Bronhitis - s/t demo (2007)

 Tape recordings, bass, metronome and voice. Recorded in 2007.

1) Nikotin

2) Fani
Today, he’s going to sit next to me.
He sat next to me yesterday.

Sunday… I saw… Janez, the priest.
Sunday… I saw… Janez, the priest.

Condolences, she was sick.
What can you do, what can you do.
Won’t be coming this week. Condolences.

3) Ultrazvočnik

Poslala je vabilo na žur. Podpisala je sebe, moža, psa in »otročička«. Na naslovnico je prilepila fotokopijo ultrazvočnega posnetka svojega trebuha. Na posnetku je gibanje, teža, mnogo zvezd v nôči. Prosojnost in snov, ki se iz vsake točke širi na nešteto novih: oblak, dim, pepel, pesek obenem. Obrnila se bo od znotraj navzven. Njena mehkoba se bo strdila v kožo nekoga, ki bo od znotraj spet ves mehak.

… naj diha z mravljami in troti. Naj bo nikogaršnji. In naj ne bodo žalostna telesa deklet, ki se nikoli ne bodo nabreknila v najdaljši čudež. Naj ostanem v zavetju trebuha, rok, misli. Naj se ne zgostim v človeka, temveč v pepel ali pesek. A če že: potem naj bom iztegnjena roka, ki v bolečini in radosti, kot pravijo, gre svojo pot.

Ultrasound Speaker
She sent an invitation to her party. Signed herself, her husband, their dog as well as their “baby”. Glued a photocopied ultrasound image of her belly to it. There is movement, weight, there are many stars on that image. Transparency and matter, spreading from each point to numerous others: a cloud, smoke, dust and sand all at once.

She is going to turn inside out. Her softness will harden into skin for someone who is going to be all soft on the inside again.

…let it breathe with ants and drones. Don’t let it belong. And don’t let girls’ bodies sadden if they may never swell to the shape of the longest miracle. Let me stay in the shelter of bellies, arms, thoughts. Don’t let me thicken into a person but into ashes or sand. And if I do: let me be a hand stretched out, one that, as they say, walks its own path in both pleasure and pain.

4) Reka v temi 
Reka v temi je močvirje.
Meglice hrumijo.
Nad mostom – tišina.

Ob šestih zabrnijo stroji.
Pogovarjamo se kriče.
Mož ob stroju posluša bitje svojega srca.
Bum-bum, bum-bum, bum-bum.


The River at Dawn
The river at dawn is a swamp.
Haze hums.
Above the bridge -- silence.

At six, the machinery roars.
We talk screaming.
Machine man listens to his heart beat.

Bum-bum, bum-bum, bum-bum.
Bum-bum, bum-bum, bum-bum.

5) Nerve

Spol kot dolžnost

Interseksualnost in ideologija naravnega v slovenski medicini
V sredo, 6. avgusta, sem bila gostja oddaje o spolnosti na Radiu Slovenija I. Oddajo pripravlja in vodi Mitja Blažič, v takratni pa sva o interseksualnosti in drugih spolih, ki štrlijo iz dvospolne matrice, govorili s Tonjo Blatnik. Bolje rečeno, vred z novinarjem sva kar preveč spoštljivo komentirali izjave prof. dr. Tadeja Battelina, endokrinologa, ki na Pediatrični kliniki vodi strokovno ekipo (sestavljajo jo še genetik, psiholog in dva kirurga), ki v Sloveniji odloča o usodi otrok, rojenih z »motnjo v spolni diferenciaciji«.

Del LaGrace Volcano, HermTorso, 1999

Če mi je oddajin naslov, Izlivi, vse preveč pričakovano dišal po moški pisavi (tako kot pisava oddaje Erekcije srca, v kateri je nekdanja soavtorica Izlivov, Liana Buršič, v nočnem programu Valu 202 še do pred kratkim brala porno zapise), me je na poti tja lastno mezenje opomnilo, da besedo 'izliv' brez potrebe povezujem z moškimi. Peljala sem se od Bežigrada proti radiu in na prenosnem radiu poslušala oddajo s precej bolj všečno vsebino in naslovom: Deviantovi fragmenti.

V oddaji je neko dekle s totalnim filingom bralo že drugo porno zgodbo. V zgodbi je modelka slikarja vprašala, čigavo telo je naslikal. Prej je s čopičem vlekel po njenem telesu in jo potem, ko je bila že vsa preznojena in hotna, začel slikat na platno. Upala je, da bo rekel, da je slikal njo, a je seveda odkimal; slikal je to, kar je videl sam. Takrat sem počasi, tiho in zbrano kolesarila mimo frančiškanske cerkve z napisom ZBRANOST TIŠINA in se spet opomnila, da besede, tako kot pogledi, res ne morejo pripadati samo tistim, ki so jih zgrabili prvi in čvrsto privezali nase. Ukrasti jih je treba in božati, dokler si ne odpočijejo, se preoblečejo in si zopet postanejo všeč.

V radijskem studiu je bil zrak tako suh, da so s-ji tleskali z jezikom. Ko je tehnik spustil đing, sem pogoltnila še zadnji požirek vode. Zaslišala sem vse preveč znano hropenje iz nekega drugega studia, ... ahh, je t'aime ... moi non plus..., kjer sta se, kot pravijo tisti, ki vejo povedat, med rajcanjem posnela Jane Birkin in Serge Gainsbourg. Tisti Serge, ki je režiral istoimenski pornič, v katerem je Jane odigrala vlogo deške deklice, ki za gej ljubimcem joče tudi potem, ko ta mirne duše gleda, kako jo njegov bivši skoraj zaduši s plastično vrečko. Če je bil Serge, kot vedo povedat tisti, ki so ga izbrali za napoved oddaje, res polbog spolne revolucije, potem mi ni žal, sem razmišljala med poslušanjem, da je te kraje zaobšla.

A čakalo me je že novo presenečenje: voditelj oddaje je rekel, da bomo nocoj »grizli prepovedani sad«, se pravi, izpraševali dvospolni sistem. Naju s Tonjo je napovedal kot »kači v rajskem vrtu izlivov«, kar me je spravilo v obup in potem v posiljen smeh, saj je, čeprav z ironijo, besede s takšno lahkoto ponovno izročil starim gospodarjem. Govoril je mehko, uglajeno, izšolano. Pomislila sem na vse tiste teorije o zvijačnosti kot orožju podrejenih in nemočnih, predvsem žensk, ki se morajo za svoj prav boriti okrog ovinkov, in ki se tudi tedaj, ko bi najraje kričale od besa, sklicujejo na razum in treznost, saj si s čustvenimi izbruhi naredijo več škode kot koristi – sploh, če so, tako kot smo bili v oddaji, soočene z avtoriteto medicine, ki je zamenjala božjo voljo.

Medicina si je vzela moč, da v imenu znanosti odmerja prostor naravi - tako kot v času referenduma o pravici žensk do umetne oploditve, ko se je v razpravo umešala kot nosilka moralnih vrednot, kar je, kot pravi sociologinja dr. Darja Zaviršek v Objektivu (12. september 2009), »skrajno škodljivo. (...) tudi del medicinske stroke je zaslužen za to, da se je po referendumu za nekaj let k nam vrnila ideologija naravnega, čeprav prav zdravniki dobro vedo, da življenje še zdaleč ni več naravno.«

A kako naj se stroki soočita in neizogibno spreta, da bi se spremenila praksa, če je dvospolni red za medicino kriterij zdravja, za (feministično in queer) sociologijo pa škodljiva ideološka predpostavka? »V medicini si ali moškega ali ženskega spola,« je v intervjuju ponovno poudaril dr. Battelino. »Če pride do motnje v diferenciaciji spolovila, se pravi zunanjih znakov, potem medicina ugotovi, kje je do te motnje prišlo, in poskuša pomagati. Poslušajte, ne more zdravnik reči nekomu: 'Vi ste pa med spoloma'. Kako bi pa to izgledalo? Človek ima pravico do svojega spola. In te pravice mu verjetno noben zdravnik noče vzeti.« Mar to pomeni, da morajo moški ali ženski spol operativno dobiti celo tisti, ki bi lahko shajali brez njega?

Po predstavitvi dokumentarnega filma Claudette (režija Sylvie Cachin, 2008) na lanskem Festivalu lezbičnega in gejevskega filma je v pogovoru z interseksualno Claudette Plumey, ki je med drugim »oče treh otrok, vodilna švicarska aktivistka za pravice spolnih delavk« in »globoko verna katoličanka«, sodeloval tudi slovenski kirurg Franci Planinšek. Claudette je kirurga vprašala, ali bi bilo dobro, da bi se za tako operacijo odločila tudi sama. Odgovoril je, da v njenem primeru »sploh ne vemo, kako je stvar videti; preden bi podal mnenje, bi vas moral videti«, na kar ga je Claudette opozorila, da se v glavi lahko dogaja nekaj drugega kot v telesu. Na njeno heretično vprašanje, kaj se zgodi v primeru, ko se doktorji v svoji presoji zmotijo, je odvrnil: »ja, nič, bomo pa še enkrat operirali«. »Takšen je bil odgovor estetskega kirurga,« je komentirala Claudette, »ki s svojimi storitvami dobro služi. A kaj, če so presoje napačne? Napačne odločitve pa so v takih primerih zelo tragične«.

Res, kako bi izgledalo, če bi komisija, ki v imenu zdravja in stroke odreja »ureditev zunanjega spolovila«, priznala, da je zmotljiva? Ali pa, če bi se izkazalo, da znanost o izgledu in namenu normalnega, naravnega in zdravega spola podpira patriarhalna in heteroseksistična ideologija? Dr. Battelino pravi, da je zdravljenje uspešno samo v primeru, ko ima »tak otrok, kasneje odrasla oseba, pravzaprav zvezo«. Na novinarjevo vprašanje, ali ima v mislih tudi homoseksualne zveze, je odgovoril, »da tukaj je pa jasno, heteroseksualno zvezo, seveda«.

