Playing Peter Pan Conceptua izing "Bois" in Contemporary Queer Theory L 'auteure nous initie h l'kmergence du dialope qui se pose h la jonction de lbrientation c boi w et avoue l2vidente complexitkde[.]
pragmatically and empirically to show how AIDES approached the very sensistive subject of bareback. Evans shows how, for Preciado, the roots of queer activism lie in the collective response to the HIV crisis, even if queer activism today demands that distance be taken both from Dustan’s ‘path of death’ (as Preciado puts it) and from the authoritarianism of self-appointed guardians of ‘the community’. Davis offers a queer historiographical account of the French front in the bareback wars and a critique of Act Up-Paris’s role in them. Rojas Castro and Girard show what was possible in terms of health prevention around bareback in the shadow of the bareback wars. They present a study of a series of sexual health workshops for barebackers run by AIDES in 2009. The focus then shifts to the UK with an article by Matthew Grundy-Bowers, Sally Hardy and Eamonn McKeown reporting on a qualitative empirical study of the impact of sexual position (or role) in bareback encounters. They show how some men’s behaviour in abandoning condoms varies by position. For queertheory, in this study it is remarkable how the crude (‘raw’) fantasies of insemination pour forth from the interviewees’ speech in a way that strains against its clinical frame, language and presumptions.
Finally then, management as a discipline, as a place that I inhabit on an everyday basis. Whilst much of what I have suggested above has clear implications for ‘intellectual’ practices generally, I wish to focus here on some of the institutional issues. Above all, I would say, queer insists on a reflexivity about knowledge, about the places and spaces whereby certain forms of knowing are legitimated, about the subjects and objects of enquiry and the manners that pertain to its production and distribution. Now in one sense this obviously means disrupting certain assumptions about the place of queers within the academy. Most of Higher Education is still premised on largely heterosexist assumptions about ‘being married to the job’. It trades on the increasingly hyperproductive and hypercompetitive preconditions for an academic ‘career’ which rely on instrumental reasoning and abstraction (Wiegman, 1997). This might be seen as a liberal problem of inclusion, and addressing it requires that queers are brought in from the cold - in terms of different living arrangements, pension schemes, anti-discrimination policies and so on (see, for example, Humphrey, 1999). But, more importantly for my argument, queer also disrupts some of the pretensions that the liberal academy has about itself. Queering the academy does not only mean making an academy of queers, but queering the idea of the academy. Like feminism, queer theory’s foregrounding of desire and power can:
This article considers how Bracha L. Ettinger’s The Matrixial Borderspace (2006) complements, challenges and possibly extends topical discourses and critical approaches within queertheory. The emphasis in The Matrixial Borderspace on ‘subjectivity as encounter occurring at shared-border spaces’ 2 shares much in common with queertheory projects that aim to destabilize Oedipal logic through emphasizing notions of affect, sensation, becoming, texturality, potentiality and so on; many of which draw upon the psychoanalytic-philosophical riffs of Deleuze and Guattari, for example. While the book, and prefacing remarks of Judith Butler and Griselda Pollock insist that the concept of the matrixial (latin for womb) does not essentialize ‘the feminine’ or ‘femininity’ on biological grounds, and that the matrixial does not seek to overthrow the phallic principle, but ‘surf[s] beneath/beside’ it 3 , the ‘archaic intrauterine unities of the maternal body’ become the starting point for imagining subjectivity as encounter between ‘several co-affecting partial- subjectivities that are never entirely used or totally lost’ 4 .
