Swearing exists, and the more fear and consternation you build up for it, the more you empower it. What I take umbrage with is those who faint like Southern belles at the utterance of a swear word due only to polite society mannerisms. What I object to is an automatic, unexamined self-censorship–one that is knee-jerk or externally applied, rather than being motivated by genuine engagement with one’s conscience and convictions. There’s nothing wrong with arriving at personal boundaries based on genuine soul-searching and self-awareness.
And I understand that harsh, graphic violence can be even harder to take.
I have some sympathy for those who just can’t handle repeated volleys of f-bombs and the other assorted curses highlighted by George Carlin. But in this seedy world, people are going to swear without remorse, which touches on the first issue, and treat each other badly, which touches on the second. Most of us do not live in an environment of rigged boxing matches and killers for hire. Wallace and Pumpkin and Honey Bunny are lowly bank robbers who have their eye on restaurant stick-ups. The world of Pulp Fiction is not our world, featuring a cast of various criminal elements: Vincent and Jules are the enforcers for crime boss Marsellus Wallace Butch is a boxer who’s instructed to throw the fight for Mr. The thing that is so mystifying to me is why they would hate a film with such strong Christian themes. I don’t know the religious affiliations of my disappointed classmates, but several people I’ve been speaking to recently, specifically Christians, have commented along similar lines. The most oft-repeated complaints: the copious amounts of swearing and violence.
When one of my undergrad classes watched the film, about half the class didn’t like it. Among cinema fans you’d be harder pressed to find such sentiments, but out in the wider world such antipathy is surprisingly common. Much to my dismay, there are people who don’t like Quentin Tarantino’s masterpiece Pulp Fiction.
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