Published Essays by Joshua D Martin
“‘Así, yo lo tomé el leme’: Navigating Masculine Power and Liminal Space in Naufragios (1542) by Álvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca.” , 2016
Álvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca’s 1542 account of the American Southwest has long attracted the attent... more Álvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca’s 1542 account of the American Southwest has long attracted the attention of colonialists and hispanists in general. In the 500 years since the text’s publication, scholars have approached the account from a number of theoretical and historical vantage points. Few if any, though, have analyzed how the author constructs an exemplary masculine code within his account in order to justify his prolonged absence and menial subject positions amongst various Native American tribes. By using the insights of masculinity and gender scholars including James Messerschmidt, Michael Kimmel, R.W. Connell, and Judith Butler, I argue that Núñez employs Messianic discourse and performance so as to transform his seemingly subordinate position as an outsider among the natives into a position of power against the other men present. In addition, I propose that the American Southwest functions in Naufragios as a liminal space, and that this uncharted, “in-between” zone of contact allows Núñez to alter power dynamics between himself and local Native Americans by discursively representing their men as violent and lazy in contradistinction to his own aptitude and healing abilities. An examination of how Núñez converges this Christ pastiche within a masculinist framework brings to light the ways in which local power shifts from the other men to Núñez himself--a feat that, in the end, favorably positioned the author for future New World endeavors.
Key words: masculinity, performance, liminal space, U.S.-Mexico borderlands
The Culture and Politics of Populist Masculinities, 2021
The election of Donald J. Trump as the forty-fifth president of the United States has engendered ... more The election of Donald J. Trump as the forty-fifth president of the United States has engendered significant shifts in US politics and culture and has forced scholars to examine the complex mechanisms that helped pave the way for his ascent. A real-estate entrepreneur, political novice, and former reality TV celebrity, Trump emerged onto the national US political stage and was met with both skepticism and scorn given his political inexperience and long history of questionable behaviors. Despite Trump’s defiance toward political convention, his populist appeal shouldn’t necessarily be understood as a wholesale anomaly, especially when we consider his masculine brand in conjunction with his favorite political commodity: the US-Mexico border.
Through an interdisciplinary lens combining critical discourse analysis alongside masculinity studies, I analyze in this chapter three case studies in Trump’s political discourse regarding the US-Mexico border: a rally he held in the border state of Arizona (August 2016), his final debate performance with former Secretary of State and Democratic presidential rival Hillary Clinton (October 2016), and select Twitter messages from his 2016 presidential campaign and tenure. Accordingly, I argue that Trump discursively created social and economic threats through a crisis framework, staging would-be calamities and emergencies that subsequently necessitated brazen actions from a stalwart and novel leader. As critical discourse scholars Isabela and Norman Fairclough contend, “[C]rises have a rationalizing function, the function of restoring rationality where it has been undermined” (2012, 2), thus allowing political actors to craft narratives that demand a call to action against the backdrop of social, economic, and political reforms. Masculine personas often prove critical to this operation, too, since “[i]mages of productive masculinity,” as political theory scholar James Martin notes, “supply authoritative metaphors with which audiences can easily identify” (2014, 154). In Trump’s discursive framework, the US-Mexico border functioned as a staging ground for this political operation, reflecting said crises and reinforcing qualities and actions that found their logical conclusion in Trump’s populist masculine brand. Positing status-quo political actors as effete and incompetent alongside Mexican immigrants whom he configured as invasive and criminal, Trump foregrounded a dyadic specter of feminizing liabilities that necessitated decisive masculine actions and qualities that he, by his own admission, was uniquely qualified to employ.
Just as all masculinities emerge from unique discourses, historical phenomena, and cultural frameworks, they likewise condition a consciousness of self and other, of nation and neighbor, through hierarchies of exclusion, hegemony, and belonging (Connell 2005, 71-72; Connell 1998, 5; Kimmel 1996, 44). In the examples studied here, Trump discursively leveraged animus against immigrants and seasoned politicians while glorifying a nativism that demanded a populist strongman presence in the face of impending havoc. Within this crisis framework, Trump positioned his political brand as an overdue necessity for both a return to order and, more broadly, the preservation of the republic at large. Whereas many US presidential candidates have historically championed a “strength through diversity” trope, Trump regressed into an ephemeral “greatness,” a necessarily vague concept that complemented the emotional gravitas of his populist disdain toward the political status quo and Latino non-nationals. Since populisms flourish in response to real or perceived crises, the US-Mexico border proved essential to Trump’s masculine front, as it created a symbolic terrain of threats and debilities that invited appeals to aggressive actions and novel leadership. In the end, Trump’s border language foregrounded an aspirational horizon of toughness and novelty that, in turn, ensured a continuity for a populist strongman presence that has altered US political culture. This chapter concludes by examining Trump’s 2019 national emergency declaration as a perpetuation of his crisis framework and the populist masculinity that it necessitates.
Nasty Women and Bad Hombres: Race and Gender in the 2016 US Presidential Election, 2018
In the United States, border tropes have long held a close relationship with nationalism, particu... more In the United States, border tropes have long held a close relationship with nationalism, particularly in regards to the United States’ southern border with Mexico. In recent years, both have become increasingly salient in discourses of culture, belonging, and identity, in ways that oftentimes accommodate hyper (Anglo) masculinity as a resource to combat perceived social ills allegedly arriving south of the border. Of the 2016 Donald J. Trump U.S. presidential campaign, these tactics proved especially relevant and effective.
This study considers Trump's use of anti-Mexican (male) stereotypes and border imagery during his 2016 presidential campaign and how the discursive construction of Mexican immigrants continues to reify national loyalties through a binary gendered logic. Trump's tactics pit an imagined Anglo body politic against a criminally invasive brown specter, counterpoising the civic duty and law-and-order respectability of the former against the alleged malice, criminality, and sexual predation of the latter. The alleged porosity of the United States’ southern border with Mexico renders the United States a vulnerable and feminine entity in light of the “bad hombres,” to use Mr. Trump’s phrase, who were in turn configured as invasive and penetrative (that is, masculine) forces.