Feministične avtorice in avtorji so s konceptom interseksualnosti odgovorili na lisice, katere je domišljiji zahoda nadela prisilna heteroseksualnost. Zato je interseksualnost v širšem smislu lahko postala zbirni pojem za vse nekoherentne spolne identitete, ki se nočejo ali ne morejo utemeljevati na mitu o avtentičnem in naravnem biološkem spolu; postala je teoretska fikcija za vse posredovane in začasne identitete, ki strogo varovano mejo med spoloma prečijo (transspolni in transseksualni ljudje) ali pa so »nedoločljivi« ('hermafroditi', 'androgini' in vsi drugi, brezimni spoli). V tem smislu interseksualnost ni usodni vpis, temveč parodičen opis.

V ožjem smislu je interseksualnost vezana na »dvoumne« genitalije. Ameriška pesnica, queer aktivistka in teoretičarka Riki Anne Wilchins, ki je spol operativno spremenila iz moškega v ženski, a se, kot pravi, v terminologiji transseksualnosti počuti preveč utesnjeno, v »prevratniškem slovarčku«, ki zaključi njeno zbirko esejev Read my Lips (1997), interseksualnost opredeli kot »prošnjo zdravnikov in staršev za nujno psihiatrično pomoč – čeprav jim najbolj pomaga operacijski poseg na spolnih organih njihovih otrok« ali kot »stanje, ko se nekdo rodi s spolovili v tehnikolorju, medtem ko so spolovila drugih črno-bela«.

Louise Bourgeois, Janus fleuri, 1968

V mitoloških, religioznih, kasneje pa tudi znanstvenih in literarnih pripovedih o polimorfnem predojdipovskem subjektu je osrednje mesto pripadlo androginu, dobesedno moškemu-ženski. Iz njegovega »razcepa na dve polovici« naj bi vzniknile razlike, začel naj bi se proces individuacije (za psihoanalizo) in delitve dela (za marksizem), s katerima je zahod stopil v civilizacijo/zgodovino – »nazaj« k njemu pa se obračajo mnogi feminizmi, ki bi spolno dihotomijo želeli preseči. Vendar androgin sporno dvospolno delitev nosi že v imenu. V tem smislu previdnejši koncept interseksualnost se je pod različnimi imeni udomačil v queer teoriji, saj – in v tem je radikalnejša od feminizma – stremi k odpravi institucije spola oz. njenega obnavljanja na heteroseksističnih temeljih.

Feminizem »spolno obeleženih subjektov« dvomi, da je zahteva queer teorije uresničljiva, saj je človekova zaznava jezikovno posredovana, jezika pa naj bi bil inherentno seksističen. Saj veste, če bo govora o delavcih v propadajoči slovenski tekstilni industriji in zraven teksta ne bo slike, bralki ne preostane drugega, kot da zaključi, da so vsi delavci pač moškega spola, pa čeprav se bo morda spomnila, da je moški slovnični spol v slovenščini »generičen«, torej splošno veljaven. Slovnica ženski spol - in njeno telo - izbriše tudi v primeru, ko v dvojini naslavljamo njo in njega. Izkaže se, da sta šla, ne pa šli na sprehod. Dojemanje slehernika je pogojeno s spolom, ki ga patriarhalna družba pripiše njegovemu ali njenemu telesu. Lahko bi rekli, da se jezik in spol vpisujeta v telo, ali da se, natančneje, z vsakim vpisom učimo oponašati en ali drug spol. Da je generični moški spol močno ustrojil rabo slovenščine, priča tudi moja izkušnja z intervjujvanjem domačih feminističnih, lezbičnih in queer aktivist, ki so o sebi in drugih ženskah, s katerimi sodelujejo, večinoma govorile v moškem spolu.

Feminizem se tako upravičeno sprašuje, če so interseksualne »utopije«, o katerih razmišljamo ljudje, odrasli v svetu, v katerem je dovolj prostora samo za ženske in moške, sploh lahko emancipatorne. Queer teorija je vprašanje obrnila na glavo: so heteroseksizmu v svetu, v katerem manjšinski subjekti v postelji, knjigah, na ulici in odrih spole »menjamo kot gate«, šteti dnevi? Težko verjamem. »Spol ni sporazumen,« je zapisala Kate Bornstein v knjigi Spolni izobčenci (1999). »Če sem rojen-a s telesom z mešanimi spolnimi znaki, tvegam, da me bodo razsekali – popravili, okrnili. (...) Rodili smo se: zdravnik nam pripiše spol. Dokumentira ga država, vsiljuje zakonodaja, posveti ga cerkev, kupuje in prodaja se v medijih. Nimamo besede pri lastnem spolu – ne smemo dvomiti o njem, se igrati z njim, ga razvijati s prijatelji, z ljubimci, z družino«.

Dr. Battelino se seveda strinja, le da se je v njegovi retoriki pravica do zdravja spremenila v dolžnost nositi prepoznaven ženski ali moški spol. »Mislim, da imajo vsi ljudje pravico bit zdravi. Človek, ki se rodi popolnoma zdrav, se rodi z jasnim spolom, ki je ali moški ali ženski. Kot zdravnik sem zavezan pomagat vsakemu bolnemu človeku, četudi je ta konkretna bolezen pomešana z različnimi filozofijami, gibanji in ne vem čem vse. Mi pač, če hočete, bolnih ljudi ne ločujemo po spolu. Vsak človek, ki ima neko očitno motnjo, bodisi genetsko bodisi hormonsko, in ima zaradi tega posledice, je za nas pač človek, ki trpi, in poskušamo mu pomagati po najboljšem trenutnem medicinskem znanju. Zdrav človek ima v naravi, ko se rodi, vedno spol. In ta spol je moški ali ženski«.

Amen.

Za tiste, ki ne molimo:
Mojca Kumerdej: Včasih Claude, najpogosteje Claudette
Jasna Magić, Mateja Petan: Claude, Claudette
Tonja Blatnik: Interseksualnost - ko spola nista le dva
Dijana Matković: Padec v zajčjo luknjo
Organizacija Intersex Society of North America
Anne Fausto-Sterling: Sexing the Body: Gender Politics and the Construction of Sexuality
Revija Lesbian and Gay Studies (št. 15): Intersex and After
Cressida J. Heyes: Self-Transformations. Foucault, Ethics, and Normalized Bodies

Kolumna je v krajši obliki izšla v 11. številki revije Narobe.

Istanbul Pride afterthoughts

Here are Anna Ehrlemark's impressions about the XXX Politics, or as we prefer, For Fuck's Sake workshop we held at the 2009 Pride Istanbul week. Below are my additions... Check out Ruzgar's photos, too!

The workshop took place in a dance studio called Çıplak Ayaklar or, in literal translation, Naked Feet, a name that, if you ask the neighbors, seems to suggest more than you could ever imagine seeing at the hammam right next door. Not only did we listen to on-screen moans and sighs at lower volume; during the workshop, the entrance door was locked – just in case another guardian of pub(l)ic morals would decide to check up on yet another shameless exposure of conscientious objectors who, among other kind and brave people, run the venue.
 

The studio is placed in a small dead-end street beside a metal workshop where a large sun-tanned man was smoking a cigarette, resting in the fading daylight while people began gathering for the discussion and screening. To my great surprise, there were people there who said they never watch porn but have come to see whether the independent and possibly queer porn films have something “less revolting” and more ticklish to offer.

After seeing portions of Trans Entities: The Nasty Love of Papi' and Wil and The Crash Pad, a girl said she could only enjoy these films if she put herself into a “male mindset”, a comment that needed further explaining since the exact characteristics of a “male mindset” seemed to be unknown to male and female participants alike. And yet, our demands to explain her claim might have been too pushy. In fact, it looked like we were too busy proving our point to actually hear her answer.

Did she say that the pleasures embodied on-screen were too far from the ones she likes? Or that the use of porn for arousal is, in her eyes, a domain so traditionally male, that it is easier for her to imagine herself in that role than it would be to claim that space, make it comfortable for her as a woman? Perhaps all she was saying was that she could not identify with those filmed bodies – an issue that seems to enter reflections on porn use only at workshops like these. As an abundance of sources claims, the essential condition for one’s enjoyment of porn is the opposite: you have to accept the objectification of another’s body in order to let your fantasies go, and allow yourself to scribble your own handwriting on those bodies. And then again: if you feel objectified and reduced to a sex object in real life – how can you be expected to do the same to people acting in virtual representations of sex? Especially those that deliberately try to familiarize you with the actors, de-objectify them, by interviewing them and showing the interviews before the sex, for example.
 

If we were satisfied with Barbara DeGenevieve’s amusing definition of queer porn as porn in which “queer people are having queer sex”, feminist porn proved to be a more difficult subject to pin down. As mentioned in Anna's notes, Jennifer Lyon Bell’s film received quite contradictory responses, all made in the name of feminism. In order to make any kind of discussion possible – in spite of the very articulate and respectful participants – it seemed that everybody has to define what they claim in the name of feminism first. And we tried.

There were people who have already seen all the films we brought for screening, and willingly shared other film suggestions with us. Like Abby Winters, an amateur lesbian site that prides itself with moral, or rather, ethical integrity. Also recommended were the Straight Guys for Gay Eyes site and the award-winning documentary about female masculinity by Gabriel Baur, Venus Boyz (2002). And, of course the fabulous “erotic noir” SM film by Maria Beatty, The Black Glove.

During The Crash Pad scene screening, I was smoking a cigarette in the studio’s kitchen. While watching familiar scenes, I realized that I must have reached my limit. I must have seen that film four times, and like it happens with “real” unimaginative sex, I definitely had enough. The scene that aroused me at the first viewing seemed terribly long and predictable now, and the only joy I could find was in the fact that I was looking at the scene in a mirror that reflected another mirror’s reflection of the screen.

I was thinking about what Luca Donnini said earlier that day: that from a genital point of view, the number of possibilities, sex positions, is very limited: our bodies are too predictably familiar, too similar to each other. And yet, if you talk about genders and their possible expressions, the details and differences multiply into infinity. While the challenge of making interesting, challenging, arousing queer porn would seem to lie right there – in the ability to portray that playful variety – it seems, strangely enough, that a whole lot of people are turned on more (and therefore keep looking for) visual representations of sex that are familiar, mirroring more of the same familiarity.

