Paradigms, Paradox, and Parody:

The conflict over gender, sexuality, narrative, and embodiment in

Leslie Feinberg’s Stone Butch Blues

Cierra Olivia Thomas-Williams

Founding Feminist Debates
Final Paper – Summer 2006
 Due June 17, 2007

Judith Halberstam in Female Maculinity (FM) and Jay Prosser in “No Place Like

Home: The Transgendered Narrative of Leslie Feinberg’s ‘Stone Butch Blues’” maintain

an intense adversarial engagement over interpretations of scenes in Leslie Feinberg’s

Stone Butch Blues: A Novel (SBB).1 One fundamental similarity in each of these

scholar’s arguments over SBB is their reliance upon the 1990 work of philosopher Judith

Butler in Gender Trouble, which Halberstam and Prosser both use to mediate discussion

about narrative and sexed and gendered bodies. This short paper will revisit two

particular contestatory scenes in SBB that both Halberstam and Prosser repeatedly cite to

provide an “updated” or alternative reading of SBB. This essay will also rely upon the

intercessions of Butler using her 2004 work Undoing Gender.2 Finally, this paper will

analyze a scene in Feinberg’s novel left previously unexamined in the scholarship in an

effort to further complicate current discussions about narrative, sex, gender, sexuality,

and embodiment.

The Novel

Stone Butch Blues: A Novel, written in 1993, is about one person’s journey in and

through life and gendered identities. Jess Goldberg is the protagonist who self-labels as a

he-she, or “stone butch,” a “complicated and complex” embodiment, a tangle of gender

and a sexuality that do not coincide with standard social norms of masculinity,

femininity, and heterosexuality. “He-she” may be too static of a gendered pronoun to

label Jess with, but for lack of a better pronoun for the protagonist and the character’s

1
Judith Halberstam, Female Masculinity, (Durham: Duke University Press, 1998); and Jay Prosser, “No
Place Like Home: The Transgendered Narrative of Leslie Feinberg’s ‘Stone Butch Blues,’” Modern Fiction
Studies, 41:3/4 (1995: Fall/Winter), 483-514; and Leslie Feinberg, Stone Butch Blues: A Novel, (Ithaca,
NY: Firebrand Books, 1993).
2
Judith Butler, Undoing Gender, (New York: Routledge, 2004).

Thomas-Williams 2
own willingness to use such a label, Jess will be referred to as transgendered or, when it

is necessary to use a pronoun, as him-her or he-she. This self described and embodied

“blending of gender characteristics” is what singles Jess Goldberg out for the perils

associated with being the embodiment of the “other” in relation to socially

(hetero)normative gender and sexual (erotic) identities.3

Jess Goldberg, the protagonist, was biologically categorized at birth as a girl who

later refused traditional femininity who, then, ejected from her family, became a woman

identified woman (a woman who erotically loves other women). Jess begins to identify

as a stone butch due to violent life experiences brought on by her gendered and sexual

“otherness” and learns about this persona through mentoring from elder stone butches she

meets. As a result of his-her “otherness” Jess is raped by police and physically assaulted

by homophobic people throughout the narrative.4 As a result of “being trapped” both by

his-her body and by social stigma about her embodiment of “otherness” in his-her gender

and sexuality, Jess can never stay in one place or in one “identity” for very long; this is

exemplified in the text by the character’s continual movement from place to place,

Buffalo to New York, for example, and through gendered personas. At one point Jess

chooses to pass as a man to survive and avoid further rape, sexual assault, physical

assault—genderbashing.5

“Genderbashing,” a phrase coined by transsexual scholar Viviane Namaste, is the

name for violence perpetrated at gendered and sexualized “others” usually due to

homophobia, and may be a response to what Namaste in calls an “invasion” of public

3
Feinberg, 120.
4
Ibid., 224.
5
Susan Stryker and Stephen Whittle, The Transgender Studies Reader, (New York: Routledge, 2006) 588-
589.

