Feeding Fascism: The Politics of Women’s Food Work by Diana Garvin (review)

Fabio Parasecoli
{"title":"Feeding Fascism: The Politics of Women’s Food Work by Diana Garvin (review)","authors":"Fabio Parasecoli","doi":"10.1353/mln.2023.a910971","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"Reviewed by: Feeding Fascism: The Politics of Women’s Food Work by Diana Garvin Fabio Parasecoli Diana Garvin. Feeding Fascism: The Politics of Women’s Food Work (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2022), utorontopress.com/9781487528195/feeding-fascism, xvi+276 pages Vittorio De Sica’s 1948 Ladri di biciclette (Bicycle Thieves) marked world cinema with its raw representations of poverty in Italy following World War II. Faithful to its neorealist tenets, the filmmaker used food, from homemade frittata sandwiches to mozzarella in carrozza (fried mozzarella), to comment politically on the working-class Italians’ hopes and despairs after Fascism. While food predominates the narration of the film, its images of domestic kitchens also [End Page 220] provide ample information about the material lives of the protagonists, their poverty and their will to survive. Maybe less memorable than the famous scene where father and son share a meal to the notes of Tammurriata nera (Black Drumsong) in the Roman trattoria, stoves, pans and cooking utensils offer a more granular and lifelike sense of contemporaneous reality. Fascism had fallen but the material world it had built for Italians was all they had. Nearly thirty years later, Ettore Scola’s 1977 film, Una giornata particolare (A Special Day), returns viewers to that reality, to the apartments in the projects built by Mussolini in Rome and other large Italian cities. Though our attention is focused on the interactions between a housewife and her gay neighbor—played by Sofia Loren and Marcello Mastroianni—we are also shown interiors where they interact with objects, fixtures and furnishings that organize the fabric of their experiences. While the rest of the neighborhood is away at a state parade, the two characters can finally live and express themselves in an environment where the woman would otherwise be ignored and the gay man ostracized. Reading Diana Garvin’s analysis of other historical artifacts in Feeding Fascism: The Politics of Women’s Food Work may recall these films that draw our attention to kitchens as places of not only toil and duty but also negotiation with—and, at times, of direct resistance to—the powers ruling everything, from the head of the family to the government. Like the films, Garvin’s work announces that the comprehensibility of the feelings, stories and struggles from those kitchens can only be partial without understanding their physical, tangible, tactile features. In the afterword, Garvin invites future researchers to consider “the power of the small”: To get at the feel of women’s experiences of Fascism, we need to rummage through the dented cheese graters, crumpled chocolate wrappers, and scratched matchbooks that they touched every day. […] [P]ropaganda travels not through textual dictates but through material details. These meanings are so subtle, yet so ubiquitous, that even the designers themselves may be unaware of their presence.1 Garvin’s research showcases the material world that supported culinary practices and the discursive elements that surrounded and shaped them. Garvin constantly reminds us that the protagonists of these dynamics, even when they were barely acknowledged or nearly stripped of visibility, were women. “They are actors, interpreters, and critics”, she aptly observes: they accept, modify, and reject. Buildings, texts, and objects do not exist in a vacuum: they are processes of signification materialized by women’s use of them. […] The power of an individual may not be equal to that of the state, but even small choices create moments of independence. Even the smallest assertion of will constitutes a form of power.2 [End Page 221] Reflections like these that thread the volume echo Michel De Certeau on the tactics used by the seemingly powerless to resist those in power. Resistance thus proves a valuable index for research on a totalitarian regime determined to control every aspect of its citizens’ lives, particularly for investigations into women’s reactions to propaganda, into governmental attempts to control both food production and family feeding and breastfeeding practices and even into the identification of food as an expression of nationalistic strength. Garvin’s approach builds on theories and methodology from gender studies, food studies and material culture studies. Each of her five chapters adopts a unique focus—first, the Battle for Grain and the...","PeriodicalId":82037,"journal":{"name":"Modern language notes","volume":"30 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0000,"publicationDate":"2023-01-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"0","resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":null,"PeriodicalName":"Modern language notes","FirstCategoryId":"1085","ListUrlMain":"https://doi.org/10.1353/mln.2023.a910971","RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":null,"ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":null,"EPubDate":"","PubModel":"","JCR":"","JCRName":"","Score":null,"Total":0}
