This paper examines the depiction of gender in Mark Ravenhill's play The Cut. Special emphasis is hereby placed on the aspect of "toxic masculinity" - a topic which has not lost its relevance since its first definition in the 1980s. Toxic masculinity and patriarchal dystopian systems are closely intertwined and have for some time found their place in feminist dystopian narratives such as The Handsmaid Tale by Margaret Atwood, Octavia Butler's Wild Seed or Vox by Christina Dalcher. At first glance, Marc Ravenhill's The Cut fits into this list only in terms of the dystopian moment. However, upon closer inspection, his play, which focuses almost exclusively on the male characters, also reveals the effects of patriarchal cultures and toxic masculinity on both the female and, in particular, the male members of society. Nevertheless, the aspect of gender and especially toxic masculinity has not yet been dealt with in the context of Ravenhill's work. Merle Tönnies, for example, concentrated primarily on the aspect of the immobility of power in her detailed analysis of The Cut, while Robert Kielawski placed his focus on "the reinvention of utopia revolution and the big Other in decline" (Kielawski) - the aspect of gender inequality, however, did not seem to play a role for either of them. Furthermore, neither the critics, nor Ravenhill himself addressed the topic.
In order to fill this gap, the present work will analyse The Cut based on the thesis that Marc Ravenhill's The Cut represents a patriarchal dystopia whose members suffer from the effects of toxic masculinity. In the course of this paper Marc Ravenhill and The Cut will be briefly introduced, followed by a theoretical background on gender in dystopian fiction in general and toxic masculinity in particular, and finally the depiction of gender and toxic masculinity in The Cut. In order to be able to undertake an analysis that is as detailed as possible, despite the limited scope of this work, Chapter 4 will focus primarily on the main character of the play, Paul, in order to highlight the aspects of toxic masculinity. However, this should not lead to the assumption that not all other characters would also show similar symptoms.
Table of Content
1. Introduction
2. Mark Ravenhill's The Cut
3. Theoretical Background
3.1. Gender in Dystopian Fiction
3.2. Toxic Masculinity
4. The Depiction of Gender in The Cut
4.1. Aspects of Toxic Masculinity in The Cut
5. Conclusion
Works Cited
1. Introduction
This paper examines the depiction of gender in Mark Ravenhill's play The Cut. Special emphasis is hereby placed on the aspect of "toxic masculinity" - a topic which has not lost its relevance since its first definition in the 1980s. Toxic masculinity and patriarchal dystopian systems are closely intertwined and have for some time found their place in feminist dystopian narratives such as The Handsmaid Tale by Margaret Atwood, Octavia Butler's Wild Seed or Vox by Christina Dalcher. At first glance, Marc Ravenhill's The Cut fits into this list only in terms of the dystopian moment. However, upon closer inspection, his play, which focuses almost exclusively on the male characters, also reveals the effects of patriarchal cultures and toxic masculinity on both the female and, in particular, the male members of society. Nevertheless, the aspect of gender and especially toxic masculinity has not yet been dealt with in the context of Ravenhill's work. Merle Tönnies, for example, concentrated primarily on the aspect of the immobility of power in her detailed analysis of The Cut, while Robert Kielawski placed his focus on "the reinvention of utopia revolution and the big Other in decline"(Kielawski 25) - the aspect of gender inequality, however, did not seem to play a role for either of them. Furthermore, neither the critics, nor Ravenhill himself addressed the topic. In order to fill this gap, the present work will analyse The Cut based on the thesis that Marc Ravenhill's The Cut represents a patriarchal dystopia whose members suffer from the effects of toxic masculinity. In the course of this paper Marc Ravenhill and The Cut will be briefly introduced, followed by a theoretical background on gender in dystopian fiction in general and toxic masculinity in particular, and finally the depiction of gender and toxic masculinity in The Cut. In order to be able to undertake an analysis that is as detailed as possible, despite the limited scope of this work, Chapter 4 will focus primarily on the main character of the play, Paul, in order to highlight the aspects of toxic masculinity. However, this should not lead to the assumption that not all other characters would also show similar symptoms.
