Reyna Ledet is a 2022 UT Grad who majored in Geography and Religious Studies. She enjoys analyzing the ways religion interacts with modern life, and the ways humans use stories to better understand themselves. This past semester, she took AMS311s “Haunting in American Culture.”

Fears of women’s bodily autonomy have fueled American moral panics for decades. The right of a woman to divorce, control her own money, and even to express her femininity has been controlled and limited over time. Even now, in 2022, the imminent overturn of Roe v. Wade promises to hurt women across America. However, issues of bodily autonomy are not the same between white women and women of color. Women of color and disabled women have historically faced forced sterilization on top of forced births, and Black women in America face an alarmingly high maternal mortality rate[1]. In media, confronting these issues directly can be difficult or painful; sometimes, framing this stolen control and the resulting trauma as supernatural can make catharsis over the issue more accessible. Possession in media often acts as a metaphor for the ways men violate and claim ownership of women’s bodies, but depending on how the narrative treats the possession, it can also indicate something about the politics the creators subscribe to - intentionally or not. 

The two sources used here to illustrate this point are Jennifer’s Body, directed by Karyn Kusama and written by Diablo Cody, and Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia. Both sources are pieces of pop culture, and both involve women at high levels of creative control. Neither source involves the straightforward narrative of possession (a ghost taking over a body and using it to act on the material world), but both invoke possession as part of their narrative. Both sources also rely on genre to help tell their stories; Jennifer’s Body with the rape/revenge genre, and Mexican Gothic with gothic and cosmic horror. Each story plays with genre and references wider social forces, but ultimately, one story more successfully presents a nuanced understanding of bodily autonomy, and the comparison reveals the limits of a mostly white feminist perspective.

Jennifer’s Body uses possession to imply a sexual assault, and its muddled message tries to create an empowerment narrative by refreshing the rape/revenge genre. In the movie, an indie band called Low Shoulder sacrifices a high schooler named Jennifer to Satan to gain fame and influence. Because Jennifer is not a virgin, she dies and transforms into a succubus who feeds on people to survive. The movie frames the circumstances around Jennifer’s kidnapping and sacrifice sexually – she claims to be a virgin in the van on the way to the Devil’s Kettle to convince the band not to rape her, the band sings the song “8675-309/Jenny” by Tommy Tutone (including the line “I used my imagination, but I was disturbed”)[2] as the frontman of the band stabs Jennifer repeatedly in the stomach, and after the assault, he stands and breathes heavily as if he has just climaxed. Despite not directly depicting a sexual assault, the framing of the situation conveys the same effect. This assault transforms Jennifer into a demon, and she loses her empathy and begins to terrorize the town. The band gets to be the town heroes for most of the movie while Jennifer becomes the villain; only Jennifer’s guilt-riddled friend Needy understands the truth of the situation. The choice to use an indie band to commit this crime calls to mind the ways the alternative music scene preyed on young female fans in the 2000s[3]; it speaks to an awareness of broader social forces that might make a young woman vulnerable to attack. There is no doubt that the reason for Jennifer’s possession is meant to be a metaphor for a sexual violation of a woman’s body, but her atypical reaction to the trauma allows her to begin a revenge narrative that serves the audience on a shallow level.

The film tries to revamp the “rape/revenge” genre of films – movies in which a woman is sexually assaulted, and then someone seeks revenge for this transgression – but it undermines its message by clearly depicting Jennifer’s actions as evil. Jennifer’s Body follows the structure of a rape/revenge story, but it was created for teenage girls and reflected what teenage girls in 2009 might have needed to see in a horror movie.[4] While movies that depict women seeking their own revenge on their assaulter (such as I Spit on Your Grave) already exist, Jennifer’s Body spends less voyeuristic time on the assault and more time on Jennifer’s reaction to the trauma. [5]

“Jennifer’s Body and the Horrific Female Gaze” discusses how the movie does not reveal the actresses’ bodies to the audience, allowing them to retain their dignity;[6] many rape/revenge stories include a exploitative depiction of the rape to either titillate or horrify the audience. Watching Jennifer tear apart men who see her as sexually desirable without ever showing actresses nude may feel good to audiences who deal with misogyny and unwanted sexualization. However, despite being visually empowering, the message becomes more confused in the text of the movie.