And thinking about the girl who had to put on her “male” persona in order to enjoy “women-friendly” porn, I could think of only one question: could it be that enjoyment of independent, feminist or queer porn requires a process of un-learning the rules of the genre (allowed and accessible fantasies included) as defined by mainstream production first. Could it be that, in order to enjoy porn, you also have to un-learn behaviors that are socially approved for your sex? And then: does it demand an exposure to a great variety of independent queer porn so that you can familiarize yourself with queer bodies and previously unseen fantasies, and get used to them. In other words, does it demand, like other kinds of sensitivities, a training in the ability to imagine the yet unseen and inexperienced? Something like our attempt to stamp out “common morals” with our “naked” feet and vulnerable ethics, perhaps.

Lad.i.y.fest Berlin 2009: Reading of feminist and queer literature

Reading of feminist and queer literature from “Middle-, Eastern-, Southeastern Europe”

Thursday, July 16th 2009, 7:30 - 10 pm at SfE (Schule für Erwachsenenbildung). Gneisenaustrasse 2a, 10961 Berlin, (Mehringhof - 2nd backyard, right side, 3rd floor) www.sfeberlin.de (U7 Gneisenaustr., U6 + U7 Mehringdamm) Lad.i.y.fest Berlin '09 webpage.

*

Compared to the works of feminist and queer writers in “Western Europe” and USA the relevant literature from authors from Central, Eastern- and Southeastern Europe is nearly unknown to a wider public, especially in the Anglo-Saxon or German speaking world.

Spending some time with us, in a cosy environment, reading short texts written by feminist, lesbian and queer authors from Poland, Slovenia, Croatia and other countries, you may get a glimpse into the world that often remains unknown even to the “mainstream society” in the authors’ home countries. Even though some of you may already be familiar with some of the texts, you will have the chance to hear some not yet published/translated works – and last but not least – enjoy the atmosphere of an interesting feminist public reading.

Open to everyone interested in feminist literature and respecting the idea of the festival!

*

My poem Say it! was read by Sadie. Many thanks to Tanja and Sadie for their help with translation and, of course, the invitation!

Say it!

She turned up and said: are you…?
Yes? I asked
and waited for the inevitable.

She gulped down her saliva,
an ice-cold waterfall of certainty:
To me, you look…

You’re lesbian, right?
No - are you coming on to me?
Noo… are you bisexual?
No - there are more sexes.
Don’t tell me you’re straight?
No, no, it's just you who makes me cold.

Who are you then, say it!
My name is Monique, Judith, Kate,
and Ed, Dim and Herculine.
I'm a person, sometimes I'm people.
Uncertainty is not going to kill us.

Don’t be so secretive, say it!
Look, this is becoming so cold
I’m about to lose my voice.

You look like… - she gulped down
an ice-cold waterfall of certainity -
I have to know your name.

C’mon, define yourself, say it!
Look, I’m cold:
my face has gone numb.

C’mon, define yourself, say it!
Don’t be so secretive, say it!
Look, its time for you to leave.
Hurry, or else you might vanish.

XXX-Politics at Istanbul Pride 2009

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XXX-Politics: Independent Porn as a Critical Response to Mainstream Porn … a workshop; discussion; film screenings at Istanbul Pride 2009!

Tuesday, June 23rd 2009, 20:00 – 23:00 at the Çıplak Ayaklar Dance Studio. Address: Firuzağa mah., Çukurcuma cad., No: 6/3, Beyoğlu, Istanbul, Turkey
Phone: 0212 252 30 13

http://prideistanbul.org/schedule.html
http://www.ciplakayaklar.com/index.html

The discussion/workshop is going to focus on independent pornographic films that can be labelled as political, feminist, queer or simply different from what the mainstream porno industry has to offer. Like all porn, independent porno films are about sexually explicit imagery intended for sexual arousal of the viewer. But the difference is significant. There are many amateur and professional film-makers who deliberately ignore, resist, laugh at, comment on or are bored with the persistent male-centered gaze, misogynystic scenarios and reproduction of heterosexual norms in the mainstream porn industry.

Independent porn is a direct and critical response to mainstream porn production. It is providing our horny and queer, role-playing and bisexual, lesbian and gay, submissive and dominant, transgressive and straight desires with a show-and-tell alternative. It is about reclaiming the right to sexual pleasure as we like it, to the beauty of bodies like yours and mine. It is about resisting sexual humilation, violence and exploitation in porn as a symptom of rather than the reason for the sexual and gender violence in society. It is not about liberal relativizing, but about respecting mutual consent. About ethics.

Is independent porn political? From a feminist point of view, it is politically correct because queer people with queer bodies are in it having queer sex. But porn can never be completely politically correct, because our fantasies are not. That's why watching and producing queer porn opens up a field of difficult questions that an unconditional anti-pornographic stance doesn't allow us to face. Barbara DeGenevive, one of the filmmakers that will be presented during the workshop, puts it this way:

"Porn is made to get people off. In order to do this, bodies must not only be highly sexualized, but objectified, fetishized, exotified and made to accommodate very particular individual kinks. Political correctness has become an intellectual prison within which an extremely limited dialogue can take place, and in fact where monologues and diatribes are usually the discursive practice. Embracing the need to objectify and be objectified, to fetishize and be fetishized, to play the willing victim as well as the victimizer, opens up a mine field that will be difficult to traverse, but it is a more intellectually provocative and honest terrain from which to understand who we are as complex sexual beings."

During the workshop we will show and discuss excerpts from the following independent porn films:

- Watching Lesbian Porn (dir.: Dayna McLeod, 2001, 10'18'', Canada, excerpt, Turkish subtitles
- Headshot (dir.: Jennifer Lyon Bell, Blue Artichoke Films, 2006, 9'00'', NL/USA)
- Trans Entities – The Nasty Love of Papi' and Wil (dir.: Morty Diamond, 2007, USA, excerpt, Turkish subtitles)
- The Crash Pad (dir.: Shine Louise Houston, Pink and White Productions, 2007/08, USA, excerpt)
- The Raspberry Reich (dir.: Bruce LaBruce, 2004, Canada, excerpt)
- Love Hotel (dir.: Barbara DeGenevieve, 2009, USA, excerpt)

Your questions and critiques are most welcome. The workshop is moderated by Anna Ehrlemark and Tea Hvala, the 2009 Feminist and Queer Festival Red Dawns (Ljubljana, Slovenia) porn film screening curators.

To apply, write to info@prideistanbul.org
The workshop is going to be in English. Simultaneous translation to Turkish is going to be provided. The number of participants is limited to 30 people. To help us prepare for the workshop we would be grateful if you enclose your reply to the following questions:

Why do you watch porn? Or why not?
What do feel is lacking in mainstream porn?

For stimulation, here are some missing (porn) links: http://rdecezore.blogspot.com/2009/03/xxx-until-dawn-missing-links.html

Pogovor o feminizmu na Radiu ARS

Pogovor o aktualnih feminističnih temah, povezavah med feministično teorijo in prakso, posebej še povezavah med feminizmom, umetnostjo in političnim delovanjem. Pogovor s Suzano Tratnik, Marino Gržinić, Ano Grobler, Alenko Spacal in Teo Hvala moderira Tomaž Simon.

Vabljene, vabljeni k poslušanju!

V sredo, 7. aprila 2009 od 14.05 do 15.00
na Radiu SLO III (ARS) v oddaji Arsov forum.
Posnetek je dostopen na Multimedijskem portalu RTVS (pod: Arsov forum, 8. 4. 2009).

Feministična teorija na prostem trgu

Leta 2006 je osem evropskih univerz, na katerih potekajo študije spolov, podpisalo sporazum o postopnem približevanju učnih programov in izmenjavi študentk in študentov, katerim se magisterij prizna tako na matični kot gostujoči univerzi. Od slovenskih fakultet se je v dvoletni program GEMMA (Joint European Masters Degree in Gender Studies) vključila ljubljanska fakulteta za podiplomski humanistični študij, Institutum Studiorum Humanitatis, na kateri poteka program Antropologija spolov. V Ljubljani se je na vprašanja, ki zadevajo spole, na podiplomski ravni sicer mogoče osredotočiti še na Filozofski fakulteti (Ženske študije in feministična teorija) in Fakulteti za družbene vede. Tam se v sklopu magistrskega študija sociologije letos izvaja smer Seksizem kot (sodobna) tradicija. 

Na univerzah, ki so vključene v program GEMMA, bi feministično teorijo zaman iskali pod tem imenom, čeprav je naziv vsebinsko natančnejši od tistih v splošni rabi, ker v nasprotju z ženskimi študijami in študijami spolov raje poudarja pristop kot vsebino. Tako sebi dopušča možnost, da se posveča širšemu polju tem, drugim pa, da se spolom in ženskam posvečajo z lastnih gledišč. Na primer, z vidika lezbičnih in gejevskih študij ter njihovega nejevernega, „izkrivljenega“ in levo usmerjenega nasledstva, ki sliši na še neprevedeno ime queer teorija. Čeprav si queer teorija, podobno kot mnoge feministične teorije, prizadeva za dekonstrukcijo dualizmov, vpetih v jezik, zakone in vsakdanje življenje, ji evropske teoretičarke večinoma odrekajo status teorije, s tem pa tudi lastno akademsko sobo. Pri tem je pomenljivo, da so v preteklosti prav gejevske in lezbične študije v akademski feminizem, ko se je ta osamosvajal od aktivizma, vnesle svežino. In širino. Posebej pri vprašanjih, ki zadevajo spolnost, njeno regulacijo in reprezentacije, so gejevske in lezbične študije – gotovo prav zaradi vztrajanja pri neločljivosti teorije in delovanja – feminizem v zgodnjih devetdesetih pošteno radikalizirale. 

