WHY MILEY CYRUS' FEMINISM IS NOT ABOUT MILEY CYRUS By

Home , Bangerz Tour, Miley Cyrus

“HOT MODEL BITCHES”:

WHY MILEY CYRUS’ FEMINISM IS NOT ABOUT MILEY CYRUS

Hailey B. Winder

Thesis submitted in partial fulfillment of the

requirements for the Degree of

Bachelor of Arts with

Honours in Politics

Acadia University

April, 2015

This thesis by Hailey B. Winder

is accepted in its present form by the

Department of Politics

as satisfying the thesis requirements for the degree of

Bachelor of Arts with Honours

Approved by the Thesis Supervisor

______

Dr. Geoffrey Whitehall Date

Approved by the Head of the Department

______

Dr. Andrew Biro Date

Approved by the Honours Committee

______

Dr. Anthony Thomas Date

I, Hailey B. Winder, grant permission to the University Librarian at Acadia University to reproduce, loan or distribute copies of my thesis in microform, paper or electronic formats on a

non-profit basis. I, however, retain the copyright in my thesis.

______

Signature of Author

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Date

iii

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank Dr. Geoffrey Whitehall for his guidance and encouragement during this process and throughout my undergraduate degree. Each of the professors in the Politics department throughout the years have challenged and motivated me, and I am incredibly grateful for the time that I have spent with them all. I would especially like to thank Dr. Rachel Brickner for her valuable insights. While there are many people who have contributed greatly to my work,

I would like to dedicate this thesis to my family and friends who supported me through this process.

Table of Contents ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ...... IV

ABSTRACT ...... VI

INTRODUCTION ...... 1

CHAPTER 1: CONTEXTUALIZING FEMINISM ...... 8

CHAPTER 2: CYRUS AND HER “HOT MODEL BITCHES” ...... 20

CHAPTER 3: RESONANCE ...... 34

CHAPTER 4: CYRUS IS ART ...... 40

CONCLUSION ...... 50

WORKS CITED ...... 53

Abstract

The aim of this project is to mobilize the notoriety of contemporary pop-singer and self- proclaimed feminist Miley Cyrus in order to engage with a philosophical rearticulation of feminist theory. I trace the development of feminist thought in the United States to situate feminism as a self-critical ontology. In order to contextualize contemporary feminist critiques of her, I conduct a media analysis of the performance art of Cyrus. While these critiques highlight many problematic tendencies inherent in her work, I argue that Cyrus is a political figure that embodies patriarchal contemporary social and political anxieties. Ultimately, I argue that a philosophical framework that situates Cyrus as a work of art rather than a producer of art, is the best way to engage Cyrus’ feminism.

Introduction

The concept of the rebelling female celebrity is not new in popular culture. Celebrity breakdowns, rebellions, and outbursts are the norm in Hollywood. Through the past century, stars such as Judy Garland and Bridget Anderson fell victim to the fast-paced lifestyles of Hollywood (Frascella 2005, 293). This is especially the case with stars like

Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan, Vanessa Hudgens, and Amanda Bynes, each trying to break free from their innocent, virginal personas. When we hear another ex-Disney starlet has shaven her head, been arrested for drug possession, or released a raunchy and controversial new album, we tend to dismiss it as the natural tipping point between the pristine, asexual Disney star and the sultry, sexual adult woman. This transition is often understood as the expression of sexual maturity on the part of the star, yet it is often spoken of as a shameful fall from their previous good-girl, Disney star persona. Gender theorist Tina Vares calls the phenomenon “fallen bad girl [status],” in which these stars are “condemned as behaving in morally reprehensible ways” (Vares 2011, 142). There is an important political and social tension within the contemporary paradigm that sees the construction of the deviant female celebrity as a bad influence because her “sexuality [is] considered to have crossed a normative boundary” (Vares 2011, 142). The young rebelling female celebrity is incorporated into a “highly accessible moral discourse,”

(Vares 2011, 142) that either positions her as a bad influence and slut or as an individual suffering from a psychotic or mental disorder.

In some of aforementioned cases, the female celebrity may very well have succumbed to some underlying mental illness, or fallen victim to the fast-paced party life of the celebrity. Some celebrities do simply let loose, outlandishly exhibiting their

sexuality, openly embracing the media and the ensuing publicity storm (Vares 2011, 142).

However, a gendered element is present in these transformations. Oona E. Goodin-Smith highlights this gender imbalance as she points out the fact that “an overwhelming amount of these train wreck stars, or the ones who seem to propel themselves off the deep end […] appear to be female,” (Goodin-Smith 2014, 26) while their male counterparts such as

Ryan Gosling and Zac Efron have “transitioned successfully into mature individual careers” (Goodin-Smith 2014, 26). Unfortunately for female celebrities, if they want to stay in the limelight, their transition is often defined by one of two paths: entering psychosis or becoming sluts. I argue that the way in which mainstream feminism and popular culture situate the female celebrity is insufficient because it does not allow for the creative rearticulation of their feminist subjectivity. I will mobilize Miley Cyrus, contemporary pop-singer and controversy queen, in order to engage with this rearticulation.

Though this is a single case study, there are many questions about Cyrus’ “cray cray, just Miley being Miley exploits,” (Goodin-Smith 2014, 31) that must be addressed in order to begin interrogating the larger phenomenon at hand. The gendered aspect of this phenomenon is important as it becomes less about the publicized incidents of rebellion which these female stars engage in, and more about the manner in which these incidents are presented and spoken about in the mainstream media. Many female stars have publicly announced their rejection of the good girl in favor of the sexy, controversial woman, trading one gendered manifestation of the female for another (Gevinson 2014).

However, what is important through this discussion of Cyrus is the manner in which her

particular post-Disney construction is spoken about and criticized in mainstream popular culture.

Though the reliance on the corporeal fabrication of gender identity is problematic,

Cyrus has instigated heated conversations concerning the physical manifestations of performative gender for contemporary feminist discussion (O’Connor 2013; Makarechi

2013; Kagel 2013). Cyrus has traded in her heteronormative feminine Hannah Montana identity for a peach colored bikini suit and an androgynous haircut which complements her boyish frame (Gevinson 2014). Tavi Gevinson sat down with the starlet after the release of her 2013 album Bangerz and addressed this new sexuality:

[Miley Cyrus] didn’t follow in the footsteps of young female stars who play sexy for the benefit of the audience but have no sex life of their own (at least not that they’d admit to); instead, her performance of sex is goofy and inaccessible, intended only for her own pleasure and fun. (Gevinson 2014)

In order to engage with the gender construction and feminism of Cyrus, I will trace the development of feminist thought in the United States over the past two centuries.

Through this historical analysis, I will address the emphasis of physical manifestations of the female gender and race. Through this contextualization of feminism, it will become clear that there has been a particular fixation on the corporeality of the female subject in opposition to their male counterparts. This subordinate feminine identity is one that posits the female as a sexual object rather than a sexual subject (Fredrickson 1997, 180). The aim of this project is not simply to investigate the implications of this particular fabrication of Cyrus’ new gender-bending identity. Rather, I will argue that a feminist framework enables new ways of understanding feminist subjectivity.

Feminism seems to have been the buzzword of 2013-2014 celebrity culture. Stars from pop diva Beyoncé to Star Trek legend Patrick Stewart have confirmed their

allegiance with the feminist movement. Emma Watson’s powerful United Nations address also called for the reclamation of and involvement with the term feminism

(Robinson 2014). However, some celebrities such as Katy Perry and Kelly Clarkson have denounced the term because “they believe in humanism or they love men or other such reasons that make little sense” (Gay 2014). Cyrus has proclaimed herself to be “the biggest feminist in the world” (Gevinson 2014). In an article for the Huffington Post, journalist Gaylene Gould suggests, “this year, feminism cloaked celebrity culture like a new mink and shifted units in the process” (Gould 2013). It seems that there is no space for feminism in celebrity culture because the system dictates profit making and therefore the celebrity is simply an object for profit. Is there any brand of feminism that allows for this exploitation? What happens to feminism when it is idolized through the female celebrity?

While the self-proclamation of one’s feminist status is important in the feminist agenda, what is more important is the manner in which one acts out their feminism. In her work Feminism is for Everybody, women-of-color feminist bell hooks speaks to the phenomenon of lifestyle feminism in which “the assumption prevailed that no matter what a woman’s politics […], she too could fit feminism into her existing lifestyle […] without fundamentally challenging and changing [herself] or the culture” (hooks 2000, 6).

Lifestyle feminism is therefore an insufficient means of engaging with and challenging the patriarchal constructions that dictate social, political and cultural inequalities of the sexes. The concept of lifestyle feminism will be developed in conversation with the waves of feminism in the following section of this project in order to problematize the

self-proclaimed feminist status of Cyrus. It is through the concept of lifestyle feminism that this project will ask: Is Cyrus all talk when it comes to feminism?

This new Cyrus, like her Disney predecessors, sold her newly empowered and mature style to consumers through music, dancing, and particularly her performance at the MTV Video Music Awards (VMAs) in 2013 in the wake of her new album Bangerz

(Figure 1). This new Cyrus will therefore be termed post-Bangerz for the remainder of this project. Cyrus is using her celebrity status to share images of what she holds to be the ideal feminist subjectivity: women who are able to flaunt their sexuality, engage in risqué and illegal behavior, and use racialized female bodies as props. Why? Totes obvi:

I mean, guy rappers grab their crotch all fucking day and have hoes around them, but no one talks about it. But if I grab my crotch and I have hot model bitches around me, I’m degrading women? (Gevinson 2014)

You’re right Miley! Where is the damn equality? Especially for those racialized women whose asses you are slapping and twerking with to prove you’re equal to any male rapper.

You go girl, am I right?