Trump’s use of border imagery and anti-Mexican stereotypes played a critical role throughout his campaign, delineating a moral calculus of defensive action that found its footing in hyper-masculine excess. Overdue brawn, exceptional resilience, and unfettered strength were configured as solutions in rectifying perceived social ills emanating from Mexico or beyond, and the aggressors were always configured as male actors.
Ultimately, these strategies worked to position Mr. Trump as a hyper-masculine father presence, whose dogged fortitude and perceived strength resonated with the anxieties and sympathies of his largely Anglo (male) voting bloc. This chapter nuances its analysis by reflecting on the deeply-rooted nature of these gendered anti-Mexican stereotypes throughout the twentieth-century, and how Anglo hyper-masculinity continues to operate as a safety valve to combat real or imagined social threats.
Espectros del poder: Representaciones y discursos de resistencia en literatura y cine en los siglos XX-XXI, 2020
English:
Following the rise of hemispheric neoliberalism at the beginning of the 1980s and the ... more English:
Following the rise of hemispheric neoliberalism at the beginning of the 1980s and the further integration of U.S. and Mexican economies, the geopolitical border separating the United States and Mexico has operated as a potent symbol for national identity construction, to say nothing of political mobilization. For latinx writers in the United States, the necessity to confront disparities symptomatic of the border has grown increasingly urgent given the demographic growth of Latino/as in the United States, as well as the subsequent antipathy toward linguistic, racial, and cultural pluralism within the United States. Numerous studies have addressed the representation of U.S. Latino/as in popular culture, while others have considered how fiction by U.S. Latino/a authors expands the borders of the U.S. literary canon. Few, however, have analyzed the representation of cultural mechanisms that perpetuate a cycle of anti-latino/a resentment, historical myopia, and the resultant trauma that is at once personal and collective. The present manuscript responds to this void by analyzing Names on a Map (2008) by Chicano writer, Benjamin Alire Sáenz.
Taking as its theoretical orientation the concepts of the crypt, advanced by psychoanalysts Mária Török and Nicolas Abraham, and hegemonic masculinity, studied in depth by sociologist Raewyn Connell, this manuscript proposes that Names on a Map traces a personal and collective haunting within the Espejo family through the prism of transgenerational trauma and masculinized nationalism. The young protagonist, Gustavo, resists a transgenerational trauma, understood as “the undisclosed trauma of previous generations [which] might disturb the lives of their descendants” (Davis 374), by cultivating a Chicano identity and its corresponding masculinity. Both compel him to confront the crypt, “an artificial unconscious,” according to Abraham and Torok (159), or a “repository of the secrets of the past ... where the memories of [one’s] parents and grandparents are buried,” as Punter defines it (263). Throughout the text, Gustavo defies the discourses that normalize masculinized nationalism, avoiding the historical myopia that ensues American exceptionalism and eluding, too, the narrow masculinity that advances cycles of war. This confrontation with the crypt offers the emancipatory potential of superseding said trauma, yet the solace that the novel provides is only partial. Ultimately, the protagonist understands the power of the crypt to distort historical memory, advance American exceptionalism, and haunt present and future generations via gender scripts and the compulsions to support (or participate in) wartime operations. Although Gustavo avoids conscription and cultivates a counter-hegemonic identity, he nonetheless begins a life in exile, suggesting the perpetuity of trauma but also the possibility of a continued resistance.
Español:
Siguiendo el crecimiento de la neo-liberalización hemisférica a comienzos de los años 1980 y la resultante integración de las economías mexicanas y estadounidenses, la frontera geopolítica entre México y Estados Unidos ha operado como símbolo potente en cuanto a la construcción de una identidad nacional por no hablar de la movilización política. Para escritores latino/as en Estados Unidos, la necesidad de abordar las disparidades sintomáticas de la frontera se ha vuelto cada vez más urgente dado el crecimiento demográfico de latino/as en Estados Unidos, además de la subsecuente antipatía hacia el pluralismo lingüístico, racial, y cultural dentro del país. Numerosos estudios han abordado la representación de los latino/as estadounidenses en la cultura popular, mientras otros han considerado cómo la ficción del mismo grupo expande las fronteras del canon estadounidense. Pocos, sin embargo, han analizado la representación de los mecanismos culturales que perpetúan un ciclo de resentimiento anti-latino/a, miopía histórica, y el resultante trauma que es a la vez personal y colectivo. El presente manuscrito responde a este vacío al analizar Names on a Map (2008) del escritor chicano Benjamin Alire Sáenz.
Tomando como su marco teórico los conceptos de la cripta, avanzada por los psicoanalistas Mária Török y Nicolas Abraham, y la masculinidad hegemónica, estudiada en detalle por la socióloga Raewyn Connell, este manuscrito propone Names on a Map rastrea un haunting personal y colectivo dentro de la familia Espejo a través del prisma del trauma transgeneracional y un nacionalismo masculinizado. El joven protagonista, Gustavo, resiste un trauma transgeneracional, entendido como “the undisclosed traumas of previous generations [which] might disturb the lives of their descendants” (Davis 374), al cultivar una identidad chicana y su correspondiente masculinidad. Ambas lo llevan a enfrentar la cripta—“an artificial unconscious,” según Abraham y Torok (159), o un “repository of the secrets of the past ... where the memories of [one’s] parents and grandparents are buried,” como la define Punter (263). A lo largo del texto, Gustavo desafía los discursos que normalizan el nacionalismo masculinizado, evitando la miopía histórica que sucede al excepcionalismo estadounidense y eludiendo también una masculinidad estrecha que ayuda a perpetuar ciclos de guerra. El enfrentamiento con la cripta ofrece una posibilidad liberadora de superar dicho trauma, pero el consuelo que nos ofrece el texto es parcial. Al final, el protagonista entiende el poder de la cripta para distorsionar la memoria histórica, avanzar el excepcionalismo estadounidense, y perseguir a presentes y futuras generaciones mediante el género y las compulsiones por apoyar (y participar en) operaciones de guerra. Aunque el propio Gustavo evita la guerra y afirma una identidad contrahegemónica, acaba viviendo en exilio, sugiriendo la perpetuidad del trauma pero también la posibilidad de una resistencia continuada.
