Jack_
11-10-2016, 04:53 PM
So I was just doing a bit of reading and stumbled upon this article. For the record, I'm not sure I agree with the line of argument, but it's an interesting piece all the same and will no doubt spark some debate on here so I thought I'd share it :hee:
Honey G’s X Factor act isn’t funny. It’s modern-day blackface
“H to the O to the N to the E to the Y to the G; it’s Honey G,” bellowed the X Factor contestant Anna Gilford. Her performance of Tupac Shakur’s California Love was dedicated to her people in the “ends”. In case you’re wondering, that would be Harrow in north-west London, or as G calls it, “North Weezy”.
So what can Saturday night terrestrial TV tell us about race in the UK post-Brexit? Last weekend, Strictly Come Dancing was in full swing on BBC1 as contestants cha-cha-chaed their way to a racism row. ITV, on the other hand, had me slack-jawed at the modern-day minstrel show being so gleefully performed by Ms G.
Here were all the hallmarks of the originals from over 150 years ago; the appropriation of black cultural production; the demeaning obsession with black (in this case male) bodies exemplified by thrusting hips and grabbed crotches; and, last but by no means least, the raucous laughter.
From the judges to the studio audience and Twitter users who wanted to prove their individuality by liking something ironically, the amusement seemed to swell, becoming a “new national craze among mums and nans”, as the Mirror reported. The Sun declared that Honey G had “won over fans” with a performance that was “surprisingly entertaining”. “They saved the best for last! Honey G dazzles viewers as she closes first X Factor live show” ran the Daily Mail’s headline. Dazzled is a synonym of stunned, I guess. At least music magazine NME spared some time in asking if “The X Factor’s ‘Genuine Urban Artist’ Honey G is for real?”
In all the coverage and reaction to this woman’s representation of blackness, there was no comment on how reductive her caricature is. Apparently Honey G is just funny and nothing else. Wrong.
Honey G is a symbol of how race operates in the UK. Taken at face value, she is a less-than-mediocre rapper whose subpar performances have nevertheless lobbed her into the limelight. Or she’s a recruitment manager who has decided to create a persona for entertainment’s sake. In the case of the former, I’d say that we’ll know when we’ve reached true equality when black and minority ethnic people can be successful on less-than-middling talent and effort.
If Honey isn’t just another hapless X Factor stock character, the novelty act retained as watercooler fodder because “she’s so terrible but people keep voting her in!”, then this is about a significant section of the viewing public enjoying playing a role in demeaning black culture. And no, that’s not the same as saying Eminem isn’t allowed to rap because he’s white. No one who has listened to that artist can say his place in hip-hop history isn’t deserved. But then what is audible in his work is humility and respect for the music. There’s no trace of either trait in Gilford’s act.
Before Saturday’s performance, Honey invited us into her home or what she called her “crib”. Get it? The parody continued, emphasising her level of wealth, not by showing us her Bugatti or Lamborghini, but instead her “two kettles … and an electric bin”. I now, at least, have a relatable example of bathos used for comedic effect to share with my literature students. Honey G or the show’s producers may well want to ridicule the ostentatious show of wealth many rappers who graced MTV Cribs displayed, but perhaps they might think twice if they had walked in their shoes as black men from the American underclass.
Last week Donald Trump defended his “lewd comments” (what others not busy mincing their words call sexual harassment) by playing the “it’s only bantz” card. “Just a little bit of harmless fun” is the go-to of those crossing a line predicated on the teller not being the butt of their own jokes.
Honey G’s tinfoil gold tracksuit, shades and florid hand gestures betray what the whole act is about: a caricature of blackness as stupid and illicit. If it is not how Gilford herself intended it, it’s certainly the subtext of her affectations. In a Sun exclusive quoting Stephanie Jones, a former university friend of Gilford’s, we can clearly hear the racist undertones of Honey’s performances coming through. Jones “reveals” that “the kind of persona [Gilford] is putting on on The X Factor is very dumbed down”. Gilford is actually “very well spoken” and “smart” and “comes from a decent background”, as though blackness is the antithesis of all listed above. Is that Gilford’s intent or merely her audience’s response to her act? Whichever it is, it remains offensive.
The X factor judge Louis Walsh gushed that Tupac “would be happy” with Honey G’s performance. No, the son of Black Panther activists would not happy. Anyone caring to face facts would see this for what it is: modern-day blackface.