Figure 1: MTV Video Music Awards Performance Source: Kroll, Katie. “Twerk it out: Miley and Robin’s VMA Performance, One Year Later”. Rolling Stone. August 22, 2014. Accessed: February 15, 2015.

Through using women’s bodies, simulating sex, and portraying an attitude of nonchalance regarding the law, Cyrus sold us the image of the liberated, sexual, unafraid female subject. But what we actually got was a rich, white, angsty postfeminist subject whose “I don’t give a fuck” (Cyrus et al 23, 2013) attitude epitomizes the postfeminist archetype? The notion of postfeminism comes from the idea that women have reached equality and is therefore premised on the “pastness of feminism, whether that pastness is merely noted, mourned or celebrated” (Negra and Tasker 2007, 1). Through understanding that female celebrity reinforces the postfeminist subject, the problem becomes less about whether or not these women are feminists, and more whether they can be feminists. The appeal of the female celebrity is often located in their valuable and highly recognizable bodies that are used to create desire and therefore inform consumption (Rojek 2001). The reliance on good or valuable bodies is therefore crucially important for the maintenance of one’s celebrity status. Sue Holmes, author of Framing

Celebrity, argues that “stars and celebrities communicate through their flesh […] and fans idolize and decry the famous on the basis of the perfect or imperfect bodies they display”

(Holmes 2006, 15).

The female celebrity seems to be at the mercy of public criticism while she attempts to navigate the journey between Disney star innocence and embracing her prescribed and codified adult femininity (Vares 2011, 142). Can this Cyrus phenomenon be understood as a young feminist expressing her freedom or is the female celebrity inherently postfeminist? With the help of feminist theorists bell hooks (2000), Betty

Freidan (2013), and Elizabeth Grosz (2011), I will contextualize Cyrus’ particular brand of feminism in order to formulate a new understanding of the female celebrity subject. By

interrogating the implications of celebrity culture on Cyrus’ feminism, I will reimagine a

Groszian narrative that is conducive to celebrity feminism through the concepts of art, subjectivity, and becoming new. Ultimately, the intention of my project is to make Cyrus useful for feminist thought in new and different ways. Cyrus is a feminist in that she is challenging what we conceive of as feminism, therefore becoming a new feminist subject of her own choosing.

In the first chapter, I contextualize feminism with an emphasis on interrogating the embedded corporeal narrative within the philosophical feminist perspective (Grosz

2011, 77). This analysis will showcase that feminism is a form of ontological critique rather than simply a suffragist movement for women. Subsequently, I will conduct a case study of Cyrus’ performances, as well as interviews and articles concerning the efficacy of Cyrus’ feminism. This analysis will not only allow for a critique of the feminism presented through the performance art of Cyrus, but it will also facilitate a defense of her feminism. In chapter three, I will argue that Cyrus resonates with contemporary youth culture and therefore her feminism must not be dismissed. The third chapter will lay the foundation for a philosophical rearticulaiton of Cyrus’ feminism. This project will conclude with chapter four in which I will rearticulate the feminism presented by Cyrus using the work of critical feminist philosopher Elizabeth Grosz, in order to explore new ways of understanding feminist subjectivity. The final chapter will redeem Cyrus by presenting an understanding of feminism that sees the feminist subject as one who is always in the process of becoming feminist.

Chapter 1: Contextualizing Feminism

It is necessary to examine how feminism has evolved from its original appearance in the late

19th century in order to engage with contemporary feminist theory. In this chapter, I will highlight the pivotal moments in the history of feminism that have informed contemporary understandings of feminist theory. I argue that feminism is critical of not only patriarchy but also of itself. This self-critical quality has allowed for feminism to develop as we know it today, and will enable me to engage in a critical reading of Cyrus in the second chapter. With this contextualization of feminism, I will move forward to situate the problematic concept of postfeminism. Ultimately, I argue that postfeminism is informed by historical understandings of feminism and necessitates an ideal corporeal female subject.

Feminism can be seen as a series of waves. The wave not only distinguishes the first, second and third movements, but it also symbolically represents the interconnection between them. Natasha Pinterics and Estelle Freedman explain the ontological transformation of the feminism that is useful to this chapter. Pinterics and Freedman inform this project because of their particular care to contextualize mainstream American feminism through a racial and classist lens. This treatment of race and class enables further interrogation of the cultural and social inscription of sexed bodies, especially the one presented by post-Bangerz Cyrus. The exclusionary nature of North American feminism’s history is important to understand because it will allow this project to situate Cyrus within the new era of postfeminism. While much literature has been produced pertaining to postfeminism, I will focus primarily on Diane Negra and Yvonne Tasker’s understanding:

The commodification of ethnicity and racially marked urban culture. Once difference is commodified rather than politicized within mainstream culture; such cultural processes are predicated on an implicit chronology that firmly

“posts” activisms centered on the consequence of racial inequalities. (Negra and Tasker 2007, 8)

Postfeminism is implicit in racial and classist paradigms. However, it is crucial to examine the evolution of feminism from its beginnings with the suffragists to present day in order to understand the exclusion of certain voices. It is because of the racial and classist focus of this project that I will turn to the women-of-color feminism of bell hooks and Freedman to problematize the generalizing and exclusionary tendencies of contemporary mainstream feminism. Throughout this chapter, I will situate feminism as a critical ontological approach to the socio-political ideologies that constitute contemporary popular culture—and, more specifically, Cyrus.

Feminism, in much the same way that waves compound on and build from previous waves, owes its existence to prior struggles. Pinterics examines the beginnings of the Western feminist movement with the female suffragists who made way for “significant gains in the lives of women” (Pinterics 2001, 15). While each subsequent wave has been built off of the

“gains” of its predecessors, progress is not the sole method of assessing feminism. A chronological history of North American feminism allows for an alternative view of feminism, not only a sequence of waves building upon each other, but a space of emerging critical thought.

Ien Ang complicates “progress” in conversation with mainstream definitions of feminism through discussing intersectionality, race, class, and gender (Ang 2003). Rather than understanding feminism as the culmination of fought-and-won feminist battles, Ang argues that feminism should be understood as the process of “developing a self-conscious politics of partiality […], which does not absorb difference within a pre-given and predefined space but

leaves room for ambivalence and ambiguity” (Ang 2003, 191). Ang understands that feminism, as critical theoretical framework, serves to problematize preconceived definitions of gender, sexuality, and race. Therefore, I will trace the history of contemporary feminism in the United

States in terms of self-critical reflectivity.

The term feminism first appeared in Europe during the late 19th century. During its early development in the United States, Freedman argues that feminism was closely related to the women’s movement that fought for “women’s common human identity with men as a basis for equal rights” (Freedman 2002, 4). This women’s movement, also known as the suffragist movement, was primarily concerned with women gaining the right to vote. Although the origins of the suffragist movement pre-date the civil rights movement, I will draw upon the tense social and political atmosphere during the civil rights era. Central to these early debates were civil rights activists Susan B. Anthony, Lucretia Mott, and Elizabeth Cady Stanton

(Freedman 2002, 4). While these women were known for campaigning for the abolition of slavery, it was the social tension of the anti-slavery movement that allowed for the foundation for women’s liberation. Through their exclusion from civil rights debates in the late 19th century, these affluent, white women began to identify and challenge institutionalized political and social practices and “privileges that only a few enjoy” (Freedman 2002, 79).

It is no coincidence that the first wave feminist movement coincided with the early civil rights movement at the turn of the century: “the U.S. women’s movement split over a constitutional amendment to enfranchise former slaves that did not include woman’s suffrage”

(Freedman 2002, 79). These early feminists identified the fact that African American men would soon have political status that was superior to their own. Feminist historian Rosalyn

Terborg-Penn explains that early feminism was, “for the most part, […] for white women to be

included in the rights and privileges of a racist society” (Terborg-Penn 1998, 110). Feminism began as a battle between definitive and differentiated bodies of inscription that positioned the white female against the African American male. Suffragists used the civil rights movement to support their agenda for women’s liberation by asking “[…] if ignorant Black and immigrant men could vote… why not educated white women” (Freedman 2002, 80)? While there were many motivations for the suffragist movement at the beginning of the 20th century, it is important to understand that race and class played a role it feminism’s early development. The foundation of early feminism in the United States that was driven and supported by predominantly affluent, white women has deep roots in racist ideology.

Even though women’s liberation can be seen in direct relation to the political struggle of African Americans at that time, the outcome of the women’s suffragist movement was crucial for the pursuit of political, social and economic equality between men and women.

From this point forward feminism began to broaden in scope. African American women began to engage in the debates concerning equality and liberation and they provided a “critical perspective for white women, alerting them to the integral connections between race and gender” (Freedman, 2002, 83). These voices served to challenge social and political hierarchies that favored the white, heteronormative male subject above everyone else by “articulating their personal experience of race” (Freedman 2002, 83). The doubly oppressed subjectivity of the

Black female facilitated more broad conversations of race, class, and gender. Women-of-color feminism served immensely to complicate feminism by incorporating class and race.

Second-wave feminism began in the wake of the Second World War that saw the mass employment of American women to support the war effort from the home front (Freedman

2002, 191). After the men came home from war, women were forced back to the private sphere

to take care of their family and homes while their husbands resumed their roles as the breadwinners of the family (Freedman 2002, 191). This restoration of traditional gendered roles allowed for feminists such as Betty Friedan to articulate the widely felt frustration of suburban housewives in her work The Feminine Mystique, as “the problem that has no name”

(Friedan 2013, 7). Though her work has since been critiqued for her narrow perspective and entire exclusion of class and race, Friedan critiqued socially constructed gender expectations and the “role of women” (Friedan 2013, 170). Chela Sandoval argues that second wave ideology was considered “a ‘white women’s movement’ because it insisted on organizing along the binary gender division male/female alone” (Sandoval 2012, 78).