Societal Constructions of Masculinity in Chicanx and Mexican Literature, 2021
Just as the U.S.-Mexico borderlands continue to attract scholarly attention, so too do the regio... more Just as the U.S.-Mexico borderlands continue to attract scholarly attention, so too do the region’s literary representations of masculinities in new and complex ways. Though past scholarship has typically focused attention on machismo, contemporary fiction is forcing scholars and readers alike to broaden their scope by grappling with the cultivation of new masculinities and how characters resist, or fall victim to, patriarchy and its attendant cultural appeal.
Accordingly, the present project examines two short stories from Everything Begins and Ends at the Kentucky Club (2012) by Benjamin Alire Sáenz. Combining scholarship on both masculinities and postcolonial studies, this chapter argues that the stories studied here (“He Has Gone to be With the Women” and “Sometimes the Rain”) negotiate heteronormative borderlands masculinities and their patriarchal scripts by privileging what Walter Mignolo terms “border thinking.” In both texts, the male protagonists’ counter-hegemonic performances challenge patriarchal understandings of masculinity as necessarily violent, heterosexual, and opposed to an abjected femininity. As such, the texts create a space of negotiation whereby previously marginalized masculinities take center stage, allowing the male protagonists to attempt to correct asymmetrical distributions of power and masculine capital. In the end, both stories suggest a cultural shift toward new feminist masculinities that might heal deeply rooted wounds that have jeopardized both female and male characters alike.
Key words: U.S.-Mexico borderlands, masculinities, Chicano literature
Non-Normative Sexualities in US Latinx and Latin American Literature through a Capitalism Lens, 2023
Through the prism of masculinity and coloniality studies, this book chapter examines Carmen Boull... more Through the prism of masculinity and coloniality studies, this book chapter examines Carmen Boullosa’s novel Texas: La Gran Ladronería en el Lejano Norte (2013), Opening in 1859 and taking place largely in Brownsville, Texas, in the contentious Lower Rio Grande Valley of the U.S.-Mexico borderlands, 'Texas' affixes the region’s legacy of conquest to the performance of an Anglo heteropatriarchal script, one that foregrounds capital accumulation and an exclusionary citizenship ideal as intersectional forces that promote the interests of an expanding U.S. empire and its entrepreneurial (male) actors. This operation, in turn, upholds the region’s coloniality and positions its Anglo capitalists as gatekeepers of power. A non-linear novel boasting a broad spectrum of historical figures, Texas offers what Slotkin (2005) would term a “counter-myth” (Slotkin 2005, 231) to this pernicious matrix in its portrayal of female characters and those of color, who contest the land left spearheaded by Anglo capitalists, as well as the endemic violences emanating from the sexual and gender codes that normalize and reproduce such injustices.
The Mexican folk hero Juan Nepomuceno Cortina functions as the text’s protagonist, crossing the border between Brownsville, Texas, and Matamoros, Tamaulipas, as he rallies like-minded Mexicans to contest the titular ‘great theft.’ While Boullosa chooses a contentious figure for her protagonist, she does the opposite for her antagonist, opting for a historical figure, Charles Stillman, warmly remembered in the U.S. both as the founder of Brownsville and a successful entrepreneur in the same region. Stealman (Boullosa stylizes his name accordingly, likely to emphasize his pattern of land theft) opposes Nepomuceno’s actions, justifying his business dealings and economic overreach through a masculinized logic of progress and American exceptionalism. By pitting the former (a reviled rebel with eyes toward social justice) against the latter (the proverbial standard bearer of white moneyed male interests), Boullosa stages the intersection of heterosexuality, capitalism, and an alleged Anglo (male) superiority as catalysts for the United States’ imperial machinations, compelling readers to reimagine the region’s legacy in more complicated and nefarious terms, the effects of which, the text suggests, run well into the present.
Jump Cut: A Review of Contemporary Media, 2023
A show that has consistently tackled taboos as its modus operandi, It’s Always Sunny in Philadelp... more A show that has consistently tackled taboos as its modus operandi, It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia (2005-present) compels viewers to interrogate the boundaries of gender scripts through parodies of masculine excess, homophobia, and homosociality. In contrast to many U.S. sitcoms, Sunny posits its principal male characters as incompetent, effete, laughably downtrodden, and downright pathetic. While each episode features a familiar status quo in accordance with formulaic situational comedies, its male characters (all white) engage in some of the most toxic derivatives of exaggerated masculinity without any substantive payoffs, redemptive knowledge, or moral clarity informing their character arcs. How, then, does the dearth of any redemptive male qualities intersect with Sunny’s representation of masculine scripts, and how does it push forward the cultural conversation regarding contemporary masculinities?
This article analyzes two case studies in the figures of Dennis Reynolds (portrayed by Glenn Howerton) and Mac McDonald (played by Rob McElhenney). It argues that each represents a parodic embodiment of homohysteria and heterosexual instability on the one hand (Mac), and on the other, the assumed necessity of hypersexuality and an imagined social superiority against women and non-white individuals to achieve desired masculine capital (Dennis). Ultimately, Sunny posits the endeavor toward this idealized masculinity as a self-defeating process, given to perpetual crises and failures that demonstrate the contemptibility of this shared masculine standard. As such, Sunny elevates failure and incompetence as foundational hallmarks of its characters’ white urban masculinity, contrasting longstanding expectations that fetter power and dominance to masculinity proper and deconstructing the facade of naturalness that has endowed masculinities with such power and longevity in the first place.
