Tag Archives: athletes

Serena and Venus Williams: Sisters with Different Bodies

Laurie and Debbie say:

We have blogged about the Williams sisters before. But when we read this quote from Serena in an article by sports writer Bruce Jenkins (San Francisco Chronicle), it was time to write about her again. Usually “I’ve never been happier with myself” is a diet ad cliche.  Not this time.

Serena and Venus Williams

The most ridiculous criticism I’ve seen about Serena concerns her weight. Venus is a separate entity in the Williams family. She’s that girl you remember in high school, so trim and composed, and when you showed up at a reunion 20 years later, appalled at the collection of sad-sack mediocrity, there was that one girl, now a grown woman, even more admirable than before.

Serena’s body type falls into pattern with the rest of the women (including half-sisters) in the Williams family. Her entire adult life has been a battle to stay in shape. I was among many who assumed, five or six years ago, that she wouldn’t be long for the tour’s top 20. Now that she has proven everyone wrong (at the end of her epic, nearly three-hour Wimbledon semifinal win against Elena Dementieva, she was charging the net on match point against her), people still can’t quite grasp the truth.

“She’s not fit,” Simon Barnes wrote in the Times of London. “A pie or two has been consumed along the way.” Fox Sports columnist Jason Whitlock, in a piece as vicious as it was preposterous, wrote that “she’d rather eat” than compete hard in lesser tournaments, that she’s been “grazing at her stall between matches,” and that “she needs a little less butt.”

Nice to have these (male) “experts” offering as fact their uninformed opinions on the body of someone whose physical feats they couldn’t match in a million years.

Well, guess what, everybody, this formidable woman is laying waste to the countryside. Since this time last year, Serena owns three tournament titles – the U.S. Open, the Australian Open and Wimbledon. Her next major singles title will tie her with Billie Jean King (12) on the all-time list. Forget whatever the tour rankings claim; Serena is No. 1, followed closely by Venus.

“If all I did was play tennis, I’d be burned out by now and out of the game,” Serena said during Wimbledon. “But it’s not to say I don’t work hard at tennis. I’m in better shape than people think I am. I always wanted to look like Venus growing up, that tall, thin body that looks so good in clothes. Sometimes I felt like I hated her because I wanted my body to look like that, and I knew it never would. I’m built different. I have a big butt and chest. I could go without eating for two years and I still wouldn’t be a size two. I finally realized that not everybody’s Mary-Kate (Olsen), and I’ve never been happier with myself.”

Millions of American women need to hear what Serena is saying, in part because it never gets said from a position of power. The concept that women, including sisters, have different basic body types and shapes, that those shapes can all be as healthy as each other, and that you can be a terrific athlete without looking like a supermodel should not be radical. It shouldn’t even be slightly unfamiliar. But it is. And Serena Williams isn’t just a tennis champion: she’s also a truth-teller.

The Olympics: Eye Candy and Its Discontents

Laurie and Debbie say:

It’s good to be blogging together again.

This month, the Olympics are an inevitable focus for conversations about bodies. We want to make sure you don’t miss Rebecca Solnit’s important take on the topic.

The elegant sinewiness of a sprinter, the coiled power of a diver, has little to do with the abstraction called nationhood, except that the sprinter or diver is being put forward as the public face of his or her nation—or the mask. There are other faces to nationhood. We live in an era where truth is most often found by looking away from the spectacle presented to us.

Sports bring us the human body as a manifestation of nature—not just the elegant forms of athletes, but their animal ability to move through air and water. At the Olympics, these bodies are co-opted by a political culture that wants to be seen as natural, legitimate, stirring, beautiful. Beautiful bodies are just one kind of nature that nations like to claim. After all, this country invented the idea of “national” parks and claims the sublimity of the Grand Canyon (which preceded it by hundreds of millions of years) and all those purple mountains’ majesty as part of its identity. Corporations too like pristine landscapes, particularly for advertisements in which an SUV perches on some remote ledge, or a high-performance car zips along a winding road through landscape splendor…. Of course most of us have become pretty well versed in critiquing advertisements as such—we assume they are coverups if not outright lies. But the Olympics have not been subjected to the same level of critique.

It serves the nations of the world to support the exquisitely trained Olympian bodies, and it often serves their more urgent political and economic agendas to subject other bodies to torture, mutilation, and violent death, as well as to look away from quieter deaths from deprivation and pollution. In the struggles for land and resources—for Chinese control of Tibet, and for the petroleum fields of Sudan and the timber and mineral wealth of Burma—bodies are mowed down like weeds. The celebrated athletic bodies exist in some sort of tension with the bodies that are being treated as worthless and disposable.

We’d go a step past Solnit here, changing her “some sort of tension” into perhaps (to use a very Olympics-common word) “competition.” The beautiful bodies of the Olympics are symbolically nationalized and symbolically corporatized; the spectacle of the Olympics is one of the ways the governments of the world use to say “Everything is all right. Those little things you’re worried about can be ignored. We’re the greatest, we’re the strongest, we’re the fastest, we’re the best; so don’t worry about what else we might be doing. Clearly our cause is righteous.” Corporate advertising says something similar, but not identical: “We can make you almost as beautiful, almost as muscled, almost as successful as these athletes. We can make you dream of being like them, and we can get you damn close to your dream. So don’t worry about what else we might be doing. Clearly, our motives are the best.”

The Olympics have always been about politics and power. The 1936 Berlin Olympics are famous as the “Nazi Olympics”; Hitler used them shamelessly to promote his Aryan-ideal agenda. Solnit discusses the 1968 Mexico City Olympics, where two medal-winning runners gave the black power salute from the podium, and went without shoes to symbolize poverty among African-Americans. In the lead-up to the Beijing Olympics, human rights protesters were able to make news by interfering with the torch procession. In other years, the host nation may have been less obviously guilty of misusing its citizens’ bodies, the world may be less aware of torture and neglect in their own countries, but the issues are always there. The goal of the Olympics is always to sweep the ugly (ugly bodies, ugly policies) under the rug.

We all know that nations and corporations lie for their own gain, and will do anything to keep us looking at the spectacle. Beautiful bodies performing astonishing feats are hard to look away from.

Ursula K. Le Guin’s famous story, “The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas,” is the classic tale of looking where you can’t bear to see. The story posits an extremely happy city whose happiness rests, however, on the intense misery of one imprisoned child, neglected to the point of torture, on display once a year for those citizens who wish to see.

At times one of the adolescent girls or boys who go see the child does not go home to weep or rage, does not, in fact, go home at all. Sometimes also a man or a woman much older falls silent for a day or two, then leaves home. These people go out into the street, and walk down the street alone. They keep walking, and walk straight out of the city of Omelas, through the beautiful gates. … They leave Omelas, they walk ahead into the darkness, and they do not come back. The place they go towards is a place even less imaginable to most of us than the city of happiness. I cannot describe it at all. It is possible that it does not exist. But they seem to know where they are going, the ones who walk away from Omelas.

Thanks to Stefanie for the pointer.