Even so, I developed a new affection for her, likely influenced by the looming possibility of Jesse’s departure. Jesse doesn’t pretend to be the quintessential woman. She shares little in common with the almost-perfect Alexa, aside from the deep, resonant voice of authority that Laurie Anderson masterfully crafted in her 1980s music and speeches. (Anderson channels an enigmatic papal craftsman, perhaps a retired geology professor. “There are a few things that can be examined easily, such as the expanse of Greenland, the famous dates of the 19th century rubber conflict, Persian adjectives, snow composition, and more. I could hear Jesse mimicking some stereotypes of women, oscillating between technology and deliberate artifice.)
In fact, let’s explore many other female voices produced by modern media. One commonly heard female voice in Japanese anime unsettles me physically. Even more astonishing is the voice of the much-admired Internet Trad Wife, soft, gentle, and calm; she sifts through the wheat and chaff concerning her children. Do they play with obedience against the backdrop of death? – Quietly handling the sticks behind the lens. Former Christian fundamentalist wife and mother, Tia Levings, has garnered a substantial following on TikTok. Notably, her prior “Fund Voice” — breathtaking and high-pitched — draws inspiration from a 1963 book titled “Attractive Woman.” Meanwhile, a new generation of women learns to cultivate the same voice, accentuated by videos that feature soft lighting.
As many sociologists caution, when pornography in the digital era becomes distorted, young men’s perceptions of what an ideal sex life resembles may skew the notion of how a woman’s voice should sound. AI potentially creates a dizzying feedback loop of these authentic female voices, perhaps even those with the most substantial followings, from which it likely learns, rather than roaring.
As the mother of two teenage boys, I’ve grown accustomed to various noises from their basement escapades. However, when silence was abruptly disrupted by my son yelling loudly during a Fortnite battle, I was surprised. It fascinates me that my son, like many dedicated Fortnite players, opted for what he refers to as a female skin for his avatar. This choice reflects that from around the age of 11, he immersed himself in closely identifying with powerful female characters who facilitate shooting, evading, and outsmarting his opponents. Perhaps he chose female avatars at a younger age, emulating older players he admired; or perhaps they select female skins for their faceless nature, as the game requires hours of staring at the back of that avatar (which is notably rounded and toned for some female skins). Nonetheless, I was equally intrigued by another aspect of his Fortnite avatar—its relation to her and her friends.
These avatars are like remote cousins to the female TikTok influencers who mirror Jesse. I can argue that the influencers who narrate Jesse in their videos use technology to quiet their true selves. The essential elements of their humanity are entirely absent, revealing only their youthful façades to thousands of followers.
However, I reconsider my perspective and arrive at a different conclusion. Perhaps in selecting Jesse, they discover means to shield themselves and assert subtle claims of power. Their voices remain private, allowing the world to perceive only that. Jesse might be irritating, but she seems unfazed. This could explain why many women embrace her in her endless “get ready with me” videos. Jesse is loud and unapologetic. She is a pill, yet wholly artificial, far exceeding any male validation.
Source: www.nytimes.com
