MeToo, to investigate the genre's crucial role in advocating for change.
This book is situated in the cultural and intellectual space created by the #MeToo movement and fourth-wave feminism. #MeToo has brought crime fiction to a critical point of reflection on the genre and the need for innovation and change. Similarly, fourth-wave feminism has highlighted the importance of communication and using popular culture as a means of generating solidarity and creating feminist communities. It is important to note that fourth-wave feminism and #MeToo are more than merely context for this book; they inform and shape my methodology based on theories, concepts, and terminology from these two movements. My study thus identifies and employs five major fourth-wave feminist themes and their representation in crime fiction, namely #MeToo, rape culture, toxic masculinity, LGBTQ+ perspectives, and transgender. Each of this book's chapters employs specific critical vocabulary and concepts from fourth-wave feminist debates and #MeToo discourses to analyze these specific topics in crime fiction. While some crime fiction continues to reproduce white heteropatriarchy despite fourth-wave feminism and #MeToo, investigating those books would be the subject of another study. The purpose of my present book is to analyze contemporary crime fiction which engages progressively, constructively, and creatively with fourth-wave feminism and the #MeToo movement. Although the subjects of gender and feminism have been researched extensively in relation to crime fiction, a specific focus on #MeToo and fourth-wave feminist concepts has been lacking thus far. Through actively re-reading and evaluating examples of earlier twentieth-century canonical crime fiction compared with contemporary crime literature, my book offers an in-depth and extensive examination of crime fiction and its engagement with fourth-wave feminism and the #MeToo movement.
It appears that restlessness is the point of departure and the basis of creativity for a human subject, hence, both material and metaphysical space can be viewed as different expressions of this creative restlessness. This space might be a medium in which dreams and the potential to realise those dreams could perhaps be placed for artistic blossoming:
While gardens can serve worldly ends and contemplation, there is also a long tradition linking gardens to retreat and contemplation and a long tradition linking gardens to retreat, reflection, and repose. Gardens serve such non-worldly purposes in the Bible, in the Chinese tradition of scholar-recluse, and in Virgil's praise of the life of retirement in the Georgics. In the Judeo-Christian tradition, Judeo-Christian tradition gardens recall paradise and the abundance and glory of the Garden of Eden. (Ross 1998: 6)
From this dimension, one can reflect on how gardens have been conceptualized as a significant space for myriad activities both worldly and non-worldly. Ross further explains,
The relevance of all this for the aesthetics of the garden is this: we want to know when and whether gardens are art. Perhaps more than any other art, gardens belong in and partake of the everyday world. Looking at paintings is not qualitatively like looking at literal landscapes, nor is watching a play or reading a novel much like thinking about or observing the misadventures and crises of our friends. Yet, our responses to gardens and to natural landscapes are similar in many respects. (Ibid: 18)
It is also important to note how this space gives voice to imagination and dreams and explores ambivalent contexts, as evident in Vivekananda's life. In his initial years, Vivekananda felt quite restless as he was puzzled about concerns both scientific and philosophical. As a young man, in favour of rational thinking, he could not support the idea that the abstract and symbolical description of God should take the first place in the creative space and that the question of self could drive an individual hard to achieve his/her goal in order to surrender himself/herself to an unknown being.
In the beginning, Odomankoma created “Order, the Drum/Music, and the Executioner! According to Asante cosmology played on the Atumpan drum, humans are appointed to exist in an orderly world and society, guided by effective communication throughout their lives, and to eventually transition into ancestorshood through death. The pervasive influence of these three elements—Order, the Drum/Music, and the Executioner—on Asante life is undeniable, shaping their interactions with people and the environment, as well as their understanding of spirituality.
The subtitle “Odomankoma na ↄnwini kete!” in Twi language translates to “God assembled Kete dance-music.” I selected this chapter title because, as evident in this volume, Kete transcends the physical realm and serves as a bridge between Asante/Akan realities. It is carefully ordered to respond to sociocultural context with its unique movement, visual, and communicative systems. I am cautious not to overly spiritualize this aspect of Kete in my effort to position cultural reverence for this dance-music form. Most importantly, I aim to frame it as an epistemology deserving of more scientific explorations.