Cristina Rivera Garza (Matamoros, 1964) se ha convertido en una de las escritoras más reconocida... more Cristina Rivera Garza (Matamoros, 1964) se ha convertido en una de las escritoras más reconocidas y celebradas en todo Mexico. Ella ha escrito seis novelas, cinco libros de poesia, tres colecciones de cuentos, y tres libros de no ficcion. Sus obras se han traducido a muchos idiomas, y ella ha recibido muchas becas y premios a lo largo de su carrera. Entre sus muchos honores, cabe mencionar que ella es la unica escritora que ha ganado dos veces el Premio Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz: en 2001 por su novela Nadie me verá llorar (1999), y en 2009 por su novela La muerte me da (2007). Mas recientemente, ganóel Premio JoséEmilio Pacheco (2017). Estudiósociologia urbana en la Universidad Nacional Autonoma de México, y se doctoróen historia latinoamericana en la Universidad de Houston. Desde entonces, ha trabajo en varias universidades en este país, y mas recientemente fue nombrada Distinguished Professor in the Hispanic Studies Department y Director of the Ph.D. Creative Writing in Spanish Program en la Universidad de Houston. En noviembre de 2016, fue invitada a la Universidad de Kentucky, donde compartiósu presentacion “What We Can Do for Each Other: Autoethnography and Documentary Writing.” Su libro mas reciente se titula Habia mucha neblina o humo o no séque (2016). Gracias al apoyo del Department of Hispanic Studies; Latin American, Caribbean and Latino Studies (LACLS); y la Profesora Monica Díaz de la Universidad de Kentucky, la siguiente entrevista tuvo lugar el 3 de noviembre de 2016 en Lexington, Kentucky.
Polifonía Scholarly Journal, 2016
Álvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca’s 1542 account of the American Southwest has long attracted the attent... more Álvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca’s 1542 account of the American Southwest has long attracted the attention of colonialists and hispanists in general. In the 500 years since the text’s publication, scholars have approached the account from a number of theoretical and historical vantage points. Few if any, though, have analyzed how the author constructs an exemplary masculine code within his account in order to justify his prolonged absence and menial subject positions amongst various Native American tribes. By using the insights of masculinity and gender scholars including James Messerschmidt, Michael Kimmel, R.W. Connell, and Judith Butler, I argue that Núñez employs Messianic discourse and performance so as to transform his seemingly subordinate position as an outsider among the natives into a position of power against the other men present. In addition, I propose that the American Southwest functions in Naufragios as a liminal space, and that this uncharted, “in-between” zone of contact allows Núñez to alter power dynamics between himself and local Native Americans by discursively representing their men as violent and lazy in contradistinction to his own aptitude and healing abilities. An examination of how Núñez converges this Christ pastiche within a masculinist framework brings to light the ways in which local power shifts from the other men to Núñez himself--a feat that, in the end, favorably positioned the author for future New World endeavors. Key words: masculinity, performance, liminal space, U.S.-Mexico borderlands
Polifonía Scholarly Journal, 2017
In the United States, calls for border security have long held a close relationship with anti-imm... more In the United States, calls for border security have long held a close relationship with anti-immigrant sentiments and an understanding of the nation-state as bounded and monolithic. Of the United States’ southern border with Mexico this is particularly true, where questions regarding immigration, cross-border trade agreements, and human rights have garnered increased attention in recent years. Mexican writers have long grappled with the complex economic and social ties linking Mexico with its northern neighbor. While northern Mexican writers have tended to portray the border in merely physical terms, Tijuana native Luis Humberto Crosthwaite narrativizes the U.S.-Mexico border in ways that bind the geopolitical and the interpersonal. Through the lens of transnational studies, the present project explores the representation of transnational belonging and Mexican dispossession in three short stories by Crosthwaite, taken from his collection Instrucciones para cruzar la frontera (2011). This manuscript first explores historical phenomena beginning in the early 1990s that militarized the U.S.-Mexico border in spite of the increasingly transnational nature of U.S.-Mexico relations. From there, it analyzes how in three stories, Mexican characters operate as transnational actors whose mobility fosters a bifocal vision of belonging that ultimately challenges bounded notions of belonging and identity. By thematizing the hierarchies and borders (both physical and social) in transnational terms, these stories force readers to go past simple dichotomies and grapple with how these volatile relations of power condition immigrant agency and create a topography of dispossession.
Encalada Egusquiza, Yorki J.; Gooch, Catherine D.; and Martin, Joshua D. (2016) "Transnationalism... more Encalada Egusquiza, Yorki J.; Gooch, Catherine D.; and Martin, Joshua D. (2016) "Transnationalism, Xicanosmosis, and the U.S.- Mexico Border: An Interview with William Nericcio," disClosure: A Journal of Social Theory: Vol. 25, Article 20.
Available at: https://uknowledge.uky.edu/disclosure/vol25/iss1/20
EDITING by Joshua D Martin
Editorial Pliegos, 2020.
En su conjunto, este libro provee un mapa cultural/mental acerca de la relación del inconsciente ... more En su conjunto, este libro provee un mapa cultural/mental acerca de la relación del inconsciente con las estructuras sociales. Igualmente, le invita a transitar entre los siglos XX y XXI para ofrecerle una visión fresca del acontecer contemporáneo, de sus pugnas ideológicas sobre el pasado de nuestro presente. Para ello, hace análisis de la representación literaria y fílmica de momentos históricos traumáticos que, generalmente, han desencadenado procesos de introyección y duelos fallidos, resultando en una neurosis social de fantasmas que atribulan sus sociedades … ciertamente, el fantasma anticipa el fracaso del mañana, aunque, si aprendemos a conjurarlo, también en él se encierre la esperanza del hoy.