Intergenerational is a term which can be used to describe sexual rela- tionships between individuals of different ages, including those below the age of consent; it implies that such relationships can be consensual and non-harmful. From a feminist perspective the term seems prob- lematic for its apparent failure to differentiate the non-consensual, the coercive and the abusive and for the way in which it elides hierarchies of gender; it does, perhaps, generate anxieties about attempts to rationalise or excuse the sexual exploitation of children and adolescents by adults. However, what this term does do is focus critical attention on the ‘age of consent’ as a legal concept which is historically and discursively con- structed. It is evident from a feminist perspective that the age of consent has served patriarchal mandates, serving less to mark a girl’s entry into sexual majority than her entry into the marriage market. But it is also evident that the construction of a distinct category of homosexual consent has criminalised expressions of same-sex desire between adoles- cents and young adults. Queer theorists have explored the relationship between intergenerational sexuality and heteronormative imperatives; where for feminism the normalisation of sexual relationships between men and girls is deeply suspect, for queertheory the specifi c forms of censure to which consensual same-sex intergenerational sexuality is subject is equally demanding of interrogation. This chapter is an attempt to conceptualise some of the complex issues which Homes’s novel raises. My thesis, in brief, is that feminist perspectives on child sexuality con- tinue to be shaped by radical feminist critiques of child sexual abuse which are premised on rigid gendered hierarchies of power and which see the sexual abuse of children as ‘a manifestation of the oppression of females inherent in patriarchy’. 6 By contrast the ‘queer child’, as theo-
! I spent 8 hour days meeting with visitors to the exhibit. I was kept busy most days with a steady trickle of guests. The busiest time of day was after 2PM until I closed at 7PM. Several nights I stayed until 8PM, as there were too many people; and I was having a great time being in the space and hanging out with a wide range of guests that reflected the Ann Arbor community. I had many fascinating conversations about what the word queer means in the 21st century. Many people understood and related to the concept that queer has a larger meaning beyond sexuality and gender. Most also knew it as a derogatory word that is equivalent to “fag”. I would often say that if you identify or position yourself against what is considered the norm, then you are queer. Many people related personal experiences and stories about how they could relate to being queer because of race, class, body shape, style of dress, religion, choice of lifestyle, and the myriad ways each of us can be figured as “not normal.” I met with many
accessible writing style to make Feminism is Queer a lucid and intelligent treatment of an essentially complex and controversial concept. Feminism is Queer would be an excellent text for a wide range of introductory level feminist/gender/women's studies courses, grounded in any number of disciplines. Keenly aware of the way individuals construct knowledge, of how we all come to a deeper understanding of complex concepts and theories, Marinucci offers contextualized explanations of relevant concepts and terms as they are introduced in each chapter, provides easily understandable illustrations of complex ideas, and astutely cautions readers against common confusions and problematic inferences. Throughout, she situates the discussion of queerness in historical, cross-cultural, scientific and philosophical contexts in a way that deepens the reader's understanding of the intersection of gender, sex, and sexuality.' Nancy Slonneger Hancock, Northern Kentucky University 'In wonderfully lucid, accessible, and penetrating analyses, Mimi Marinucci makes the case that feminist and queertheory are inseparable allies - or should be - in mapping the epistemologies of sex and gender that shape the subjective, political, and embodied realities of all of us. With its comprehensive appendix and carefully organized chapters, Feminism is Queer is an ideal text for teaching about gender, sexuality, and the practice of theorizing. My students are going to love this book!' - Marjorie Jolles, Women's and Gender Studies Program, Roosevelt University
In his article, Damien Barlow provides a survey of queer fiction published in Australia between 2000 and 2014. Barlow discusses forty works of fiction, which he argues can be classified variously under the labels ‘contemporary realism’, ‘surrealism’, ‘historical novels’ and ‘cosmopolitanism’. One of the editors of this special issue, Dallas J. Baker 1 , argues that creative writing is an appropriate site for ‘ethical interventions’ into subjectivity and for explorations into how philosophy, in this case QueerTheory, can be applied as a way of life in which new forms of subjectivity are explored and produced. Baker’s article is particularly indebted to the work of Michel Foucault. In her piece, Karina Quinn revisits Cixous’ theory of Écriture Feminine, and suggests that it has distinct limitations. Quinn instead conceptualises what she terms ‘écriture matièr’, that is, ‘a call for all bodies to write themselves, as they find themselves, in this moment, now.’
This thesis starts with a brief introduction to gender and queertheory in order to situate this type of photography within a suitable framework that aligns with theories of photography. Furthermore in chapter one, specific queer aesthetics—such as queer time and space, affective and haptic aspects of queer photography, and opacity—are identified and treated as potential tools of subversion. To demonstrate the interchangeability of queer aesthetic features in queer photography, I have chosen to analyze the works of three contemporary artists: Zanele Muholi, Momo Okabe, and Zach Blas. These artists work in three different countries and cultural contexts but in the same historical period. My selection of their works is strongly personal as they were chosen based on my own perception of their works and the ways in which they resonate affectively with me. As such, I attempt in the next few chapters to delineate as accurately as possible the ways in which certain photographs can affect their viewers. This thesis additionally includes an epilogue discussing my photographic series Showering with Glasses (2018) where I aim to answer the question: What are possible methods for approaching queer aesthetics from an artist's perspective, and how can these methods be made to function as queer tactics? By exploring this process, I hope to provide an artist perspective on how to approach queer art from the maker’s position and demonstrate the urgency for creating queer art.