Mainstream feminism during the post-War era was concerned with the struggles of the modern affluent housewife (Friedan 2013). Second-wave feminists “embraced equal rights law, but they could not ignore the complications posed for working women by pregnancy and motherhood” (Freedman 2002, 191). It wasn’t until much later that women-of-color critiques of feminism began to engage with the racial and elitist nature of second wave feminism. While feminism at that time had been equated with the struggle of the housewife, bell hooks argued that it did not “take racial difference or anti-racist struggle seriously” and “did not capture the imagination of most women-of-color” (hooks 2000, 56). Though there was a move to bring value to the lived experience and systemic struggles that women of color face on a daily basis, one need not look further than the front page of today’s newspaper to identify the persistent challenge that women and men of color face.

Women-of-color feminism can be understood as originating as the critique of second- wave feminism, and remains a dominant feminist discourse to this day. Though it is clear that there are significant racial tensions in the United States today, women-of-color feminism made

significant contributions to feminist thought in the last half-century. In her work Feminism is for Everybody, hooks explores the elitist and racially exclusive qualities of feminist politics during the 20th century. Hooks draws the parallel between second-wave feminism and neocolonialism in that “privileged-class white women swiftly declared their ownership of the movement” (hooks 2000, 44). Furthermore, hooks argues that “many women [were] appropriating feminist jargon while sustaining their commitment to Western imperialism and transnational capitalism,” (hooks 2000, 45) without recognizing the implicit acceptance of patriarchal narratives. It is through hooks’ argument that “metaphysical dualism was the ideological foundation of all forms of group oppression,” (hooks, 200, 106) that women of color began to question these fundamental epistemological paradigms.

Women-of-color feminism decolonized views on women’s issues and problematized the subjugation of lower class, African American women. Hooks argues that it is necessary to incorporate a more intersectional and critical feminism by recognizing the narrow scope of contemporary thought:

As many black women/women of color saw white women from the privileged classes benefiting economically more than other groups from reformist feminist gains, from gender being tacked on to racial affirmative action, it simply reaffirmed their fear that feminism was really about increasing white power. (Hooks 2000, 42)

This marks an important shift in feminist thought, as hooks presents a more complex and intersectional feminist subjectivity. Hooks moves forward in explaining that “all white women in this nation know that whiteness is a privileged category” (hooks 2000, 55) and that it is not their ignorance, but rather their denial, that allows for the continual repression of this knowledge.

While hooks does not chastise other feminists, she calls for a reflection on the ways in which we understand ourselves as feminists. This reflective ideology stems from hooks’ articulation of the concept of lifestyle feminism. Lifestyle feminism states that “there could be as many versions of feminism as there were women,” (hooks 2000, 5) and that each individual woman could be a self-proclaimed feminist “with the underlying assumption that women can be feminists without fundamentally challenging and changing themselves or the culture”

(hooks 2000, 6). While it is problematic to deny a self-proclamation, hooks argues that it is not enough to claim the title of feminist without challenging contemporary patriarchal structures.

Hooks uses the example of reproductive rights in order to critique this concept of ‘lifestyle feminism’:

If feminism is a movement to end sexist oppression, and depriving females of reproductive rights is a form of sexist oppression, then one cannot be anti-choice and be feminist. A woman can insist she would never choose to have an abortion while affirming her support of the right of women to choose and still be an advocate of feminist politics. (Hooks 2000, 6)

While hooks is not the first women-of-color feminist, her work investigates the ontological shift from a feminism based on the agendas of white women towards a feminism that integrates the intersectionality between “institutionalized race, sex and class” (hooks 2000, 40). With women-of-color feminism, hooks was able to mark a critical shift from the dualistic ontological practice of second wave feminism towards a more inclusive third wave.

As a third-wave feminist, Leslie Heywood examines the importance of revaluing subjectivity in order to engage with political and social realities. Heywood explores the similarities between second and third wave feminism insofar as “the third wave [is] a movement that contains elements of second wave critique of beauty culture, sexual abuse, and power structures while it also acknowledges and makes use of the danger and defining power

of those structures” (Heywood 2003, 3). Third wave feminist theory has not departed from the roots of the first and second waves. Rather, third-wave has placed greater value on the critique of ontological practices that constrain and subjugate people, knowledge, and ways of life. The third wave has been important for the analysis of the relationship between the lived experiences of people and the oppressive reign of patriarchy (Heywood 2003, 3). This analytical method can be employed in the media, political and economic sphere, and even the private sphere as third wave feminism is important in examining complex issues of gender inequality, sexuality, and the lived experience of women. Heywood argues, “we are all third wave feminists, bringing the specificity of our historical situation to our widely variable definitions of that term” (Heywood 2003, 4). Therefore, subjectivity became the trademark concept of third-wave feminism.

Furthermore, third-wave feminism repositions the concept of expert knowledge. Rather than privileging the voices of the Friedanian-type feminist subjects, third wave feminism took cues from women-of-color feminism to situate the expert in terms of subjectivity and intersectionality. In rejecting the canonization of feminism by affluent white women, third wave feminism creates the platform to listen to the voices of those who had been previously silenced. Heywood argues that whereas “essential subjectivity has historically been used to oppress women,” (Heywood 2003, 157) third wave feminists have worked to engage with dominant ideologies that are complicit in the continual subjugation of peoples. As noted by theorist Nancy Fraser, feminism was able to reimagine itself as a theoretical framework that seeks to explore “all struggles for recognition” (Fraser 2003, 88). Feminism evolved to be understood as a framework for a critique of knowledge.

Feminism incorporates the diverse subjectivities that are rendered subordinate in the patriarchal paradigm. Heywood addresses the importance of this epistemological critique by arguing, “subjectivity is shaped by language, that subjectivity is always already split or fragmented” (Heywood 2003, 166). To engage with the multi-vocality of the world that we live in, third-wave feminist valuation of the subjective voice is essential. This intersectionality showcases “the enormous range of women’s’ experiences” (Heywood 2003, 236) concerning feminist thought:

The process of perpetually redefining identity categories is self-defeating for the act of self-definition depends on exclusion and thus on the construction of an ‘other,’ that which one must exclude and indeed reject in order to constitute oneself as a subject. (Heywood, 2003, 157)

Implicit in third wave feminism is its “refusal of a singular liberal-humanist subjectivity,”

(Heywood 2003, 124) that allows for the meaningful and critical engagement with processes of subjectivity. The inclusive and intersectional nature of third-wave feminism gave subjugated populations the platform for political engagement.

However, third-wave feminism appears to be in crisis. As discussed by Angela

McRobbie, there has been a shift away from third-wave engagement with epistemological critique towards “the current post-feminist climate” (McRobbie, 2009, 127). Postfeminism is understood as “a set of assumptions, widely disseminated within popular media, having to do with the ‘pastness’ of feminism” (Negra and Tasker 2007, 1). Tasker and Negra examine the concept of the postfeminist subject in that “postfeminist culture works in part to incorporate, assume, or naturalize aspects of feminism; it also works to commodify feminism via the figure of woman as an empowered consumer” (Negra and Tasker 2007, 2). From a postfeminist perspective, women have finally become fully emancipated and equal to men and there is no longer any need for critical and subjective feminist engagement (Negra and Tasker 2007, 2). In

many ways, postfeminism harkens back to the Friedanian understanding of second wave feminism. To become and equally valuable member of society in Friedan’s perspective, women must engage with patriarchal structures of capitalism through “the right to honorable competition and contribution” (Friedan 2013, 453). Friedan argues that consumption, competition, and contribution to the economy are what will ultimately liberate the suburban housewife. Similarly, postfeminism is “thoroughly integrated with the economic discourse of aspirational, niche-market Western societies,” where women are constructed as “both subjects and consumers” (Negra and Tasker 2007, 7-8). Postfeminism, similar to second-wave, constructs subjectivity around consumption.

In third wave feminism, race is crucial to interrogate because of the systemic inequalities that are prevalent in society (hooks 2000, 16). However, in postfeminism, the reliance on market-based capitalism is dependent on the reproduction of race and gender identities for the oppression and exploitation of certain others for profit. In her work Between

Feminism and Materialism, Gillian Howie argues, “in fact, racism and sexism function so well in capitalist society because they work to the advantage of some members” (Howie 2010, 29).

Howie continues her analysis of race in the context of postfeminism, in that material feminism reveres “the cogency of equality versus difference arguments that [have] produced an increasingly paralyzing anxiety over falling into essentialism” (Howie 2010, 88). Capitalism exploits the social constructs of gender and race in order to create a subjugated class of differential consumers. Women and racialized groups are meant to buy into their own identity under the guise of empowerment: “[they] can be given the sense of identity, purpose, creativity,

[…] by the buying of things” (Friedan 2013, 245).

Race and class situate those who have access to postfeminist emancipation. If you are a white, affluent, well-educated female, then you are less likely to believe that you are oppressed.

McRobbie discusses the classist and racialized bias by drawing upon the idea of the ideal “TV blonde,” who is touted as ambitious, strong, intelligent, and beautiful (McRobbie 2007, 31).

These individualized bodies of the ideal have come to be understood, through the global proliferation of hegemonic Western mass media, as no longer “exclusive to the countries of the affluent West” (McRobbie 2007, 31). This ideal Western female has become the archetypical postfeminist subject: she is a well-off, powerful, ambitious, and restlessly consuming products to signify her femininity. This independent, do it yourself-er, is seen on TV and in movies so regularly, that the image becomes normalized. Cameron Diaz, Hayden Panettiere, and Charlize

Theron are all examples of this postfeminist subject: their fame and massive pop culture following deem them “subjects par excellence, and also subjects of excellence” (McRobbie

2007, 30). Postfeminist subjectivity is dependent on preconceived understandings of what it means to be feminine, therefore creating a subjectivity based on exclusivity. So long as women continue to fabricate their corporeal feminine identity through the consumption of products, and the modification their bodies, postfeminist subjectivity reigns.