2. Mark Ravenhill's The Cut
Mark Ravenhill, born in 1966, is a well-known British playwright, actor and journalist. The author of plays such as Shopping and Fucking (1996), Some Explicit Polaroids (1999) and Mother Clap's Molly House (2000), is, along with Sarah Kane and Anthony Neilson, one of the most important playwrights of the 90s In-Yer-Face Theatre - “An avant-garde that explored theatrical possibility, they pioneered a new aesthetic - more blatant, aggressive and confrontational - that opened up new possibilities for British drama” (Sierz 2). Ravenhill, himself openly homosexual, has often paid particular attention to the issues of gender, homosexuality and destabilized masculinity (Grassi 187).
Mark Ravenhill's The Cut premiered in 2006 at the Donmar Warehouse, London, is a three-act, 90minute play which deals, on the one hand, with state brutality and, on the other, with the individual's inner struggle in a dystopian society. In The Cut, the life of Paul, a surgeon, played by Sir Ian McKellen, is portrayed - both professionally and privately. In an indefinite time, in an indefinite place, he works for an indefinite, new regime by executing the indefinite "cut". Until the end of the piece, one does not find out what “the cut” is about, one only gets a hunch: it is an apparently traditional, definitely painful and obviously irreversible procedure - in Michael Grandage's production characterized by glaring red light and bloodstained gloves after "the cut". As the play unfolds, it also becomes evident that there has been what appears to be a change of regime and that although the procedure is carried out by government officials like Paul in a more humane manner than under the last regime, the population is becoming increasingly hostile to "the cut". Paul himself also seems to be dismissive of the procedure and thus of his work - so much so that he even keeps his wife Susan in the dark about his activities. His double life, torturer during the day and family man in the evening, is a burden for Paul in his professional as well as in his private life.
In Act I, Paul is confronted with a young man named John, who begs him to perform “the cut” on him. Paul for his part tries his best to convince the young man to choose an alternative, such as prison or university - both institutions seem to have a different function in this dystopia than the one we know. Paul's inner struggle becomes apparent in this Act, when he, in a grotesquely ridiculous situation, begs his "victim" to shoot him, the torturer, in order to free him from the burden of his profession, before he, with the help of his mousy and mute assistant Gida, finally reluctantly carries out “the cut”.
How strongly his inner struggle with his conscience also affects his private life and thus his marriage becomes apparent in Act II. During an awkward dinner with his wife Susan, played by Deborah Findlay, in which the two continuously talk past each other, it becomes clear how much the spouses have already become estranged - they live in a love- and sexless relationship in which Susan, despite Paul's secrecy, seems to have at least a suspicion of the way Paul earns his money. While the dysfunctional conversation at the dinner table finds its climax in a crying and screaming outburst of rage on Paul's part, Susan seems to be primarily interested in the wrong doings of their maid Mina, disinterested in Paul's feelings and later on disgusted by the display of her husband's effeminate emotions. As fast as Paul's outburst appears, it ends and he assures himself and his wife that he, "at the end of the day" is "a good man" after all, who just does his best to protect his family (223).
In the third and last Act, Paul meets his dry and somewhat idealistic son Stephen, played by Tom Burke. In the meantime, there seems to have been another change of regime, and Stephen is no longer at university as before, but seems to have a fairly high position in the new, supposedly better government. Paul, on the other hand, now finds himself in prison because of his activities under the old government, and his wife has lost her comfortable position in society - even though the "tribunal" has acquitted her. Despite the rejection of his father and his former activities, Stephen offers Paul to help him to improve his conditions in prison - however, a release is apparently out of question for him: "There is evil. And you are evil. (...) You are my father and you are evil." (229), Stephen argues and leaves his father with the words: "That's not personal." To which Paul, who seems to have come to terms with the fact that there is a new lot, replies, "It's alright." ( 229).
