No other artist captures the drama and fragility of the AIDS era as Karen Finley does in her 1990 classic book Shock Treatment. "The Black Sheep," "We Keep Our Victims Ready," "I Was Never Expected to Be Talented,"--these are some of the seminal works which excoriated homophobia and misogyny at a time when artists and writers were under attack for challenging the status quo. This twenty-fifth anniversary expanded edition features a new introduction in which Finley reflects on publishing her first book as she became internationally known for being denied an NEA grant because of perceived obscenity in her work. She traces her journey from art school to burlesque gigs to the San Francisco North Beach literary scene. A new poem reminds us of Finley's disarming ability to respond to the era's most challenging issues with grace and humor.
KAREN FINLEYs raw and transgressive performances have long provoked controversy and debate. She has appeared and exhibited her visual art, performances, and plays internationally. The author of many books including A Different Kind of Intimacy , George & Martha , and Shock Treatment , she is a professor at the Tisch School of Art and Public Policy at NYU.
This book is pretty cringe-worthy overall, but has some lovely moments hidden here and there. I think partly the issue is that much of this writing was created for performance monologues, and it just doesn't translate properly on paper. And that is really disappointing, since I've been wanting to learn more about Finley for a long time. Most of these pieces are delivered in the voice of a crass, horrible, obscene white dude, which is taken to a certain extreme but in a way that seems a bit flat. Also, Finley changes voice often between sections or within a single piece, from the asshole dude character into a more direct / less ironic angry feminist voice, which gets super confusing. None of it is very nuanced, except when Finley is writing about grief.
David Wojnarowicz does polemic much better, and I have a feeling Kathy Acker does the obscenity/oppressor's voice thing much better - taken out of its performance context, this work is pretty ineffectual. I should probably look for old video of Finley's performances instead.
I was a participant in Finley's exhibit, "Memento Mori" at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Los Angeles in 1991. Covering sexual, social, and political issues, the exhibit was made up of two Tableaux Vivant: The Women's Room and The Memorial Room. I laid nude on a mattress in The Women's Room with only a sheet over me and a birdcage above me made of wire hangers holding a canary. The room was completely quiet and everything was white except the yellow canary and his occasional song.
the parts of this book that were weird, dated, overly/unnecessarily vile and intense were all of those things to an extreme and almost unbearable leave. however, the parts that were good were great. some of these passages are completely and utterly life changing and words that i will think about and carry into my own writing for the rest of my life. i’m glad i read it, it’s just bizarre.
I mean, the beautiful ones are beautiful. The message overall is good. But Finley is really obviously a student of Acker, whose work I don't like very well, and it's her prose and poetry that diverge the most from Acker's style that I like the best. (It's also why Shock Treatment gets 3 stars as opposed to the 2 I gave Blood and Guts in High School.) I just get tired of books like this that have a really intentional horror and disgust to them, where everything's almost a celebration of shit and vomit and piss and rape and has to be described in the most stomach-turning explicit detail possible. I understand the reason and the metaphor, and I agree with the sentiment, but I'm not any less revulsed. I'm glad feminist writers and artists have for the most part left this kind of thing behind.
I love the way Finely addresses issues regarding misogyny and the perspective of sensitive subjects in such a vulgar, disgusting way. Her writing reminds me of a fast-melting candle, and the wax spills and spills.
Many reviewers have rightly described these pieces as "cringe worthy." I'm afraid that I also concur with that adjectival pronouncement. Perhaps these pieces would have had more impact with me if I had seen them as the performances pieces and staged events that they were part of, but in 2018, on a cold white page her rage doesn't transcribe very well at all.
I hate to agree with the snobs, but it's true; Finley is super-pretentious. But the fact that I'm still saying things like "Ooo! I hate a woman that wears Danskins around the house!" after 20+ years qualifies her for an honorary 5 star review.
So badly written. And as the title says - all for shock - but for what end? For example, babies being used as dildos doesn't strike me as a political/progressive point of view. This book is just gross tripe, pointless, stupid, takes itself too seriously, and written in a poor way. I have no respect for this author. How does this shit get published?
There are some absolutely dated and cringe worthy bits in this book. That being said, there are quite a few delightful moments. It's an exceedingly quick read, and it's definitely worth it.
This visceral feminist classic takes sexual narrative to the extreme and will leave you disturbed and uncomfortable, like any good art experience should.