that offered by Lee Edelman in his (in)famous No Future: QueerTheory and the Death Drive. For Edelman, the social order is grounded in a constitutive heteronormativity and what he calls “reproductive futurism” that positions the figure of the Child as the horizon and beneficiary of every social and political action (2004, 2). If, as Hegel would have it, the ethical order, and therefore the society and politics it sustains, are rooted in the reproductive structure of the heterosexual family, then queers are constitutively excluded from all ethical, social, and political relations tout court. It is for this reason that Edelman urges queers to inhabit the radical
Critical paradigm perspective frames gender identity, for both men and women, as socially created in a patriarchal context (hooks, 2000). This paradigm intersects with other social systems that advantage some and disadvantage others on the basis of social group identity such as class, race, sexual orientation (Bell, 1997. QueerTheory was originally defined in 1981 (de Lauretis) after it evolved out of a combination of LGBTQ and feminist studies. The usage of the term "queer" as defined within QueerTheory is less of an identity than an embodied critique of identity. At its inception, QueerTheory was associated with gay politics and encouraged out leaders to “wear the label”. Two decades later, QueerTheory is used more often to explain everything that is not heterosexual within academic discourse or is used as an all-inclusive term for LGBTQ people and distanced itself from political affiliations (de Lauretis, 1994). At its root, QueerTheory continues to explore the complex constructs of identity and how that identity reproduces and performs in society, (Creswell, 2007).
Abstract: The essay starts with the author’s Positioning, a feminist practice of disclosing her own intellectual and political perspectives – since knowledge is situated, never neutral. In section 1. Com- ing to terms with bisexuality naming practices, labeling and definitions are discussed, to introduce the reader to the arena of debate around bisexuality and queer, and introduce intersectional and decolonial perspectives. Section 2. From the margins of queertheory demonstrates how bisexuality has occupied, from its very origins, a marginal space in Lgbti queer studies; it also touches upon the struggle against biphobia and for recognition of bisexual people. Section 3. Bisexuality and queer spaces – beyond Western eyes looks at the epistemological limitations of the monosexual paradigm within queer spaces, the necessity to decolonize them and use non-dichotomous perspectives. The section giving the title to the essay 4. Why bisexuality is queer explains the author’s motivations, to be taken as an axiomatic starting point for an earnest discussion among queer scholars and activists. 5. Re-queering the queer movement ends with the necessity of intersectional alliances, in order not to restrict to sex, gender and sexuality the subversive potential of the queer perspective; and the need to take into account some neglected topics, such as Poly-amorous and Asexual love.
But the absence of “fixed referent[s]”, which is so frequently emphasized (albeit all too often with a merely ritual function) in queertheory is in no way arbitrary or merely cosmetic. The foundational and definitional gesture of queer, on the theoretical as on the political plane, as I remarked at the outset, is the questioning and deconstruction of categories and their con- sequent deontologization; this gesture cannot have a fixed referent because its nature is by definition abstract, since the plane on which it takes place is purely logical. Unfortunately, in the vast majority of cases, this questioning and deconstruction has been exclusively focused on a narrow and com- pletely predictable range of categories (gender, sexuality, sometimes – for particularly adventurous theorists – ethnicity; class is curiously absent...); and this lack, at the same time, of imagination, and of intellectual, ethi- cal, and political courage threatens to reduce queer merely to one of the many theoretical labels, interchangeable in their irrelevance, available in the department store of postmodern academia. But the cause of this gap in the historical development of queer is to be sought in a far more serious and deeper fault, of an epistemological and theoretical nature: even though the texts which established queer studies as a lively and innovative voice in the academic and political arenas were published almost thirty years ago, queer studies have yet to develop any kind of research programme which can give indications as to how exactly its mission of questioning and deconstruction could be carried out. 7
The term “subjectivity” encompasses the notion of identity and, as it also encompasses consciousness and self-awareness, it can be seen to encompass the term “Self” (Hall 2004: 134). With respect to the discipline of psychology, the terms “personality” and “self- perception” can be encompassed by the term subjectivity as well (Weiten 2007). There is a significant body of research, mainly in the domains of psychology, Poststructuralism and QueerTheory, that argues that subjectivity is better conceived as a set of performed and repetitive behaviours, including thought patterns, which rely heavily on socio-cultural and group conditions (Weiten 2007; Mansfield 2000; Butler 1990). This is made clear when it is taken into account that the major components of subjectivity—such as gender, sexuality and culture—have already been shown to be situational, temporary and themselves reliant on repetition and performance for their constitution (Butler 2004 & 1990).
However, both of these ancient American sexual traditions have grown side by side with the urban explosion of the continent. The transgender individuals interviewed in Engabao complained about the mistreatment and discrimination they received in Guayaquil (the Ecuadorian port city has over two and half million inhabitants), as compared to their normal existence in their small fishing community, demonstrating a transgender community socially integrated into the local life of the town. But this sup- posed national anomaly, that is, to expect that a transgender identity would cause more malaise and discrimination in a rural setting than in a big city like Guayaquil also responds to a global prejudice; one even inherent in queertheory. Most global understanding of queertheory often assumes that homosexuality is above all an urban phenomenon, within large cit- ies and iconic places like San Francisco, New York or Berlin in the north. It supposedly being these global centers which manage to maintain and develop queer or gender identities alternative to those normally developed within a binary heterosexist hegemony.