Je mogoče, da queer teoriji feministične teoretičarke v Evropi danes odrekajo metodološko in vsebinsko specifičnost zato, ker obljublja ponovno radikalizacijo feminizma? Ali ker gre, kot pravi Rosi Braidotti, predstojnica oddelka za študije spolov na Univerzi v Utrechtu, kjer sem bila na polletni GEMMA izmenjavi sama, za dve nezdružljivi paradigmi? Se ponavlja zgodba o znanstvenih revolucijah, v katerih do sprememb lahko pride šele, ko stara paradigma pade v dovolj globoko krizo, da je pripravljena poslušati, kaj ji ima povedati nova? Kot je v Strukturi znanstvenih revolucij ugotovil Thomas S. Kuhn, v kriznih prehodih odločilno vlogo igrajo psihološki in socialni dejavniki, ne znanje in argumenti... A morda je bolj kot zgornja velikopotezna spekulacija na tem mestu zanimivo vprašanje, zakaj bi queer teorija sploh želela vstopiti na univerzo, ko pa, ponovimo, tam niti feministične teorije ne najdemo pod lastnim imenom. Je mogoče, da na večini evropskih univerz magisterij iz feministične teorije ne obstaja zato, ker stigmatizacija feminizmov, ki obvladuje vsakdanji medijski diskurz, straši celo v predavalnicah, predvsem pa na upravah posameznih fakultet?  

Da straši zunaj univerze, je preverjeno. Sošolke so v Utrechtu ob družabnih priložnostih zvedava vprašanja o tem, kaj študirajo, najraje kar preslišale. Feminizem je na Nizozemskem preziran; sicer v manjši meri kot v Sloveniji, a vendarle. Izenačen je s sovraštvom, katerega naj bi do moških gojile feministke, v najboljšem primeru pa je dojet kot preživeta politika ekonomske emancipacije, ki je z izenačitvijo plač med nekaterimi ženskami in moškimi na Nizozemskem dosegla svoj cilj – in izgubila smisel. Da dominantni diskurz v Sloveniji obvladujeta predvsem prezir in nevednost, je pokazala lanskoletna anketa, v kateri so predstavniki „slovenske inteligence“ feminizem izenačili s „femi-fašizmom“ (Miša Molk), feministke pa ozmerjali z „nepofukanimi ženskami“ (Tone Fornezzi) in nečem, kar je „podobno klerikalcem“ (Marko Crnkovič). Po mnenju Jerce Legan se je feminizem izpel zato, ker so feministke „nagovarjale ženske, da so izgubile svojo ženstvenost“*.

V sorodni anketi si nihče od vprašanih ni upal reči, da „homoseksualca“ ne bi imel za soseda, zanimivo pa je, da jim enakega vprašanja o feministkah novinarka sploh ni postavila. Res, kje in kdo sploh so feministke? Če bi se v Sloveniji feminizem kaj lahko naučil od gejevskega, predvsem pa lezbičnega gibanja, so to načini, kako izstopiti iz klozeta nevidnosti. Queer teorija bi mu vedela povedati še besedo ali dve o tem, kako se posledic strukturne neenakosti, ki ne zadeva vseh žensk in še manjše število moških, zadeva pa vse tiste ljudi, ki so bili iz različnih razlogov postavljeni na rob normalnosti, feministke in feministi lahko lotijo skupaj z geji in lezbijkami – in še kom, ki naj bi „pomenil“ vse tisto, za kar v družbi povprečij ne sme biti prostora. 

In če se za hip vrnemo v predavalnico: ali gre razlog za politično korektnost in depolitizacijo študija iskati v dejstvu, da programa GEMMA Evropska komisija ne bi financirala v enaki meri, ko bi ta poleg enakih ekonomskih možnosti zagovarjal še pravico do nezaslišane raznolikosti na drugih področjih življenja? In se ob tem, ponovno s pomočjo queer teorije, obregnil tudi ob ekonomsko-politično ureditev, ki socialne razlike potrebuje za lasten obstoj, spolna neenakost pa ji pri njihovem vzdrževanju pride še prav? Ali pa je danes, ko je bolonjski proces v polnem teku, le preveč naivno pričakovati, da bo univerza ob učinkovitem in unovčljivem znanju še naprej p(r)odajala tudi tako nesmotrno in potratno vednost kot je feminizem? Čemu?

Velja pripomniti, da sta bolonjski proces (z uvajanjem šolnin) in država (s sofinanciranjem „javno-zasebnih“ izobraževalnih ustanov) začela uresničevati to, k čemur se je 152 držav, vključno s Slovenijo, posredno zavezalo že s podpisom Splošnega sporazuma o trgovini s storitvami (GATS), ki je leta 1994 nastal na pobudo Svetovne trgovinske organizacije. V sporazumu je bil kot pogoj za prosto trgovanje z visokošolskim izobraževanjem naveden prav začetek trženja izobraževanja na nacionalni ravni. Kljub Praškemu komunikeju iz leta 2001, v katerem so ministri za šolstvo držav Evropske unije s precejšnjo zamudo ugotovili, da je znanje vendarle javna dobrina, bo, kot kaže, razmerje med „povpraševanjem“ in „ponudbo“ v univerzitetnih podjetjih kmalu prišlo na svoj račun. Ali pa vsaj do kredita ...  

... tako kot študentke in študenti, ki so bili v tekočem šolskem letu vključeni v študijske izmenjave v okviru programa GEMMA. Zaradi trimesečne zamude pri izplačilu štipendij so se morali zadolžiti pri gostujočih univerzah ali, če to ni šlo, pri banki, starših, prijateljih. Študentke iz novih držav članic Evropske Unije, ki so šle na izmenjavo v katero od zahodnoevropskih držav, so se morale „znajti“ v vsakem primeru, saj mesečna štipendija znaša 300 €, lastno sobo pa je na Nizozemskem nemogoče najeti za manj kot 370 € mesečno. Večina študentk in študentov iz madžarskega, slovaškega, poljskega, slovenskega, pa tudi portugalskega, španskega in drugih obrobij, se v Utrechtu ni srečevala le v predavalnicah, ampak tudi v tovarnah na robu mesta. Fleksibilizacija študija se preveč dobro ujema s fleksibilizacijo dela, da tega ne bi izkoristili! 

Morda se v teh razmerah feministične teorije – in drugih potencialno prevratniških idej – na univerzi sploh ne da misliti. Lahko se jo poučuje, vendar se je ne da misliti na načine, ki bi omogočali radikalne prelome. Pestrost študijskih programov, vključenih v program GEMMA, pa tudi druge akademske feministične mreže, resda odseva teoretsko razvejanost sodobnih feminizmov, vprašanje pa je, kaj je tem pristopom skupnega na politični ravni. Če je to imunost na spremembe v samem delovanju univerz in slepota za svet izven akademskih okopov, potem se je morda (spet) treba vprašati, kaj se s feministično teorijo da početi zunaj univerze ...

* Alenka Kavčič: Moja dežela, št. 14, 1.9.2008

Kolumna bo v krajši obliki objavljena v spletnem časopisu slovenskih nevladnih organizacij, cNVOs.info (rubrika Izpostavljeno).

More Shameless Selfpromotion

This interview about Rdeče zore festival was made during this year's fest in Ljubljana by Debi and Red for their really informative Grassroots Feminism online archive.

Galapagos v Franciji

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Potujoči otok Galapagos Damijana Kracine in Vladimirja Lebna bo med 14. marcem in 10. majem 2009 zasidran v galeriji Colysée v Lambersartu (Lille) v Franciji. Razstava poteka v okviru projekta Lille3000 - Europe XXL.

Galapaški otok je na tem gostovanju postal bogatejši za še eno živalsko vrsto. Prvi primerek malega rineža (Pulsus minor) sva z ornitologom J. Pirnatom opazila 11. marca. Skrival se je med vrati, ki vodijo k parku in trdnjavi La Citadelle, h kanalu reke la Deule, na čik pavze. Dolgo je mencal med vrati. Nihče ga ni odvračal niti vabil v galerijo, čez čas pa smo ga le prosili, naj se čimprej odloči, saj je skozi priprta vrata vlekel strašen prepih. Ko je sredi galerije zagledal posušeno drevesno vejo, se je (za njegove okorne račje noge dokaj hitro) odgugal v njeno zavetje. Z g. Pirnatom sva po temeljitem pregledu malega rineža lahko potrdila večino ugotovitev, katere je o tej živalski vrsti doslej zabeležila stroka. Njegov spol in razmnoževalne navade pa žal tudi po najinem pregledu ostajajo nejasne.

Mali rinež (levo spodaj).

MALI RINEŽ
Pulsus minor

Opis: Ptica. Hidrodinamično telo. Izjemen plavalec. Odrasla žival meri do 40 cm, doseže težo 30 dag. Zakrnela krila. Oči, skrite za kožno gubo. Dolg, oster in čvrst kljun. Dolg gibljiv jezik. Izbočen ovalen trup. Izražen stok. Vitke in prožne noge s plavalno kožico in zadnjim opornim prstom.

Habitat: Gozdovi na bregovih sladkovodnih jezer. Celinski podnebni pas.

Posebnosti: Oster kljun, ki plenilskemu malemu rinežu lajša lovljenje večjih rib. Podobno kot piranhe, lovi v jatah. Rineži izberejo plen in se iz globine poženejo v telo večje ribe ali vodnega sesalca. Z ostrimi kljuni se zarinejo v telo, prebijejo kočo ali luske in se z nazobčanim delom kljuna pritrdijo obnje, z zobci pa se dodatno zataknejo pod kožo. Medtem se z nogami odrivajo od vode in prodirajo v meso. Skupinsko, tako kot puščica, prebodejo plen. Ko so z glavo zarinjeni v telo plena, dihajo skozi stok.

Vedenje: Mali rinež pod vodo živi v jatah, ki lahko obsegajo do tristo primerkov. Če jato ogrozi sovražnik, na primer ribiči, ki rineže lovijo z mrežami iz jeklenih vlaken, se posamezne jate združijo v eno. Zavzamejo obliko velikega ostrega kljuna, ki mrežo lahko prebode dovolj, da posamezni primerki izplavajo iz pasti. Na kopnem se mali rinež zadržuje le redko, ker je zaradi zakrnelih kril in ploskih nog okoren. Rineži na kopno prihajajo v manjših skupinah. Posamezni primerki se razporedijo po jezerskem bregu in ob nevarnosti z visokofrekvenčnimi piski drug drugega (in jato, ki se zadržuje v plitvini) opozarjajo na kopenske plenilce. Najnevarnejši plenilec je človek.

