Missoula: Unveiling the Patriarchal Patterns That Precipitate And/Or Coincide Sexual Assault
Missoula: Rape and the Justice System in a College Town recently celebrated its 10th anniversary. In using the term “celebrated,” I am referring to the fact that the text has existed for over a decade. Since texts–both fictional and nonfictional–regarding the reality of rape have been written since this time, one might wonder why I selected what some might perceive to be an ostensibly antiquated treatise about the Missoula rape trials specifically and sexual abuse generally. The reasons are many, and one of them is to quietly (and respectfully) combat individuals and ideologies which, perhaps in an attempt to uphold and promote positive logic regarding how various “feminist,” liberal and/or left-leaning groups are winning the war against women, continue to either ignore the reality of rape and other ugly integral elements of male supremacy or falsely assert that, through the passing of time, attitudes regarding the abuse and objectification of women have slowly evolved to reflect growing assent to the idea that female people are fundamentally equal to male people. The perpetuation of this flawed logic likely plays an integral role in the perpetuation of patriarchy because such thinking subtly and oftentimes subconsciously promotes the idea that, since male supremacy is mostly an ideological apparatus with ever-decreasing dimensions of power in a contemporary landscape marked by female empowerment and advancement within every sector of society, there’s not necessarily much work left to do regarding the import and impact of misogynist rationale. Nothing could be further from the case, and examining the sexist ideologies exposed within Missoula enables radical feminist thinkers to note how patriarchal patterns continue to replicate themselves throughout the passing of time such that, rather than hyper-simplistically concluding that things just keep getting better and better as far as the feminist movement is concerned, what we are actually witnessing is an ongoing battle marked by the attempt to dehumanize, degrade, and disorient women into positions of disempowerment. It’s disquieting to understand that this–male supremacy continually rearing its surreptitious head and maintaining primacy in the contemporary zeitgeist despite the passing of time–is actually what’s going on. Yet this is indeed actually what’s going on and it is therefore a reality that radical feminists should pay attention to given our proclivity to remain grounded in the material world when analyzing what patriarchy is actually doing. In reviewing Missoula, I hope readers can recognize how patriarchal patterns operate and perpetuate themselves so we can begin devising real solutions that engender tangible freedom in the material world.
Missoula begins with a description of police detectives arriving at Office Solutions, a company run by Kevin Huguet. The detectives arrive for the purpose of speaking with his daughter, Allison Huguet, and Kevin becomes distraught in an attempt to figure out the nature of their discourse. As the narrative progresses, the detectives inform Allison that she should tell her father what is going on. Allison subsequently states that she has been raped. First shocked and confused, Kevin’s emotive response evolves into an apoplectic rage that is ostensibly palpable given Allison’s assertion that “I thought he was going to find Beau and kill him or something” (4). The description of Kevin’s ire moves into a representation of the interrogative slant he takes in response to recognition of the reality that his daughter has been raped. “Who thinks,” he asks, “their daughter’s trusted friend is actually a monster who is going to hurt them in the night?” (5).
Following the opening scene, readers are exposed to a plethora of disorienting details which convey both the reality of her rape and the dissonant, disquieting impact it has. The events unfold as a spate of alarming occurrences, perhaps beginning with Allison receiving a call from her friend Keely Williams regarding a party at Beau Donaldson’s. Allison had been friends with Beau since first grade and this would be a fun event where she and their other childhood friends could reunite. Shortly thereafter, Williams and Huguet would return to the universities they’d been attending. When they arrived at Donaldson’s house, they reunited with old friends. At the party, people played beer pong and engaged in a drinking game called Twisted Tea, but these events did not present themselves as immediately problematic to Allison. Because she and Williams had been drinking, a friend encouraged them to spend the night on the couch rather than driving home, and they agreed. After going to sleep on the couch, Huguet woke up to find herself lying face down with her jeans and underwear pulled down. She recalled waking up “to Beau moaning, and a lot of pressure and pain” (14) and understood that she was being penetrated from behind with Beau’s penis. These events were terrifying and led to Allison resolving to keep her eyes shut “and wait for him to finish” (14). Things were not over when he did “finish,” after which “he tugged her jeans partly up, threw the blanket over her, and walked away without saying a word” (14). After putting her clothes back on as effectively as she could in light of the fact that Beau had mangled the zipper to her jeans, she ran out of the house and speed-dialed her boyfriend. She didn’t receive an answer and proceeded to call her mother. Shortly after this, she realized that Beau was chasing her as she ran.
