In 2012 and 2013, masses of French citizens took to the streets to demonstrate against a bill on gay marriage. But demonstrators were not merely denouncing its damaging effects; they were also claiming that its origins lay in "gender theory," an ideology imported from the United States. By "gender theory" they meant queer theory in general and, more specifically, the work of noted scholar Judith Butler. Now French opponents to gay marriage, supported by the Vatican, are attacking school curricula that explore male/female equality, which they claim is further proof of gender theory's growing empire. They fear that this pro-homosexual propaganda will not only pervert young people, but destroy the French nation itself.
What are the various facets of the French response to queer theory, from the mobilization of activists and the seminars of scholars to the emergence of queer media and the decision to translate this or that kind of book? Ironically, perceiving queer theory as a threat to France means overlooking the fact that queer theory itself has been largely inspired by French thinkers. By examining mutual influences across the Atlantic, Bruno Perreau analyzes changes in the idea of national identity in France and the United States. In the process, he offers a new theory of minority an ongoing critique of norms is not only what gives rise to a feeling of belonging; it is the very thing that founds citizenship.
Queer theory, the field of academic scholarship beginning in the United States in the 1990s which transformed Anglo understanding of sexuality and gender, has never really taken off in France.
As Bruno Perreau notes in ‘Queer Theory: The French Response’ this is peculiar given that many of the prominent figures in queer theory- Judith Butler, Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick, Gayle Rubin etc – are heavily indebted to 20th century French thinkers including Derrida, Wittig, Lacan and, of course, Foucault.
So why such a chilly reception when these ideas cross back over the Atlantic? Unfortunately, Perreau’s book doesn’t provide much of an answer.
Much of the book is spent on tangential political debates in France, mostly around gay marriage and adoption, which Perreau spends an inordinate amount of time castigate the Socialist Party for.
It is light on the intellectual response to queer theory in France, focusing instead on the rise of far right movements in the country and a new wave of politically engaged Catholic youth.
Nevertheless, there are some glimpses of why queer scholarship has failed to take hold.
American Theory
The word queer doesn’t register in French either as a political or theoretical movement, or as an insult. However, the term is slowly being introduced into the lexicon through pop culture.
As Perreau notes, the French knock off of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy was called Queer, cinq experts dans le vent (Queer: Five Cool Experts) – indicative of the term’s desexualisation and association with “hip” American trends.
The stars of ‘Queer, cinq experts dans le vent’
As such, much of queer theory is viewed with suspicion in France as cultural, political and intellectual institutions try to shield themselves from Americanisation.
The United States has always occupied a combination of fascination and disgust in the French psyche: viewed as a cool transgression of “stuffy” European sentiments whilst also stereotyped as anti-intellectual, imperialist and overly commercialised.
Much of the work of queer theorists has not been translated into French, with the complete works of Judith Butler only translated in 2005.
Nevertheless, a symposium on queer theory was held in France in 2004, but as Perreau notes, it quickly descended (as most queer conferences do) into in-fighting.
A small group of hardened French “queers” at the time, particularly (the comically cliché) Sam / Marie-Helene Bourcier and Marco Dell'Omodarme objected to many aspects of the symposium including that it included parity requirements for equal male and female speakers. “We had already moved well beyond such categories!” decried Dell'Omodarme.
This hits upon at least part of the reason queer political movements haven’t been readily adopted in France. Although French culture is synonymous with protest and revolt, questions of sexuality and gender have tended to be analysed in a reserved way.
Sexual politics is marked by an in-ward, contemplative approach rather than aggressive posturing. As we will see, this likely results from a theoretical divide: sex as a performance versus sex as a ‘gap’. However, it also relates to certain norms regarding identity versus citizenship in France.
Identity Versus The Republic
A fundamental component of French political culture is a set of norms regarding participation in the public sphere. France is not a “multicultural” country, there is an assumption that citizenship should take precedent over familial, ethnic, religious or other social affinities.
This norm is labelled by Perreau as an ‘anti-communitarian’ stance, he explains:
In the French Republic, “communitarianism,” acknowledging a basic loyalty to a given community (whether ethnic, religious, cultural, or sexual), is viewed as a democracy-corrupting illness.
This is completely at odds with many aspects of queer theory and activism, which seek to create spaces for sexual and gender subalterns – often in opposition to an assumed “hegemonic heterosexuality” in the public sphere.
In response to a symposium of queer theorists in the late 1990s, French writer Frédéric Martel described the academic trend as a threat to French culture, noting that:
By including analyses solely from communitarian thinkers and American academics with a propagandist outlook, the project is reduced to an activist event… By claiming to find consolation in the glorification of their own culture, some gay activists explicitly challenge all value judgments. Whether academic or artistic, such judgments are purportedly based on criteria that are imposed (by, implicitly, the “heterosexual establishment”).