Razmnoževanje: V obdobju parjenja jate malih rinežev iščejo zavetje v težje dostopnih tolmunih. Strokovna javnost meni, da fizična nedostopnost in neoporečna voda malim rinežem zagotavljata večji reproduktivni uspeh. V tem času so rineži zelo ranljivi, pri sami združitvi pa pogosto tudi ranjeni. Oster kljun in reža v stoku v času parjenja prevzameta funkcijo spolnih organov. Rineži se v plitvinah tolmunov razvrstijo v velike kroge, ki štejejo tudi do petsto osebkov. V določenem, še neraziskanem trenutku, vsak rinež zarine kljun v režo rineža, ki stoji pred njim. Krog je torej zaključen, ko se prvi mali rinež v vrsti spoji z zadnjim. Ni jasno, če je pogoj za uspešno reprodukcijo prav zaključen krog. Čeprav vrsta še ni povsem raziskana, ornitologi domnevajo, da gre za hermafrodite, saj doslej še niso naleteli na primerke z različnimi spolnimi organi. Gotovo je le to, da nekateri primerki v blatu jezerskih bregov pozno pomladi izležejo od 2 do 3 pegasto-rdeča jajca. Imajo enomesečno valilno dobo. Za hranjenje mladičev, tako kot za lov in reprodukcijo, skrbi celotna jata.

Ornitologa T. Hvala in J. Pirnat s primerkom malega rineža.

Fotografiral Damijan Kracina.

Nedualistična misel Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick

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Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick
Dotik občutka: Afekt, pedagogika, performativnost
Prevod Tanja Velagić, spremna beseda Marina Gržinić, Zavod Emanat, zbirka Prehodi, Ljubljana, 2007

Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick poleg Judith Butler velja za najvplivnejšo ameriško teoretičarko s področja queer teorije. Obe avtorici sta leta 1990 nastopili proti esencialističnim teoretskim obravnavam spolov in spolnih usmeritev: prva v še neprevedeni literarni študiji Epistemology of the Closet, druga pa v delu Težave s spolom, ki je v prevodu Suzane Tratnik izšlo leta 2001. V ta namen sta se obe avtorici naslonili na poststrukturalizem, posebej derridajevsko dekonstrukcijo, Foucaultova zgodnejša dela in prvi del Zgodovine seksualnosti, nelacanovsko psihoanalizo in Austinovo (lahko bi rekli tudi Škrabčevo) teorijo o govornih dejanjih ali performativih.

Judith Butler je v Težavah s spolom koncept performativnosti iz specifičnih govornih dejanj prenesla na kategorije biološkega spola, družbenega spola in seksualnosti rekoč, da jih naturalizira šele vztrajno ponavljanje ali uprizarjanje stiliziranih telesnih dejanj – tistih, ki so znotraj regulativnih diskurzov dovoljena, ker pričajo o koherentnosti omenjenih kategorij, denimo o domnevnem sovpadanju ženskega telesa z ženstveno vlogo in heteroseksualnostjo. Predvsem v zunajakademskih krogih je njena teza naletela na veliko odobravanje, saj je z navajanjem primerov parodičnega uprizarjanja spolov iz ameriške lezbične in gejevske kulture spodbudila navdušene interpretacije, ki so zanemarile njen foucaultovski uvid. Teorijo o “uprizarjanju spolov” so pogosto razumeli potrošniško: kot zagovor poljubne zamenljivosti “fluidnih” spolnih identitet in seksualnih praks, katerih po tej utopični razlagi ne omejuje niti umeščenost posameznika v eno samo telo niti vpetost v heteronormativni sistem (samo)nadziranja in kaznovanja tistih “čudakov”, ki si domišljajo, da se nadzoru lahko izognejo. Judith Butler je tovrstna branja zavrnila v študiji z zgovornim naslovom Bodies That Matter: On the Discursive Limits of “Sex” (1993). Enako zgovorno je dejstvo, da v kasnejših delih performativnosti ni povezala s spoli in seksualnostjo, temveč je koncept vrnila tja, od koder je prišel: v jezikoslovje.

Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick je v literarni študiji Epistemology of the Closet jezik in govorico razumela kot primarni teren za protiesencialistično raziskovanje zaradi njunega vpliva na zunajbesedilno, materialno resničnost, študijo pa lahko beremo kot “dopolnilo” k prvemu delu Foucaultove Zgodovini seksualnosti, saj avtorica iz ameriške in evropske literature fin de siecla izlušči epistemologijo “klozeta” ali skrivanja, ki je veljala vsaj do Stonewalla: torej načine, kako so se lezbijke in geji medsebojno prepoznavali še preden je obstajala možnost – in politika – javnega razkritja. Nadaljuje, da je neizprosna ločnica med skrivanjem in razkritjem odgovorna za izmuzljivost oznake “homoseksualnost”, ki nikoli ni bila enosmiselna, ker izbira istospolnega objekta po eni strani označuje prehajanje med spoli, po drugi strani pa odseva separatistični impulz, ki obstaja znotraj vsakega posameznega družbenega spola in ni vedno povezan s političnim separatizmom.

Enako velja za opredeljevanja razlik med homoseksualnostjo in heteroseksualnostjo: po eni strani, ugotavlja Eve K. Sedgwick, velja, da opredelitev zadeva samo omejeno, specifično in bolj ali manj nespremenljivo manjšino, po drugi strani pa definicija vpliva na cel spekter ljudi in njihovih seksualnih praks – ne nazadnje vseh tistih, ki se “skrivajo” za oznako “heteroseksualnost”. Študijo sklene z nedualističnim sklepom: ne opredeli se za to ali ono definicijo, temveč vztrajala pri tem, da se mora anglo-ameriški kulturni prostor soočiti z vsemi omenjenimi opredelitvami, saj pogojujejo tako razumevanje seksualnosti kot drugih identitetnih kategorij, ki so prav tako ujete v dvo(s)polno logiko izključujočih nasprotij.

Tudi študija Epistemology of the Closet je na buren odziv naletela predvsem zunaj akademskega sveta. Njen jezik, tako kot jezik Težav s spolom, je težko dostopen in na ta način dovzeten za vrsto interpretacij, ki bolj ali manj odstopajo od želene. Ker je Eve K. Sedgwick epistemologijo skrivanja navezala na konkreten kontekst in specifično skupnost, je njeno razumevanje performativnosti vseeno sprožilo manj utopične posplošitve kot delo Judith Butler. A ne glede na avtoričino namero lahko rečemo, da je tako delo Eve K. Sedgwick kot delo Judith Butler v tistem delu ameriškega gibanja LGBTIQ, ki je posvojilo nekoč slabšalni izraz “queer” kot zase primernejšo, v političnem smislu pa eksplicitno levo opredelitev, naletelo na odobravanje, ker je nastopilo proti esencializmom, si prizadevalo za dekonstrukcijo dualizmov vpetih v falogocentrično védnost, in zagovarjalo spolno in seksualno raznolikost ter igrivosti kot potencialno učinkoviti orodji za aktiviste, ki želijo opustiti politiko identitet in graditi politiko solidarnosti ali multitud.

Po drugi strani je izjemna popularizacija queer teorije v družbah poznega kapitalizma sovpadla s pospešenim proizvajanjem kupljivih identitet. V tem ironičnem zasuku jo je danes dejansko mogoče razumeti kot novo legitimacijo identitetnih politik. Teresa de Laurentis se je terminu kmalu odpovedala prav zaradi takojšnjega “mainsteaminga”, v Evropi pa feministične teoretičarke, ki prav tako izhajajo iz poststrukturalizma (denimo Rosi Braidotti), queer teoriji odrekajo status teorije, saj menijo, da nima izdelane metodologije in lastnih konceptov. Še več, omenjeni deli Judith Butler in Eve K. Sedgwick bi zaman iskali na seznamih literature, predpisane za študije spolov na evropskih univerzah, čeprav je njun vpliv mogoče zaznati posredno: v dejstvu, da se feministična teorija v zadnjem desetletju ukvarja predvsem s telesom; z utelešanjem spolne razlike in umeščenostjo teles v prostor in čas, od koder izpeljuje možnosti in omejitve subjektivitet, ki se, tako kot queerovske identitete, ozirajo k politiki solidarnosti.

Študiji Epistemology of the Closet je sledila knjiga Tendencies (1993), v kateri je Eve K. Sedgwick izraz “queer” opredelila kot “pojem, ki se med drugim lahko nanaša na razprto mrežo možnosti, vrzeli, prekrivanj, neubranosti in sozvočij, spodrsljajev in pomenskih presežkov takrat, ko konstitutivni elementi nekega spola, neke seksualnosti ne ustrezajo (ali ne morejo ustrezati) enosmiselni označitvi”. Če dodam, da je avtorica to ohlapno definicijo umestila v hibridno “fiktokritiško” pisavo, v kateri se kritiški diskurz prepleta z literarnim in avtobiografskim, teoretsko pa črpa iz kritične in literarne teorije, psihoanalize (teorije objektnih odnosov Melanie Klein), lingvistike (Austinove teorije govornih dejanj), psihologije (Tomkinsove teorije afektov) in foucaultovske »hermenevtike sumničenja« (ter iz angleških prevodov in interpretacij budističnih besedil), je mogoče razumeti, zakaj njeno delo velja za dober primer queerovske akademske prakse, ki razvija lastno, “reparativno” epistemologijo, na kateri temelji tudi zbirka esejev Dotik občutka: Afekt, pedagogika, performativnost (v angleškem izvirniku je izšla leta 2003).

V Dotiku občutka so prenovljeni in vnovič objavljeni eseji iz osemdesetih, za katere avtorica meni, da ponujajo “obetavna orodja in tehnike za nedualistično misel in pedagogiko”. Združitev akademskega diskurza z avtobiografsko refleksijo, budizmom in avtoričino umetniško (poezija) in nebesedno dejavnostjo (tkanje) nakaže težave, na katere je Eve K. Sedgwick naletela pri poskusu, da bi nedualistično misel uveljavila znotraj obstoječega akademskega diskurza. Pravi, da se je morala odpovedati občutku poklicanosti za interveniranje v omenjeni diskurz, vanj vpeljati teorijo afektov in se dodatno opreti na nebesedno delovanje, da bi bilo to sploh mogoče. Da je mogoče, dokaže prav v Dotiku občutka. Ta intertekstualna zbirka zastavlja vrsto na videz nepovezanih vprašanj, denimo: kako izkušnja bolezni (metastazirani rak) vpliva na pedagoško in akademsko delo; je seksualnost bližje afektu ali gonu; kako lahko sram postane vzvod queerovske politike, performansa in ugodja; je paranoidno branje dandanes edina legitimna epistemologija, in kako vzpostaviti drugačno, reparativno branje.