Jennifer begins to consume young men that find her sexually enticing, including Needy’s friend from class, Colin, and Needy’s boyfriend, Chip. One of the themes Diablo Cody wanted to explore in her writing was the complex dynamics of high school female friendships[7], which explains why the film centers Needy and Jennifer’s relationship. However, the emphasis on the complexity of teenage girls creates problems for the attempt at an empowering rape/revenge format. Jennifer’s first victim lacks a support network in America, her second is grieving the loss of a friend, her third was just a young man with a crush, and her fourth had just gone through a confusing breakup with his girlfriend. None of these boys indicate a desire to violate Jennifer; to their knowledge, Jennifer consented to their sexual encounters. In the same way that Low Shoulder took advantage of Jennifer’s vulnerability, all of Jennifer’s victims had vulnerabilities she exploited to violate their bodies. At least one person in the community grieves each murder victim, some very intensely. While visually and out of context, Jennifer’s sexualized murders may feel like empowering revenge, the cruelty of her murders steals any empowerment audiences might get out of the movie. Jennifer’s demonic callousness puts her in conflict with Needy, which is more relevant to the plot than the fact that Jennifer was assaulted. For instance, Jennifer chooses to kill Colin because Needy expressed fondness for him, not because he deserved death (according to the movie’s moral code). Jennifer does not even get to enact real revenge by killing Low Shoulder; Needy kills the band with the demonic powers Jennifer inadvertently gave her. The focus on Needy’s journey reduces Jennifer to a sympathetic villain whose tragic loss serves as motivation for another character’s narrative. The subversions in genre the film succeeds at do not refresh the rape/revenge genre; they only create new thematic problems.

The movie also has problems with race. When asking if Needy and her boyfriend have just had sex, Jennifer asks if they have been eating “Thai food”[8]. Ahmet, Jennifer’s first victim, never speaks, only communicates in nods and head shakes. Jennifer also tells Needy to get her nails done by a woman who is Chinese[9] after seeing how damaged they got after Needy cleaned up Jennifer’s vomit. These “edgy” elements alienate Asian viewers, despite the creators’ desire to represent teenage girls as a population. Beyond the specific problematic elements, there are also structural issues with the narrative that further a white feminist perspective. If the creators intended to write Jennifer’s character as a power fantasy that punishes evil men, then she represents a fantasy wherein the predator is replaced rather than removed. In the same way that hiring more female CEOs will not solve the problems women on the whole face under capitalism, shifting an unfair power dynamic to include women still perpetuates the power dynamic. Modern audiences resonate with the queerness depicted in the film[10], but the positive representation does not erase the problems. Despite subverting some expectations, Jennifer’s Body does not address the issues its possession metaphor brings up and fails to consider broader societal ills that can amplify or change the implications of a sexual assault.

In contrast to the lack of consideration for race and other systems of oppression in Jennifer’s Body, the novel Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia uses possession as a metaphor for the long-lasting impacts of colonialism on Mexican women’s bodies, as well as how misogyny affects the colonizers and colonized in slightly different ways. The patriarch of the Doyle family, Howard, forces Noemi to consume mushroom spores by kissing her. This violation of Noemi's body turns her into an asset to the Doyle family by trapping her within the family manor. While there is no true ghostly possession, the mushrooms still exert influence over the bodies of the people of the house, so they act as a possessing force the same as any ghost. Notably, though, the mushroom spores exist as a part of the Mexican landscape that is exploited by outsiders. In the section of the Book Club Guide titled “A Letter from the Author,” Moreno-Garcia discusses the exploitation of indigenous people by mining operations.[11] Repeatedly, foreign powers forced locals to work the land only to steal from the Mexican landscape for the benefit of European empire. These exploitations displaced Indigenous people and killed many others. Howard Doyle turns the mushrooms into a method of profit and prolonged life, like the mineral deposits mined by Europeans, while actual Mexicans wither away. Only a select few Mexican people, such as Noemi, are allowed into the gene pool of the family to keep it from becoming too poisoned by incest, just as colonizers might marry an indigenous woman despite disrespecting their land, traditions, and autonomy. The Gloom of the mushrooms calls to mind the ways the haze of colonialism lingers over Mexico and its people - by stealing from and ruining the landscape, by traumatizing Mexican women over hundreds of years, and by allowing Mexican families to be torn apart by diseases. Howard’s dependence on the Gloom ties into this metaphor by positioning him as the colonizing parasite that sucks away the vibrance and resources of the indigenous community. The possession in this case has its sexual element - Noemi is expected to reproduce heirs to the Doyle family for Howard to possess in turn - but it also involves the inherent racism of the situation. Noemi and Catalina are not the only women in the book, though; Howards’s exploitation of his own family reveals the ways white women use power but still face oppression by white men.

