[Not about PINTER/Proust. LOL. Assumes awareness of this article. I have not watched the Obsession trailer — yet. I watched the short preview, saw Armitage’s thumb on someone’s throat, and was — dare I say it — turned OFF. And slightly surprised about it.]
On Friday, an Armitage friend — ok, let’s be honest, I’ve known her thirteen years, I’ve only met her once, but we’ve had enough frank conversations about intimate and indeed grave matters that she is solidly in the “friend” category nowadays, though she’s shelved her Armitage fandom — dropped me a FB message to say that she had seen the Obsession trailer and she was really glad she didn’t have to ride this out in the fandom.
I agreed. Some of it’s expected. Every new project spawns a group of more or less vociferous “I’m sitting this one out” fans. Each time, a few fans even become frustrated enough with the continued stream of mediocre projects that make us think “he is so much better than this material” that they quietly move on to other crushes. Admittedly, I had underestimated the impact of the latter effect until very recently. Outrage about a project is still a symptom of love, but not caring about something enough to express yourself about it at all? Nothing could be a stronger sign of the death of a crush than indifference. No one wants their crush to be “somebody that I used to know,” even if Armitage said in 2012 that he liked the song.
I wrote about desire, sex, and fantasy quite a bit back then, and in my experience, debates on these topics have always operated around a huge open chasm around cultural and discursive differences in the Richard Armitage fandom, with a sort of label above the abyss — “being respectful” — that is equally a bridge and a weapon. Some resonances certainly came to mind (there are probably more), and this stuff is what my friend knew she wouldn’t miss.
Like Guylty, I do miss the times of intense discussions but not the punishing arguments, and increasingly, these go hand in hand. Right now, I don’t experience fan drama unless I seek it out and my curiosity has fallen to an all-time low. I hadn’t planned to write, but reading other bloggers’ thoughts (Guylty; Esther; Kate) has reminded me of a recent recognition that sex as an identity issue has really changed for me. This blog had its origins in re-claiming my own identity, and that (identity) would be the main reason to continue writing, with or without Richard Armitage. And if I continue what I hope will be more regular blogging, I will have a lot to say about sex.
In the short term, first, to the article.
Like many of us I was surprised to learn that Richard Armitage pitied people who hadn’t had an “overwhelming, indescribable physical obsession” because “everyone should feel that.” Or that one is not fully human who has not experienced an all-consuming orgasm. For readers familiar with the history of academic psychology, his claim is going to sound a lot like a vulgarization of Erik Erikson’s statements about mutuality of heterosexual orgasm in Childhood and Society (1950) — if psychologists thought this way at one time, those days have ended as the influence of Freud and the Oedipal complex on psychotherapy gradually and thankfully wane. Perhaps it’s worth a reminder that well into our lifetimes, respected professionals still thought of male homosexuality as a type of psychological disorder, a sort of immature, pre-genital fixation on pleasure. Since I assume that Armitage would characterize himself as fully human and sexually mature, though, I was idly curious about who played the role of indescribable physical obsession for him, and whether it might have been Lee Pace. I also thought it was mildly paradoxical to say that everyone should experience an uncontrollable obsession, but that he wanted his characters’ on-screen sex lives to be choreographed. Obsession for thee, but not for me? We’ve seen that before, too, back when he was trying to change our tastes.
There’s a pattern there, though. It’s like saying he prefers to spend his life in control, but that he likes to ski because then he’s out of control. Or that it’s uncivilized to cry uncontrollably in reality, but he longs to do it during acting. In short: Armitage regularly appears to be the sort of individual reluctant to know “what would happen if [he] let his appetites overwhelm [him].” Or one who would be glad to let his appetites overwhelm him, if only he could control the process. There would be something worth teasing out at length here through a decade of interviews, especially in light of some fans’ assessments that Armitage’s career hasn’t taken off further because his performances don’t dare very much. It’s the kind of thing people say as they’re walking out the door, and I don’t necessarily share this view, but I have heard it expressed more than once. It fits with his oft-alluded-to horror of auditioning, and I’ve wondered recently if the reason for the kinds of projects he does now relates to a reluctance or refusal to audition. Years ago Armitage didn’t like the idea of one man shows, but as an audiobook narrator he is increasingly involved in them. Does he even like acting? Lately, in light of the publication of his own book, I sort of wonder. It’s all stuff that it’s much easier to be in control of than acting.
Whatever his remarks mean, of course, they are certainly about him, just as my interpretation of them is about me.
Me + Richard Armitage 