Natančneje, Eve K. Sedgwick v Dotiku občutka premišlja o performativnosti in performansu (v drugem poglavju tako primerja reprezentacije meščanske poroke in suženjstva kot dveh različic mobilnega gledališča ali “potujočega proscenija” v pripovedništvu 19. stoletja), povezavah med sramom, teatralnostjo in queerovsko performativnostjo v The Art of the Novel Henryja Jamesa, posledicah toposa globine ali skritosti (kateremu sledi drama razkritja), queer aktivizmu v ZDA (v povezavi z ozaveščanjem o aidsu, gibanjem žrtev incesta, nasprotovanjem smrtni kazni, gibanjem za nadzor nad prodajo orožja itn.), pojmu teksture in afekta (poudari čutilo za tip, ki “hitreje in neposredneje kot drugi zaznavni sistemi razveljavi vsako dualistično razumevanje delovanja in nedelovanja”) in “psevdodihotomiji med zatiranjem in osvobajanjem”, ki bistveno določata zahodni akademski in politični diskurz.

Ker avtorica vztraja pri pozornosti na “posebne drobnarije govorice”, ki lahko “sorazmerno ublažijo epistemološka prizadevanja za doseg esencialne resnice”, dejstvo, da posameznih ugotovitev ne posplošuje, ne preseneča. V tem smislu njeno delo gotovo ni ustaljeno pedagoško (o smislu in pomenu drugačnih pedagoških pristopov beremo v zadnjem delu knjige, posvečenem pedagogiki zenovskega budizma). Bralko in bralca, ki od vplivne queer teoretičarke pričakujeta enosmiselno pojasnilo o tem, kaj queer teorija je in koga naslavlja, bo zbirka Dotik občutka zato bržkone razočarala.

O queerovstvu kot posebnem načinu doživljanja identitet in želje Eve K. Sedgwick piše v eseju Sram, teatralnost in queerovska performativnost: Umetnost romana Henryja Jamesa. V prvem delu po Silvanu Tomkinsu in Franzu Baschu sram opredeli kot temeljni afekt, ki ni posledica prepovedi ali zatiranja (kot pri Freudu), temveč izhaja iz izgube povratne informacije. Zardevanje in odmikanje pogleda je po tej interpretaciji posebna oblika komunikacije, ki “kaže na težave v komunikaciji in željo po obnovitvi medsebojnega stika z drugim”. Ker se sram (v nasprotju s krivdo) ne navezuje na neka predhodna dejanja, temveč je v sami izkušnji sramu, označuje performativni afekt. Kot druga plat ponosa, dostojanstva, ekstravertiranosti in ekshibicionizma je sram svojevrstna oblika teatralnega izvajanja.

Tej uvodni razlagi sledi zelo partikularna in drzna teza, da je Jamesov odnos do pisanja mogoče vzporejati z njegovim odnosom do analne erotike, natančneje: fistinga. Analiza je osredotočena na etimološke izvore in večpomenskost besed, s katerimi je Henry James v spremni besedi k Newyorški izdaji opisal svoje poglede na roman in ovrednotil svoje preteklo delo. V “nerodnem, ljubečem” branju, potrebnem za “vpeljavo teoretskega odklona”, avtorica tako izpostavi Jamesovo prizadevanje, da bi sprejel in vzljubil svoja pretekla dela, kljub temu, da se mu zdijo nedorasla, pošastna, celo pohabljena. Trenutek, v katerem se sram spremeni iz zaviralnega afekta v produktivno, ljubečo prakso, je za Eve K. Sedgwick queerovski, Jamesovo “uspešno integracijo sramu” pa označi za primer queerovske performativnosti, ki širi prostor identitete, ne da bi za to potrebovala esencialno oporo.

Čeprav avtorica v zaključku poglavja opozarja, da teze o Jamesovi performativnosti ni mogoče enačiti s teorijo o homoseksualnosti (teze iz Epistemology of the Closet so pogosto naletele na prav takšno branje), si vseeno dovoli previdno posplošitev. Pravi, da je za identiteto določenih queerov sram najbolj določujoč, po drugi strani pa specifične oblike političnega boja, kreativnosti in užitka, ki bi temeljile na sramu, še ne obstajajo. Prav zato naj bi se sram v povezavi s queerom dandanes v veliki meri prekrival s pojmom “odraščujočega, adolescentnega 'gejevstva'” in z oblikami izražanja, ki so zaradi svoje “čezmernosti” in “aktivizma” povezane z lezbično in gejevsko kulturo. Kot primere navaja parade ponosa, držo možač, dragovstvo, sadomazohizem, fisting, kult dive, transvestitski kabaret, izumetničenost – skratka, vse tisto, kar spada v kulturo campa.

Za Eve K. Sedgwick parodično uprizarjanje spolnih vlog torej ni edina queerovska ali potencialno nesramna in subverzivna taktika (ta očitek pogosto in ne povsem upravičeno leti na Težave s spolom Judith Butler), četudi trdi, da obstoječe oblike političnega boja, ki se zavzemajo za odpravo individualnega ali skupinskega sramu, tega ne morejo doseči. In čeprav nadaljuje, da imajo parade ponosa in drugi boji za dostojanstvo marginaliziranih skupin drugačne učinke, da na primer spodbujajo postopno preobražanje ali transfiguracije samih akterjev, prevlada vtis, da Eve K. Sedgwick trdi, da so obstoječe oblike političnega delovanja neučinkovite in nemočne zato, ker predstavljajo nekakšno “adolescentno fazo” queerovskega gibanja, ki naj bi se na tej točki soočalo predvsem z zaviralnimi učinki sramu. Je zato “politiko solidarnosti in istovetenja lažje razumeti skozi prizmo izmuzljive dinamike sramu”? Ker avtorica odkrito podpira aktivizem LGBTIQ, je ta razorožujoči sklep le malo verjeten, navajam pa ga, ker ga njena izmuzljiva pisava ne izključuje.

Besedilo Paranoidno branje in reparativno branje oziroma: tako zelo si paranoičen, da si verjetno misliš, da je ta esej o tebi je prvič izšlo leta 1997 kot uvod k zborniku Novel Gazing: Queer Readings in Fiction. V pričujoči izdaji se esej ne navezuje zgolj na literarno teorijo, temveč podrobno razdela lastnosti veliko bolj razširjene kritiške navade, katero je Paul Ricoeur poimenoval “hermenevtika sumničenja”, Eve K. Sedgwick pa “paranoidno branje”. Gre za anticipativni, refleksivni, mimetični in večinoma tavtološki diskurz, ki “zasleduje, ujame in razpostavi, pridobiva novo védenje o tem, kar že vemo”. Po Tomkinsu ga umesti med pisanje, ki se zanaša na negativne afekte (sovraštvo, zavist, tesnobo) in kot “močna teorija” teži k generalizaciji. Paranoidno branje postane problematično, ko se iz ene od možnosti spremeni v imperativ, ki zaradi vere v moč demistifikacije in razkritja določenega pojava kot problema predpostavlja, da ima intelektualec “kruto in omalovažujočo” pravico zahtevati od (drugih) ljudi, naj ozavestijo svojo bolečino ter od tod črpajo moč za upor proti zavajanju, zatiranju in revščini. Vprašanje reprezentacije in hegemoničnih impulzov v zahodnih diskurzih, ki se najbolj polemično zastavlja v postkolonialnih študijah, Eve K. Sedgwick torej kritično osvetli s pomočjo koncepta paranoidnosti kot temeljne značilnosti epistemologije sumničenja.

Paranoidnemu branju zoperstavi reparativno branje ali “proustovsko epistemologijo”, v kateri ni potrebno, da resnica, če naj jo kot takšno prepoznamo, “boli”, temveč se lahko utemeljuje tudi v veselju. Čeprav sta oba pristopa tavtološka, avtorica meni, da je vednost, ki stremi k ugodju, manj tavtološka od vednosti, ki želi preprečevati boleča presenečenja, saj v nasprotju z njo ne teži k posploševanju. Reparativno branje torej zagovarja drugačno etiko, ki omogoča tudi preučevanje tistih mehanizmov nadzorovanja, ki so očitni, a jih paranoidno branje zapostavlja zaradi njihove “banalnosti”. Po drugi strani omogoča raziskovanje širokega področja med “zatiranjem” in “osvobajanjem”, ki za paranoidni pogled ni relevantno, saj je usmerjeno na ugodje (“zgolj estetsko”) ali pa si odkrito želi izboljšav (“le reformatorsko”).

Na tej točki se Eve K. Sedgwick vrne k Foucaultu in prvemu zvezku Zgodovine seksualnosti. Pravi, da sta ugodje in želja po izboljšavah obstoječega v zahodnem kulturnem prostoru tako ničeva, ker je “konceptualna zanka”, značilna tudi za Foucaultovo analizo dihotomije med zatiranjem in osvobajanjem, pogosto pripeljala do interpretacij, ki so dvopólni red ponovno vzpostavile v “še abstraktnejši obliki postvaritve hegemonega in subverzivnega. Navidezna etična nujnost takšnih têrminov (...) preobrazi 'hegemono' v drugo ime za status quo (tj. v vse, kar je), medtem ko 'subverzivno' čedalje bolj opredeljuje v izključno negativnem odnosu do hegemonega”. Posledica tega dejanja za “srednja, vmesna področja delovanja” je, da se mora odnos posameznika do obstoječega, če noče postati reaktiven in razcepljen, spremeniti v odnos potrošnika: posameznikove izbire se zožijo na “sprejemanje ali zavračanje (kupiti ali ne kupiti) ene ali druge pojavnosti obstoječega, ki prikazujeta le dve skrajnosti, prisilo in prostovoljnost”. Eve K. Sedgwick zaključi, da samo “srednja, vmesna območja lahko ponudijo prostor za učinkovito ustvarjalnost in spremembo”, pri čemer opozarja, da tudi queer teorija pogosto favorizira tiste oblike družbenega delovanja oziroma aktivizma, ki so že prepoznane kot “relevantne”.