For many French homosexuals (“gay and lesbian” being less common terms), the notion of sexual desire creating an “outlook” upon which to base an identity is anathema to intellectual inquiry.
Indeed, in Martel’s book “Global Gay: How Gay Culture Is Changing The World” – he notes wariness of the Americanised export of gay identity (the “American way of gay life”), particularly when it results in a “ghettoisation” in the public sphere.
This tension between public sphere and private identity has led many French homosexuals to question the value of an Americanised model of gay liberation.
What Is Sex?
Another key barrier to the adoption of queer theory in France is its opposition amongst French feminists.
Anne Emmanuelle Berger’s “The Queer Turn in Feminism: Identities, Sexualities and the Theater of Gender” - which Perreau cites dismissively - charts the divide between Anglo-American queer feminist discourse and that of French feminism.
Despite drawing from the same French philosophers, Anglo-American queer feminists approach sex (and gender) from a localised perspective: with an emphasise on posturing, appearance and drag. This arises most strongly from the American sociology of interaction, focusing heavily on visual communication and identity.
Berger describes the Anglo-American approach as focused heavily on visibility, with mostly lesbian theorists becoming enamoured by gay male aesthetics – particularly sadomasochism and drag. The ability for a drag performer, a man playing a woman, to elicit lesbian desire is given paramount significance in many works of queer theory.
This ability to “subvert” current identity through sexual and gender subcultures is central to the theoretical enterprise of Rubin, Butler and others. All of which carve out a new visual culture ostensible “against” the heterosexual norm which strangles creativity.
This approach, which in the words of François Cusset constitutes a “structural misunderstanding” of French thought, is of little interest to French feminism.
French feminist theory is dominated by two main strands: Marxist-inspired materialist feminists such as Christine Delphy and the prominent psychoanalytic inspired feminists including Luce Irigaray, Hélène Cixous and Julia Kristeva.
For the material feminists, “woman” is a class position with norms of femininity and sexuality used to oppress. As such, queer theory constitutes a distraction from the substantial concerns of class conflict. As Delphy writes:
For queer theory, as our scholarly and popular thought, sexuality is something that cannot be controlled, which we control. This is a “new” theory coming to save and revive an old Western light, an old refrain of this patriarchal culture, like any culture of domination, claiming to be the victim of what it has made, and opens its arms in the traditional gesture of despair: “I would like to change that, but you see I cannot help it!” It is this posture then, which is pessimistic.
For French psychoanalytic feminists, the position is a bit more complicated. The psychoanalytic approach views “sex difference” as a real, but indecipherable, component of human subjectivity.
Because of this, many in this group, particularly Irigaray are labelled “difference feminists” by Anglo-American academics. This is somewhat of a misreading, as Irigaray’s work does not wish to define “man” and “woman” but instead to read our biological anatomy as a springboard for an anti-phallogocentric view of sex.
For queer theory: sex is postured, shaped and performed. For psychoanalytic French feminism: sex is a cut, an absence, the thing that can only be misread. The queer theoretical call for visibility is therefore counter to French feminist goals.
Rather than call for new experiments with “masculinity” and “femininity” – French psychoanalytic feminism calls for recognition of the indecipherable “real” in sex difference, one that patriarchal culture tries to cover up.
Given the differences in political goals, it’s therefore not surprising that French feminists have been reluctant to take up queer theory.
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As I’ve noted, Perreau’s text is an attempt to ignore the intellectual opposition within France to queer theory, in favour of reactionary political elements. He is, after all, an advocate for greater incorporation of “queer” discourse into French political life.
However, I think the opposition within France is more illuminating.
French intellectual resistance to Americanised LGBT politics should be celebrated, and the insights from this intellectual space free from US cultural imperialism deserve more attention.
Incredibly well researched and a crutch of my thesis journey. What I loved about this book is that Perreau focuses less on linguistic content and more on cultural and political implications of queer theory. There is so much relevant history on queerness, international politics, and globalization, and Perreau weaves them together seamlessly. I really would have been lost without this work!
Perreau begins by noting that, while French homophobes decried what they deemed "gender theory" as an American import, under the aegis of Judith Butler, queer theory's influences were always French to begin with, Gender Trouble as in conversation with de Beauvoir, Irigaray, Lévi-Strauss, Lacan, Kristeva, Foucault, Wittig, et al. Yet this vision of queer politics as an illegitimate imposition from without becomes for Perreau symptomatic of the French right's generalized xenophobia, which comes to inform its opposition to LGBTQ+ rights. This troubles their attempts to pass off homophobia onto immigrant communities, mostly Muslim ones, what Jasbir Puar has termed "homonationalism." Yet Perreau critiques Puar for homogenizing groups in her analysis, similar to his critique of Bouteldja for reifying national borders by claiming queerness as a Western category. Nevertheless, I find the historiography of both queer and anti-queer movements in recent French politics useful.