The reviews for Ravenhill's play were pretty mixed. The critics praised first and foremost the "superb performance" by Sir Ian McKellen,1 but expressed disappointment with the "soft-edged, vague and obscure"2 nature of the piece. Sarah Hemming for The Financial Times concluded that "ultimately the play loses power by being so unspecific."3 Similarly, Michael Billington for The Guardian: "Its weakness is that we never know what “the cut” stands for: it is a vague symbol that could apply to any regime - communist or fascist, secular or theocratic - prizing social conformity above individual freedom.”4 Likewise, Charles Spencer for The Daily Telegraph resumed, "I found the play's refusal to reveal its hand tiresome."5 Especially in comparison to earlier works by Ravenhill, such as Shopping and Fucking and Some Explicit Polaroids, The Cut would only take up already known ideas and show the audience more of what "Ravenhill has been reading, rather than actually experiencing."6 It's interesting that not a single critic has taken up the aspect of gender portrayal in The Cut, although the conflicts, both between the sexes and within the characters, are obvious. Even if the actual number of both sexes is balanced, the relevance and also the speaking proportions are by no means - a fact that is hardly coincidental. Even though Ravenhill himself never spoke about his choice of characters in this respect, and, as in earlier plays, seems to focus more on the dysfunctional relationship between father and son (Shopping and Fucking, 1996; Handbag, 1998), the imbalance of the characters, as well as their interactions and individual behaviour, can be found in many works of dystopian fiction. The potential for feminist dystopia in The Cut becomes particularly clear in the reproduction "The Cut by Mark Ravenhill - Gender Flipped" by Katie Steckel from 2018 at The Lion and Unicorn Theatre. In her appeal for donations to finance the project Steckel herself draws parallels between The Cut and other feminist dystopias by stating: "If you're a fan of the handmaid's tale, violent explorations of gender politics, or frighteningly familiar dystopian worlds, keep reading..."7 To adapt the new production even more clearly to a gender debate, they "added a little twist. Two of the roles originally played by men have now been reimagined as women, giving the original class dynamics explored in the play an unsettling rebirth in the gender politics of today."8
3. Theoretical Background
This chapter aims to give a theoretical overview of the significance of gender in dystopian fiction in general, and the theory of toxic masculinity in particular, in order to then analyse The Cut on the basis of these theories.
3.1. Gender in Dystopian Fiction
“A gender-equal society would be one where the word ‘gender' does not exist: where everyone can be themselves."
Gloria Steinem A society is always characterized by the freedom of its members. It is no coincidence that dystopian societies prove to be extremely restrictive, especially with regard to the freedom of all individuals. Furthermore, dystopian societies often show the totalitarian state and its means of power, with only small groups - usually men - enjoying privileges and the standard of living in the lower and middle classes being below the level of contemporary societies.
The word dystopia has its origin in two Greek words: “dus and topos, meaning a diseased, bad, faulty, or unfavourable place “ (Claeys 4). Dystopias draw “a non-existent society described in considerable detail and normally located in time and space that the author intended a contemporaneous reader to view as considerably worse than the society in which that reader lived” (Claeys 280), and are always occasioned by and related to the historical, political, and cultural atmosphere in which a writer is living and working.
This can also be seen in the representation of gender roles in dystopian fiction. "The condition and role of women is particularly relevant because it is one of the features that characterize the first critical dystopias predominantly by women writers that, (...) started to appear with a certain regularity in the late 1970s and early 1980s” (Baccolini 39 f.). Even if patriarchy in itself is not a fictional dystopia, but rather a reality also in the 21st century, it became a setting for feminist dystopias again and again with the beginning of the feminist movement. The supposedly "self- evident" oppression and discrimination of women in the patriarchate is multiplied to a new extreme in novels such as The Handmaids Tale by Margaret Atwood, Vox by Christina Dalcher or Octavia Butler's Wild Seed and thus creates a society in which „the half of the populace which is female is controlled by that half which is male” (Millett, et al. 25). Although the focus in such dystopias mostly lies on the suffering of women, the effects on the other half of the population must not be neglected either. Indeed, a strongly dichotomous society, in which the value system as such is based on an oppositional binarity, has an impact on all its members - including men. In a society in which sex and gender are strictly equated, even the supposedly privileged individuals are subject to restrictions and thus unfree. Strict role assignments lead to stressful situations and conflicts with oneself and the other, for both women and men. Chapter 3.2. will deal with these conflicts in more detail.