Howard uses both Florence and Agnes Doyle to further his goals, but both women cause harm to Noemi and the Mexican people in the nearby village despite their own abuse. Florence acts as an antagonist throughout the novel by criticizing and belittling Noemi. When Noemi tries to escape with her cousin, Florence attempts to kill Noemi. Clearly, Moreno-Garcia did not intend to make the reader like Flroence, though there are glimpses of her humanity. She wanted to escape many years ago, clearly feels unhappy about her husband’s death, and the fruits of her labor are used by Howard the same as anyone else’s. Ultimately though, she serves the system she was forced into by Howard by participating in the conspiracy to trap Noemi. Florence inspires the audience to consider how she fits into a broader hierarchy in the narrative – she buys into Howard’s ideas through a combination of abuse and a sense of superiority. Howard treated Agnes in much the same way, only more egregiously. Agnes’ body is possessed by the mushrooms more thoroughly, but she in turn possesses the house and the people within it. Howard’s demands, expressed via the mushrooms, have nearly completely replaced her, and her only options are to beg for freedom and lash out. Like Jennifer in Jennifer’s Body, Agnes’ trauma transforms her into something monstrous, but her monstrosity is never mistaken for empowerment. “What had once been Agnes had become the gloom;”[12] Agnes’ perpetuation of colonial systems of power hurts her as much (if not more) as it hurts everyone else. Howard Doyle possesses the bodies of Agnes, Florence, and Noemi, but Agnes and Florence try to claim their own power by helping Howard. The unbalanced power dynamics empower no one, and only destroying the entire system can free the inhabitants of the house.

Like Jennifer’s Body, Mexican Gothic plays with genre to make points about the genres’ treatment of women. In contrast though, Mexican Gothic also has things to say about the ways oppressive power structures affect participants, even privileged ones. The “Gothic” in the title indicates that Moreno-Garcia intends to explore genre. For instance, the name “Howard Doyle” is a combination of H.P. Lovecraft and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, two giants in the realm of cosmic horror and mystery, respectively. Moreno-Garcia writes in the Q&A section of the Book Club Guide that “several of their stories contain racist elements”[13] (something of an understatement in Lovecraft’s case), nodding to the fact that while these genres are powerful and compelling to readers of many different kinds, oppressive elements exist in the foundations of these genres. In “The Girl in the Mansion,” Moreno-Garcia discusses the genre tropes that make up the building blocks of a mid-century “gothic” novel. The “formula” she discusses includes “a young woman, a big house, and a dangerous yet exciting man.”[14] The dangerous man in this case is Virgil, Catalina’s husband. In the vein of Byronic, gothic heroes like Rochester and Heathcliff, Virgil plays the role of a misunderstood man to fool Noemi into compliance. Virgil uses the Gloom to molest Noemi several times throughout the novel, but the reader understands the horrified sexual arousal Noemi experiences as the confused sexual arousal Gothic love interests of the past inspire in the heroines of old. When the story confirms that Virgil manipulated Noemi, the reader must confront the idea that the abuses excused by Gothic stories of the past are truly just abuses. Virgil represents an extension of postcolonial thinking that disguises itself as harmless or charming.