In today’s popular culture, feminism has become tainted to the extent that women no longer feel the need to continue to fight for equality and respect of the different sexes. As articulated by McRobbie “feminism is taken into account but only to be shown to be no longer necessary. Why? Because it now seems that there is no exploitation here” (McRobbie 2007,

33). So long as it appears that women are acting with their own volition, there must be nothing to critique; feminism must no longer be needed. Women are finally free, are they not? No, they are not. The crisis facing feminism today is that it is no longer taken seriously.

Feminism is nothing new to the realm of politics and popular culture. Feminist thought has maintained a social, cultural, and political agenda that has significant roots in the late 19th century with the suffragists’ battle for the right to vote. However, conversations pertaining to feminism have changed while still maintaining the foundation of gender equality and critique of patriarchy. Feminist theorists such as bell hooks (2000),

Angela McRobbie (2009), and Elizabeth Grosz (2011) have served to challenge feminism and create new spaces for feminist thought. In this sense, the problem facing feminism is not necessarily structural; it is fundamentally ontological. It is insufficient to talk about feminism in terms of women being equal to men, or to refer to the pastness of feminist critique. Feminism challenges us to think of things differently and to become different than how we are constructed (Grosz 2011, 51). This notion will be further examined in the following chapters. However, in order to address the problem at hand—the feminism of pop-rebel Cyrus—the following chapter will provide a critical analysis of the performance art and subsequent literature that surrounds the 22-year-old.

Chapter 2: Cyrus and her “Hot Model Bitches”

In this chapter I examine the particular brand of feminism presented by Miley Cyrus in her

2013 album Bangerz. I will highlight her tendency to misappropriate her privilege as a signifier of universal freedom from patriarchy. I argue that Cyrus epitomizes the postfeminist subject developed in chapter one. Through this analysis of interviews, music video releases, and televised performances, I will examine the limitations of contemporary feminist arguments as they pertain to Cyrus. The feminism presented by Cyrus will inform a rearticulation of feminism through the work of theorist Elizabeth Grosz.

A celebrity’s stance on feminism has become a contested debate in popular culture. While some have rejected the term, or have been hesitant, Cyrus has embraced it enthusiastically (Izundu 2013). While this may seem like great news for feminism, it is necessary to further interrogate this claim. The particular brand of feminism that Cyrus presents through her performance art, interviews, and social media must be examined in order to understand whether or not there is any force behind these words, or if this self- proclamation is apolitical lifestyle feminism that bell hooks warned us about.

In her article “My two cents on feminism and Miley Cyrus”, Lisa Wade argues that Cyrus’ performance art is “exploitation, [that] will be distinctly gendered because sexism is part of the very fabric of the music industry” (Wade 2013). Although there is no way to understand the psychosocial processes that have gone into the creation of Cyrus’ feminism, I am exploring the way popular culture makes use of Cyrus’ performances.

Through this analysis, I will not make the distinction between intentional and unintentional political moments. Rather, I will contextualize Cyrus’ performance art as a means of investigating the manner in which mainstream feminist thought understands

Cyrus. In terms of this project, I will situate mainstream feminism as the feminist conversations that are presented and discussed through the mass media.

There have been numerous controversial public appearances by the 22-year-old female pop singer, from smoking marijuana on stage during a concert in Miami (The

Associated Press 2014), to her nude photo shoot in the August 2014 issue of V Magazine

(Thomas 2015). However, this project will focus on her performance at the 2013 VMAs and the lyrics from her hit song “We Can’t Stop,” in order to examine Cyrus’ controversial actions and performances.

After the October 2013 release of her album Bangerz, Cyrus began touring the world with her new sound and “I don’t give a fuck” attitude (Gevinson 2014).

Controversy began to surround Cyrus after her 2013 performance at the VMAs, in which she and Robin Thicke treated the awe-struck audience to a mash-up collaboration of their hit singles “We Can’t Stop” and “Blurred Lines”. According to Rolling Stone, Cyrus’ performance was nothing more than a visual orgy of “dancing teddy bears, an overused foam finger [simulating masturbation], an unflattering flesh-colored bikini […] and twerking – lots and lots of twerking” (Kroll 2014). Twerking, as articulated by popular culture theorist and journalist Joe Lynch, is a popular form of dance that “was born out of

New Orleans’ bounce music scene,” (Lynch 2013) in the 1990’s. Twerking usually features a female dancer squatting in front of and gyrating against her partner’s pelvis. In the case of the VMA performance, Cyrus’ partner happened to be pop-artist Robin Thicke, a married man who is 15 years her senior (figure 1). While controversial performances are not unheard of at the VMAs, Cyrus and Thicke’s spectacle drew much criticism.

Issues of consent, rape culture, and the misappropriation of black culture were discussed online.

Thicke has been subject to numerous critiques of the blatant maltreatment of women and general disregard for sexual consent since the 2013 release of his hit song

“Blurred Lines” (Kroll 2013, Makarechi 2013). According to Katy Kroll, “Blurred Lines” can be characterized as a “rapey song” that highlights problematic social anxieties pertaining to consent, sexual violence, and rape culture (Kroll 2014). By marrying

Thicke’s song with the rebellious “I don’t give a fuck” anthem of Cyrus’ hit single “We

Can’t Stop,” pop culture critics and fans alike began engaging with and criticizing the power dynamics in the duos VMA performance. Thicke is accused of exploiting Cyrus’ sexuality by articulating the idea of consent as “blurred lines,” and repeatedly antagonizing his female object (Cyrus) by chanting “I know you want it” (Thicke 2013).

Simply put, by positing that the male authority figure understands the sexual desires of the young woman without asking, Thicke is perpetuating a patriarchal norm that situates the female as a voiceless, thoughtless, object whose sole purpose is to fulfill the sexual desires of the male.

However, the incorporation of Cyrus’ song “We Can’t Stop,” may serve to critique Thicke’s “rapey” anthem. Cyrus’ song highlights a nihilist attitude about youth culture and sexuality: “it’s our party we can love who we want, we can kiss who we want, we can live how we want” (Cyrus 2013). The combination of these songs complicate preconceived, heteronormative ideas of gender and sexuality. By placing these two songs in conversation with each other, I argue that Cyrus may not be blindly submitting to the authority and dominance of the male singer. Cyrus is a young woman who is trying to

articulate a sexual liberation anthem that rejects the ideas of traditional gender roles, which situate a passive, innocent, virginal female character. This reading of Cyrus reflects contemporary social anxieties concerning rape culture, consent and sexual objectification of the female body (Kroll 2014). It is not so much the intent of Cyrus, but rather the manner in which her performance art is taken up by feminism, that warrants analysis.

Thicke’s “Blurred Lines” has been central to many conversations on the topics of rape, consent, and the objectification of female bodies. The controversial VMA performance serves to critique the power structure that facilitates these patriarchal narratives. Thicke has since been scrutinized for his role in the perpetuation of rape culture through the problematic lyrics and the video for his song that pictures naked women being treated as objects and/or animals (figure 2). Though Cyrus was involved in the presentation of this sexual dynamic, she was able to use her performance to problematize the idea of the female victim. Cyrus and Thicke enraged and scandalized their audience by entangling these two narratives of power and sexuality that forced spectators, fans, and critics alike to discuss the patriarchal dynamics that situate the male as the offender, and the female as the victim of sexual violence.

Figure 2: “Blurred Lines” woman as a table Source: Blurred Lines. Performed by Robin Thicke, Pharrell Williams, T.I. United States: Star Trek Records, 2012. Music Video. Victim may seem a strong word to attribute to Cyrus whose behavior at the VMAs bordered on the

pornographic, yet many feminist bloggers and celebrities alike have come to Cyrus’ defense. Journalist Tamara Kagel notes that instead of situating Cyrus as a victim, it should be understood that “[Cyrus] is pushing the envelope to an extreme, but she should be allowed to” (Kagel 2013). However, victim is a term that is present in the lexicon of

Irish folk artist Sinnead O’Connor, who scripted a cautionary letter to Cyrus in the wake of her performance with Thicke. O’Connor, among others, has claimed that Cyrus’ unsavory wardrobe and distasteful performance during the VMAs only function to undermine her autonomy. She posits that Cyrus is merely a pawn for the “music business to make a prostitute out of” (O’Connor 2013). While these criticisms are not invalid, they also reveal a troubling social tendency to criticize the sexualization of women by undermining their agency in their particular subject position.

The criticism penned by O’Connor in her “Open Letter to Miley Cyrus” simultaneously condemns the patriarchal notions of gender within the music industry, while situating Cyrus as a puppet at the mercy of the music industry elite (O’Connor

2013). O’Connor’s letter displays the slut-shaming narrative that positions the woman as the master of her own subjectification, and places blame on Cyrus for not being more modest and respectable. Slut-shaming is a dominant cultural narrative that blames the woman for situating herself as a victim and that women ought to “avoid dressing [and acting] like sluts in order not to be victimized” (Ringrose 2012, 333). Through this narrative of slut-shaming, it becomes clear that there is a blatant tone of condemnation within the rhetoric deployed by O’Connor. Cyrus must recognize and reject her sexual exploitation and stop “prostituting” herself by keeping her clothes on and acting more respectable (O’Connor 2013).