Thomas-Williams 3
space by non-normative people.6 Because transgendered people are non-normative in the

expression of their gender (explicit roles and behaviors attributed to men and women

based upon their “biological sex”) they are perceived as a threat to normative societal

structures. Namaste claims that many transsexuals are victims of violence due to the

conflation of their gender identities (how they identify themselves) into a perceived

homosexual (same sex partner relations) reading, which then threatens the heterosexual

norm; she argues that both public and private spaces are policed by gender norms

upholding “the binary opposition between men and women” that is intimately intertwined

in the ideology of the heterosexual paradigm.7 People who fall outside of the socially

sanctioned standard for gender are targeted for violence because they threaten the

structured state of heteronormative behavior. Thus, in order to survive Jess’s masculine

(stone butch) gender “identity” must match up with his-her erotic desire for feminine

women.

To aid the process of passing Jess decides to take male hormones and get a double

mastectomy so that his-her outward appearance will better resemble a male body. The

idea is that his-her body will “coincide” with a more normative “masculine” appearance

once the hormones lower his-her voice and change his-her phonotypical gender

presentation. However, after nearly ten years of passing as a man, Jess ceases taking

hormones and undergoes electrolysis to remove facial hair to return to an ambiguous

between, he-she, gendered state.8 Jess Goldberg, then, as a transgendered person is

characterized by movement. He-she is the label for Jess’s continually transitive gendered

embodiment and role (or identity) that is a result of pressure to conform by social norms

6
Ibid., 589.
7
Stryker, 587, 590.
8
Feinberg, 221-222.

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and regulations (choosing to pass as a man to survive). However, being a transgendered

person in SBB is a continually active agential type of resistance (ceasing the hormone

treatments) to the silencing of “others” in the heteronormative patriarchy that entraps

everyone.

The Paradigm and a Pivotal Moment

This reading of SBB as a transgendered narrative, according to Prosser, has the

effect of falsely “mobilizing gender as a category, unsticking it from the sexed body, and

enabling sex itself to become unfixed from its designated location as origin of gendered

identity.”9 The novel, however, fails to do this and, according to Prosser, SBB fails to

“pass” as fiction and as a transgendered narrative; Prosser claims that there is an

insistence on the specter of home—a narrative end to both the gendered journey and the

text itself.10 Although the main character, Jess Goldberg, wrestles with many identity

issues and even engages with the medical process usually followed by those looking to

“transition” from one biological body to another (from women to man for example), he-

she eventually ceases the hormone therapy in an acceptance of his-her in-between

imperfect body: his-her “complicated” embodiment as a “he-she.”11

This moment in SBB is marked in the scholarship as pivotal by scholars who

argue over the issue of transgenderism and transsexuality as gendered identities and the

repercussions of using the narrative genre of “the novel” to embody the story of Jess

Goldberg whose life closely parallels that of the author Leslie Feinberg. Because the text

parallels to the lived embodiment of its author Leslie Feinberg, the novel is pigeonholed

in the genre of “transsexual autobiography” by Prosser in “No Place Like Home” and

9
Prosser, 485;
10
Ibid., 490, 495, 503.
11
Feinberg, 221-222.

Thomas-Williams 5
also by transsexual scholar Viviane Namaste—who rails against Feinberg’s “negative”

portrayal of transsexuality—in Sex Change, Social Change: Reflections on Identity,

Institutions, and Imperialism.12

Namaste, echoing transsexual scholar Max Valerio, read this moment in the text

(Goldberg’s decision to cease taking testosterone) as a harmful to transsexuals claiming

this pivotal moment in the text (and in Jess’s life) negatively reflects on transsexuals in

“reality”; however, at no time in the novel is transsexuality portrayed negatively or

undesirable by the protagonist.13 Furthermore, Jess never claims an allegiance with any

one particular gender identity. Prosser, more accurately than Namaste, characterizes this

moment in the text as a “failure” to pass for the character of Jess who no longer

recognizes who he-she is “as a man.” Rather than continue to “fake” it, Jess decides to

cease the passing process. Prosser also argues, though, because of this moment that

Fienberg’s novel is a “transsexual” autobiography and not a work of fiction, therefore, as

a novel the narrative itself is a “failure to pass.”

To make this critique of SBB in his essay, Prosser de-contextualizes text about

Jess’s musings on Rocco’s (a stone butch elder) “fantastic tale” of gender transitioning.14

Readers who have not read SBB themselves are, therefore, unaware that Jess repeatedly

characterizes Rocco as a woman even after his female-to-male transition.15 Upon being

reunited with one of her most beloved mentors, Jess reflects upon the phenomenon of

genderbashing: “Rocco had been beaten up so many times nobody could count”; thus

Jess wondered to his-herself “what kind of courage was required to leave the sex you’d

12
Viviane Namaste, Sex Change, Social Change: Reflections on Identity, Institutions, and Imperialism,
(Toronto: Women’s Press, 2005).
13
Ibid., 19; in fact, Jess feels more “at home” with all gendered “others.”
14
Ibid., 95; and Prosser, 500.
15
Feinberg, 95.

