#virginie despentes

[texaschainsawmascara]

Bye Bye Blondie (2012)

[aloneandforsakenbyfateandbyman]

Karen Lancaume in Baise-Moi (2000)

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Je crois que pour la plupart d’entre nous, il y a une surprise à commencer à être vieux. On savait que ça viendrait, mais ça reste une surprise.

Virginie Despentes

[maaarine]

r/self: I'm admitting for the first time that I wish I was a woman

King Kong Theory (Virginie Despentes, 2006)

[viensdansmatete]

Au début, on croit mourir à chaque blessure. On met un point d'honneur à souffrir tout son soûl. Et puis on s'habitue à endurer n'importe quoi et à survivre à tout prix.

Virginie Despentes

[trashmarine]

revolutionary girl utena (shōjo kakumei utena, 1997) / king king theory by virginie despentes

[301-302]

Catherine Breillat in Mutantes (Virginie Despentes | 2009)

[frigid666]

this was originally a response to a post asking why there was so much pushback against separatists when the bulk of female abuse is done by men, specifically in intimate relationships.

accepting "niche" experiences women have had that would make them hesitant or skeptical about ideas like separatism is critical to improving the flow of engagement with separatist ideas. most normie women do not have specific trauma involving ousting/ostracization from feminist communities, but many of feminist women do. specific users have written about being mistreated and vilified by various feminist communities, and i have known of several women who were also harmed greatly by their feminist communities; through vicious in-person harrassment, cyber bullying, or being abandoned when they got outed to their larger local mutual aid/action community as "terf" and none of the other radfems had the courage to publicly defend them. these experiences are real and often catalysts for life-long distrust of feminist groups. "trashing: the dark side of sisterhood" by jo freeman [×] is a great short read about a second wave feminist's personal experience with a feminist community's widespread hostility towards her. this piece isn't specifically about separatist groups, but its helpful to illustrate that misconduct is present in all types of feminist groups, there's historical record of it, so there's no point denying it.

something i think many separatists fail to fully appreciate is that a lot of (radically) feminist inclined women may actually feel the hurt of a rejection/mistreatment from a women's community much more severely than the usual mistreatment from a mixed-sex community because they expected the women's community to be a safe space for them. whereas they have no such expectation from a mixed-sex community. we always discuss the unique power female comraderie and community have, but then it must also be acknowledged the unique harm it can cause when something goes wrong. i have seen women completely lose faith in the idea of finding real feminist community, they were so burned by the level of immaturity and bad faith they encountered. there's a certain ability many feminist-inclined women have to show resilience against male and non-feminist female transgressions that is missing when it comes to responding to the transgressions from feminist communities. the hurt is magnified by the base values we all ideally share. if holding someone to their purported values, being called a sexually charged insult by a man is less hurtful and hypocritical than by a woman who is supposed to be above such behaviors, for example.

experiencing such maliciousness firsthand, through a friend/mutual, or simply reading through the writings feminists from older generations have left for prosterity often doesn't inspire a lot of faith in similar contemporary communities. i don't mean that in the "women are all catty and will betray each other, they can't be real friends" way. i mean it in the "women (including those with feminist values) are human, and so we are susceptible to perpetuating the same community dysfunctions that everyone else does (i.e. gossip, name-calling, losing touch w reality, sophistry, tunnel vision, rape apologia, etc)." these are all behaviors i and others have observed from separatists. most women don't find such things inherently more tolerable just because it's an exclusively female group doing it rather than a mixed-sex group. the internet is an artifice to a certain extent, but i think it's fair to say that the level of anonymity a platform like tumblr provides enables masks to slip. many users interpret the nastiness that comes from a lot of users in the separatist niche as the mask slipping - "so this is how they really feel" - like thinking it's ok to use sexually- charged insults, thinking it's ok to degrade/mock women who participate in new age religious practices, thinking it's ok to accuse lesbians who deviate from certain scripts of secretly being bisexual, thinking it's ok to dogpile politically inconvenient rape victims, the list goes on. i don't think it's fair to paint an entire group using its worst behaviors, but it's human nature to do that. one bad apple and such. particularly when an entire community is comfortable allowing such bad actors to exist in the spaces, dictate topics of discussion, and influence popular opinions. im glad sespursongles was mentioned, bc her writings are immensely important to the strain of separatism that's popular on here, yet she was extremely vile towards bisexuals, harboring immense disdain for us, and put blame almost exclusively on bisexual women for the continued existence of patriarchy and the failure of modern radical feminism in her writings.

there are bad arguments against separatism and separatists, no doubt, but there's also a lot of valid concerns and hesitations about joining such communities that i dont think can in good faith just be waved away as incurable man-obsession. "king kong theory" by virginie despentes has been critical in my own understanding of why many women may never find the idea of female separatism compelling.* within this bubble, it actually doesn't matter that it's only an argument in a niche tumblr community; most everyone in radblr is engaging with the ideas here in good faith, engaging with separatism as a serious proposition, and that's why it is often opposed with a lot of passion.

