A week or so ago, the WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge was Self-Portrait.
My first three entries showed an eye, a shadow, a reflection — and I was hardly alone in my curious reluctance actually to come out and show my face. Many many people were also playing hide-and-seek. Maybe I should say many, many women — because two notable exceptions I remember are guys who are right out there: frizztext as a Rembrandt hero and Cedric de Alicoque, who turns out to look like a movie star.
Finally on entry Four I bit the bullet, and showed — well, not all, but a goodly amount of bare face. Lots of fun comments followed, but Stef (of Smile, Kiddo) said she was still reluctant to post her own image, for no particular reason that she knew of. So I was thinking about this, and thinking about this, and wondering why it took me four attempts to get enough courage just to show my face in public.
But why should it take courage? What do I think about how I look, or about putting my face before the public? And this is what popped into my head this morning:
Medusa, painting by Caravaggio
This is the fearful Gorgon Medusa as painted by Caravaggio. Medusa, in Greek myth, was reputedly so hideous — with the writhing snakes of her hair and all — that simply to look at her would turn men to stone. The Greek hero Perseus, in order to slay her, used a polished shield the goddess Athena gave him so that he could use her reflection to aim his sword in safety, and that was the end of Medusa. But maybe Caravaggio got it right — take away the melodramatic snakes, and Medusa is actually beautiful, although her features are distorted by anger. I mean, it wasn’t some ordinary bad hair day that doomed her: she had been raped by the god Poseidon, and ended up getting the blame and the snaky hair and all.
Hmmm.
Modern feminists have rediscovered this myth, and poor snaky-locked Medusa, and many have adopted her as the symbol of feminine rage over exactly such stories, no myths, but actual occurrences around the world to this very day.
Now I’m not thrilled with what I see when I look in my mirror, but I don’t REALLY expect my countenance will turn folks to stone. And yet —
All kidding aside, it felt like risky business to put my face out there; and judging from what I saw, or didn’t see, on many of the blogs I follow, it remains an act of risk for lots of other women. Something to ponder, perhaps? What do you think?
A View From The Woods 
I agree, Judith I sat out of the challenge, despite having my face on my gravatar. Guess, i am not alone. Let me tell you about this pretty young friend of mine who was offended when someone told her she was photogenic. Being close to her, i tried to reason that she is indeed a beautiful person, inside-out. She opened up saying that her offence was on two counts. One, women can’t seem to call a spade a spade; they prefer underhanded compliments instead, couldn’t the othet lady just say she’s pretty? and secondly she reasoned is that being photogenic means a person who looks good on film not in person.
She is too sure of her self in her own perception, I am not. I can’t let go of my own perceptions of how unpretty i am to myself. May be i set my standards too high, and quite honestly, I’d not fish for compliments, because I guess, I’d not believe the world made up of my friends, after all they all just want me to be happy right?
Interesting, Kamakshi. Basically what I hear you saying is a lack of self-confidence about one’s looks.
I share that lack.
I wonder if this is a response to such great emphasis placed in our cultures on women’s appearance? Boys are usually praised for a bunch of traits. Little girls start out with hearing, Isn’t she pretty? Or worse, not hearing it!
At least this is my first response. I think both of us will be interested in other responses.
(Your gravatar photo is actually lovely, you know. Or perhaps don’t know. 🙂
I agree but I guess it also has something to do with the perception that women are vain as compared to men. We go that extra mile to put makeup on (not all of us though) so prettiness is percieved to be acquired. And most of us do look better on film than in person, may be i am wrong, but my mirror and my camera tell two different tales to my mind 🙂
I suppose it’s an advantage that women can wear makeup to improve their appearance— but then men, who generally can’t do that, aren’t EXPECTED to do that. Their looks aren’t such a measure of their power and influence.
As far as looking better on film than in person — for some people absolutely that’s true, even actresses. The people of whom it’s said, The camera loves them. Usually has to do with bone structure reflecting light and shadow.
On the other hand, there are people who are a wipeout when it comes to a camera, but are very attractive in person, perhaps because their attractiveness is in their lively features. Think of a killer smile!
Complicated, huh?
😀
(Hey, I just remembered, your mirror isn’t what you look like, because it’s reversed. You can only see yourself as others do — through the camera!)
I am trying. In some places I have replaced the “in the distance” “on a horse” photo of me with a face shot. In other places, I’ve tried to replace it, but failed. Other places, I won’t try.
I love seeing what other bloggers look like, but I really dislike looking at my own face in a photo or posted anywhere online. I don’t mind looking in a mirror, but I carefully dodge cameras and cringe when I see someone tag me in a photo they post on facebook.