3.2. Toxic Masculinity
"The crisis facing our boys today is not masculinity, rather it is toxic patriarchal hyper-masculinity.
In many ways, our boys are constantly clashing within themselves between who they really are and who they are expected to be. The stress of guarding and protecting a false self creates a deep wound in the male psyche."9
Melia Keeton Digby , The Hero's Heart: A Coming of Age Circle for Boys Interestingly enough, the sociological as well as psychological theory of toxic masculinity originally did not deal with the effects of harmful "male" behaviour on women, but primarily focused on "different aspects of men's relationship with their fathers and representations of masculinity" (Haider 2016, p. 557). In the 1990s, researchers conducted interviews with veterans of the Vietnam War - a disillusioned "generation of young men, drafted through a social script that presented war and the military as spaces of idealized masculinity, with fathers who had served themselves in World War II as models of heroism" (Haider 2016, p. 558). Due to their own experience of war and violence, a large number of young men found themselves disillusioned and disoriented in a homeland whose classical understanding of masculinity was still based on strength and symbolic or even actual violence. In a patriarchal society, male dominance and violence is on the one hand understood as a tool for protecting and controlling one's own family, and, on the other hand, as a tool of “maintaining or enforcing male privilege” (Fink 164). Questioning this violence therefore questions the whole patriarchal order and also the man himself - which can cause a vast feeling of disorientation on the part of men. Therefore, even though “there is no universally agreed-upon definition of the concept, generally “toxic masculinity” is used to refer to a loosely interrelated collection of norms, beliefs, and behaviors associated with masculinity, which are harmful to women, men, children, and society more broadly” (Sculos 1).
The main reason for this is the composition of the male role. All along it has been designed to confront men with risks, dangers and threats. Men are supposed to bravely face these dangers and not admit the fears, problems and sufferings associated with them. In their role as controlling, strong, leading, dominant, logically acting, successful, hard, ambitious and possessive individuals, masculinity is defined primarily by the contrast to femininity (Hollstein 73). Men are expected to function as efficiently as possible, just like a machine (Tithecott 96).
Up to today, there are still persistent ideas about what "real men" should be like - this also applies to women, of course. While women are expected to be “to be caring, sharing, moderate, flexible and communicative” (Breines et al. 15), men must not show weakness, but be tough. A real man shall not articulate his fears and worries, but keep them to himself. Behaviours that are considered feminine (crying, shyness, fear, loving or tender gestures, etc.) are not appropriate for a real man. A real man always wants sex and is always ready for it. Furthermore, “toxic masculinity involves the need to aggressively compete and dominate others and encompasses the most problematic proclivities in men” (Kupers 1).
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1 https://www.ft.com/content/82f9b77a-a949-11da-b2b8-0000779e2340
2 https://www.standard.co.uk/go/london/theatre/ravenhill-cant-cut-it-7386847.html
3 https://www.ft.com/content/82f9b77a-a949-11da-b2b8-0000779e2340
4 https://www.theguardian.com/stage/2006/mar/01/theatre1
5 https://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/3650587/A-tense-triumph-of-style-over-substance.html
6 https://www.theguardian.com/stage/2006/mar/01/theatre1
7 https://www.indiegogo.com/proiects/the-cut-by-mark-ravenhill-gender-flipped#/
8 https://www.indiegogo.com/proiects/the-cut-by-mark-ravenhill-gender-flipped#/
9 https://medium.com/@Ritchie.Calvin/toxic-masculinity-an-essay-e1066cf22c55