Our main character is Jenna, a woman who has had to deal with a fair amount of loss in her life, the most recent one being that of her boyfriend Victor, who went to work on oil rigs and sent her a break up letter. Earlier was the death of her bio parents in a tragedy involving a car. Jenna’s last happy moment with Victor was recreating a photoshoot at a local junkyard involving a junked out Camaro and Caroline Williams of “Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2” fame, and when Jenna finds the Camaro later, the same night Victor comes home and her rejection is flaunted for everyone, things take a turn for the supernatural. It involves bloodletting, a rebuilt car, and a scorned lover’s revenge. But it’s also a story of a woman who has suffered some pretty terrible loss in her life, and how a bloodthirsty car not only can help her seek revenge but also closure. Fascinating, Clover has shown how the allegedly naïve makers of crude films have done something more schooled directors have difficulty doing - creating females with whom male veiwers are quite prepared to identify with on the most profound levels In her reading of both particular horror films and of film and gender theory, Clover does what every cultural critic hopes to: she calls into question our habits of seeing." —-Ramona Naddaff, Artforum

Men, Women, and Chain Saws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film Men, Women, and Chain Saws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film

The thing for me is, I’m just not into cars at all. That’s probably why there was a bit of a disconnect with me in that aspect but there were some good horror elements and relatability to this as I kept reading. No doubt, if I loved cars, this would have been given a higher rating in my book. In her reading of both particular horror films and of film and gender theory, Clover does what every cultural critic hopes to: she calls into question our habits of seeing."—Ramona Naddaff, Artforum Carol Clover's compelling [book] challenges simplistic assumptions about the relationship between gender and culture. . . . She suggests that the "low tradition' in horror movies possesses positive subversive potential, a space to explore gender ambiguity and transgress traditional boundaries of masculinity and femininity."—Andrea Walsh, The Boston Globe Carol Clover's compelling [book] challenges simplistic assumptions about the relationship between gender and culture. . . . She suggests that the "low tradition' in horror movies possesses positive subversive potential, a space to explore gender ambiguity and transgress traditional boundaries of masculinity and femininity. ---Andrea Walsh, The Boston Globethe new prominence of women is the structural effect of a greater investment in the victim function… modern horror seems especially interested in the trials of everyperson, and everyperson is on his or her own in facing the menace, without help from the authorities…it is not only in their capacity as victims that these women appear in these films. They are, in fact, protagonists in the full sense: they combine the functions of suffering victim and avenging hero. (17) For what it's worth, I enjoyed this book for the most part. It certainly gave me a lot to think about and analyze, and while it did take me quite some time to read, I attribute that more to my own desire to take my time digesting the topics in this book. There was a lot to take in and think about, especially when accounting for the fact that this book is dated and it prompts a lot of questions about the understanding of gender, coming from a decades-older viewpoint. SGJ is always fun to read, and his short stories are awesome little slices of gritty East Texas life, with lots of dusty flat spaces and flea bitten dogs under dilapidated trailers. "Men, Women, and Chainsaws" follows Jenna, who has been abandoned by both her adopted parents and her man-ho fiancé. Angry displays of force may belong to the male, but crying, cowering, screaming, fainting, trembling, begging for mercy belong to the female. Abject terror, in short, is gendered feminine, and the more concerned a given film is with that condition- and it is the essence of modern horror- the more likely the femaleness of the victim. It is no accident that male victims in slasher films are killed swiftly or offscreen, and that prolonged struggles, in which the victim has time to contemplate her imminent destruction, inevitably figure females. Only when one encounters the rare expression of abject terror on the part of a male… does one apprehend the full extent of the cinematic double standard in such matters. (51) Like her mom had always told her, you’ve got to look for the silver lining, girl. If you squint, then the world can look a whole lot better than it does with your eyes all the way open.

Men, Women, and Chain Saws by Carol J. Clover - Ebook | Scribd Men, Women, and Chain Saws by Carol J. Clover - Ebook | Scribd

Her criticism culminates in a claim that the message of Ms. 45 is that if women would just arm themselves, they would no longer be victimized by men. Essentially letting the potential rapists in the audience off the hook by moving the blame from the rapist to the victim for not “manning up” and protecting herself.Clover makes a convincing case for studying the pulp-pop excesses of ‘exploitation' horror as a reflection of our psychic times."—Misha Berson, San Francisco Chronicle Published by Princeton University Press 2015 Men, Women, and Chain Saws Gender in the Modern Horror Film - Updated Edition In other words, gender is a result not of the body but of behavior. As explained in the next chapter, final girls survive because of their maleness. By the end of the film they are able to man themselves by taking on a phallic object and penetrating the killer with it, thereby unmanning him. It is through pain and trials that the final girl can become manned, she must pass from victim to hero. Regardless of Sex: Men, Women, and Power in Early Northern Europe." Speculum: Journal of the Medieval Academy of Amnerica, 68 (1993). Rpt. in Studying Medieval Women: Sex, Gender, Feminism. Medieval Academy of America, 1993. Rpt. in Representations, 44 (1993).