I think, for many readers, a pretty–young–thin face serves to validate what an author says and I don’t possess one of those.
I don’t hide my name – why my face?
Oh, but I think that is a thought for another day.
Well, it’s certainly a thought worth thinking. I have a feeling this is a whole can of worms — appearance of women in our society (although there’s one guy who’s about to weigh in that you might find interesting).
Your suggestion that a pretty-young-thin face serves to validate what an author says —
I wonder, I really wonder. I think about Maya Angelou – Georgia O’Keeffe — long ago, Simone de Beauvoir —
Are we talking about attraction? Authority? Wisdom?
Keep on thinking, Lori. I will too.
“I don’t hide my name – why my face?” Yes, food for thought.
I am not sure that photos or mirror reflections of oneself pose an issue for women mostly. As a moderately competent male amateur photographer of faces of women, men, children and animals, I must admit that I resist staying still for pictures of me. I get fidgety and cranky whenever a lens is pointed in my direction. My good wife is usually annoyed when she tries to photograph me. She tells me that I stiffen up, scowl, and make grumpy noises. She is right, of course. Even when she has picked out, let us say a sweater for me, and drags me to a mirror to approve a color, I resist.
In shaving my face in the morning, I walk around with the darn razor buzzing in my ear while studiously avoiding the mirror except for the hairline close parts. We are pretty well matched in this respect, my wife and me. She has always resisted showing her face in photos. This is the face, you must understand, that I have adored for nigh on fifty three years, and counting. But she has loosened up a bit recently, and I am happy for that. But is there a similar hope for me? I just don’t know.
There are always miracles, fb — I DO believe in miracles. So perhaps some day there’ll be a photo WITHOUT a cup hiding the face —
You have such a nice face, it makes me sad when you diss it.
My mother was forever admonishing me, “Pretty is as pretty does,” and “It’s what’s on the inside that counts,” and “Beauty is only skin deep.” Mirrors were for checking your hair to see that it was in place under your Sunday hat, not for making self-judgements. BUT, I read all the fairy tale romances in which the princess was ALWAYS beautiful. I didn’t look a thing like a princess. As a consequence, I grew up thinking I was as plain as dirt. Now, looking back at pictures of me as a young woman, I think I was actually rather pretty. I don’t believe I have aged particularly well but I’m willing to bet if I live to be 90 and look back at pictures of me in my 60s I’ll still be saying, “Gee, I wasn’t THAT bad!”
I remember my wise son saying to me once, “People’s ideas of beauty change. Look at Rubens – his models were all Rubenesque.” (I was complaining at the time of being rather generously proportioned.) “If you’re kind, if you’re compassionate, if you’re helpful, your beauty shines out of you. Eventually, people respond to that kind of beauty and begin to see you as you are – beautiful.”
I like to remember his words when I despair over my looks. Then I try to do beautiful rather than be beautiful.
Being even older than you, Pauline, I can look back further at photos and encounter the same phenomenon: who IS that rather attractive young woman? Could that have been me?
I’ve seen some of your old photos. Plain as dirt? Hah! Beautiful indeed.
And that’s before even tackling the subject of the beauty of age —
Disrespected in our whole society — yet the wisdom and humility and hard won compassion of age are very powerfully beautiful. I think our society suffers (among its many ills) from an exceedingly narrow standard of what is good to look at and to be.
Judith, it’s not that I lack confidence in how I look (I’m quite pretty, actually), but more that I’m reluctant to give up what relative anonymity I have on my blog. If I were to disclose my full name, face, city I live in, company I work for, etc etc, I feel like I would lose some of the freedom I currently have to say exactly whatever it is I want to say on my own little personal slice of internet space.
Does that make any sense?
Absolutely, Stef.
The privacy issue is one of the biggies when it comes to the internet. Not just an issue with Facebook, but affecting everything, including our blogs. I’m also very careful about guarding my privacy when it comes to the facts you’re talking about. Anonymity is freedom.
(Except for blogging about living in Northampton, I suppose, but it’s such a nifty place to blog about!;-))
On the other hand, the weekly photo challenge wasn’t asking for any personal information whatever, just a photo. And I was struck by how many women didn’t do this even to a limited degree, and it seems curious.
I, on my part, was a little out of touch with the photo challenge when it came about. In recent years, I’ve come to terms with that ‘I am what I am’, and have no problem seeing myself in a photo. I totally LOVE what Pauline’s son said though.
Since I started the blog-a-day project, I’ve regretted that I didn’t do it totally anonymous, like Stef. Then, it would have been whole different story. But then again, I like to write both about Saint John and my hometown in Sweden … where the latter is rather giving.