The methods of analysis, and the writing style in itself, in the featuring articles is strewn with metaphorical usages. As the contribution by Zebracki conveys, this is evident for the academe that harbours an innate relationship with words to render knowledge. Queertheory especially holds a determined purpose to express, negotiate, challenge and reform gender and sexuality normativites by the primacy of language (see Ehrlich et al., 2014). Zebracki adopts various queer verb variants – including question and qu(e)ery – to discursively play with ‘deviant’ work of art – that is a butt plug cast as ambiguous ‘tree’. The treatise shows how this artwork was deemed atypical by some within the confines of material public space yet perceived by others as archetypical for the ludic and phatic communications that have come to characterise network sociality in the digitally mediated spaces of social media, in other words the Web 2.0. A compelling emblematic reference is made to the “teen girl Tumblr aesthetic” (Santos, 2015) to indicate new codes of expression through digital user-created content. Zebracki queries digitally mediated user agency and discusses how the re-appropriations, and do-it-yourself re-creations, of the public artwork via social internet activities appeared to largely bypass informational supply and profound dialogues – they rather alluded to the critical metaphor described by Hartley (2012) as ‘silly citizenship’.
From the perspective of queertheory, I would also suggest that Toby and Marnoo, the two “feminine” men, are Melville himself in “drag”. Lois Tyson de- fines “drag” as “the practice of man dressing in women’s clothing” (Tyson, 2006: p. 330). She further explains that, “Drag is a way for a man to express his femi- nine side or his sense of the outrageous or his nonconformity” (Tyson, 2006: p. 330). The feminized men are Melville’s literary performance as a “drag queen” who flamboyantly displays his femininity in the hope of catching men’s atten- tion, and who, while flaunting his female identity not conventionally thought as belonging to the male, relentlessly mocks the rigid demarcation of gender and sexuality in the 19th century America. In the portrayal of the effeminates, Mel- ville “drags” himself and voices his queer longings as well as his distaste for the restrictive sexual norms of his society.
It is important for me to be clear about what I mean by “queer.” I do not use this word to mean “homosexual” as opposed to “heterosexual” since that would be to accept an essentializing definition of those two terms as constituting (along with “bisexuality”) the inevitable diversity of human sexual expression. Rather I take a cultural-constructionist view of sexuality as a phenomenon that is itself constituted and contested. 11 This approach is derived from queertheory via postmodern feminism, but also via a tradition of the “scientific study of religion” in which the erotic was read into religious practices via the perspectives of psychoanalysis: for instance in Michael Carroll‟s startlingly titled paper “Praying the Rosary: the Anal- erotic Origins of a Popular Catholic devotion.” 12 My definition of queerness requires one to think of this as a cultural space which is generated through normative cultural discourses. It is thus an area of potential subaltern oppression, but also of considerable
The collaboration of Stanley Kubrick (1928 - 1999) and Arthur Charles Clarke (1917 - 2008) resulted in the emergence of a novel by Clarke, a script by both and a film directed by Kubrick. But Kubrick clearly influenced the plot of the novel, just as Clarke shaped the form of the film. In the opinion of a recent biographer „both had a streak of homoeroticism‟ and both certainly wrote extensively about homosocial environments such as the military (Baxter 203). Some element of queerness might, therefore, be expected in their work. Moreover, they were working together on the eve of radical changes in patterns of gendering in (at least some) science-fiction. Thus, it was in 1969, the year after the release of 2001, that Ursula K. LeGuin‟s Left Hand of Darkness, „opened the stargates‟, by presenting a story by a woman about an alien species that was able to change sex (Grant 74). Although recent work by feminist scholars has increasingly highlighted the role of women as readers and writers throughout the period of the development of science fiction narratives, there was an element of early science-fiction which functioned as a homosocial space in which writings mainly by men told stories of space exploration mainly by men which were marketed to men (and boys) (Davin, Larbalestier). Widespread homophobia led to the suppression, or coded expression, of same-sex desire, but recent queertheory has been busy exploring such „work that appears “straight” or that even seems on the surface to have little to say about sexuality‟ (Pearson 303). For example, Roger Luckhurst has recently emphasised the importance for science fiction studies of the work of Eve Sedgwick because she showed how genres codified as masculine are already saturated with issues relating to sexuality (Luckhurst).