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Published Essays by Joshua D Martin
Key words: masculinity, performance, liminal space, U.S.-Mexico borderlands
Through an interdisciplinary lens combining critical discourse analysis alongside masculinity studies, I analyze in this chapter three case studies in Trump’s political discourse regarding the US-Mexico border: a rally he held in the border state of Arizona (August 2016), his final debate performance with former Secretary of State and Democratic presidential rival Hillary Clinton (October 2016), and select Twitter messages from his 2016 presidential campaign and tenure. Accordingly, I argue that Trump discursively created social and economic threats through a crisis framework, staging would-be calamities and emergencies that subsequently necessitated brazen actions from a stalwart and novel leader. As critical discourse scholars Isabela and Norman Fairclough contend, “[C]rises have a rationalizing function, the function of restoring rationality where it has been undermined” (2012, 2), thus allowing political actors to craft narratives that demand a call to action against the backdrop of social, economic, and political reforms. Masculine personas often prove critical to this operation, too, since “[i]mages of productive masculinity,” as political theory scholar James Martin notes, “supply authoritative metaphors with which audiences can easily identify” (2014, 154). In Trump’s discursive framework, the US-Mexico border functioned as a staging ground for this political operation, reflecting said crises and reinforcing qualities and actions that found their logical conclusion in Trump’s populist masculine brand. Positing status-quo political actors as effete and incompetent alongside Mexican immigrants whom he configured as invasive and criminal, Trump foregrounded a dyadic specter of feminizing liabilities that necessitated decisive masculine actions and qualities that he, by his own admission, was uniquely qualified to employ.
Just as all masculinities emerge from unique discourses, historical phenomena, and cultural frameworks, they likewise condition a consciousness of self and other, of nation and neighbor, through hierarchies of exclusion, hegemony, and belonging (Connell 2005, 71-72; Connell 1998, 5; Kimmel 1996, 44). In the examples studied here, Trump discursively leveraged animus against immigrants and seasoned politicians while glorifying a nativism that demanded a populist strongman presence in the face of impending havoc. Within this crisis framework, Trump positioned his political brand as an overdue necessity for both a return to order and, more broadly, the preservation of the republic at large. Whereas many US presidential candidates have historically championed a “strength through diversity” trope, Trump regressed into an ephemeral “greatness,” a necessarily vague concept that complemented the emotional gravitas of his populist disdain toward the political status quo and Latino non-nationals. Since populisms flourish in response to real or perceived crises, the US-Mexico border proved essential to Trump’s masculine front, as it created a symbolic terrain of threats and debilities that invited appeals to aggressive actions and novel leadership. In the end, Trump’s border language foregrounded an aspirational horizon of toughness and novelty that, in turn, ensured a continuity for a populist strongman presence that has altered US political culture. This chapter concludes by examining Trump’s 2019 national emergency declaration as a perpetuation of his crisis framework and the populist masculinity that it necessitates.
This study considers Trump's use of anti-Mexican (male) stereotypes and border imagery during his 2016 presidential campaign and how the discursive construction of Mexican immigrants continues to reify national loyalties through a binary gendered logic. Trump's tactics pit an imagined Anglo body politic against a criminally invasive brown specter, counterpoising the civic duty and law-and-order respectability of the former against the alleged malice, criminality, and sexual predation of the latter. The alleged porosity of the United States’ southern border with Mexico renders the United States a vulnerable and feminine entity in light of the “bad hombres,” to use Mr. Trump’s phrase, who were in turn configured as invasive and penetrative (that is, masculine) forces.
Trump’s use of border imagery and anti-Mexican stereotypes played a critical role throughout his campaign, delineating a moral calculus of defensive action that found its footing in hyper-masculine excess. Overdue brawn, exceptional resilience, and unfettered strength were configured as solutions in rectifying perceived social ills emanating from Mexico or beyond, and the aggressors were always configured as male actors.
Ultimately, these strategies worked to position Mr. Trump as a hyper-masculine father presence, whose dogged fortitude and perceived strength resonated with the anxieties and sympathies of his largely Anglo (male) voting bloc. This chapter nuances its analysis by reflecting on the deeply-rooted nature of these gendered anti-Mexican stereotypes throughout the twentieth-century, and how Anglo hyper-masculinity continues to operate as a safety valve to combat real or imagined social threats.
Following the rise of hemispheric neoliberalism at the beginning of the 1980s and the further integration of U.S. and Mexican economies, the geopolitical border separating the United States and Mexico has operated as a potent symbol for national identity construction, to say nothing of political mobilization. For latinx writers in the United States, the necessity to confront disparities symptomatic of the border has grown increasingly urgent given the demographic growth of Latino/as in the United States, as well as the subsequent antipathy toward linguistic, racial, and cultural pluralism within the United States. Numerous studies have addressed the representation of U.S. Latino/as in popular culture, while others have considered how fiction by U.S. Latino/a authors expands the borders of the U.S. literary canon. Few, however, have analyzed the representation of cultural mechanisms that perpetuate a cycle of anti-latino/a resentment, historical myopia, and the resultant trauma that is at once personal and collective. The present manuscript responds to this void by analyzing Names on a Map (2008) by Chicano writer, Benjamin Alire Sáenz.
Taking as its theoretical orientation the concepts of the crypt, advanced by psychoanalysts Mária Török and Nicolas Abraham, and hegemonic masculinity, studied in depth by sociologist Raewyn Connell, this manuscript proposes that Names on a Map traces a personal and collective haunting within the Espejo family through the prism of transgenerational trauma and masculinized nationalism. The young protagonist, Gustavo, resists a transgenerational trauma, understood as “the undisclosed trauma of previous generations [which] might disturb the lives of their descendants” (Davis 374), by cultivating a Chicano identity and its corresponding masculinity. Both compel him to confront the crypt, “an artificial unconscious,” according to Abraham and Torok (159), or a “repository of the secrets of the past ... where the memories of [one’s] parents and grandparents are buried,” as Punter defines it (263). Throughout the text, Gustavo defies the discourses that normalize masculinized nationalism, avoiding the historical myopia that ensues American exceptionalism and eluding, too, the narrow masculinity that advances cycles of war. This confrontation with the crypt offers the emancipatory potential of superseding said trauma, yet the solace that the novel provides is only partial. Ultimately, the protagonist understands the power of the crypt to distort historical memory, advance American exceptionalism, and haunt present and future generations via gender scripts and the compulsions to support (or participate in) wartime operations. Although Gustavo avoids conscription and cultivates a counter-hegemonic identity, he nonetheless begins a life in exile, suggesting the perpetuity of trauma but also the possibility of a continued resistance.
