Small Stories and Larger Scandals

As the door opens, I see his familiar face, looking down the steps with a smile. It is 11:47 and the bus is empty. Playing the incognito, I mumble through my ticket details, “Just to the station, thanks?”

“You’re paying full fare these days? What was it you were studying again, music?” For our first real conversation, he has a lot of information on me. He must have seen me with my bass. So much for incognito.

“Yeah, I was studying writing…”

“And now what are you doing?”

“Well…now I’m a writer, so I have to pay full fare,” I smile and he laughs.

“You should spend more time on the buses.” There’s a glint in his eye like he can’t wait to impart his unique brand of knowledge, “I hear a lot of stories.”

Ned knows the students from the full fares, the pensioners from concessions. There’s something about the way he says hello that convinces you that he knows who you are beyond how much you pay to travel.  Throughout the trip, he tells me about my neighbourhood, driving slowly with his head craned as far around as he can to look at me while he drives. Icould tell you what Ned told me I should write about; the neighbourhood man who was a rear gunner in the war and now has three ex-wives with whom “he still gets along just fine.” But he makes the mistake which writers take as a blessing, he gives away little bits of information about himself without realising it.

On family: “My daughter studies psychology and she tells me I know more about people than her because of my time on the bus.”
His hobbies: “So… I told him how I’ve got good hands for my age because I play guitar and violin.”

“You know what? Around here there are a lot of people.” he stops and lowers his voice, trying to stay out of the earshot of the other passengers. “who try to be invisible.”

It is the small stories which bring the invisible people to life. It is the size of the man which makes a dirty little story a scandal.

Small Stories and Larger Scandals

As citizens of a growing social sphere, we are bound to our identity by the stories we tell, the company we keep and the cultural actions we repeat. If you have seen any media in the last week, you know the story of Australian Matthew Johns, NRL star (as was addressed by Trespass Magazine last week). Our knowledge of his story is the innate ‘problem’ with celebrity status; small stories grow into bigger stories and media scandals with very little fuel. As far as human identity goes, sexuality plays a major role in defining who and what we are (and sometimes, what we are not.)

Michel Foucault said, ‘If identity becomes the problem of sexual existence, and if people think they have to ‘uncover’ their ‘own identity’ and that their own identity has to become …the code of their existence; if the perennial question they ask is ‘Does this thing conform to my identity?’ then, I think, they will turn back to a kind of ethics very close to the old heterosexual virility.” (Foucault 1984; 385)

Interesting, in respect to the NRL saga, is Foucault’s use of the term ‘virility,’ a word which in definition refers to “manly character, vigor, or spirit; masculinity” (Random House Dictionary.) In truth, what has been uncovered in the NRL is a naturalised culture of heterosexual virility, enacted in multiplicity. A virility which pervades (and perverts) the team culture of Rugby League. A virility which an unnamed representative player stated would not cease, nor be considered shameful.

“I don’t know how a chief executive can come out and say we can’t have group sex if it’s consensual. It’s like discrimination because that is a person’s private life. It’s like saying you can’t be homosexual, or you can’t have such-and-such sexual preferences. How can he tell us what we can do in our private lives? What if there’s more women than guys, is that wrong, too? We already have so many rules: we can’t drink on these days, we can’t go to these places, now we can’t have group sex. About the only thing we can do these days is go to club functions, and just hang around other players. That’s just isolating us more from the rest of the world, and it could lead to even more violent acts.” (Defiant rep star says group sex romps will keep happening, Sydney Morning Herald)

It seems that people in the public eye can’t be seen doing things that are not suitable for the public eye. Who would’ve thought that the companies who pay millions of dollars in sponsorship wouldn’t want to be associated with drunkenness and polygamous debauchery?

The above quote underlines the point of this week’s topic; the impact of these forms of identity. He is correct in saying that the culture will not be stamped out. Lest I begin to rant and rave, I won’t even begin to speculate on what the idea of orgiastic abstinence leading to ‘more violent acts’ says about the players in question. However, it is not the private sexual rights that the above player believes they have which will propagate the culture, it is the intrinsic nature of sexuality within heterosexual virility and a sport which has postulated itself as the epicenter of Australian masculinity. Italian theorist Antonio Gramsci believes that hegemony (the power state where one group is dominant over another) is created not only by the dominant class, but also by the minority. He argues that a culture’s identity (and therefore the individuals identity) is self-propagated by their repetition of cultural actions. Using the example of working class students (lads) he reports that they create for themselves “a posture of joking macho defiance which it so happens, is exactly the indifferent posture they subsequently take into the world of manual labour.” (Jones 2006; 57) The same can be said of the NRL culture; the sub-cultural practices contribute to the perpetuation of heterosexual virility. Their identity is intrinsic to proactive masculinity and vice versa.

This is not to say that the NRL cannot clean up its act but the above unnamed player gives a good example of why it will be a hard shift. My predictions is that the first movement will be to market the NRL as a clean sport, free of the scandals of the past, but will that be enough for the Australian public? Are we to lose our own identities as spectators? It is this relationship which worries me. Australians as a majority invest a lot of their time, and personality in following sport. If the ones we hail as heroes fall short, where do our physical aspirations lie. Only time will tell.

What do you think? Leave a comment below!

References:

Michel Foucault. (1996) [1984]. Sex, Power and the Politics of Identity. In Foucault Live. collected Interviews, 1961-1984. Sylvère Lotringer (Ed.). New York: Semiotext(e)

Steve Jones, ‘Hegemony in Practice 1: Identity’ from Antonio Gramsci, London and New York Routledge 2006

*Bus Image by Brian Yap

*Matthew Johns image by Brendan Esposito

About Samuel Webster

Samuel Webster is a writer who spends his days teaching undergraduates about cultural studies, and his nights pondering the impact of a cascading tune whistled on the darkening urban landscape. He is currently working on his first novel. Follow him on twitter: www.twitter.com/wiredjazz