*while despentes does not ever use the term "female separatism" in the book, she engages with the idea indirectly in this passage:

the importance of this passage to me isn't that i find my own opinions about rape represented in a way i hadn't before; to be honest, i still don't fully know how i feel about these sentiments other than that to hold them, one must very careful and deliberate, because i can see them easily veering into very harmful rape apologia territory. instead, it was revelatory to me because it presents a perspective about the looming threat of male violence (particularly from a lesbian woman whom it is hard to argue does not have a comprehensive understanding of feminism and also has 0 investment in men as romantic partners) that hadn't considered prior to reading this book. many women will simply never prioritize blanket self-preservation over the possibility of adventure and freedom of mobility that can only currently be experienced by living in and moving in a mixed sex society, and choosing to allow or tolerate men in their lives. we must accept how feminist women appraise certain aspects of their own lives.

[nonepronounwithleftboy]

I read this essay from Virginie Despentes and it made me think a lot about why I don't want to be a boy. According to this book, something that is taught to boys is that they're dangerous, poisonous. They will harm people, especially girls. Their pleasure shall hurt, if not in physical way, at least like leaving a stain in someone's purity. That's the whole logic of the expression "A fucked B" that's supposed to be negative.

And men are supposed to feel guilt from the pain they inflict. But they are also supposed to be creatures of sexual pulsions that don't really know better, that can't know better, that won't be taught to be better.

All of that forming this idea of man as intrinsically predatory, insensitive and harmful.

And I never wanted to be a danger for anyone. Deeply. I don't want to be insensitive, harmful. And I don't want to be seen as such.

[loo-nuh-tik]

Guilty of Romance (2011)

Baise-moi (2000)

[vamptones]

raunchy gay men representation (fight club) and raunchy lesbian representation (baise-moi)

[kelthoumrambles]

Elle ne parle jamais à personne de ce qu'elle fait. Elle n'a pas honte de ça. Il y a de l'orgueil à se mettre aussi bas, un héroïsme dans la déchéance.

[maaarine]

King Kong Theory (Virginie Despentes, 2006)

"After several years of genuine, sincere, and rigorous research, I have come to the conclusion that femininity is the same thing as bootlicking.

The art of servility. You can call it seduction to make it sound glamorous.

But it is very rarely a skilled sport. For the majority of women, it’s the simple habit of behaving as an inferior.

Walking into a room, checking whether there are men in it, wanting to please them.

Not talking too loud. Not being forceful. Not sitting with your legs splayed to be more comfortable.

Not speaking with authority. Not talking about money. Not wanting to claim power. Not wanting a position of authority. Not seeking glory. Not laughing too loud. Not being too funny.

Pleasing men is a complex art, which requires that one should eliminate anything remotely concerned with power. (…)

Being insecure—now that’s femininity. Unassuming. A good listener.

Not too intellectually impressive. Just cultured enough to understand what some asshole has to say.

Chatting is feminine. Anything that doesn’t leave a mark. Anything domestic, in need of redoing on a daily basis, unnamed.

No great speeches, no great books, no great things. Little things. Sweet. Feminine.

But drinking: manly. Having buddies: manly. Clowning around: manly. Earning lots of money: manly. Owning a fast car: manly.

Slouching around: manly. Sniggering as you smoke joints: manly. Being competitive: manly. Being aggressive: manly.

Wanting to fuck loads of partners: manly. Responding with violence to something that threatens you: manly.

Not taking time to spruce yourself up in the morning: manly. Wearing clothes because they’re practical: manly.

Everything that’s fun to do is manly, everything concerned with survival is manly, everything that gains ground is manly. (…)

I am not saying that being a woman is in itself a painful constraint. Some women do it very well.

It’s the obligation which is degrading."

[dentesguardados]