O’Connor’s criticism of Cyrus sparked responses from feminist advocates around the world, including Cyrus herself. In response to O’Connor, Cyrus openly mocked

O’Connor through a Twitter post in October 2013. Cyrus’ post depicted O’Connor in a state of mental distress, therefore undermining her authority by situating O’Connor as a neurotic and unstable individual whose opinion has therefore lost validity due to her psychosis (figure 3).

Figure 3: Tweet from October 3rd, 2013. Source: Cyrus, Miley. Twitter post, October 3, 2013, 8:53 a.m.,

While Cyrus engages in the shameful conduct of trivializing O’Connor’s struggles with mental illness, she ultimately disregards the slut-shaming narrative by responding with what could be considered an equally outrageous accusation. In this dialogue, Cyrus’ sexuality is just as much to blame for patriarchal objectification of female bodies as

O’Connor’s mental illness is to blame for her own experience as a “prostitute” of the

music business. Cyrus’ “refusal of slut as a signifier of shame” (Ringrose 2012, 336), calls into question the moralizing discourse of shame, modesty, and gender excpetations.

There have been many celebrities and prominent feminists who have criticized

Cyrus’ presentation of sexual emancipation as simply a product of gender normativity in the music industry (O’Connor 2013, Kroll 2013, Makarechi 2013). However, Cyrus anticipated this reaction and revels in the criticism (Gevinson 2014). By ensuring that her sexuality is “goofy and inaccessible, intended for her own pleasure,” (Gevinson 2014)

Cyrus problematizes her subject position as the object on display for male consumers.

Her androgynous appearance and boyish frame mock conventional understandings of what is sexy and slutty. Cyrus’ feminism is one that ridicules traditional understandings of woman through binarized gender constructs.

Cyrus’ personal attire is not the only feature of her post-Bangerz persona that has been under intense scrutiny. Featured in the performance was a group of black female dancers adorned with abnormally large teddy bear backpacks and giant sunglasses (figure

4). Backup dancers are predominantly understood to enhance the aesthetic experience of the audience by providing a more grand visual articulation of the performance. However, the manner in which these particular dancers were positioned and used by Cyrus during her performance is problematic in the sense that these women were not dancers so much as they were props. Kia Makarechi of The Huffington Post addressed this in her article

“Miley Cyrus brings her race problem to the VMAs” that was published shortly after the infamous spectacle. Makarechi points out that during the performance “black people

[were] used as props,” (Makarechi 2013) intended by Cyrus to portray her post-Bangerz edgy and urban pop persona. By “having voluptuous, black backup dancers figure as

meat for slapping,” (Makarechi 2013) Cyrus quickly sparked heated discussion concerning the treatment of gender, race, and class in contemporary popular culture.

Figure 4: VMA Backup Dancers Source: “Miley Cyrus ‘didn’t think about’ VMAs performance, simply wanted to ‘make history’”. Huffington Post. September 3, 2013. Accessed: February 15, 2015.

Cyrus has not cowered from discussing these issues of gender and race in interviews after the performance—in fact, she claims to have anticipated this reaction and eagerly speaks to any concern that has been raised (Gevinson 2014). As Cyrus addresses the issue of the specifically chosen black female dance-team, she explains that “the reason [she] hired those girls for the VMAs is because they’re not white, skinny girls— they’re healthy-looking girls” (Gevinson 2014). It is difficult not to be swept up in the body positivity that appears to be the central focus of Cyrus’ choices concerning the physicality of her backup dancers. However, it becomes clear that there are more menacing and subtle forces at work. By positing that there is a “healthy-looking” girl,

Cyrus’ feminism begins to focus on notions of culturally informed ideas of healthy bodies, valuable bodies, and female bodies.

Angela Chaplin posits that this conversation about the racial overtones in the

VMA performance is insufficient if the voices of the black backup dancers are not incorporated into the discussion. Chaplin argues, “maybe Miley’s backup dancers did feel objectified. But maybe they also felt great” (Chaplin 2015). The lived experience of these backup dancers is not something that should be taken lightly because their voices and opinions about the experience matter (Chaplin 2015). Furthermore, Cyrus responds to these claims by arguing that she made a conscious decision to choose a group of black female backup dancers because “[they] have danced together since they were like six years old,” (Gevinson 2014) and they worked well together. Cyrus points to her experience on the Disney Channel where it was crucial to actively incorporate difference:

“you need to make sure there’s, like, an Asian girl and a black girl and a Puerto Rican girl in every scene. And that isn’t life” (Gevinson 2014). Reading Cyrus’ use of black backup dancers speaks to the objectification and racialization of certain female bodies. However, she is simultaneously creating a platform for the discussion of female bodies and sexual difference.

It is here that I begin to locate Cyrus’ feminism. Cyrus is making the claim that she will not compromise her performance to accommodate a facade of political correctness that “isn’t real life,” and therefore unabashedly incorporates the black backup dancers who perform well together (Gevinson 2014). Without sacrificing the overall aesthetic quality of her performance, Cyrus presents her fans and critics with an interesting and unconventional rearticulation of femininity, gender identity, and sexuality

facilitated by her privileged celebrity status. While recognizing that her privilege plays an important role in the way we can understand problems of race and class, it is insufficient to dismiss Cyrus as another “reincarnation [that] is ex-child star protocol” (Gevinson

2014). Social and cultural theorist Alan Hunt argues that the controversy surrounding her performances is a sign of the discomfort and tension that has been enabled by the moral economy of contemporary society (Hunt 2011). Cyrus expresses the problematic tendency to constrain and define female identity to the corporeal and calls her fans and critics to start thinking about these things.

Cyrus objectifies the “healthy” bodies of her female dancers, thus validating the ontological paradigm concerned with defining and valuing the specific corporeal manifestation of women through her “instantly polarizing smorgasbord of wannabe twerking and (black) ass slapping” (Makarechi 2013). Cyrus’ feminine subjectivity is one that fixates on problematizing normalized ideas of the feminine. Though it may seem that

Cyrus is moving towards a more body-positive and inclusive feminism, the paradox lies in the fact that this is simply a reimagining of corporeality within the same ontological paradigm that fixates on socially constructed ideas of gender. However, Cyrus critically engages with material fabrications of gender in that there are a wider variety of bodies one display in Cyrus’ performance. During the VMAs, her performance featured “thick black women”, little people, and Cyrus herself (Makarechi 2013). I argue that Cyrus’ feminism is still dependent on the understanding that these different bodies are all still constrained by the term woman, but Cyrus has used her status as a highly recognizable public figure in contemporary popular culture to facilitate conversations concerning feminism, gender, and race.

Furthermore, Gevinson challenges Cyrus’ incorporation and fetishization of ratchet culture into her Bangerz tour. According to gender and race theorist L.H. Stallings, ratchet culture is a concept that initially appeared in African American culture in reference to “the failure to be respectable, uplifting, and a credit to the race” (Stallings

2013, 136). Feminist blogger Sesali B. examines this “ratchet” appropriation by arguing that the term has “become the umbrella term for all things associated with the linguistic, stylistic, and cultural practices… of poor people; specifically poor women of color” (B.

2014). By borrowing the term ratchet to describe her Bangerz tour, Cyrus is drawing upon the cultural capital of African American culture to legitimize herself by gaining status that is typically associated with hip-hop culture. Julie Sweetland argues that Cyrus aligns herself with black hip-hop culture by utilizing the “distinctive linguistic features associated with African American Vernacular English” (Sweetland 2002, 514). By incorporating culturally marked language, Cyrus is able to authenticate her hip-hop persona.

Cyrus incorporates this term into her lexicon and performance art with the intent to accumulate hip-hop credibility. Although Cyrus has been criticized for this misappropriation of black culture, she argues that:

For [me], it was meant to describe an aesthetic, like ratchet nails or ratchet whatever. I’m not, like, making fun of culture. You just do it ‘cause that’s just a weird title… That was just a word that was popular last year. I don’t even love it when girls call each other slut, like, “hey slut” or whatever, but it’s your intention and the way you say it [that matter]. (Gevinson 2014)

According to Cyrus, it is not about race at all. In fact, she does not seem to think that race plays a serious role her performance, stating that “[she] could never be like, ‘Hey I’ve got to break you up ‘cause it’s politically correct to throw a white bitch in here’” (Gevinson

2014). Misappropriating ratchet culture into her performance enables Cyrus to engage with post-racial ideology that negates the idea that racism is still a systematic narrative in the United States. Cyrus is playing with a term that is deeply rooted in the socio- economic exploitation of African American women in order to connect directly with contemporary youth culture by engaging with a particularly trendy discourse (Gevinson

2014).

While drawing upon a lexicon that was developed as a mechanism for African

Americans to navigate the socio-political landscape of post-slavery United States, Cyrus was far from the first individual to misuse this term. Cultural commentator John Ortved notes that while the term “ratchet” has origins in the discourse pertaining to working- class African Americans, there has been a shift in the meaning over time (Ortved 2013).

Celebrities such as Beyoncé, Tyra Banks, and Lady Gaga have reclaimed the word and used it in such a way that gives it power. Ratchet has been removed from its negative connotations in “an attempt to de-pathologize it and to celebrate both its edginess and its roots in the southern working class” (Ortved 2013). Through celebrity endorsement, ratchet has become a term that is “not necessarily negative […], you could say ‘I’m ratchet’ to say ‘I’m real. I’m ghetto. I am what I am’” (Ortved 2013). It is within this transformation that one may begin to redeem the oft-critiqued cultural borrowing that is evident throughout the performance art and lyricism of post-Bangerz Cyrus.