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Abstract

Reviewed by: Feeding Fascism: The Politics of Women’s Food Work by Diana Garvin Fabio Parasecoli Diana Garvin. Feeding Fascism: The Politics of Women’s Food Work (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2022), utorontopress.com/9781487528195/feeding-fascism, xvi+276 pages Vittorio De Sica’s 1948 Ladri di biciclette (Bicycle Thieves) marked world cinema with its raw representations of poverty in Italy following World War II. Faithful to its neorealist tenets, the filmmaker used food, from homemade frittata sandwiches to mozzarella in carrozza (fried mozzarella), to comment politically on the working-class Italians’ hopes and despairs after Fascism. While food predominates the narration of the film, its images of domestic kitchens also [End Page 220] provide ample information about the material lives of the protagonists, their poverty and their will to survive. Maybe less memorable than the famous scene where father and son share a meal to the notes of Tammurriata nera (Black Drumsong) in the Roman trattoria, stoves, pans and cooking utensils offer a more granular and lifelike sense of contemporaneous reality. Fascism had fallen but the material world it had built for Italians was all they had. Nearly thirty years later, Ettore Scola’s 1977 film, Una giornata particolare (A Special Day), returns viewers to that reality, to the apartments in the projects built by Mussolini in Rome and other large Italian cities. Though our attention is focused on the interactions between a housewife and her gay neighbor—played by Sofia Loren and Marcello Mastroianni—we are also shown interiors where they interact with objects, fixtures and furnishings that organize the fabric of their experiences. While the rest of the neighborhood is away at a state parade, the two characters can finally live and express themselves in an environment where the woman would otherwise be ignored and the gay man ostracized. Reading Diana Garvin’s analysis of other historical artifacts in Feeding Fascism: The Politics of Women’s Food Work may recall these films that draw our attention to kitchens as places of not only toil and duty but also negotiation with—and, at times, of direct resistance to—the powers ruling everything, from the head of the family to the government. Like the films, Garvin’s work announces that the comprehensibility of the feelings, stories and struggles from those kitchens can only be partial without understanding their physical, tangible, tactile features. In the afterword, Garvin invites future researchers to consider “the power of the small”: To get at the feel of women’s experiences of Fascism, we need to rummage through the dented cheese graters, crumpled chocolate wrappers, and scratched matchbooks that they touched every day. […] [P]ropaganda travels not through textual dictates but through material details. These meanings are so subtle, yet so ubiquitous, that even the designers themselves may be unaware of their presence.1 Garvin’s research showcases the material world that supported culinary practices and the discursive elements that surrounded and shaped them. Garvin constantly reminds us that the protagonists of these dynamics, even when they were barely acknowledged or nearly stripped of visibility, were women. “They are actors, interpreters, and critics”, she aptly observes: they accept, modify, and reject. Buildings, texts, and objects do not exist in a vacuum: they are processes of signification materialized by women’s use of them. […] The power of an individual may not be equal to that of the state, but even small choices create moments of independence. Even the smallest assertion of will constitutes a form of power.2 [End Page 221] Reflections like these that thread the volume echo Michel De Certeau on the tactics used by the seemingly powerless to resist those in power. Resistance thus proves a valuable index for research on a totalitarian regime determined to control every aspect of its citizens’ lives, particularly for investigations into women’s reactions to propaganda, into governmental attempts to control both food production and family feeding and breastfeeding practices and even into the identification of food as an expression of nationalistic strength. Garvin’s approach builds on theories and methodology from gender studies, food studies and material culture studies. Each of her five chapters adopts a unique focus—first, the Battle for Grain and the...