Francis Doyle is the sort of man who could be the protagonist of a cosmic horror story, but his subversive treatment by the narrative allows him the freedom to escape the horror. In his video “Outsiders: How to Adapt Lovecraft In the 21st Century,” Harris Brewis discusses the reasons that Lovecraft’s writing may resonate with queer viewers despite Lovecraft’s noted homophobia and extreme racism. One of the things that Brewis discusses is the way that Lovecraft gestures at the feeling of facing down an uncaring god[15]; the Doyles refer to Howard as a god repeatedly, and Francis’ family expects him to become Howard’s new host body (thus also indicating the ways that oppressive power structures violate the bodies of men). More broadly though, Brewis discusses the ways that Lovecraft expresses the feeling of being an outsider to a society that does not understand you. Oppressed people of many backgrounds feel the anxieties of existing in a world that actively does not care for your needs. Francis must exist with the knowledge of the horrors his family has committed even as they treat him without respect. Only when Noemi exhibits the strength to overthrow the order of the world as it stands can Francis emerge from the shadow of guilt over the actions of his family. As a white person, Francis must assist in the fight against the remaining issues of colonialism and imperialism, despite whatever difficulty he has in grappling with his feelings. The relationship between Noemi and Francis indicates another departure from genre; in cosmic horror of the Lovecraft variety, characters usually react to knowledge by going mad. Noemi, as a woman of color, gets to have a happy ending where she gets to navigate her trauma with two allies (her cousin and Francis). Brewis discusses The Shape of Water, directed by Guillermo del Toro, as a way Lovecraft can be adapted for a modern audience. He argues that allowing the monster humanity through its interactions with the minority characters represents a better way to approach the horror of the outsider – from the outsider’s perspective.[16] Noemi and Francis are both outsiders to the world of the Doyles, and their differences in power give them different strengths and weaknesses when fighting the evils of the Doyle family. In cosmic horror stories, happy endings represent a radical idea for outsider (or minority) characters, and Mexican Gothic stands as a more empowering story because of the choice to have Francis and Noemi make it out together.

Jennifer’s Body and Mexican Gothic both have things to say about the horror of a violation of bodily autonomy, and both have elements that work thematically in their favor. However, where Jennifer’s Body fails to express a coherent theme, Mexican Gothic considers the ways social forces combine to create a worse outcome for some women than others and recognizes where a system should be taken apart instead of reassessed. The “possessions” in their narratives both discuss the ways men take advantage of women, but “possession” inevitably means something different to a white woman and a woman of color based on their respective histories in the world. Also, Mexican Gothic understands the ways that men can be preyed upon too, while Jennifer’s Body unintentionally revels in the idea. Overall, to really understand issues of autonomy, pop culture should center compassionate and intersectional feminist works.

[1] Donna L. Hoyert, Ph.D, "Maternal Mortality Rates in the United States, 2020," Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, last modified February 23, 2022, accessed May 8, 2022, https://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/hestat/maternal-mortality/2020/maternal-mortality-rates-2020.htm. The statistics referenced are from 2020, where the maternal mortality rate for Black women was 55.3%. This data fluctuates heavily due to the relatively small number of maternal deaths yearly, but even in the two previous years, Black women had the highest rate among White, Hispanic, and Black women.

[2] Jennifer's Body, directed by Karyn Kusama, screenplay by Diablo Cody, 20th Century Fox, 2009.

[3] Giselle Au-Nhien Nguyen, "How the pop punk scene became a hunting ground for sexual misconduct," The Brag, last modified November 23, 2017, accessed May 8, 2022, https://thebrag.com/pop-punk-internalised-misogyny-brand-new/.

[4]  "Jennifer's Body & the Horror of Bad Marketing," video, 20:06, YouTube, posted by Yhara Zayd, June 1, 2020, accessed May 6, 2022, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=llQ_OpOl7Qg&list=LL&index=8.

[5] Cinemagic Pictures, I Spit on Your Grave Poster, image, JPG. Theatrical release poster for the film I Spit on Your Grave. This image centers the sexual appeal of the main character, despite the condemnation of the assault she faces in the movie. The marketing for Jennifer’s Body looked much the same, but the marketing undermined the message of the movie, as argued by Yhara Zayd in her video on the topic (cited elsewhere).

[6] "Jennifer's Body and the Horrific Female Gaze," video, 20:34, Youtube, posted by The Take, July 27, 2021, accessed May 6, 2022, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X7Twg8rG2HI&t=221s.

[7]  "Jennifer's Body & the Horror of Bad Marketing," video.

[8] Jennifer's Body.

[9] Jennifer's Body.

[10] "Jennifer's Body & the Horror of Bad Marketing," video.

[11]  Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Mexican Gothic, book club edition. ed. (New York: Del Rey, 2021), 307.

[12] Moreno-Garcia, Mexican Gothic, 284.

[13] Moreno-Garcia, Mexican Gothic, 313.

[14] Moreno-Garcia, Mexican Gothic, 318.

[15]  Outsiders: How to Adapt H.P. Lovecraft in the 21st Century, screenplay and performed by Harris Brewis, 2018, accessed May 8, 2022, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l8u8wZ0WvxI.

[16] Outsiders: How to Adapt H.P. Lovecraft in the 21st Century.