This critique of cultural misappropriation is not invalid. However, it is insufficient to dismiss Cyrus as simply another controversial starlet going through her transformation from child-star to sexual woman. There is more at stake in the Cyrus conversation than the simple and predictable transition from the virgin to the whore. Cyrus confronts the

ontological practices that are embedded in contemporary cultural discourse by challenging the limitations of political correctness, gender, and sexuality. While Cyrus is incredibly controversial, she points to the hypocrisy that allows “guy rappers grab their crotch all fucking day and have hoes around them,” (Gevinson 2014) but if women do the same, they are being degrading. This paradox situates Cyrus, and other women in positions of power, as villainous rather than emancipated. There is a reason that we love to hate Cyrus.

While she is correct in positing the obvious gender division in the music business concerning the treatment of women, Cyrus is simultaneously demanding that she should be afforded the same privilege as men: the objectification of the sexualized female body.

Cyrus draws attention to the problem of inequality by insisting that she, as a woman, should be able to exhibit the same behavior as her male counter-parts. This call for equality seems to be progressive. However, it still renders the female body subject to the pleasure, manipulation, and objectification of others. Cyrus’ feminism removes the agency from said “hot model bitches,” and places control in the hands of the privileged subject position of the celebrity. The problem with Cyrus’ feminism is that while she calls into question the gender norms and subordinate subject position of the female in contemporary popular culture, she is not offering a critique of the patriarchy. While these explanations seem probable, it would be too easy to dismiss her call for equality as a publicity stunt or camouflage under which she can defend her own exploitation of the female body for profit.

Cyrus has expressed her feminism in new ways that deviate from the traditional notions of gender and race equality. By situating herself in the position traditionally

associated with the male, Cyrus ruptures the manner in which we understand gender hierarchies. While she is not offering a critique of patriarchy, Cyrus is challenging her fans and critics to engage. There are numerous problematic qualities inherent in the performance art of Cyrus, and there are many reasons why critics might claim that she is in fact quite harmful to feminism. Upon critical reflection however, Cyrus might be doing something more subtle, but with greater implications. Cyrus calls for us to engage with and challenge our preconceived notions of feminism.

In the next chapter, I will engage with these questions and begin to interrogate the more serious social and political implications of the politicization of pop culture. Through this discussion, I argue that there is more at stake in popular culture than coming to terms with female sexuality and that there may be something more formidable at play concerning Cyrus. Whether we want to admit it or not, there is something important happening with Cyrus, and it would be naïve to ignore the fact that what she is doing resonates so well with contemporary youth culture.

Chapter 3: Resonance

In this chapter I examine what it is that Cyrus is telling us about contemporary feminism, and why it is that we must not ignore her. The reason for Cyrus’ fame is one that deserves an entire project to itself, however it is necessary to engage with the understanding of celebrity culture posited by popular culture theorists Charles Kurzman and Chris Rojek, in order to contextualize her celebrity status and the reason that she resonates with contemporary youth popular culture.

The subject-position of the celebrity is the direct product of capitalism. Kurzman explains that “celebrities are creatures of capitalism: they involve the commodification of reputation […] and the construction of audiences” (Kurzman 2007, 353). The celebrity is not an autonomous being devoid of structural constraints, but one that is necessarily indebted to the cultivation and maintenance of social and cultural ideas and anxieties:

“[celebrity] was born out of capitalism and mass media, and its dynamics reflected the conditions of the modern era” (Kurzman 2007, 353). Cyrus’ celebrity status and fame is a product of the times and is reflective of contemporary social, cultural and political conditions.

By tracing the development of celebrity culture in the United States over the past two centuries, Rojek presents an analysis of the tensions between moral anxieties and celebrity notoriety. Rojek explains that, “the celebrity bears no moral connection with moral elevation… Notoriety is an equivalent source of public fascination” (Rojek 2001,

61). Fame situates the celebrity in a unique subject position in which she/he has the recognizability to be seen, and the celebrity influence to express ideas (Rojek 2001, 61).

The controversial celebrity simultaneously embodies and expresses social anxieties concerning morality:

To some extent, this form of ecstasy can be explained as a function, per se, of transgression – that is, conscious desire and behavior that breaks moral and social conventions. Transgression is a universal characteristic of human culture. It is a source of anxiety and curiosity, prohibition and pleasure. (Rojek 2001, 54)

This ecstasy emerges from religious ideology in which “the celebrity replaced the monarchy as the symbol of recognition and belonging […], celebrities have become immortal” (Rojek 2001, 14). The celebrity performance offers observational access to the realms of pleasure and desire and is therefore coveted by the masses (Rojek 2001, 14).

Regardless of their behavior, the celebrity has now replaced the existence of monarchs, deities, or God in the sense that “celebrity culture is now ubiquitous, and establishes the main scripts, presentational props, conversational codes and other source materials through which cultural relations are constructed” (Rojek 2001, 57). Cyrus is therefore positioned as desirable and idolized by many.

This morality-driven idolization of celebrities can be seen while examining the immense amount of controversy and subsequent moral discussion surrounding the actions and behaviors of the young star (Kroll 2014; Lumpkin 2013; Wade 2013). Her celebrity status has engaged masses in a similar way that religion unites and dichotomizes masses

(Rojek 2001, 14). Sue Homes supports this understanding of the idolized celebrity in the context of capitalist society:

It is in a cultural universe made out of simulacra that the relationships which emerge between star/celebrity and fan/consumer fill the world with productive, surplus emotionality that cannot be easily channeled or ‘sucked up’ by capitalism, and which offers people transgressive models of identity. (Holmes 2006, 23)

Evident through this reading is that the celebrity has been constructed as the body to be coveted and emulated; their behavior and fabricated identities serve to reinvent understandings of what is acceptable and what is right (Holmes 2006, 23). The recognizability of the celebrity is important in articulating and authenticating the new normal—the new morality.

Celebrities are beings of the flesh in that they must articulate their art through aesthetics: “stars and celebrities communicate through their flesh […] and fans idolize and decry the famous on the basis of the perfect or imperfect body they display” (Holmes

2006, 15). The notorious celebrity speaks to social anxiety in that they are the ones who have the platform and the recognizability to problematize social moral codifications.

Rojek argues that:

… The figure of notoriety possesses color, instant cachet, and may even, in some circles, be invested with heroism for daring to release the emotions of blocked aggression and sexuality that civilized society seeks to repress. (Rojek 2001, 15)

Through this articulation of the relationship between notoriety and socio-political anxieties, it is clear that the emergence of moral-based discussion pertaining to Cyrus is reflective of the contemporary political milieu. Cyrus can be conceived as a symbol of newness and the embodiment of the growing frustrations pertaining to established ideas concerning acceptable treatment of gender, race, and class (Rojek 2001, 15).

Cyrus embodies a set of contradictions that are not easily reconcilable. Her post- racial attitude is critiqued by her use of race in her performances. Her gender—while decidedly female—is undermined by her newfound androgynous appearance. Cyrus’ sexually explicit lyrics and music videos are problematized by their unconventionality and her rejection of dominant ideas concerning how one should behave as a gendered and

raced individual. McRobbie examines this societal tension in that the youth of today are overwhelmed by a culture of prohibition and restraint. McRobbie argues that today’s hyper-securitized and socio-politically demanding cultural landscape, youth culture produces “a subcultural aesthetic that asks its fans to ‘shut up and dance’” (McRobbie

1994, 167). Cyrus resonates with this aesthetic through her nihilistic attitude concerning political issues such as the treatment of race, class, and gender.

Popular culture is a valuable indicator for the social and political atmosphere, and therefore should be taken seriously. The anxieties that are felt by youth are expressed in the work of contemporary pop and hip-hop musicians (McRobbie 1994, 166). Cyrus’ performances are ripe with dissatisfaction and the rejection of social expectations that have been placed on contemporary youth (Gevinson 2014). Cyrus has presented a way of being that escapes the social problems facing today’s youth culture by crying out “this is our house, this is our rules. And we can’t stop, and we won’t stop” (Cyrus 2013). The mere fact that Cyrus has sparked heated discussions concerning race and gender suggests that there are certain social anxieties inherent in contemporary political culture

(O’Connor 2013, Kagel 2013, Makarechi 2013).

Alan Hunt argues that it is important to interrogate and understand the socio- cultural tensions that define contemporary society:

Lurking in every discussion of moralization – whether framed by panic or regulation framework – is the troubling concept of anxiety. In its simplest form, accounts of moral politics always seem to depend on the explanatory power of motivational anxieties… Moral panics owe their appeal to their ability to ‘find points of resonance with wider anxieties’. (Hunt 2011, 67)

There is a reason that these discussions of race and gender are dominating social media, celebrity culture, and news media. Youth are expected to navigate the growing

complexity of a social paradigm that necessitates political awareness of these difficult issues (Hunt 2011, 66). According to feminist theorist Jessica Ringrose, the moralizing discussions concerning post-Bangerz Cyrus are associated with her blatant racialization and sexualization of female bodies (Ringrose 2012, 336). However, there are some who defend her actions, claiming that she is challenging social expectations placed on the contemporary youth (Gevinson 2014).

Cyrus resonates because she calls into question our dependence on a discourse that necessitates identities that are both exclusionary and binary: virgin/whore, male/female, black/white. The exacerbation of this binary narrative results in social and moral panic. Melanie Kennedy argues, “recent work within the social sciences and girlhood studies recognizes the contradictory contemporary anxieties and panic that understand girls as both sexualized and innocent” (Kennedy 2014, 239). While Cyrus’ sexuality departs from the Disney years as the virginal Hannah Montana character, her androgynous appearance problematizes the male/female dichotomy, and her appropriation of black culture positions her in conversation with racial identity.

Cyrus presents her identity as one that cannot be articulated through a binary discourse. She is a creature of contradictions, one that is relatable in her confusion

(Kennedy 2014, 238). Drawing upon the works of feminist philosopher Luce Irigaray,

Rosemarie Tong argues, “self-contradiction is a form of rebellion against the logical consistency required by phallocentrism” (Tong 1997, 229). This self-contradiction is central to Tong’s understanding of feminist thought as a mechanism of challenging the phallocentric nature of patriarchal discourse. Cyrus is the self-contradictory creature of

feminism that does not necessarily reject the capitalist paradigms that facilitate her fame, but one that utilizes her subject-position to challenge social norms.