Eseji v Dotiku občutka ne pozivajo k novim revolucionarnim teoretskim ali aktivističnim praksam, temveč vztrajajo pri politiki, ki deluje ob že obstoječih praksah. To (ob)robno ali vmesno pozicijo Eve K Sedgwick izrazi s prislovom “zraven” zaradi njegove “ireduktibilne prostorske umeščenosti” in zato, ker dopušča nedualistične, protislovne in nevzročne izpeljave. “Zraven obsega širok razpon želja, istovetenja, predstavljanja, odklanjanja, primerjanja, razločevanja, rivalstva, naslanjanja, obračanja, posnemanja, umikanja, privlačevanja, napadanja, izkrivljanja ter drugih odnosov,” to relacijsko perspektivo pa v študiji Queer Phenomenology: Orientations, Objects, Others (2006) na drugačen način zagovarja tudi Sara Ahmed. Pojem spolne usmeritve razume dobesedno in prostorsko: kot telesno umeščenost v določen prostor in čas, v katerem se posameznik “znajde” ali orientira samo, če se v njem počuti domače ali pa ima možnost vzpostaviti razmere domačnosti. Če se družbeni odnosi vzpostavljajo po ustaljenih poteh, v queer fenomenologiji prednjači koncept “dezorientacije”, ki dane odnose moti in preureja, saj išče nove poti in nove prostore domačnosti. Tako Sara Ahmed kot Eve K. Sedgwick torej razmišljata o načinih queer pozicioniranja, ki so poleg obstoječega redu in ne v utopičnem prostoru onstran heteroseksualne matrice.

“Odprta intelektualna drža” Eve K. Sedgwick, “ki ne samo, da veliko ve, ampak je tudi nekonvencionalna” (tako njeno pisavo v spremni besedi označi Marina Gržinić), seveda ne trdi, da je reparativno branje boljše od paranoidnega, zagovarja pa tolikšno razširitev intelektualnega prostora, da bosta v njem lahko soobstajala oba. Na tem mestu je treba dodati, da njeno lastno vztrajanje pri protislovjih in dvoumnostih, združevanje konceptov iz skrajno različnih teoretskih smeri in ne nazadnje njen izmuzljivi slog, ki marsikatero primero pusti nedokončano, dodatno zapletejo razumevanje Dotika občutka. Avtoričina odprtost bralki in bralcu ne omogoča vedno vpogleda v to, ali je opravila svoje konceptualno delo ali pa je predvsem elegantno zaključila svoj tavtološki argument, ki je sicer (deskriptivno in terminološko) nedvomno natančen. Slednje velja tudi za prevod Tanje Velagić, s pomočjo katerega bo branje pričujoče zbirke esejev v užitek tudi tistim bralcem, katere argumentativna moč Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick zanima v enaki meri kot njen slog.

Queer teorija se je, podobno kot postkolonialne študije, v ZDA razvijala na naprednejših univerzitetnih oddelkih za literarno teorijo, medtem ko se slovenski oddelki obema teoretskima pristopoma zaenkrat dokaj uspešno izogibajo. K spremni besedi Marine Gržinić, ki kritizira nedostopnost queerovskih študij v slovenščini, in pravi, da bi afekt sramu v tem primeru koristil državnim mehanizmom za podeljevanje sredstev za humanistiko, ni odveč dodati, da je za politiko molka v enaki meri odgovoren tudi univerzitetni sistem. Možnost, da se v slovenskem prostoru, ki ima svojo lastno queerovsko predzgodovino in sedanjost, razvijajo študije queera, tako zaenkrat ostaja odvisna od avtoric in avtorjev, ki delujejo zunaj institucij, ameriških teoretskih virov in prevodne dejavnosti manjših založb, ki so, tako kot Emanat, prepoznale njihov potencial.

Ocena knjige Dotik občutka je izšla v zadnji številki revije Borec (LX/2008, št. 652-656, str. 338-347) poleg eseja Eve K. Sedgwick Paranoidno branje in reparativno branje oziroma: tako zelo si paranoičen, da si verjetno misliš, da je ta esej o tebi.

10th Rdeče zore / Red Dawns festival

Festival program & blog
Luca Donnini's photos
Ruzgar Gözum's & Jasmina Klančar's photos

Presentation at Lad.i.y.fest Berlin

Feminist street actions and graffiti in Ljubljana

In 2008, Špela Oberstar and I made a tour of Ljubljana, the capital of Slovenia, and took pictures of all the graffiti and street art pieces that we could find and interpret as feminist and/or lesbian. Earlier that year, I dug through private and public archives in search of whitened-out graffiti and half-forgotten street actions in order to compile a sketch of a very dispersed yet loosely connected feminist activist alliance in Ljubljana.

In the presentation, I am going to show a selection of photos of graffiti and street art pieces, and share some stories about the feminist street actions that took place in the last few years. I am going to interpret them as sporadic, anonymous, fleeting, and mainly illegal interventions in the dominant cultural order by drawing parallels with relevant political events and written herstory of feminist and lesbian initiatives of the same period. My pretty obvious argument is that these are some of the available and fun forms of “streetwise activism” that offer us public visibility and the possibility of creating and intermediating our own knowledge and values...

In English. All genders welcome.

Saturday, January 17^th 2009 at 19.00. K9, Kinzigstrasse 9 (U-Samariterstrasse), Berlin-Friedrichshain.

On the same day at 14.00, there is also going to be a stencil workshop. For details, see the Winterfest webpage or myspace.

In Slovenian, the article about graffiti was previously published in ČKZ journal's special issue on street art – and here. In English, the article about street actions was published in Cunterview. Also in English, yet another shorter version about graffiti, street art and street actions was published in Revue Amnis in pdf. In short, an old story;)

Inside The Great Muddigger

The PostProloClub takes place once a month in Vienna. It is a space to present, discuss, and criticize projects, ideas, texts, or whatsoever the invited PostProlos are working on. It is there to learn how to talk, to talk wild and big!

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The PostProloClub is going to temporarily inhabit the complicated mind of the great muddigger (Caenulentus major) in order to gain insight into the changes this species on the verge of extinction has had to face when it was forced to move from a dessicated swamp, his natural habitat, to a rented flat. Ever since he has been living with his human friend, zoologist Bata Leviki, the great muddigger has been suffering from a mild form of depression. He now spends most of his time soaking his dried-out body in the bathtub, thinking about the price of domestication, adaptation to human ways.

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Fig. 1: Caenulentus major's natural habitat (Photo by Bata Leviki)

On Saturday, unexpected voices in his head suggest that domestication or, as they put it, the process of becoming human, has its advantages. They remind him that Bata Leviki is going through a similar process, wondering about his own transformation into a companion species. PostProlos also prepare a delicious veggie soup that, as the muddigger eventually admits, tastes much better than swamp microorganisms – or, for that matter, Bata's endless plates of spaghetti. After they generously offer him several shots of vodka, a most unusual yet empowering conversation takes place. That same night, the great muddigger is overcome by a most lucid dream, or perhaps a premonition about what is yet to come...
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Fig. 2: Becoming human... (Photo by Bata Leviki)

Saturday December 13, 2008 at 18:00.
VBKÖ, Maysedergasse 2 (4th floor), 1010 Vienna.
Find a map here.
Check Sunday's program here.

PostProloClub's Interview with Tea Hvala.

In Other Wor(l)ds - The Zine

The zine includes seven science fiction stories written by eight participants of the In Other Wor(l)ds workshop. They were written on September 6^th 2008 at Ladyfest Amsterdam by Brigitte, Anne, Sara, Diny, Caroline, Nina, Anouk and yours truly.

A5, 50 b/w pages. Sold out.

The stories can be read here as well.

Stripburger #48 is out!

The 48th issue of comics magazine Stripburger features 96 pages of eye-candy! Highlights: Dongery, a group of comics artists from Norway (Bendik Kaltenborn, Flu Hartberg, Sindre W. Goksøyr and Kristoffer Kjølberg), Latvian comics scene (Anete Melece, Kaspars Groshevs and Ingrīda Pičukāne) and an interview with Marco Corona, one of the most intriguing contemporary Italian cartoonists. Stripburger #48 also boasts with an unusually high percentage of Slovene authors. Domen Finžgar makes his debut in this issue, while Damijan Sovec returns after a long absence with a series of travel comics. Other highlights include Olive Booger (France), Janek Koza (Poland), Tea Hvala (Slovenia), Gašper Rus (Slovenia) and the collaborative work by Koco and Matej Lavrenčič (Slovenia) - the latter is responsible for the cover illustration as well.

Women's activism - articles in Revue Amnis

Printed and online magazine Revue Amnis (University of Western Brittany, Brest, France) published a shortened version of my essay Streetwise Feminism: Feminist and Lesbian Street Actions, Street Art and Graffiti in Ljubljana (in English) - together with four other articles about women, feminism and activism.

There, you can also find articles about: the role of women during the Spanish civil war (from the perspective of the rebels), Ni Putes ni Soumises movement in France, white women's fight against segregation in the Southern United States (1920-64) and the participation of women in revolutionary organizations between the 60s and the 80s in Argentina.

The Storm

Written by Tea Hvala
Translated by Maida Alilović
Illustrated by Jakob Klemenčič

After lunch and a short rest my grandmother and I were standing in front of the house again. With our hands on our hips, we stood inspecting pieces of scrap metal that once formed a tin roof, but were now lying in the grass; the aftermath of yesterday's ravaging. The day had been sunny and hot, but already in the early afternoon, humidity lay heavy on the high plain, followed by thick, dark winds from the south and a downpour that riddled the entire village – including my grandma’s house, exposed on the edge of the plain, naked and treeless. A strong thrust of wind came hurling up the hillside, toppling the flowers, blowing the laundry away and lifting the tiles that came plummeting into the backyard. In the morning, while we were clearing up the debris, a clear sky was stretching above us, pretending it knew nothing about it.