Español:
Siguiendo el crecimiento de la neo-liberalización hemisférica a comienzos de los años 1980 y la resultante integración de las economías mexicanas y estadounidenses, la frontera geopolítica entre México y Estados Unidos ha operado como símbolo potente en cuanto a la construcción de una identidad nacional por no hablar de la movilización política. Para escritores latino/as en Estados Unidos, la necesidad de abordar las disparidades sintomáticas de la frontera se ha vuelto cada vez más urgente dado el crecimiento demográfico de latino/as en Estados Unidos, además de la subsecuente antipatía hacia el pluralismo lingüístico, racial, y cultural dentro del país. Numerosos estudios han abordado la representación de los latino/as estadounidenses en la cultura popular, mientras otros han considerado cómo la ficción del mismo grupo expande las fronteras del canon estadounidense. Pocos, sin embargo, han analizado la representación de los mecanismos culturales que perpetúan un ciclo de resentimiento anti-latino/a, miopía histórica, y el resultante trauma que es a la vez personal y colectivo. El presente manuscrito responde a este vacío al analizar Names on a Map (2008) del escritor chicano Benjamin Alire Sáenz.
Tomando como su marco teórico los conceptos de la cripta, avanzada por los psicoanalistas Mária Török y Nicolas Abraham, y la masculinidad hegemónica, estudiada en detalle por la socióloga Raewyn Connell, este manuscrito propone Names on a Map rastrea un haunting personal y colectivo dentro de la familia Espejo a través del prisma del trauma transgeneracional y un nacionalismo masculinizado. El joven protagonista, Gustavo, resiste un trauma transgeneracional, entendido como “the undisclosed traumas of previous generations [which] might disturb the lives of their descendants” (Davis 374), al cultivar una identidad chicana y su correspondiente masculinidad. Ambas lo llevan a enfrentar la cripta—“an artificial unconscious,” según Abraham y Torok (159), o un “repository of the secrets of the past ... where the memories of [one’s] parents and grandparents are buried,” como la define Punter (263). A lo largo del texto, Gustavo desafía los discursos que normalizan el nacionalismo masculinizado, evitando la miopía histórica que sucede al excepcionalismo estadounidense y eludiendo también una masculinidad estrecha que ayuda a perpetuar ciclos de guerra. El enfrentamiento con la cripta ofrece una posibilidad liberadora de superar dicho trauma, pero el consuelo que nos ofrece el texto es parcial. Al final, el protagonista entiende el poder de la cripta para distorsionar la memoria histórica, avanzar el excepcionalismo estadounidense, y perseguir a presentes y futuras generaciones mediante el género y las compulsiones por apoyar (y participar en) operaciones de guerra. Aunque el propio Gustavo evita la guerra y afirma una identidad contrahegemónica, acaba viviendo en exilio, sugiriendo la perpetuidad del trauma pero también la posibilidad de una resistencia continuada.
Accordingly, the present project examines two short stories from Everything Begins and Ends at the Kentucky Club (2012) by Benjamin Alire Sáenz. Combining scholarship on both masculinities and postcolonial studies, this chapter argues that the stories studied here (“He Has Gone to be With the Women” and “Sometimes the Rain”) negotiate heteronormative borderlands masculinities and their patriarchal scripts by privileging what Walter Mignolo terms “border thinking.” In both texts, the male protagonists’ counter-hegemonic performances challenge patriarchal understandings of masculinity as necessarily violent, heterosexual, and opposed to an abjected femininity. As such, the texts create a space of negotiation whereby previously marginalized masculinities take center stage, allowing the male protagonists to attempt to correct asymmetrical distributions of power and masculine capital. In the end, both stories suggest a cultural shift toward new feminist masculinities that might heal deeply rooted wounds that have jeopardized both female and male characters alike.
Key words: U.S.-Mexico borderlands, masculinities, Chicano literature
The Mexican folk hero Juan Nepomuceno Cortina functions as the text’s protagonist, crossing the border between Brownsville, Texas, and Matamoros, Tamaulipas, as he rallies like-minded Mexicans to contest the titular ‘great theft.’ While Boullosa chooses a contentious figure for her protagonist, she does the opposite for her antagonist, opting for a historical figure, Charles Stillman, warmly remembered in the U.S. both as the founder of Brownsville and a successful entrepreneur in the same region. Stealman (Boullosa stylizes his name accordingly, likely to emphasize his pattern of land theft) opposes Nepomuceno’s actions, justifying his business dealings and economic overreach through a masculinized logic of progress and American exceptionalism. By pitting the former (a reviled rebel with eyes toward social justice) against the latter (the proverbial standard bearer of white moneyed male interests), Boullosa stages the intersection of heterosexuality, capitalism, and an alleged Anglo (male) superiority as catalysts for the United States’ imperial machinations, compelling readers to reimagine the region’s legacy in more complicated and nefarious terms, the effects of which, the text suggests, run well into the present.
This article analyzes two case studies in the figures of Dennis Reynolds (portrayed by Glenn Howerton) and Mac McDonald (played by Rob McElhenney). It argues that each represents a parodic embodiment of homohysteria and heterosexual instability on the one hand (Mac), and on the other, the assumed necessity of hypersexuality and an imagined social superiority against women and non-white individuals to achieve desired masculine capital (Dennis). Ultimately, Sunny posits the endeavor toward this idealized masculinity as a self-defeating process, given to perpetual crises and failures that demonstrate the contemptibility of this shared masculine standard. As such, Sunny elevates failure and incompetence as foundational hallmarks of its characters’ white urban masculinity, contrasting longstanding expectations that fetter power and dominance to masculinity proper and deconstructing the facade of naturalness that has endowed masculinities with such power and longevity in the first place.