I am a Kete dancer, musician, teacher, and lifelong student. My journey and growth are intricately tied, especially to this dance form. Kete offered me my first encounter with self-reflection at a young age, providing a lens through which I could assess my life situations and redefine my focus. It played a crucial role in helping me navigate financial challenges during my primary and senior high school days, contributing to our household income. Even when I received support from my sister to continue my university education, dancing Kete allowed me to save money and supplement the financial assistance. As I pursued my first master's degree at the University of Ghana, Kete provided direction and motivation for my research and thesis. It served as the foundation for understanding movement structure, context, and the function of other cultures during my Choreomundus master's program in Europe. When I later gained admission to pursue a PhD in Dance Studies at Temple University, Kete continued to speak to me and drove me toward completion. Today, I share years of experience, practice, and research as a Kete student with the world.
We don't understand that life is a paradise [at present], for we have only to wish to understand this and it will immediately appear before us in all its beauty—Father Zossima in The Brothers Karamazov
Good life is world seen sub specie aeternitatis—Wittgenstein
[…] a man who lives rightly won't experience the problem as sorrow, so for him it will not be a problem, but a joy […] abright halo round his life, not a dubious background.
—Wittgenstein
Whitehead has referred to ‘basic insights or initial intuitions or feelings of mankind calling for explanations or justifications. Man's desire for immortality is one of these initial intuitions, or persistent dreams, or impulses’. If we begin with this fundamental impulse of the human spirit, the question is not disputing its ‘truth’ on this or that so-called scientific ground or explaining it away but how to express it. Believers and non-believers needn't dispute the matter by taking all or none position but may better have a dialogue regarding how far we have succeeded in defining or understanding it correctly.
Man Seeks Heaven
It needs just a moment's reflection to see that the issue of Heaven is neither an obsession of old schoolmen nor a subject for idle dreamers or escapists but concerns every man by virtue of being human. On it hinges the fate of people, believers and non-believers alike, as it involves the question of the meaning of life. If violence is a reaction to failure to find love/being loved and agitation of spirit that fails to find repose in the absence of the object it craves for by its very nature, the recent history of violence has much to do with the history of the decline of understanding of Heaven in modern consciousness.
One can transpose to Islam and arguably to all transcendence-centric traditions that posit our real home in the yonderland of Spirit, Kreeft's description of medieval Christendom: ‘it was the world beyond the world that made all the difference in the world to this world. The Heaven beyond the sun made the earth “under the sun” something more than “vanity of vanities.”’
Fourth-wave feminism and the #MeToo movement both interrogate toxic masculinity and its manifestations, and these themes are also prominent in crime fiction. Toxic masculinity is defined by Terry A. Kupers as “the constellation of socially regressive [masculine] traits that serve to foster domination, the devaluation of women, homophobia, and wanton violence.” Furthermore, Katherine M. Ingram et al. define toxic masculinity as “a form of traditional masculinity that becomes harmful to others.” Toxic masculinity is, then, an extreme manifestation of hegemonic masculinity which is constructed as dominant, aggressive, violent, non-empathetic, and misogynistic. My investigation of this theme in crime fiction extends these debates to examine representations of toxic masculinity and male violence in wider contexts, including against other men, a facet of toxic masculinity which is less frequently explored. While acknowledging the historical origins of the term “toxic masculinity” in the 1980s and the reservations some critics have articulated regarding the term as an analytical category, my book asserts the validity and importance of examining toxic masculinity as a concept and literary theme. In the crime texts studied in this chapter, toxic masculinity emerges as both the origin and effect of patriarchal genderbased violence and misogynoir. The crime texts analyzed here demonstrate that, just as rape culture upholds patriarchal society, so toxic masculinity serves as the other pillar upholding the symbolic and physical structure of white male supremacy. Caitlin Wahrer explains how toxic masculinity is typically represented in crime and suspense fiction, stating that: “[m]uch of the genre deals with stories of women who are victimized by men whose conduct has been encouraged by toxic masculinity.” My analysis further explores the intersections of toxic masculinity with race, class, and sexuality, demonstrating the complexity of the theme and its representation in crime fiction.