The Guardian (https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2016/oct/11/honey-g-x-factor-blackface-novelty-rapper-post-brexit-uk)
Honey G’s X Factor act isn’t funny. It’s modern-day blackface
“H to the O to the N to the E to the Y to the G; it’s Honey G,” bellowed the X Factor contestant Anna Gilford. Her performance of Tupac Shakur’s California Love was dedicated to her people in the “ends”. In case you’re wondering, that would be Harrow in north-west London, or as G calls it, “North Weezy”.
So what can Saturday night terrestrial TV tell us about race in the UK post-Brexit? Last weekend, Strictly Come Dancing was in full swing on BBC1 as contestants cha-cha-chaed their way to a racism row. ITV, on the other hand, had me slack-jawed at the modern-day minstrel show being so gleefully performed by Ms G.
Here were all the hallmarks of the originals from over 150 years ago; the appropriation of black cultural production; the demeaning obsession with black (in this case male) bodies exemplified by thrusting hips and grabbed crotches; and, last but by no means least, the raucous laughter.
From the judges to the studio audience and Twitter users who wanted to prove their individuality by liking something ironically, the amusement seemed to swell, becoming a “new national craze among mums and nans”, as the Mirror reported. The Sun declared that Honey G had “won over fans” with a performance that was “surprisingly entertaining”. “They saved the best for last! Honey G dazzles viewers as she closes first X Factor live show” ran the Daily Mail’s headline. Dazzled is a synonym of stunned, I guess. At least music magazine NME spared some time in asking if “The X Factor’s ‘Genuine Urban Artist’ Honey G is for real?”
In all the coverage and reaction to this woman’s representation of blackness, there was no comment on how reductive her caricature is. Apparently Honey G is just funny and nothing else. Wrong.
Honey G is a symbol of how race operates in the UK. Taken at face value, she is a less-than-mediocre rapper whose subpar performances have nevertheless lobbed her into the limelight. Or she’s a recruitment manager who has decided to create a persona for entertainment’s sake. In the case of the former, I’d say that we’ll know when we’ve reached true equality when black and minority ethnic people can be successful on less-than-middling talent and effort.
If Honey isn’t just another hapless X Factor stock character, the novelty act retained as watercooler fodder because “she’s so terrible but people keep voting her in!”, then this is about a significant section of the viewing public enjoying playing a role in demeaning black culture. And no, that’s not the same as saying Eminem isn’t allowed to rap because he’s white. No one who has listened to that artist can say his place in hip-hop history isn’t deserved. But then what is audible in his work is humility and respect for the music. There’s no trace of either trait in Gilford’s act.
Before Saturday’s performance, Honey invited us into her home or what she called her “crib”. Get it? The parody continued, emphasising her level of wealth, not by showing us her Bugatti or Lamborghini, but instead her “two kettles … and an electric bin”. I now, at least, have a relatable example of bathos used for comedic effect to share with my literature students. Honey G or the show’s producers may well want to ridicule the ostentatious show of wealth many rappers who graced MTV Cribs displayed, but perhaps they might think twice if they had walked in their shoes as black men from the American underclass.
Last week Donald Trump defended his “lewd comments” (what others not busy mincing their words call sexual harassment) by playing the “it’s only bantz” card. “Just a little bit of harmless fun” is the go-to of those crossing a line predicated on the teller not being the butt of their own jokes.
Honey G’s tinfoil gold tracksuit, shades and florid hand gestures betray what the whole act is about: a caricature of blackness as stupid and illicit. If it is not how Gilford herself intended it, it’s certainly the subtext of her affectations. In a Sun exclusive quoting Stephanie Jones, a former university friend of Gilford’s, we can clearly hear the racist undertones of Honey’s performances coming through. Jones “reveals” that “the kind of persona [Gilford] is putting on on The X Factor is very dumbed down”. Gilford is actually “very well spoken” and “smart” and “comes from a decent background”, as though blackness is the antithesis of all listed above. Is that Gilford’s intent or merely her audience’s response to her act? Whichever it is, it remains offensive.
The X factor judge Louis Walsh gushed that Tupac “would be happy” with Honey G’s performance. No, the son of Black Panther activists would not happy. Anyone caring to face facts would see this for what it is: modern-day blackface.
The Guardian (https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2016/oct/11/honey-g-x-factor-blackface-novelty-rapper-post-brexit-uk)