While some aspects of Allison Huguet’s rape have the type of disturbing impact one locates when exposed to the highly specific and unique realities that unfold in context of sexual assault (such as her request that a friend go to Donaldson’s home and slash the tires of his truck), other elements of her case are disorienting because they reflect a pattern which is prevalent–if not pervasive–when women attempt to articulate the sexualized violence that they endure. One such pattern is the attempt to transform rape into sex, and this pernicious process transpired in context of Allison’s violation. Specifically, her sister Kathleen noted that one of their acquaintances was informing people that Allison and Beau had sex (29). For several years, I have pondered the reason why turning rape into sex remains an integral part of patriarchal processes, and I have drawn two conclusions. First, turning rape into sex ensures that men who rape women are not subjected to legal penalties and social scrutiny. Second, transforming sexual assault into consensual intercourse enables people to imagine away the reality that rape is a persistent epidemic which reflects not just rare or nonexistent violations of individuals but rather the systematic abuse of swaths of women. Together, these outcomes of transforming rape into sex make the reality of sexual assault seem miniscule when, in reality, it is a disturbingly profound and common problem.
As Missoula continues to unfold, the reader is exposed to narrative after narrative of men violating women and women having the truth inverted, obscured, obliterated, and obfuscated such that the text’s opening, which conveyed the sexual abuse Allison endured at the hands of Beau Donaldson, becomes the template for the pattern of assaults that transpire throughout the rest of the work. In Chapter Six, the reader learns of Kerry Barrett, a then-senior at the University of Montana. After surviving a sexual assault which involved a male named Zeke Adams not only attempting to press his penis into her vagina while she was asleep but also yanking her pants back down when she attempted to pull them up (59), Barrett fled the apartment and informed a friend of what had happened. They sobbed together. When reporting the event to the police, however, Barrett did not find the type of sympathy and consolation conveyed by the shared sentiment of hysteria and anxiety which sobbing suggests. Rather, she was met with oppositional ideas and observations such as those submitted by officer Brian Vreeland who, in considering Barrett’s recollection of events, stated “...since no one saw you, and you were fooling around before it happened, it’s hard to really prove anything” (60). Additionally, Vreeland asked her if she had a boyfriend and after she responded no and sought to determine why he’d asked the question, he responded with something like “Well, sometimes girls cheat on their boyfriends, and regret it, and then claim they were raped” (60). When Zeke Adams came to the police station to present his interpretation of events, Detective Merifield asserted that “I think this is just a big misunderstanding…” (63) and went on to assert that “If there were charges, I would only recommend misdemeanor charges” (63). Herein lies the perpetuation of the problematic pattern which ensures that patriarchy remains intact. The pattern lies not only in the minimization and misinterpretation of rape (just a misunderstanding), but also in the deemphasis of the magnitude of sexual assault through the assignment of minimal, if any repercussions.