Early on, we picked up and piled the soaked logs; before lunch we set out to gather the tiles and we were left with less than half an hour of work. I put on my gloves and climbed the ladder. My grandma handed me another piece of sheet metal. I pulled it towards me, measured the distance; with difficulty, I managed to throw it in with the other pieces. The slightly wet corroding surface was slipping from my hands, the thin metal was bending on its own weight and with every throw it undulated above the ground. I worked reluctantly, convinced that the sheets of metal and the panels weighing them down will be landing in the grass with the next storm. When we were finished, I told my grandma that it would have been better to have used something heavier instead of the poles.

“Yes,” she said, “we could bind the roof with a rope,” but instead of grabbing the idea instantly as usual, she gazed towards the gateway. She slowly nodded to a man, who lifted his hand to greet her and was approaching slowly. In the other hand, he was holding a leather briefcase and seemed rather classy, too classy in fact to be selling thin air.

“I didn't want to startle you, you could have been hurt,” he said and shook my hand. He didn't introduce himself; he only smiled and looked at us both, although I was still standing on the top of the ladder. It finally dawned on me that he was cross-eyed, and that in spite of his appearance he must be selling thin air.

“What will it be,” I was short, but he didn't hear me. He turned to my grandmother and said that he could see we had a rough time yesterday.

I would have told him to go to hell, but my grandma had already hurried to tell him that in these parts the storm was not as violent, that it was much worse in Tolminsko and Idrijsko, a child was killed! The man was sympathetic, how could he not have been. Then he put down his briefcase and passed me a panel in his crisp white shirt. My grandmother got nervous and told him he would soil himself, but he calmed her down every time he handed me another pole. I was left with no choice; I took the poles until we weighed down the entire roof. My grandmother was thanking this cunning man for the help and I knew I had to come down as soon as possible, step in between, start small talk about weather and let him know we won't buy anything – before my grandma invites him in. But meanwhile he had already asked where he could wash his hands...

In the kitchen he stepped to the washing sink and supposedly for the sake of conversation asked where all the men of the house were. I laughed and asked if he missed them. He ran one eye over me.

“Do you live here?” he asked.

“When I need to,” I tried to avoid answering, but it was too late; he turned to my grandmother and repeated the question. Blind and deaf for our battle, she began explaining how she lived with her husband, who was at that time away, but is otherwise at home, a retired mason and carpenter. I was waiting for her to naively add that he has an unlisted workshop across the yard, but he only works for people who know him, and there is no danger that they would report his activity, although one should be careful, because in this day and age you never know who you're dealing with. Surprisingly, she said nothing. She was standing by the stove, Cross-eyes was lingering by the dining table and had at least that much courtesy not to sit without being invited to. I found a spot on the chest by the door and took out a cigarette from my pocket, although I had never smoked inside before. Cross-eyes opened his briefcase, laid a compass on the table and two rods, forming the letter L. I lighted the cigarette. He cast his left eye over me and asked my grandmother where she slept. She shifted nervously.

“Over there,” she said and looked up. “But I haven't always.”

“Do you sleep with your head facing the north?”

“No,” she said, “I’m turned this way.” She pointed to the apple tree under the balcony and Cross-eyes had to consult his compass.

“You know,” he said, “that's not best for your health. Have you been sleeping there long? ”

“No,” she said, “I married into this village. Before, I was living in the hamlet on the hill over there. You can see it from this window.” She did not utter its name. Her birthplace was more sacred than the kitchen in which she worked and ate for forty years. She kept staring through the window, so I told him to take a seat.

“I mustn’t,” he was quick to respond, “a radiesthetist who sits down before finishing his job, is no radiesthetist at all.” Cross-eyes is a dowser, that explains all the annoying questions and the rods! I blurred out: “Why? Are your feet perhaps less sensitive to radiation than your behind? ” My grandmother jittered, looked at me fearsomely and rushed to the man. She apologized for my rudeness and I could have screamed of anger and misery. I wished he would finally leave, wished he hadn't come in at all! With a rope or wire, with poles, no matter what, my grandma and I would be fixing the tin roof, but now ... I lighted another cigarette. The dowser held the rods and positioned himself in the center of the kitchen: it was show time. My grandmother collapsed onto a chair and in his sly manner he began explaining how the natural human position is either upright or lying, whereas sitting is unnatural, for it causes the spine to bend, creating an obstacle for the bodily ‘forces’. He pointed the long ends of the rod towards the floor, waited for them to stop moving and then lifted them, creating a right angle with the floor. The rods parted slowly and remained in the position until he lowered them again.

“Radiation should be measured in every room. Even if your bedroom is, as you say, above the kitchen, it doesn’t mean that the forces are as strong as in here,” he played smart. With his rods apart he headed towards me. When he walked, they trembled and began to draw near to each other. I sat firmly on the wooden chest, where only dry wood was stored: matchwood, sawing and paper that in my knowledge only radiate heat and light. Perhaps it was the ironbound bottom, if this ancient chest even had one, that caused it, but then again it might not have mattered, now that the radiesthetist was standing decisively too close. His rods were pointing at me, with the right one he aimed directly towards my eye and goggled at me with his cross eyes.

“You see,” he established, “radiation is very strong here and you’re smoking.” I didn’t ask what difference the smoke made; I dodged him and ran to my grandma. He was still standing by the chest. He asked whether there was running water anywhere near.

“Yes,” I hurried, “you missed the plumbing for less than three meters!”

“I’m talking about subterranean waters,” he responded,” they emit magnetic radiation that harms our well-being and in the long run, causes disease. Madam,” he addressed my grandma, “didn’t you mention you had health problems?” Who doesn’t at her age, I grunted to myself and my grandmother began to list her thyroid, kidneys, blood pressure thankfully, but was rudely cut off by Mr. Doctor, who had established that her chest and neck have long been exposed to radiation.

“I’m not left with much time anyway,” she sighed in disappointment, causing professional duty agitation with Cross-eyes.

“Madam, don’t say that. You’re still young. I told my mother, who must be older than you, that each year, if nothing else, means twelve monthly pensions, Twelve! You have to look after yourself. Once the disease spreads, there is no turning back.” He looked at me with his deviant eye.

“Disease is like subterranean water. At first, it runs deep underground, but suddenly it erupts above. You see?” I smiled and shrug my shoulders.

“You know, sir, in these parts the ground is porous, limestone, and here, water usually runs underground, but then it disappears even deeper.” My grandmother smirked and it looked as if the dowser had surrendered. He sighed and slowly nodded, laid aside his rods and finally took a seat at the table. I marched towards the sink and poured him a glass of water.

“Have you heard of the Murmuring Rock?” my grandmother asked him. “You know, back home in the village, they said there once was a massive rock in the woods and it murmured. If you leaned your ear against it, you could hear a murmur, as if a river ran inside or underneath it. At one time the rock split in half and a big crevice was formed, so big in fact, an entire person could walk into it. Fresh water came running out, because there was a spring inside the rock. But the ground there isn’t limestone…”

“Madam, on the top of the Brkini hills I came across subterranean springs and rivers, but people didn’t believe me. Like you, they tried to persuade me this was impossible in such rocky parts. But I also met people who were searching for water with a dowsing rod and found it. They didn’t know how it functioned, but they saw it worked and that was enough for them.” He waited for the words to make a proper impression and repeated that beneath the house, close to the wooden chest, there must be subterranean water.

“I don’t know,” my grandma said, “all the springs are on the other side of the village, where the limestone ends and that green stone starts. When we didn’t have plumbing, we went to fetch water there, by the well. The water is there, horribly cold water,” she added.

“There’s water here, I’m telling you,” he persisted, “but I don’t know where it springs and it is difficult to estimate how deep under it runs.” He finished his drink, put down the glass and his eyes went for the brief case. He seized the rods.

“Can I give it a try?” I was in haste. “I won’t demagnetize them, right?”

“Go ahead,” he sighed, “hold them, they’re not magnetic, they’re chrome. Nothing special indeed.” He pointed to the shorter end, the handles that were inserted into the metal so that during dowsing the spinning part remained loose. I picked them up and carefully sat on the chest, for the rods were swinging left and right with the slightest move. I straightened my back and stood astride. I firmly held the handles and lowered the points. I waited for them to completely settle down and then I rolled them upwards, as he did before. They were pointing into his direction, and then the left point really moved, quickly followed by the right one into the opposite direction. I held my breath and pressed harder. The space between the ends kept increasing, they pointed each in their own direction, forming a straight line, and then the left one in a single move, swung ninety degrees and stopped on my chest. Not one, they both stared at me!

“What’s wrong with you,” I heard the radiesthetist, “you don’t have to press so hard, I never do. Drop them!”

I would have, but my palms, as if they weren’t my own, only held on tighter to the handles. I felt the pressure from my fists moving towards my shoulders and neck, binding me, holding me in a vise. In my abdomen I felt a different kind of pressure, a tingling that pushed onto my stomach, bladder and intestines. I wanted to run to the bathroom, but I couldn’t, I remained seated on the chest, still holding on to the rods. I could barely tell my hands apart from the floor, it got so dark suddenly. Where did my grandmother go? Instead of her, I saw some sort of whirling in the distance, sparks or stars, dancing in circles. They swarmed and twinkled, pulling and sipping me in their direction, and if I leaned forward into the darkness, it seemed like the pressure slackened. So I leaned again, and fell directly into the whirl. It caught on and twisted me and the pressure was gone instantly. I was thinking how everything is over now, but my body became too real and my own the very second I supported myself on my arms and looked about. I was sitting – on the floor by the chest. There were the damn rods. Let them lie, I was encouraging myself, I’m the one that has to get up. I leaned on the chest and got up. I slowly hobbled to the doorway and by the door I saw my grandmother and the dowser standing in front of the house. They were staring into the pile of wood that was covered half an hour ago. Why were the tin plates lying on the ground?

“What happened?” I asked, and my grandmother turned around abruptly, startled.

“God help us,” she said and squeezed pass me into the kitchen. She returned, carrying the rods, and handed them to the radiesthetist in silence. He placed them into his case and left without saying goodbye, without asking what the rods were doing with me while the tin plates were flying in the air … or I was doing with them? My grandmother stared at his back until he disappeared behind the corner. Then she told me to get up on that ladder as quickly as possible.

Published in Stripburger nr. 48.