This is the sort of book I would have gone wild for back in the 90s. Feminism is subscribes to is abrasive and I believe that is the point. It concerns itself with in your face brashness of the riot grrrl movement and is very much a product of its time. Using sexuality in ways women aren’t supposed to use it IS effective but maybe less nuanced than a lot of modern feminist approaches. However, as an artifact of feminism it is a testament to what was important to the movement 30 years ago.
2.75 for me. There were some beautiful moments of prose / political commentary, but otherwise it felt very repetitive, on-the-nose… I was hoping for more of a Kathy Acker vibe, but felt like I mostly got lackluster nursery rhymes of feminist outrage…
Los Angeles Review of Books "Finley's Shock Treatment is more than just 'art.' It remains a searing and necessary indictment of America, a call to arms, a great protest against the injustices waged on queers and women during a time in recent American history where government intervention and recognition was so desperately needed. Twenty-five years on, Finley's work continues to shock and provoke readers and audiences, demonstrating the powerful cultural and political impact her work has had on modern American art and performance art."—Nathan Smith, Los Angeles Review of Books
SF Weekly "Overflowing with crude unmitigated rage, Shock Treatment clawed at the bulwarks of homophobia, misogyny, racism, and casual violence, inspiring women like Kathleen Hannah, Michelle Tea, and Miranda July to step up . . . Twenty-five years later, Finley might be less ferocious but she remains astute."—Silke Tudor, SF Weekly
Los Angeles Times "This is the power of Shock Treatment, its direct engagement; 'One day, I hope to God,' she writes in 'Aunt Mandy,' 'Bush / Cardinal O'Connor and the Right-to-Lifers each / returns to life as an unwanted pregnant 13-year-old / girl working at McDonalds at minimum wage.' The irony — or maybe not — is that those sentiments remain relevant; the names may have changed but the landscape not so much. We are still, a quarter of a century later, fighting the once and future culture war, in a country that is as divided, as bifurcated on these issues as it has ever been."—David Ulin, The Los Angeles Times
I first got shocked in high school. A few years later, my ears were electrified by Karen's cd, LIVING IN FEAR. And then again in gay clubs as she forced herself through pulsating sound-systems with "Put your finger in the hole..." Some of her tracks can be found in the book. Wow. The woman's definitely got a voice! Both on the page and off. I haven't read or listened to her work in over a decade, but certain lines still rise up in me from time to time, "You don't own me asshole, you fucking bastard..."
I just started to write about her impact on me, but it turned into a hole poem and now I don't want to share it since GOODREADS won't allow formatting. Too bad. It's an ode to Karen in her own shocking style.
I've seen Karen Finley live, seen her scream about her grandfather shoving a can of peaches up her childhood hoo-haa and then cover her naked body in layers of chocolate, tinsel and sprinkles. That was disturbing in the extreme but at least worked as an artistic piece. Her writings, here, are the words that accompany the exact performance I witnessed, and they just do not work alone, without the theatrics.
When I read this in my freshman year of college it felt like a battle cry. A call to arms. It shook me, violently. That was in 2003. 2015 happens to be the 25th anniversary of this stunning achievement in feminist performative prose-poetry and it still feels remarkably, if not depressingly, relevant. Karen Finley is one of the 12 apostles in my own perversely idyllic envisioning of The Last Supper.
Karen Finley is a modern-day Cassandra, channeling the demons of American culture to a populace that largely writes off her monologues/rants/poems/stories/visions as the the work of as whack job. In truth, she's a seer, a psychic gadfly, an ill-natured sorceress who summons the darkest truths about sex, money and prejudice. She serves up a potent sh*t that's downright toxic in its rage and despair. But the cure is in the poison. Avoid her bitter medicine at your own risk.
one of my undergraduate heroes in the 1980s, shock treatment is one of the classic manuscripts by essayist, poet and performance artist karen finley, one of the infamous "nea four" of the 1980s that caused the entire government agency's funding to be threatened. a great introduction to finley's work, love her or hate her (and lots of people do both).
I read this book when I was about eighteen. I was ecstatic. It was thrilling, subversive, funny, absurd. At times touching and heartfelt, sometimes completely ridiculous, still provocative. Captures a certain spirit of the time when boundries really needed to be pushed & shoved.
This is one of the best books I've ever read, although, I don't recommend it to teenagers. I love how the author influences readers by her powerful words. It's a sad book that reflects most of women's life.
i'm kind of in a weird place because: would this be five stars if i read it now? probably not. but i did read it at the perfect time in both my life and my ~development as a writer~ for it to be something life-changing. anyway read it.