This chapter examines representations of toxic masculinity in crime fiction and how these representations have changed over time, analyzing the complex aspects of toxic masculinity that are belied by its stereotypical portrayal. Starting my investigation with a stereotypical portrayal of toxic masculinity in Agatha Christie's 1964 novel, A Caribbean Mystery, I consider this novel's representation of toxic masculinity as part of its serial killer plot, arguing that the novel illustrates an intrinsic function of toxic masculinity within the crime genre: namely driving psychological and physical violence against women and murder.
As a conceptual metaphor, a garden of god is a natural medium of relationship between the human, the Divine and nature, and consequently, a space of collective coexistence, a political economy. Humanity has conceived of this medium in a variety of ways. Given the chapter of human history in which we find ourselves, that which defines itself as the Common Era (CE) to normalise the global history of colonialism, it is proper to start our consideration of this relational space with the image of the Abrahamic Kingdom of God. This kingdom is in fact a garden, but a patriarchal garden, owned by ‘the One’ who controls its space and lets it out to ‘its others’, creatures who must obey its laws of control. Such a dualistic garden is structured by the judgement of good and evil, in which the creatures can express evil and from which human creatures, by the exercise of a will to evil, that is, a will that defies the laws of control of the garden, can be and are exiled (Genesis 2:4–3:24).
The exile from the garden is a rupture of the unity between nature, the human and the Divine. As a result the human knows the ontology of separation. This exile pursues the Western world, leaving it restless and in need of a home in every homecoming, anxious for a messianic time of redemption (Genesis 49:10; Isaiah 11:1–9; Mark 8:29, 14:61–62). At the same time, the consequences of the exile accumulate eschatologically; it is a fleeing away from the garden while replicating increasingly distorted simulacra of the garden. Modernity may be seen as an intensified eschatological chapter in this long exile, an exacerbation of the discourse of guilt-stained ownership and mastery leading to colonialism, industrialism and the techno-consumerist globalisation of the Anthropocene.
Its sardonic garden is the concrete jungle, plastered over the dead remains of a poisoned earth, extending to the desolate sterilities of death. This extreme point of human exile replicates the patriarchy of the original garden in a substitute human form – the patriarchy of capital established in the artificial habitat of the wasteland and the concrete jungle. Yet, the greater the distance from the Kingdom of God, the greater the angst for the return.
In conclusion, this research explored the transmission of the Kete dance from the palace to the University of Ghana, examining it through the lenses of the Traditional and Academic dance categories. The study adopted an Afrocentric and phenomenological approach, emphasizing the agency of the Kete dancing body in shaping cultural ideals and philosophies within the Asante community. The research began by discussing Awuah's four categories of dance performance in Ghana, focusing on the Traditional and Academic categories for analysis. It highlighted the transition of Kete from the palace to the university, acknowledging the influence of the Ghana Dance Ensemble as a bridge between the Traditional and Academic categories. The research emphasized the need for a phenomenological standpoint to understand the role of these dance categories in the transmission of Kete. It demonstrated the efficacy of the black body in affirming cultural ideals and contributing to the propagation of Akan/Asante culture. The study highlighted the dynamic and evolving nature of indigenous dances, challenging static perceptions and advocating for a deeper exploration of the meanings generated through performance.
Through a phenomenological analysis, the research delved into the experiences of Kete performers, situating the holistic nature of performance mediums like music and dance within the intellectual framework of Asante culture. The Traditional and Academic categories were shown to influence the meanings generated in different contexts, emphasizing the importance of context-specific interpretations.
The research justified the potency of indigenous thought patterns manifested through performance gestures and underlined the significance of the African Genius concept in analyzing movement systems. It argued for the preservation of traditional structures in performance art to avoid distorting identity markers. The study also explored the Pan-Africanist paradigm, showcasing how Kete was employed in the development of a nationalist approach to governing independent Ghana. It advocated for an Afrocentric mode of inquiry, aligning with the researcher's focus and enabling a deeper exploration of indigenous perspectives.