Thomas-Williams 6
always known?”16 Prosser marks this instant in the text, “I wonder what kind of courage

was required to leave the sex you’d always known,” as the moment when Jess decides to

transition; however, Prosser’s readers are unaware that a series of events leads to a

realization that Jess will be “safer” passing as a man (rather than feeling more “at home”

in a man’s body).17 In effect, because Prosser decontextualizes the text and

misappropriates the subject of Jess’s thoughts about Rocco to his-herself, Prosser’s

readers believe Jess is considering a sex change for him-her self. Prosser actually skips

fifty pages of context in order to claim the text is a “transsexual narrative,” thus a novel

that “fails to pass,” due to the parallel to Feinberg’s own life.

In context with the rest of the story, this moment is about the wonderment of the

manipulability of gender, Jess’s love for his-her mentor, and the coercion of the threat of

violence and death in a heteronormative patriarchy. Prosser mischaracterizes Jess’s

wondering about Rocco as his-her own musings about transsexuality, which includes

seeking a home in his-her own body and an end to the gendered journey. To further drive

the point home to his readers, Prosser refers to the moment when Jess decides not to

inject the hormones any longer as the moment that “ends her passing before she reaches

home as a man in the world.”18 Thus, authorized by this mischaracterization, Prosser,

claims the novel fails to illustrate a truly “transgendered” (always mobile) experience and

limits the text to the genre of transsexual autobiography. Similarly, Prosser then uses a

similar argument to critique the work of Judith Halberstam.

Prosser critically assesses Halberstam’s attempt to re-characterize the “female-to-

male transsexual narrative into a postmodern queer text” in her work F2M: The Making

16
Ibid.
17
Ibid., 144.
18
Prosser, 500.

Thomas-Williams 7
of Female Masculinity (the book preceding Female Masculinity).19 This particular

methodology is characterized by a “queerness” that is typified by fluidity and motion,

like the prefix “trans” in the words transitive or transgendered. However, according to

Prosser, Halberstam fails to illustrate this in her work:

“For even though [F2M] is an identity that loosens up the definitions, the
F2M in Halberstam’s representation is ‘still’ lesbian, not male but,
according to her title, ‘female masculinity’; the F2M is thus, femaleness
which doubles as masculinity (‘2’), one sex which masquerades as the
gendered other.”20

Essentially, Prosser’s criticism is that Halberstam fetishizes or reifies masculinity. Thus

F2M fails to reach postmodern status as a transitive, continually mobile, queer

postmodern project and female masculinity (as Halberstam envisions it) also fails as a

deconstructive narrative.21

Halberstam, in FM three years later, engages with Prosser’s criticisms of her work

in a face off about the meaning of gender and textual embodiment in Feinberg’s novel

SBB. Halberstam’s own criticism of Prosser’s text is that Prosser

“pits queer theory against transgender identity in a polemic: queer theory

represents gender within some notion of postmodern fluidity and
fragmentation, but transgender theory eschews such theoretical freefall
and focuses instead on ‘subjective experience.’”22

Halberstam’s point of contention with Prosser, thus, is not his de-contextualization of

Jess’s “transition” or “passing” experience, as discussed above, but with his misreading

of Jess’s feeling of being “trapped”—by society, by his-her body, by his-her poverty—

within a “transsexual paradigm.” 23 Thus, Prosser misused this paradigm to make his

19
Ibid., 486.
20
Prosser, 487-488.
21
Ibid., 488.
22
Halberstam, 147; quoting Prosser, 490.
23
Halberstam, 148; referring to Prosser, 490.

Thomas-Williams 8
point that transsexuals (and transsexual narratives) are characterized by the transition

from one place to a home in another.

