Why “Diva Drivel”?
When the title “Diva Drivel” occurred to me as a potential name for this blog, I was torn because while I liked the pithy alliteration, I feared that it wasn’t expansive enough. I want to use this space to write about my other loves—film, literature, television, etc.—even when there isn’t a diva at the heart of the story. I am a student of English literature, and as many of my peers may do in times of trouble, I consulted the Oxford English Dictionary for a bit of clarity on the subject of divas, with the hope that the word could be applied more broadly to more than just virtuosic female singers.
As it turns out, the online OED includes two definitions for “diva”:
A distinguished female singer, a prima donna.
A person, typically a woman, who is self-important, temperamental, and extremely demanding.
Because many divas of the first sort are infamous for their difficult reputation, there is some slippage between the two definitions. The first definition is derived from the Italian diva (goddess, lady-love, “fine lady”) and the Latin dīva (goddess, female divinity), which is the feminine version of dīvus (divine, god, deity). As language evolved, however, the second definition is used more commonly—a twisted pejorative, perhaps born out of the resentment of female genius.
As I considered the peculiar tension between these two definitions, I stumbled upon the common figure that tied together the stories and personages I was passionate about: the middle-aged or aging woman. Couldn’t one say that every woman of a certain age is a diva? There is a point in every woman’s life when she ages out of desirability in the eyes of men and consequently loses the ability to stand her ground without risking being called “self-important,” “temperamental,” or “demanding.” These complicated characters who elicit the scorn, ridicule, annoyance, or outright dismissal of men who do not recognize their full personhood invariably draw me in.
Now, aside from beginning with the same consonant as “diva,” I find “drivel” (as the OED defines it, “idiotic utterance; silly nonsense; twaddle”) to be a suitable word to follow “diva” and describe what I want to write about for two reasons. First, it matches my assessment of my own work, which I am reticent to endorse as anything more than a series of idiotic utterances. Second, and more important, it is a contemptuous gesture toward a certain tradition of treating the realm of divas, camp, and anything claimed by women and queer people as juvenile and not worthy of critical attention.
I hope to use this platform to write at least twice a month about some piece of culture that intersects with one of these interests—divas, camp, queerness, lowbrow art, and the stories of older women. I implore you to join me on this journey as I navigate these realms in search of transgression and truth.