Available at: https://uknowledge.uky.edu/disclosure/vol25/iss1/20
EDITING by Joshua D Martin
Key words: masculinity, performance, liminal space, U.S.-Mexico borderlands
Through an interdisciplinary lens combining critical discourse analysis alongside masculinity studies, I analyze in this chapter three case studies in Trump’s political discourse regarding the US-Mexico border: a rally he held in the border state of Arizona (August 2016), his final debate performance with former Secretary of State and Democratic presidential rival Hillary Clinton (October 2016), and select Twitter messages from his 2016 presidential campaign and tenure. Accordingly, I argue that Trump discursively created social and economic threats through a crisis framework, staging would-be calamities and emergencies that subsequently necessitated brazen actions from a stalwart and novel leader. As critical discourse scholars Isabela and Norman Fairclough contend, “[C]rises have a rationalizing function, the function of restoring rationality where it has been undermined” (2012, 2), thus allowing political actors to craft narratives that demand a call to action against the backdrop of social, economic, and political reforms. Masculine personas often prove critical to this operation, too, since “[i]mages of productive masculinity,” as political theory scholar James Martin notes, “supply authoritative metaphors with which audiences can easily identify” (2014, 154). In Trump’s discursive framework, the US-Mexico border functioned as a staging ground for this political operation, reflecting said crises and reinforcing qualities and actions that found their logical conclusion in Trump’s populist masculine brand. Positing status-quo political actors as effete and incompetent alongside Mexican immigrants whom he configured as invasive and criminal, Trump foregrounded a dyadic specter of feminizing liabilities that necessitated decisive masculine actions and qualities that he, by his own admission, was uniquely qualified to employ.
Just as all masculinities emerge from unique discourses, historical phenomena, and cultural frameworks, they likewise condition a consciousness of self and other, of nation and neighbor, through hierarchies of exclusion, hegemony, and belonging (Connell 2005, 71-72; Connell 1998, 5; Kimmel 1996, 44). In the examples studied here, Trump discursively leveraged animus against immigrants and seasoned politicians while glorifying a nativism that demanded a populist strongman presence in the face of impending havoc. Within this crisis framework, Trump positioned his political brand as an overdue necessity for both a return to order and, more broadly, the preservation of the republic at large. Whereas many US presidential candidates have historically championed a “strength through diversity” trope, Trump regressed into an ephemeral “greatness,” a necessarily vague concept that complemented the emotional gravitas of his populist disdain toward the political status quo and Latino non-nationals. Since populisms flourish in response to real or perceived crises, the US-Mexico border proved essential to Trump’s masculine front, as it created a symbolic terrain of threats and debilities that invited appeals to aggressive actions and novel leadership. In the end, Trump’s border language foregrounded an aspirational horizon of toughness and novelty that, in turn, ensured a continuity for a populist strongman presence that has altered US political culture. This chapter concludes by examining Trump’s 2019 national emergency declaration as a perpetuation of his crisis framework and the populist masculinity that it necessitates.
This study considers Trump's use of anti-Mexican (male) stereotypes and border imagery during his 2016 presidential campaign and how the discursive construction of Mexican immigrants continues to reify national loyalties through a binary gendered logic. Trump's tactics pit an imagined Anglo body politic against a criminally invasive brown specter, counterpoising the civic duty and law-and-order respectability of the former against the alleged malice, criminality, and sexual predation of the latter. The alleged porosity of the United States’ southern border with Mexico renders the United States a vulnerable and feminine entity in light of the “bad hombres,” to use Mr. Trump’s phrase, who were in turn configured as invasive and penetrative (that is, masculine) forces.
Trump’s use of border imagery and anti-Mexican stereotypes played a critical role throughout his campaign, delineating a moral calculus of defensive action that found its footing in hyper-masculine excess. Overdue brawn, exceptional resilience, and unfettered strength were configured as solutions in rectifying perceived social ills emanating from Mexico or beyond, and the aggressors were always configured as male actors.
Ultimately, these strategies worked to position Mr. Trump as a hyper-masculine father presence, whose dogged fortitude and perceived strength resonated with the anxieties and sympathies of his largely Anglo (male) voting bloc. This chapter nuances its analysis by reflecting on the deeply-rooted nature of these gendered anti-Mexican stereotypes throughout the twentieth-century, and how Anglo hyper-masculinity continues to operate as a safety valve to combat real or imagined social threats.
Following the rise of hemispheric neoliberalism at the beginning of the 1980s and the further integration of U.S. and Mexican economies, the geopolitical border separating the United States and Mexico has operated as a potent symbol for national identity construction, to say nothing of political mobilization. For latinx writers in the United States, the necessity to confront disparities symptomatic of the border has grown increasingly urgent given the demographic growth of Latino/as in the United States, as well as the subsequent antipathy toward linguistic, racial, and cultural pluralism within the United States. Numerous studies have addressed the representation of U.S. Latino/as in popular culture, while others have considered how fiction by U.S. Latino/a authors expands the borders of the U.S. literary canon. Few, however, have analyzed the representation of cultural mechanisms that perpetuate a cycle of anti-latino/a resentment, historical myopia, and the resultant trauma that is at once personal and collective. The present manuscript responds to this void by analyzing Names on a Map (2008) by Chicano writer, Benjamin Alire Sáenz.
Taking as its theoretical orientation the concepts of the crypt, advanced by psychoanalysts Mária Török and Nicolas Abraham, and hegemonic masculinity, studied in depth by sociologist Raewyn Connell, this manuscript proposes that Names on a Map traces a personal and collective haunting within the Espejo family through the prism of transgenerational trauma and masculinized nationalism. The young protagonist, Gustavo, resists a transgenerational trauma, understood as “the undisclosed trauma of previous generations [which] might disturb the lives of their descendants” (Davis 374), by cultivating a Chicano identity and its corresponding masculinity. Both compel him to confront the crypt, “an artificial unconscious,” according to Abraham and Torok (159), or a “repository of the secrets of the past ... where the memories of [one’s] parents and grandparents are buried,” as Punter defines it (263). Throughout the text, Gustavo defies the discourses that normalize masculinized nationalism, avoiding the historical myopia that ensues American exceptionalism and eluding, too, the narrow masculinity that advances cycles of war. This confrontation with the crypt offers the emancipatory potential of superseding said trauma, yet the solace that the novel provides is only partial. Ultimately, the protagonist understands the power of the crypt to distort historical memory, advance American exceptionalism, and haunt present and future generations via gender scripts and the compulsions to support (or participate in) wartime operations. Although Gustavo avoids conscription and cultivates a counter-hegemonic identity, he nonetheless begins a life in exile, suggesting the perpetuity of trauma but also the possibility of a continued resistance.