To support this claim, Halberstam reinterprets the same pivotal moment that

Prosser uses to characterize SBB as a transsexual narrative, the moment when Jess refuses

to continue to inject male hormones, to discredit Prosser’s reading of SBB. Halberstam

argues “when the main character, Jess Goldberg, chooses to halt his transition from

female to male, we see the necessary insufficiency of binary gender rather than the

solidity of transsexual identification.”24 What is clear in Halberstam’s reading of this

pivotal moment in Feinberg’s text, however, is Halberstam’s very own refusal to allow

Jess or the text to float freely in the postmodern queer paradigm that Halberstam lays

claim to (and which Prosser criticizes her earlier work for). Halberstam insinuates that

Goldberg ceases transforming or becoming by using the words “halt his transition,” and

thus, reinstates the boundaries of masculinity as residing in a male body (symbolized by

using the male pronoun). However, despite both of these scholar’s interpretations, Jess

never claims that he-she is a “him” (nor a “her”) nor does he-she ever cease moving and

changing in the text.

The Parody

Prosser decontextualizes text to make his point, while Halberstam valorizes

masculinity to make her point, therefore, these adversarial scholarly relationships provide

readers with quite a challenge in understanding SBB. Gender and sexuality are conflated

by social norms and often also in scholarship; for example, biologically male bodies (and

whatever those are constituted by) are automatically assumed to erotically desire

biologically female bodies (and whatever those are constituted by). These arguments
24
Halberstam, 148.

Thomas-Williams 9
about gender and sexuality, including the attempts to untangle them from each other,

according to Judith Butler, elucidates the “symbolic [investment in gender norms that]

survives every and any contestation of its authority.”25 In other words, male and female

bodies are symbolic of masculine and feminine social norms and are highly regulated in

the heteronormative paradigm, such that protestations only “shore up the authority of its

own descriptive terms.”26 Therefore, behavior that violates norms (and arguments over

these behaviors) actually reinforces the social cohesion between individuals who are

signified under the embodiment of “normal” (usually white, middle class, and

heterosexual). The act of pigeonholing the novel as a “transsexual autobiography,” then,

by Prosser, and the criticism that it is a failure by Namaste and Valerio, illustrates the

policing of the regulatory structure of such social processes.

Butler in Undoing Gender claims regulatory structures “seek to curb certain

specific activities.” 27 Therefore, these adversarial disagreements—over the insistence of

a transgendered persona’s necessary de-essentialization of gender, the unhinging of one’s

sexuality from a specific mode (or body) of desire, and the structure of narrative (novel)

written by a transgendered person—are merely reproducing the “normative space” of

power. These processes, these scholarly disagreements over textual and embodied

meaning of transgenderism, help to produce the very “parameters of personhood” that

they attempt to deconstruct; thus, Butler argues these structural and cognitive moves are

“making persons according to abstract norms [like correlating genitals to gender labels

then to sexual desire] that at once condition and exceed the lives they make and break.”28

25
Butler., 47.
26
Ibid., 51.
27
Ibid., 56.
28
Ibid.

Thomas-Williams 10
It appears that there is no clear answers to the problems posed by gender, sexuality,

narrative, and embodiment.

It is not necessary to cease discussion on these issues, but merely acknowledging

the limitations of ones analysis is useful. For example, Prosser criticizes Judith

Halberstam in F2M for claiming that “there are no transsexuals, we are all transsexuals,”

and in Female Masculinity Halberstam directly addresses what she calls the “Butch/FTM

Border Wars” writing “there are transsexuals, and we are not all transsexuals.”29 Rather

than ceaselessly argue further reproducing various “isms,” Halberstam argues “radical

interventions [can] come from careful consideration of racial and class construction of

sexual identities and gender identities and from a consideration of the politics of mobility

outlined by the prefix ‘trans.’”30 Considering Halberstam’s call for a “radical

intervention,” it is interesting that scholars like Namaste, Prosser, and Halberstam,

despite their own awareness of queer methodology, repeatedly seize on two specific

moments in the text. In doing so they refuse to diversify the scholarly discussion about

the transgendered character, Jess Goldberg, and the text itself. SBB is rich with insights

about the conundrum of gender and sexuality as Jess works through both following and

resisting appropriate codes of behavior in a dual gendered heterosexual society.