I didn’t do the challenge, but I posted my photo in your comments section 🙂
In which we got to see your rich auburn hair: here —
Only those who’ve entered into the conversation have been able to see it — an automatic kind of sorting-out, no?
Happy New Year to you both, and hope to see you LOTS in the blogosphere in 2012!
Medusa always fascinated me since I was a boy. Who could resist not looking at those snakes moving on top of her head? I’m the first one to turn into stone I bet. Great version of the theme.
Happy New Year…
You remind me of when I was a kid so long ago — I also found Medusa’s legend fascinating too. But the feminist revisionist interpretation suggested in Wikipedia I find very convincing — or at the least, very provocative.
Isn’t it about how comfortable we are with and within ourselves? I hate having my photo taken these days and the only way I could join in was to goof around but like Kamakshi I also have a pic for my gravatar (but the only one I like) because it doesn’t show my jowly bits!
The Medusa myth, well I’d love to be able to turn a few people to stone!!!
Oh, Gilly, that’s priceless! It never occurred to me to wonder about that — if I had the snaky locks of Medusa, who would I appear to and turn them to stone? Now you’ve got me thinking!
I don’t think that my physical appearance is very interesting. And, many years ago, I was informed that my face was only “pretty in the dark”. At this point in my life (fifty plus years old), I don’t really want to waste any time trying to address such superficial remarks.
Having said that, there are photos of me on my blog at http://thirdhandart.wordpress.com/2011/09/21/grateful-and-honored-thank-you/
They’re not self portraits, but they’re fairly recent captures.
They’re lovely photos, obviously taken with the eyes of love. And just think how beautiful is the face your grandchild sees —
As far as whoever said that all those years ago, Theresa, they deserve to have Medusa appear to them on the spot! (As Gilly suggests, there are people who deserve to be turned to stone —) My memory held on to such cruel (and undeserved) remarks for decades until — entering my 70’s, I’ve let go of pretty much all of it! Life is too short!
A very happy New Year to you and all of yours!
I played hide and seek with that week’s theme too and finally posted a photo of my sillouhette. I do have some shots of my face on my blog but they’re usually tiny or a shot of my side profile – again hide and seek. Even my Facebook profile pic is a sillouhette. I really can’t articulate a good reason for my discomfort at seeing my face on my blog or anywhere online. Privacy is probably one although letting others know what you look like isn’t exactly that big a deal. Another reason I suppose is that we care too much about what others think of us, and we fear possible criticism, especially women. Thanks for this post – it sure tosses up some food for thought. Btw, I thought your photo was beautiful and I loved your hair! 🙂
Thanks so much for weighing in on this matter, HS. The privacy issue you and others raise is certainly real. But then there’s that additional layer of “discomfort” for many. That’s a source of wonderment for me.
Curiously, in this youth-centered culture, “coming out” as a white-haired woman has been the single greatest source of liberation I’ve ever experienced! I wrote about it way back when I began blogging on Touch2Touch, It’s the White Hair that Does It (it’s still the highest-rated blogpost I’ever done). To me “the hair thing” was an incredible happening, and seems to have touched a chord for many.
Thanks again for the visit and comment, and the happiest of New Years is my wish for you!
(Marketing to Milk sent her comment to Touch2Touch, where I refer to this post — but she’s asked to join the ongoing conversation so I’m posting it for her here:)
Marketing to Milk commented on A Christmas Story — Kind Of
I think my reluctance ( had i been challenged) would be to have found the “right” image. I think it’s a mixture of vanity (i want to look good/cool) together with desire not to look like you’re trying to be all those things. Then there’d be the overthinking – is this funny, or is it cringeworthy, do i look like i’m having fun or a bit of a nut.
Women – complex, introspective creatures!
M2M
(So here’s my reply to M2M’s comment:)
Terrific comment, M2M!
I’ve found that overthinking is often a killer for me too. Thanks for the reminder —
(Occasionally it makes me laugh, though — remembering the advice I once got in spiritual direction from an exasperated guide: Just Do It!)
Complexity and introspection — those familiar companions– offer many rewards for those made that way. But without doubt they can (and often do) hinder action and spontaneity.
As for the familiar coupling of women and vanity (especially by male poets): I would inquire, What is macho if not male vanity?
Wishes for a happy and healthy and active 😉 New Year — and hopes to see you back here in 2012!
oh let’s just look in the mirror and claim our self “this is me and there is only one like me anywhere in anytime.” Look at that, will ya, one beautiful woman smiling back at you in the mirror. it’s the only way to squash those old patriarchal commands about women! just sayin’
As usual with you, Joss, “just sayin'” is always saying A LOT.
Thanks for being you, and for sharing yourself so generously here —-
Happy 2012!