Español:
Siguiendo el crecimiento de la neo-liberalización hemisférica a comienzos de los años 1980 y la resultante integración de las economías mexicanas y estadounidenses, la frontera geopolítica entre México y Estados Unidos ha operado como símbolo potente en cuanto a la construcción de una identidad nacional por no hablar de la movilización política. Para escritores latino/as en Estados Unidos, la necesidad de abordar las disparidades sintomáticas de la frontera se ha vuelto cada vez más urgente dado el crecimiento demográfico de latino/as en Estados Unidos, además de la subsecuente antipatía hacia el pluralismo lingüístico, racial, y cultural dentro del país. Numerosos estudios han abordado la representación de los latino/as estadounidenses en la cultura popular, mientras otros han considerado cómo la ficción del mismo grupo expande las fronteras del canon estadounidense. Pocos, sin embargo, han analizado la representación de los mecanismos culturales que perpetúan un ciclo de resentimiento anti-latino/a, miopía histórica, y el resultante trauma que es a la vez personal y colectivo. El presente manuscrito responde a este vacío al analizar Names on a Map (2008) del escritor chicano Benjamin Alire Sáenz.
Tomando como su marco teórico los conceptos de la cripta, avanzada por los psicoanalistas Mária Török y Nicolas Abraham, y la masculinidad hegemónica, estudiada en detalle por la socióloga Raewyn Connell, este manuscrito propone Names on a Map rastrea un haunting personal y colectivo dentro de la familia Espejo a través del prisma del trauma transgeneracional y un nacionalismo masculinizado. El joven protagonista, Gustavo, resiste un trauma transgeneracional, entendido como “the undisclosed traumas of previous generations [which] might disturb the lives of their descendants” (Davis 374), al cultivar una identidad chicana y su correspondiente masculinidad. Ambas lo llevan a enfrentar la cripta—“an artificial unconscious,” según Abraham y Torok (159), o un “repository of the secrets of the past ... where the memories of [one’s] parents and grandparents are buried,” como la define Punter (263). A lo largo del texto, Gustavo desafía los discursos que normalizan el nacionalismo masculinizado, evitando la miopía histórica que sucede al excepcionalismo estadounidense y eludiendo también una masculinidad estrecha que ayuda a perpetuar ciclos de guerra. El enfrentamiento con la cripta ofrece una posibilidad liberadora de superar dicho trauma, pero el consuelo que nos ofrece el texto es parcial. Al final, el protagonista entiende el poder de la cripta para distorsionar la memoria histórica, avanzar el excepcionalismo estadounidense, y perseguir a presentes y futuras generaciones mediante el género y las compulsiones por apoyar (y participar en) operaciones de guerra. Aunque el propio Gustavo evita la guerra y afirma una identidad contrahegemónica, acaba viviendo en exilio, sugiriendo la perpetuidad del trauma pero también la posibilidad de una resistencia continuada.
Accordingly, the present project examines two short stories from Everything Begins and Ends at the Kentucky Club (2012) by Benjamin Alire Sáenz. Combining scholarship on both masculinities and postcolonial studies, this chapter argues that the stories studied here (“He Has Gone to be With the Women” and “Sometimes the Rain”) negotiate heteronormative borderlands masculinities and their patriarchal scripts by privileging what Walter Mignolo terms “border thinking.” In both texts, the male protagonists’ counter-hegemonic performances challenge patriarchal understandings of masculinity as necessarily violent, heterosexual, and opposed to an abjected femininity. As such, the texts create a space of negotiation whereby previously marginalized masculinities take center stage, allowing the male protagonists to attempt to correct asymmetrical distributions of power and masculine capital. In the end, both stories suggest a cultural shift toward new feminist masculinities that might heal deeply rooted wounds that have jeopardized both female and male characters alike.
Key words: U.S.-Mexico borderlands, masculinities, Chicano literature
The Mexican folk hero Juan Nepomuceno Cortina functions as the text’s protagonist, crossing the border between Brownsville, Texas, and Matamoros, Tamaulipas, as he rallies like-minded Mexicans to contest the titular ‘great theft.’ While Boullosa chooses a contentious figure for her protagonist, she does the opposite for her antagonist, opting for a historical figure, Charles Stillman, warmly remembered in the U.S. both as the founder of Brownsville and a successful entrepreneur in the same region. Stealman (Boullosa stylizes his name accordingly, likely to emphasize his pattern of land theft) opposes Nepomuceno’s actions, justifying his business dealings and economic overreach through a masculinized logic of progress and American exceptionalism. By pitting the former (a reviled rebel with eyes toward social justice) against the latter (the proverbial standard bearer of white moneyed male interests), Boullosa stages the intersection of heterosexuality, capitalism, and an alleged Anglo (male) superiority as catalysts for the United States’ imperial machinations, compelling readers to reimagine the region’s legacy in more complicated and nefarious terms, the effects of which, the text suggests, run well into the present.
This article analyzes two case studies in the figures of Dennis Reynolds (portrayed by Glenn Howerton) and Mac McDonald (played by Rob McElhenney). It argues that each represents a parodic embodiment of homohysteria and heterosexual instability on the one hand (Mac), and on the other, the assumed necessity of hypersexuality and an imagined social superiority against women and non-white individuals to achieve desired masculine capital (Dennis). Ultimately, Sunny posits the endeavor toward this idealized masculinity as a self-defeating process, given to perpetual crises and failures that demonstrate the contemptibility of this shared masculine standard. As such, Sunny elevates failure and incompetence as foundational hallmarks of its characters’ white urban masculinity, contrasting longstanding expectations that fetter power and dominance to masculinity proper and deconstructing the facade of naturalness that has endowed masculinities with such power and longevity in the first place.
Available at: https://uknowledge.uky.edu/disclosure/vol25/iss1/20