The Paradox

In SSB there is a particularly tense moment in the text when Jess, passing as a

man, has sexual intercourse (using a dildo) with a heterosexual woman, Annie, who is not

aware that she is engaging in erotic conduct with another woman-bodied person.31 Prior

to their sexual encounter, Jess reveals the tension he-she feels about his-her flirtation with
29
Halberstam, 173.
30
Ibid.
31
I have not seen this particular moment discussed in the scholarship, though it is evident why this situation
is avoided.

Thomas-Williams 11
Annie and the social norms involving sex, the gendered embodiment of sex, and what is

considered appropriate erotic conduct between sexes.

Our flirtation began the next morning. It was fun. It felt good. It reminded
me of the old days between femmes and butches. But this was not
between women. At least that’s not how the world around us saw it. And,
I reminded myself over and over again, that’s not how Annie saw it. . . .
The amazing part was that this courtship dance could take place in public
and everyone—coworkers and strangers alike—encouraged and
approved.32

Despite the tension and Jess’s self-awareness that Annie thinks she is dating a

heterosexual man, her-she pursues the relationship and finally visits Annie bringing with

him-her a harness and a dildo. Despite Jess’s ambiguous feelings about his-her

embodiment, when sexual intercourse begins it is clear that Jess identifies the dildo as an

extension of his-her own body. He-she narrates, for example, that he-she “pushed the

head of my cock gently inside of her.”33 The sex act is described as very intense and full

of pleasure for both parties and Jess is forced to end intercourse by faking ejaculation.

During this moment in the text, the reader is not yet aware of the fact that Annie is

homophobic. Annie believes that “faggots” engage in pedophilia, or rather as she

articulates it, “faggots” are “probably fuckin’ all the children.”34 Homosexuals are sexual

perversions to Annie. Jess ends the relationship with Annie upon learning of her

homophobia, musing “It’s one thing for the magician to reveal the art of illusion. It’s

another thing to tell a straight woman that the man she slept with is a woman. That’s not

what Annie agreed to get into.”35 What did Annie agree to get into?

Annie did not consent to sexual intercourse with another woman, just as Jess

admits. But is Jess really a woman? Not according to gender identity stereotypes which
32
Feinberg, 187.
33
Ibid., 191.
34
Ibid., 195.
35
Ibid.

Thomas-Williams 12
ascribe femininity to female bodies. Jess, prior to intercourse with Annie, also clearly

anticipates the possibility that she is misrepresenting herself (to Annie) as a heterosexual

male. Therefore, Jess fucks Annie knowing Annie would not have consented to sexual

intercourse, or even flirtation, with him-her if Annie was aware of Jess’s embodiment as

a he-she (not to mention Jess’s prior butch/femme relationships). What does this

conundrum of gender, sexuality, and embodiment do to the idea of consensual sexual

intercourse? Was this sexual intercourse between Jess and Annie consensual?

This fictional situation in SBB, this conundrum involving what counts as

consensual sexual conduct between two people, can be compared to a similar situation

involving a man in Massachusetts who, posing as his brother, had fraudulent sex with his

brother’s girlfriend. In this recent May 2007 case, the perpetrator entered the couple’s

residence while the girlfriend was sleeping; the man, then, entered his brother’s bedroom,

crawled into the couple’s bed and engaged in sexual intercourse with the sleeping

girlfriend. The girlfriend thinks she is allowing her boyfriend’s penis to penetrate her,

but upon waking she realizes the man who just put his penis in her was indeed her

boyfriend’s brother, and not her boyfriend. The woman calls the police, has the

perpetrator arrested, and pursues the matter in a criminal rape proceeding.36

The Supreme Court, in Suliveres v. Commonwealth, found that “intercourse

where consent is achieved by fraud does not constitute rape.”37 From the point of view of

the woman in this case this was not consensual sex, nor fraud, it was rape. In its decision,

however, the court upholds case law from 1957 wherein a doctor performing an abortion

indicated to his patient that part of the medical procedure included engaging in sexual

36
Massachusetts Law Updates, Sex by Fraud Isn’t Rape, Friday, May 11, 2007:
http://www.lawlib.state.ma.us/2007/05/sex-by-fraud-isnt-rape.html
37
Ibid.

Thomas-Williams 13
intercourse with him. The woman, needing the fetus removed, consented to sexual

intercourse with the doctor on the understanding that it was a necessary part of the

medical procedure. The doctor was found to have committed medical fraud, not rape,

and because Massachusetts legislature “has not seen fit to overrule” the fifty years old

decision, the fraud decision in the Suliveres case stands.38 Although there are some

details of the rape/fraud case that differ from the sex scene in SBB, parallels can be drawn

between the two cases.