Fourth-wave feminism and #MeToo have coincided with a rise in transgender representation in crime fiction. This development is mirrored by what Sally Campbell Galman calls “a surge of popular interest in the lives and experiences of transgender and gender diverse people.” Transgender representation in traditional crime fiction has often been stereotyped or negative; however, Heather Duerre Humann's book Gender-Bending Crime Fiction (2017) and Casey A. Cohran's 2024 chapter “Mystery and Detective Fiction as Trans Literature” forge a new direction in crime fiction criticism on transgender representation in the genre. My study extends this research, demonstrating how the crime genre is developing a vocabulary, reassessing its plots and characters, and expanding its narrative range in response to fourth-wave feminism, the #MeToo movement, and the need for trans representation. I also explore the historical discrimination trans people have faced and how crime fiction set in the past has depicted these issues, as well as investigate the barriers and stigma trans people still face as portrayed in crime fiction. Recent years’ debates have emphasized the importance of LGBTQ+ and trans inclusion in the #MeToo movement and fourth-wave feminism. This development is all the more pertinent in the context of negative portrayals of transgender in the media and by politicians, and gender-critical insistence on biologically defined identity. The purpose of this chapter, then, is to show how contemporary crime fiction offers progressive and complex representations of trans people, showing trans people and their allies to be on the side of justice. My book presents transgender in crime fiction as a separate chapter to avoid transgender crime fiction being subsumed under the larger category of LGBTQ+ literature, as Sabine Sharp also argues. She states that transgender writing has often been “overshadowed by gay and lesbian literature, a category already well established and well recognized in the classificatory systems of bookstores and degree programs.” This chapter investigates the politics of representing trans identity, starting with a canonical crime novel, which displays ambivalence in its portrayal of a trans woman which was indicative of a general cultural trend, namely Val McDermid's The Mermaids Singing (1995). To show how crime fiction in the age of #MeToo challenges stereotypes of transgender through the genre and instead produces empowering representations of trans identity, I investigate Alex Reeve's The House on Half Moon Street (2018), V. T. Davy's Black Art (2012), and Dharma Kelleher's TERF Wars (2021).
This book has examined the triangulation of contemporary crime fiction, the #MeToo movement, and fourth-wave feminism. The aim with the research presented here has been to demonstrate how the #MeToo movement and fourth-wave feminism are impacting on crime fiction, its idiom, and the politics of its representation of gender, sexuality, race, class, and intersectionality. This book thus devised and employed a methodology informed by key terms and concepts from fourth-wave feminism and the #MeToo movement, to show that all three parts of the triangulation are impacting on and changing one another. The individual chapters, with their distinctive focus and detailed textual analysis, have provided examinations of crime fiction's representation of key topics: #MeToo, rape culture, toxic masculinity, LGBTQ+, and transgender. However, while the individual chapters in this book explore specific themes or subjects, they have also highlighted the intrinsic interconnectedness of these themes and their representation in the crime genre. This interconnectedness, then, is reflected in the idea and practice of intersectionality which this book argues is central to crime fiction in the age of #MeToo.
Some critics have argued that we are now in a “post-#MeToo” era, suggesting that #MeToo was a moment in the past which societies have now moved beyond. However, current realities show that both fourth-wave feminism and the #MeToo movement are continuing to fight vital battles both against backlashes in reproductive rights and gendered and racialized violence as well as in the area of trans rights and homophobia. The conservative political climate in the UK, America, and Europe reminds us that feminist advances are under threat and that the #MeToo movement's work is as vital as ever. The overturning of Harvey Weinstein's conviction on a procedural issue is further evidence of the difficulty for women and other socially marginalized groups of obtaining justice through the legal system and from the police. As the #MeToo movement shows no sign of abating, and persistent subjects return to make renewed demands on intersectional feminist critics’ time—such as rape culture, reproductive rights, and the overturning of Roe v. Wade—it is clear that crime fiction has a crucial role to play in exposing inequalities and participating in public debates to call out injustice and promote change.