I think that "privacy" is to contemporary female art what "obscenity" was to male art and literature of the 1960s. The willingness of someone to use her life as primary material is still deeply disturbing, and even more so if she views her own experience at some remove. There is no problem with female confession providing it is made within a repentant therapeutic narrative. But to examine things cooly, to thrust experience out of one's own brain and put it on the table, is still too confrontational.
I LOVE this. And thinking about taboo, how I've been met with dis-ease regarding my fiction(al) projects that utilize experience as material, although often at the remove Chris is writing about. And thinking about how so many contemporary writers I love do this too - Lidia Yuknavitch, Chris Kraus, Dodie Bellamy.