In SBB Annie consents to sexual intercourse with a man, but Jess is “technically”

not a biological man. Annie is homophobic; Jess presents herself as a heterosexual male

and penetrates Annie with his-her “cock.” In the Suliveres case the girlfriend consents to

sexual intercourse with her boyfriend, but a man who is not her boyfriend puts his penis

in her vagina. She claims she is raped; the court rules that she was defrauded. Was the

sex between Jess and Annie consensual? Not entirely. Did Jess rape Annie? The

question is impossible to answer, because Annie disappears from the narrative. This

situation, however, indicates the paradox of social norms and ambiguity of case law.

From whose perspective are certain behaviors interpreted and then legislated?

Furthermore, this mysterious situation reveals that social reality is much more precarious

then it seems when the “politics of truth” are revealed.39 The “politics of truth” are an

entanglement of law, gender, sexuality, narrative and bodies, which makes evident what

Judith Butler describes as “those relations of power that circumscribe in advance what

will and will not count as truth, which order the world in certain regular and regulatable

ways, and which we come to accept as the given field of knowledge.”40

38
Ibid.
39
Butler, 57.
40
Ibid., 59.

Thomas-Williams 14
Conclusion

Regulating acts occur with the influence of judicial law and social norms, but they

also occur within the walls of the academy as illustrated by the adversarial relationship of

scholars Prosser, Namaste, and Halberstam to the novel by Leslie Feinberg. The

moments that scholars seize upon to use to their advantage in creating a queer

epistemology are interesting and entertaining, but they also reveal an underlying

persistent paradox: each person is at once shaped by a particular social order, while

participating in the very construction of that social order. Claims that SBB is a

transsexual autobiography deny Feinberg’s agency as a writer and a transgendered

person. The novel is marked as a work of fiction, thus SBB can and should be read as a

brave exploration of narrative and identity—its trials and tribulations—and its fictions.

Namaste and Valerio critique Jess for not finishing her transition, and essentially so does

Halberstam by insisting on much more fixed language than Feinberg uses to describe the

same moments.

Despite the criticism, though, in the end of the narrative, Jess arrives at a form of

political transgenderism: a non-gender that is forced to remain a fiction by the regulatory

regime of discipline and punish. On the final page of the novel Jess thinks, “I felt my

whole life coming full circle. Growing up so different, coming out as a butch, passing as

a man, and then back to the same question that had shaped my life: woman or man?”41

Feinberg’s text, thus, never reaches a gendered certainty or finality of identity, thus

earning criticism from Valerio and Namaste, nor does Jess identify with a place of origin

such as home, as falsely claimed by Prosser. Feinberg’s main character, Jess, remains a

non-gender, a fiction, and the novel closes with Jess imagining a world “worth living in,
41
Feinberg, 301 (original emphasis).

Thomas-Williams 15
worth fighting for” and a world in which he-she will survive.42 Stone Butch Blues: A

Novel plays with gender, sexuality, narrative, and embodiment as a fiction, a non-truth,

and as evidenced in this essay, SBB is worth fighting for (or at least over).

42
Ibid.

Thomas-Williams 16
 Bibliography

Butler, Judith. Undoing Gender. New York: Routledge, 2004.

Feinberg, Leslie. Stone Butch Blues: A Novel. Ithaca, NY: Firebrand Books, 1993.
Halberstam, Judith. Female Masculinity. Durham: Duke University Press, 1998.
Massachusetts Law Updates, Sex by Fraud Isn’t Rape, Friday May 11, 2007:
http://www.lawlib.state.ma.us/2007/05/sex-by-fraud-isnt-rape.html
Namaste, Viviane. Sex Change, Social Change: Reflections on Identity, Institutions, and
Imperialism. Toronto: Women’s Press, 2005.
Prosser, Jay. in “No Place Like Home: The Transgendered Narrative of Leslie Feinberg’s
‘Stone Butch Blues.’” Modern Fiction Studies, 41:3/4 (1995: Fall/Winter), 483-
514.
Stryker, Susan and Whittle, Stephen (2006). The Transgender Studies Reader. New York:
Routledge.

Thomas-Williams 17