Whether she is seen simulating masturbation on stage, smoking marijuana on tour in Miami, or objectifying her black female back-up dancers, Cyrus is starting conversations (The Associated Press 2014). Cyrus is making people mad while simultaneously pleasing herself and campaigning for the freedom of sexual expression of her fans (Gevinson 2014). Feminist blogger and pornographer Jincey Lumpkin argues that Cyrus’ feminism is just as valid as other feminisms in that “Miley owns Miley’s body, and she can do with it what she pleases” (Lumpkin 2013). Lumpkin argues that we must “stop the witch hunt [and] acknowledge that female sexuality is loud, proud and here to stay” (Lumpkin 2013). Cyrus is eliciting such reactions because she is presenting us with a new sexuality that situates a young female in a subject position of authority.

Through this chapter, I have situated the notorious post-Bangerz Cyrus as one who is idolized and emulated in order to inform reimaginings or morality and normalcy in contemporary society. Cyrus embodies moral panics concerning the sexualization and racialization of the female body within the context of capitalism. The polarizing moral discussions that have resulted from the 22-year-old’s Bangerz performance art support the argument that Cyrus is a political actor. By facilitating discussions concerning race, gender, and sexuality, Cyrus creates a critical reflective space in which socio-political anxieties can be articulated. Cyrus’ celebrity status serves to support the theory that her notoriety necessitates the perpetual oscillation between glorification and criticism.

Chapter Four: Cyrus is Art

Miley Cyrus is a problem. She is a problem because we do not know quite what to make of her. Her actions and performances present a particularly sexualized and racialized female identity, while she simultaneously challenges the same patriarchal culture that situates her as such. Cyrus is a new generation of feminist, one who does not seem to

“give a fuck” about the socially constructed expectations of feminist subjectivity

(Gevinson 2014). Cyrus’ feminism is about using her performance art to problematize convention and instigate conversations pertaining to sex, gender, and race. However, this is just one particular way of mobilizing Cyrus to talk about feminism. Drawing on the concepts of art, reterritorialization, and becoming, I engage with feminist philosopher

Elizabeth Grosz in order to present a feminist rereading of Cyrus as art, rather than Cyrus as the creator of feminist art.

In her work Becoming Undone, feminist philosopher Elizabeth Grosz engages with the work of Charles Darwin in order to offer a philosophical rereading of sexual selection and its implications for feminist thought (Grosz 2011, 86). Grosz contemplates the dynamic relationship between feminist theory and the genesis of new concepts and ontological practices (Grosz 2011, 77). With this understanding of the generative qualities inherent in philosophical feminist thought, I will move forward with the reframing of Cyrus as a controversial female celebrity—but more importantly—as art generating newness. This genesis of the new builds from Grosz’s concept of becoming:

Becoming means that nothing is the same as itself over time, and dispersion means that nothing is contained in the same space in this becoming… Difference means that the constraints of coherence and consistency in subjects, and in the identity of things or events, is less significant than the capacity or potential for chance, for being other. (Grosz 2011, 97)

Becoming negotiates this newness through the understanding that the material body is constituted of “the past to its present forms, [and] through the continuous growth and accumulation of the past, through [ones] inherent immersion in virtuality” (Grosz 2011,

32). The body represents the culmination of one’s being into the physical, tangible, and malleable now. As such, becoming can be seen as the rupture of this continuum of perpetual being, into the realm of newness: “life erupts from (and transforms) the material conditions that enable matter to “remember”” (Grosz 2011, 32) what it previously was.

The memory of what has been does not disappear; it rather acts as a means of revealing, or unfolding, onto the becoming.

Central to this discussion of becoming is Grosz’s philosophically charged concept of art. For Grosz, art challenges and engages with the new insofar as “art explodes with colors, forms, narratives, both public and secret, but also and above all, with affects”

(Grosz 2011, 188). Through her articulation of art, it is understood that “life brings art to matter and art brings matter to life” (Grosz 2011, 38):

Art here is not to be understood as fabrication or techné, the subordination of matter to conscious purpose or taste, but as intensification. Life magnifies and extends matter and matter in turn intensifies and transforms life. Art is engendered through the excess of matter that life utilizes for its own sake, and through that excess of life that directs it beyond itself and into the elaboration of materiality. (Grosz 2011, 38)

For Grosz, art is more so a method of transcending the real—imagining the unimaginable—than it is a mode of revealing. Art plays an important role in the formulation of newness and becoming in Grosz’s feminist framework, and therefore equally crucial in the rearticulation of Cyrus as art.

Cyrus’ feminism is complicated and controversial. From her performance at the

2013 VMAs to her provocative worldwide Bangerz tour, Cyrus is all about causing

trouble and sparking debate. To further complicate Cyrus’ feminism, Huffington Post reported that Cyrus has recently released the short pornographic film entitled “Tongue

Tied,” directed by Quentin Jones. “Tongue Tied” depicts Cyrus in various bondage scenes, “smearing herself with black oil as she writhes to the music” (Marcus 2015). This short film became popular once it was announced that Cyrus would submit it to the first annual New York City Porn Festival in February 2015. While “Tongue Tied” was not presented during the festival (Marcus 2015), the short clip has been much discussed in social and news media. “Tongue Tied,” as articulated by Simon Leahy, the founder of the

NYC Porn Festival, is a thoughtful effort to “become more of a contemporary artist”

(Carballo 2015). Rather than speaking of Cyrus as a performance artist, this short film has facilitated her transition from the producer of art to the body depicting art; therefore becoming other than what she was.

Grosz examines the idea of the morphing of subjectivity as an art of sorts.

Throughout her work, Grosz engages with the concept of subjectivity as it pertains to the knowing subject, “whether the subject is understood as a desiring subject, a speaking subject, or as a decentered subject” (Grosz 2011, 84). By complicating the concept of subjectivity, Grosz is able to mark a shift between Cyrus as the generator of feminist art to the decentered art form in herself. Cyrus is removed from the position of the celebrity body on the stage and transformed into the bound body of art in “Tongue Tied”. This shift facilitates a feminist rearticulation of Cyrus as one who is now “beyond the subject, bigger than the subject, outside the subject’s control or possibly even comprehension”

(Grosz 2011, 84). Through her performance in “Tongue Tied,” Cyrus is illustrating the tensions of expectation and desire. Cyrus’ struggle with the bondage constraints in the

short film is reflective of her struggle to articulate her own complex identity that is confined and codified by celebrity culture and feminist critique.

The subject does not make itself; the subject does not know itself. The subject seeks to be known and to be recognized, but only through its reliance on others, including the very others who function to collectively subjugate the subject. (Grosz 2011, 84)

Cyrus is engaging with her audience in an entirely different manner that sees the removal of herself as the knower, or the producer of new knowledge. Her body is now presented as the vulnerable corporeal form in that she embodies art: “art has come to have a new life, for it [becomes] unchained from the representation of us, subjects, and our petty interests and fantasies to come invested with the forces of the world” (Grosz 2011, 189).

Cyrus paints her body and adorns herself with bondage-themed garments as a representation of the struggle that she faces as a young woman. She is expected to restrain her sexuality, so she exposes herself. She is expected to embody freedom and power, so she choreographs her struggle with rope, tape, and masks. The complicated contemporary milieu is a precondition for art in that, “one lives one’s identities, whatever they may be, however complex their intricacies, within a sexed body” (Grosz 2011, 109). Cyrus is allowing herself to engage creatively, and therefore challenge her audience to navigate the tensions and complexities of constraint, bondage, and art.

The body remains the focal point for Cyrus’ feminism. However it is the process of “becoming feminist” (Grosz 2011) through her body that must be addressed. Grosz argues that, “the material world is that which is capable of unrolling or unfolding what has been already rolled or folded” (Grosz 2011, 29). New concepts and ontologies are revealed through critical engagement with art. The art presented in the short film comes

in the form of Cyrus’ body. Cyrus, who has been revered for her powerful sexuality, is now situated as the submissive and vulnerable subject. This film facilitates “the inevitable unwinding or unfurling, the relaxation, of what has been cocked and set, dilated, in a pregiven trajectory” (Grosz 2011, 29). Cyrus’ body has not become something that is new and tangible. Rather, she is submitting to the process of becoming: “indeed there is no subject of becoming or a thing that is the result of becoming—but only something in objects and subjects that transforms them and makes them other than what they used to be”

(Grosz 2011, 51). Cyrus’ corporeality is the canvas of her own art.

The body of Cyrus has been examined, scrutinized, critiqued, and contemplated.

Her body, one that has been territorialized by the music industry, feminists, popular culture scholars, and even myself, “has no fixed boundaries and is maintained only through regular use” (Grosz 2011, 184). “Tongue Tied” facilitates her reclamation of the territory that is her body, and positions Cyrus in such a way that she acknowledges her constraints and playfully engages with a new subjectivity. The film depicts the coupling of illustrative graphics, segmented body parts, and bondage, thus focusing on the corporeal fabrication of the body (figure 5, 6). Her disjointed performance is reflective of the idea that “life emerges from the chaos of materiality through chance, through the protraction of the past into the present” (Grosz 2011, 77). Cyrus’ appearance in the film is not dramatically different than what has been presented during her Bangerz tour.

However, her art is now fundamentally different. Cyrus is using her body in a new way that renders her subjectivity external to herself—she has been made “unrecognizable”

(Grosz 2011, 87). Black paint masks her porcelain complexion. Her flesh is constrained and bound by thick bands of black plastic material. Rather than outlandishly expressing

her sexuality, Cyrus illustrates the antagonistic relationship between social pressure and identity.