As is almost always the case when the patriarchy is present, things become progressively worse as the text unfolds. I say “progressively worse” because each detailed account reflects the pattern of individuals and societies consistently failing to respond appropriately to the reality of rape, and every narrative therefore functions as more hideous evidence that people operate out of inaccuracy, apathy, and ignorance when sexual assault reveals itself to be an operative entity within their communities. Chapter Seven unfolds with a transition from Barrett’s sexual assault and its mishandling to her learning of another woman’s rape. Specifically, Kaitlynn Kelly informs Kerry Barrett that she had been raped. The details of the story are noxious and gruesome, with the rape involving a male named Calvin Smith violently penetrating Kelly’s vagina after she fell asleep (72). After she tells him no multiple times, he proceeds to anally rape her with his fingers. Following this, he forces Kelly to perform fellatio on him while she is in pain and gagging (73). Although reading and reflecting on these acts of sexual violence is deeply disturbing, what is perhaps even more disorienting is that, after Smith leaves the dorm where the assault occurs, he takes Kelly’s pants with him. Apparently, the text informs us, he takes them as “a trophy of his conquest” (75). Yet even as evidence of the assault itself and Smith’s attitude about it abounded, criminal charges are not filed against him. Kelly’s story parallels Barrett’s in this way, given that the latter woman’s case was listed as “unfounded” (67).
The ugly awry pattern of men raping women continues with the harrowing narrative of Cecilia Washburn. The events leading up to her rape by Jordan Johnson are somewhat normative and include intermittent dating which came to conclusion with both parties pursuing other romantic interests. The two, however, began texting one another following the end of Washburn’s relationship. Although the textual communications were initially described as “friendly and flirty” (148), their interactions eventually devolved into the disturbingly unsurprising patriarchal pattern marked by the absence of mutual exchange and presence of a male telling a woman what to do and also rephrasing what she says to fit within the narrative he unilaterally creates. Events began to take a negative turn when Johnson texted Washburn to request that she come to his place and then drive them to her place so that they could watch a movie. The request was made in part because Johnson had been drinking and did not view driving as a prudent course of action. After Washburn agreed and picked him up, they returned to her house and she introduced Johnson to one of her teammates. They then commenced watching the movie. Shortly after this, Washburn and Johnson kissed. Washburn then told Johnson that they should just watch the movie. Johnson complied, but later turned towards her and the kissing resumed. Washburn then tried to pull Johnson’s shirt up and she pulled it back down. According to the text, she eventually let Johnson remove the shirt and took his off. However, the activity ceased being consensual when Johnson started kissing her aggressively and rolled on top of her. At this point, Washburn repeatedly indicated that she was not interested in moving further, but Johnson sat over her, to use her words, “kind of like a gorilla” (152). Her lack of consent became yet more evident when he pinned her down by placing his left arm across her shoulders and, after he took her leggings and underwear off, she stated “No! Not tonight!” (152). Additionally, Washburn tried to hold her legs together and “raised her knees against his hips in an attempt to push him away” (152). Their interaction becomes increasingly nonconsensual as Washburn’s recollection of events unfolds. Johnson commands Washburn to turn over onto her stomach; Washburn refuses. Johnson then states “Turn over, or I’ll make you” (152). At this point, he flips her over. As he rapes her, he repeats the phrase “You said you wanted it!” Presumably, this statement is an inversion of an assertion which Washburn made to Jordan previously at a party: “Jordy, I would do you anytime” (149). The glaring disparity between Washburn’s assertion and Jordan’s perversion of it is plain. For someone to assert that they would be willing to engage in consensual sex with someone at any time cannot and should not be conflated with the reality of the other individual independently deciding when and how the intercourse should transpire and subsequently preceding into it without the other party’s consent. Yet this is exactly what Jordan did, with his own mental justification for raping Washburn ostensibly being linked to his understanding that she had previously expressed interest in mutually agreed upon intercourse. In reading Jordan’s statement that Washburn said she “wanted it,” one can see the patriarchal pattern of rape (what he actually did) turning into sex (what he said he did).
Despite Jordan’s attempt to invert and pervert Washburn’s language to reflect the false version of events he sought to maintain, her verbal articulations regarding what transpired remain the most meaningful. In addition to saying that the process of being raped left her feeling like she had been “hit with a baseball bat” (153), she construed the unwanted activity in terms of a “nightmare” (153). Washburn’s text to her roommate immediately following the rape also reflected both her lack of consent and construal of events in definitively negative terms. Specifically, she texted Stephen Green the following: “I think I might have just gotten raped. He kept pushing and pushing and I said no but he wouldn’t listen…I just wanna cry…omg what do I do!” (153).