《喂养法西斯主义:女性食品工作的政治》作者:戴安娜·加文(书评)
书评:《喂养法西斯主义:女性食品工作的政治》作者:戴安娜·加文《为法西斯主义提供食物:妇女食品工作的政治》(多伦多:多伦多大学出版社,2022),utorontopress.com/9781487528195/feeding-fascism, xvi+276页。维托里奥·德·西卡1948年的《偷自行车的人》以其对二战后意大利贫困的原始表现标志着世界电影界。这部电影忠实于新现实主义的原则,用食物,从自制的煎蛋饼三明治到油炸马苏里拉奶酪,从政治上评论法西斯主义后意大利工人阶级的希望和绝望。虽然食物主导了电影的叙事,但它对家庭厨房的描绘也为主人公的物质生活、贫困和生存意愿提供了充足的信息。也许没有那个著名的场景那么令人难忘,那就是在罗马小餐馆里,父亲和儿子在Tammurriata nera(黑色鼓声)的音符中分享一顿饭,炉子、平底锅和炊具提供了一种更细致、更逼真的当代现实感。法西斯主义垮台了,但它为意大利人建立的物质世界是他们所拥有的一切。近30年后,埃托雷·斯科拉(Ettore Scola) 1977年的电影《特殊的一天》(Una giornata particolare)将观众带回到那个现实,回到墨索里尼在罗马和其他意大利大城市建造的公寓项目中。虽然我们的注意力集中在一个家庭主妇和她的同性恋邻居(由索菲亚·罗兰和马塞洛·马斯特罗安尼饰演)之间的互动上,但我们也看到了他们与物品、固定装置和家具互动的室内空间,这些物品和家具组织了他们的经历。当其他邻居都去参加州阅兵时,这两个角色终于可以在一个环境中生活和表达自己,否则女人会被忽视,同性恋男人会被排斥。阅读戴安娜·加文(Diana Garvin)在《为法西斯主义提供食物:女性食品工作的政治》(Feeding Fascism: The Politics of Women’s Food Work)中对其他历史文物的分析,可能会让我们想起这些电影,它们让我们注意到厨房不仅是辛劳和责任的地方,也是与从一家之主到政府等统治一切的权力进行谈判——有时甚至是直接抵抗的地方。就像电影一样,加文的作品表明,如果不了解这些厨房的物理、有形和触觉特征,对这些感觉、故事和挣扎的理解只能是部分的。在后记中,加文邀请未来的研究人员考虑“微小的力量”:为了了解女性对法西斯主义的感受,我们需要翻找她们每天接触的凹陷的奶酪磨碎器、皱巴巴的巧克力包装纸和刮伤的火柴盒。[P]ropaganda不是通过文字指令,而是通过材料细节传播。这些意义是如此微妙,却又无处不在,甚至设计师自己可能都没有意识到它们的存在加文的研究展示了支持烹饪实践的物质世界,以及围绕和塑造它们的话语元素。加文不断地提醒我们,这些动态的主角是女性,即使他们几乎不被承认或几乎被剥夺了能见度。“他们是演员、诠释者和评论家”,她恰如其分地指出:他们接受、修改、拒绝。建筑、文本和物体并非存在于真空中:它们是女性对它们的使用所物化的意义过程。[…]个人的权力可能不等于国家的权力,但即使是很小的选择也会创造独立的时刻。即使是最小的意志主张也构成一种力量。像这样贯穿全书的思考呼应了米歇尔·德·塞托对看似无能为力的人用来抵抗当权者的策略的思考。因此,对于研究一个决心控制其公民生活的方方面面的极权主义政权,特别是调查妇女对宣传的反应,调查政府试图控制食品生产和家庭喂养和母乳喂养的做法,甚至将食品视为民族主义力量的一种表现,抵抗被证明是一个有价值的指标。加文的研究方法建立在性别研究、食物研究和物质文化研究的理论和方法之上。她的五章中的每一章都有一个独特的焦点——首先,粮食之战和……
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