Figure 5: “Tongue Tied” 1 Source: "Tongue Tied – Miley Cyrus." Ampersand. May 6, 2014.

Figure 6: “Tongue Tied” 2 Source: "Tongue Tied – Miley Cyrus." Ampersand. May 6, 2014.

The concept of becoming is integral in this Groszian articulation of Cyrus as a work of art. According to Grosz, art is the capacity to engage with subjectivity in new and creative ways, therefore revealing and seducing new becomings:

Art is that ability to take a property or quality and make it resonate with bodies to the extent that this quality take bodies away from their real immersion in a particular habitat and orients them to a virtual world of attraction and seduction, a world promised or possible but never given in the real. (Grosz 2011, 172)

The sexually drenched film is art in intricate, complex, and interconnected ways. Cyrus’ body, that holds the collective imagined memory of the performed sexual art “[is not] the same subject in each repetition, for [it carries] all earlier repetitions within [it] as memory”

(Grosz 2011, 32). Her body holds the memories of the body that once twerked against

Robin Thicke during the VMAs, just as her body holds the memories of the virginal protagonist of Disney Channel’s Hannah Montana. Her body holds a multitude of private, lost, ephemeral moments from biological conception to the present. Cyrus’ art “is thus both added to the material forces of the world to give them a new kind of resonance and also what is extracted from the material forces and made to function in a different way”

(Grosz 2011, 192). Cyrus embodies the chaos and complexity of becoming in a world that constrains and inscribes meaning on bodies.

The socially inscribed body of Cyrus is important in this Groszian reimagining of the body. As Grosz articulates, “race, class, and religion are divisions imposed by cultures on sexed bodies, bodies which are differentiated from each other and in each generation through the implications of sexual reproduction” (Grosz 2011, 106). The female body has long been marked and signified as subordinate through its binary association with its male counterpart because “the world or the real is readily divisible

into binary pairs” (Grosz 2011, 50). However, the art presented in “Tongue Tied” situates the female body as submissive, vulnerable, and bound. Cyrus is confronting the contemporary milieu that would condemn this self-subjugation, in order to revel in the

“secret depth or complication [of the body]” (Grosz 2011, 51). The bound body of Cyrus reveals the ever-present constraints that are placed on the female body. Her body becomes her art in that she uses “the resources (aesthetic cinematography) for the artistic transformation of [her] own body” (Grosz 2011, 185). This aesthetic recaptures the body of Cyrus and rearticulates it in such a way that reveals itself in the process of becoming:

“this is an art that brings new forces into existence by elaborating natural and social forces themselves” (Grosz 2011, 201). Drawing upon her reality, Cyrus performs her internal struggle.

Cyrus is art in that she presents her struggle with becoming other than what she is expected to be. Through the short film “Tongue Tied,” Cyrus exceeds the realm of the real—the realm of static being—through the process of reterritorializing her body as a location of identities, inscriptions, memories, meanings, and subjectivities. Grosz argues that it is art that “creates boundless new forms, provocative and arresting colors, vibrating forces that tell of a new way of seeing and living in the world” (Grosz 2011, 192).

Grosz’s creative philosophical framework enables one to “[acknowledge] the real’s capacity to be otherwise, its ability to become more and other” (Grosz 2011, 51). By taking this approach, Cyrus is no longer a subject to be discussed in terms of gender, race, class, and patriarchal hegemony. Rather, Cyrus becomes a particular locus for the explosive forces of becoming: “art is a virtual leap into new worlds to come, it is the way

that the present most directly welcomes the future” (Grosz 2011, 191). Cyrus’ art, therefore, is located in her complex subjectivity.

Cyrus is widely criticized for her avant-garde behavior and reckless abandon of conventional political correctness. She causes discomfort because she is challenging standardized understandings of identity politics, heteronormativity, and racial divisions.

The release of “Tongue Tied” has facilitated an entirely different reimagining of feminist theory in terms of subjectivity, becoming, and art. By setting these concepts in conversation with each other, Grosz offers a philosophically charged feminism; one that addresses the real but is “directed to the future, […] to making a new kind of real” (Grosz

2011, 201). Feminist theory becomes the ontological paradigm through which we may begin to reimagine bodies, art, and becomings. Cyrus is but one in a constellation of becomings that embody the ability become unrecognizable. However, “it is the positioning of these qualities elsewhere that enables them to generate sensations, enliven and transform bodies, and add new dimensions to objects,” (Grosz 2011, 187) that one may transcend new becomings.

Through Grosz’s understanding of life as “the continuous reframing of every internal perspective with another equally valid perspective,” I constitute the body of

Cyrus as “nothing but a vast teeming multiplicity of […] perspectives” (Grosz 2011, 119).

Groszian thought generates a space within which one may situate Cyrus as a complex, unrecognizable subject who embodies the concept of becoming feminist.

In the film “Tongue Tied,” Cyrus submits to an unseen, unrepresented, intangible dominator. Her body is bound and she is displaced from her pristinely manicured corporeality as she is smothered with thick black oil. Her body resembles that which it

was before; she maintains her androgynous haircut, her body is similarly adorned in revealing, shiny garments. However, there is something distinctly different about this film that distinguishes it from her performance art during her Bangerz tour. Rather than presenting particular ideas about gender, agency, sexuality, race, and class, Cyrus is embracing the accumulation of her present complexities and laying bare her vulnerabilities. While the feminism within this short bondage clip may not be obvious, feminist theory is essential in this rereading of Cyrus, “not as a plan or anticipation of action to come, but as the addition of ideality, incorporeality, to the horrifying materiality, the weighty reality, of the present” (Grosz 2011, 81). Cyrus explodes forth from the materiality of her reality and becomes something new.

“Tongue Tied” presents a distorted image of Cyrus. This new image is one that is complex in its simplicity. Cyrus has been transformed from the producer of art to art itself. Grosz states, “art is the excess of matter that is extracted from [matter] to resonate for living beings,” (Grosz 2011, 189) and it can therefore be understood that Cyrus embodies that which is beyond the threshold of her corporeal being. Cyrus presents us with a unique opportunity to engage with art as a disruptive force, one that “erupts from within a natural order,” and “devours life through intensity, force, pleasure, and pain as no natural or given forces can” (Grosz 2011, 189). Though “Tongue Tied” is merely one instance of this eruption of creative conceptual genesis, Grosz challenges us to use this philosophical feminist thought to engage with the world around us. Cyrus is just one of many—but she is an important work of art.

Conclusion

Miley Cyrus is political. Though there are people who would argue that Cyrus is incredibly problematic because of her treatment of gender, sexuality, race, and class

(O’Connor 2013, Goodin-Smith 2014, Gould 2014), I argue that Cyrus’ politics resides in her ability to instigate political discussions. Throughout this project, I have explored the way in which feminism has situated Cyrus as a political problem. The historical indebtedness that feminism has to corporeal understandings of subjectivity has facilitated a moral discourse that surrounds the controversial performer. Her performance art verges on the pornographic because of her incorporation of objectified and racialized bodies, explicit simulation of sexual acts, and her nearly naked appearance (Gevinson 2014).

Cyrus is criticized because she appears to reject convention and engage with a style of performance art that ridicules social anxieties pertaining to gender, race, and sexuality. Her status as a celebrity allows for the emergence of a multiplicity of conversations concerning feminism. In the second chapter of this project, I presented a feminist reading of Cyrus in order to show the problematic dependency that feminism has on a moralizing discourse (O’Connor 2013, Makarechi 2013, Gay 2014). By examining the limiting narrative through which mainstream feminism understands Cyrus, I have argued that Cyrus is a political actor worthy of analysis. Cyrus’ political implications emerge in that she resonates with contemporary society because her performance art embodies uncomfortable complexities of contemporary politics (Rojek 2001, 54).

Through tracing a brief history of feminism in the United States over the past two centuries, I have shown the development of a moralizing narrative. The discussion of feminism through the first chapter also situated feminism as a critical ontological

framework through which we may read and engage with contemporary social, political, and cultural issues. The issue under examination in this project is not actually Cyrus.

Rather, her post-Bangerz persona served as an event through which feminist discourse could be analyzed. Through this project, I have mobilized Cyrus’ post-Bangerz persona in order to situate contemporary feminist theory and posit a philosophical reimagining of feminism as a critical ontological process of becoming.

The world in which we live is full of anxiety and uncertainty. Though our world is complex, it is also ripe with the potential for newness and creativity: “this is what life is, the continuous reframing of every internal perspective with another equally valid perspective” (Grosz 2011, 119). With this project, I have used feminism as a framework through which we may learn to navigate the complexities of our world. Solace may be found in the ability to reimagine life as a process of becoming other than what we were:

I am not the same subject in each repetition, for I carry all earlier repetitions within me as a memory. Memory is not so much added to each perception as each perception inheres in an order of the virtual that expands and elaborates it through its difference from, and thus in its addiction to, each earlier repetition. (Grosz 2011, 32)

Rather than accepting the expected outcome of mainstream feminism, that would situate

Cyrus as a postfeminist subject, I challenge the reader to think critically and reflexively about subjectivity in the contemporary political milieu.

This project is not about Cyrus. I argue that a philosophical reframing of subjectivity can be used to creatively mobilize political, social, and cultural anxieties.

Political philosophy and feminist theory facilitate the emergence of new subjectivities— new ways of understanding ourselves as becoming that which is new. By recognizing that

“the material world is that which is capable of unrolling or unfolding what has been

already rolled and folded,” (Grosz 2011, 29) this discussion offers an alternative framework through which we may navigate the intricacies and anxieties of the now.

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