Although some of the public responses to the plethora of rapes in Missoula is hopeful, the majority of them reflect the communal, consistent pattern of sexual assault not being taken seriously enough to warrant ongoing, meaningful repercussions for the assailants. In recognizing the pattern of several Missoula rapes being committed my members of the Griz football team, one fan posted on an internet forum called eGriz.com:
“Last year I took my two three-year old girls to a few of the games, and I was looking forward to trying to make it to all of the games with them this next fall. But now, I am thinking that I will find something else to do with them this fall…It is hard to root for players when you just can’t trust that they are decent people” (160).
In response to this post, another Griz fan posted “Please don’t come to any more games. This is nothing more than a witch hunt” (160). In utilizing the phrase “witch hunt,” the response to the original post conveys an undesirably quotidian approach to analyzing rape: assume that the accusations are merely false claims designed to malign the innocent while ostracizing individuals who are willing to engage the idea that the sexual assaults have actually transpired and warrant action. The “this is a witch hunt” response, when operating in consonance with the legal domain’s consistent disregard of cases replete with evidence that sexual assault transpired, exists in continuity with the aforementioned patriarchal pattern of rape turning into sex. Either the rapes never happened and innocent victims are being turned into malevolent, witch-like entities, or consensual sex happened and was inappropriately misappropriated as sexual assault. Thus, as made evident by many of the men accused of rape and much of society, including police officers who dismiss victims with their words, the sexual assaults could not have happened. According to patriarchal logic, something else–misunderstandings or malevolent plots of people pretending to be victims–might have transpired. Yet rape is, according to the dominant narrative, not what actually happens. This narrative of dominance exists in consonance with the way patriarchy consistently operates, with this operation involving the ability of men (and male apologists) to determine what reality is irrespective of divergent viewpoints, material occurrences, and voices which clearly and incontrovertibly convey that this dominant construal of events, ideas, and circumstances is somehow flawed or fallacious.
In summation, the patriarchal patterns that precipitate and/or coincide rape–which include but are not limited to the rapists turning rape into sex with the reinvention of material reality and words as well as communal assent to blame the victim or assume that any other sexual configuration but rape transpires when someone proceeds to publicly enunciate that they have been sexually assaulted–do not give rise to the hope that one wants to have regarding the value of life and how humans respond within social frameworks that require cooperation for the process of living to unfold productively. Despite the prevalence and pervasiveness of patriarchal power, male supremacy is not a seamless, impenetrable entity. Male supremacy’s vulnerability to contestation is made evident by Allison Huguet’s assailant receiving a sentence of 30 years in the Montana State Prison. However, this outcome is not the norm and readers shouldn’t look to it as evidence of justice consistently materializing in the face of rape. Rather, they should carefully consider the outcome of Washburn’s trial. After Cecilia Washburn decided to take her case to court in the attempt to pursue justice, the jury unanimously found Johnson not guilty. In response to the reading of this verdict, “raucous cheering filled the courtroom” (329). The energized nature of this response is particularly disheartening because it reflects that the emotive and psychic states of the individuals who simply could not believe that rape happens were deeply impacted and influenced by an ideological slant that, in my opinion, could not align with reason and empathy. Ultimately, the accusations against the victims, including one woman’s assertion that Washburn is “the little woman who lied about rape” (363), suggest that the patriarchal pattern of discrediting female voices and assenting to male interpretations of reality–irrespective of how irrational and ungrounded in reality they are–is alive and kicking vigorously. Since this is the case, ongoing analysis and undermining of this aspect of male supremacy remains an important, integral part of radical resistance to men dominating women.
- Jocelyn Crawley
Work Cited: Krakauer, Jon. Missoula: Rape and the Justice System in a College Town. Anchor Books, 2015