A emoção que acomete minha geração é o desespero. Ela é coletiva. Ela retumba, no fundo da terra. É a mesma que nos toca a todos. Todo mundo pode se precipitar com sua mensagem ou sua fórmula, mas não faz diferença. Não importa de você é dono do mundo ou se está sobre os destroços de um naufrágio no meio do oceano, a emoção é a mesma. Nós pertencemos a ela, ela é um acordo implacável e que ressoará não importa o que aconteça. E a única técnica que te permite afastar o desespero é a esperança. Simples assim. A esperança a o único antídoto para o desespero. Ora, é exatamente isso que nos foi tirado. A distopia passou a ser o único horizonte sensato. Crer que as coisas possam melhorar é uma prova de imbecilidade. Isso é a vitória do totalitarismo. Nossas imaginações foram monopolizadas por uma convicção única: não existe alternativa. A esperança só serve para os imbecis. Então Clémentine diz: "vem, papai, vamos comer", e eu paro de querer a todo custo pôr palavras exatas nesse magma de angústia que me revira o estômago, levanto e sento à mesa, sem me esforçar para sorrir, sem procurar dizer algo inteligente, nem desagradável para que elas entendam que eu me sinto excluído -- é isso que me permite sentar com elas, e digo: "como o García Lorca é bom, fazia tempo que não lia ele", e Corinne responde: "faz muito tempo que não abro esse livro, a menina que me deu de presente mora na Austrália agora e fico pensando como é que ela tá", e Clementine, que não está nem aí para isso, me diz: "a Corinne fez sua torta de morango de sobremesa", e sinto que ela está feliz de encontrar esse universo em que ela tem sua referências e que é simples -- e durante alguns minutos tenho essa sensação bizarra, que acaba sendo muito estranha para mim -- está tudo bem onde estou, está tudo certo. Eu não estou preocupado, não estou procurando o que eu poderia dizer para ser um pai melhor, um irmão que tranquiliza ou qualquer outra coisa específica. Eu pertenço a essa cena. Não tenho que fazer nada especial para que fique tudo bem. Apenas por hoje, me sinto menos babaca do que ontem.

-- Virgine Despentes, Querido babaca, ed. Fósforo, trad. Marcela Vieira

[mariannaszymanska]

"Le pire chez nos contemporains, c'est pas qu'ils aient l'esprit aussi étroit, c'est cette tendance à vouloir ratiboiser celui du voisin."

Virginie Despentes, Baise moi

[lenapalmdeath]

The bullet (La balle)

By Paul B. Preciado

"Homosexuality is a silent sniper who plants a bullet in children’s hearts in school playgrounds, he aims without caring if they’re the kids of yuppies, agnostics or diehard Catholics. Its hand doesn’t tremble, neither in the schools of the sixth arrondissement nor in working-class neighborhoods. It shoots with the same precision in the streets of Chicago, the villages of Italy, or the suburbs of Johannesburg. Homosexuality is a sniper blind as love, bursting forth like laughter, as gentle as a pet. And if it tires of using children as targets, it shoots a volley of stray bullets that will lodge themselves in the hearts of a farmer, a taxi driver, a rapper, a postwoman on her rounds… the last bullet reached an 80-year-old woman during her sleep.

Transsexuality is a silent sniper who plants a bullet in the chests of children standing in front of a mirror or counting their steps on their way to school. It doesn’t care if they were born from artificial insemination or Catholic coitus. It doesn’t ask itself if they come from single-parent families or if Dad wore blue and Mum dressed in pink. It trembles neither from the cold of Sochi nor from the heat of Cartagena. It opens fire on both Israel and Palestine alike. Transsexuality is a sniper blind as laughter, bursting forth like love, as gentle and tolerant as pets are. From time to time, it aims at a teacher in the provinces or at a family man, and then, boom.

For those who have the courage to look straight at the wound, the bullet becomes the key to a world they had seen nothing of before. The curtains part, the “matrix” breaks apart. But among those who carry the bullet in their chests, some decide to live as if they felt nothing.

Others compensate for the weight of the bullet by acting like Don Juan or like a princess. Doctors and the churches promise to extract the bullet. They say that in Ecuador, a new Evangelical clinic opens every day, to re-educate homosexuals and transsexuals. The lightning-strikes of faith become electric shocks. But no one has ever figured out how to get the bullet out. Neither Mormons nor Castrists. You can bury it more deeply in the chest, but you can never remove it. Your bullet is your guardian angel: it will always be by your side.

I was three years old when I felt the weight of the bullet for the first time. I knew I was carrying it when I heard my father call two foreign girls walking hand-in-hand in the street “disgusting, dirty dykes.” My chest started to burn. That night, without knowing why, I fantasized for the first time that I was escaping my city and that I was leaving for another country. The days that followed were days of fear, and shame.

It is not hard to imagine that among the adults who are taking part in the current angry demonstrations that some of them bear, embedded in their plexus, a red-hot bullet. By simple statistical deduction, and knowing the virtuosity of snipers, I know that some of the demonstrators’ children already carry the bullet in their heart. I don’t know how many they are, or how old they are, but I know that some of them have chests that burn.

They are carrying banners that have been placed in their hands, which say “Hands Off Our Stereotypes.” But they know that they’ll never be equal to these stereotypes. Their parents shout that LGBT groups should never venture into schools, but these children know that they’re the ones who bear the LGBT bullet. At night, as when I was a child, they go to bed with the shame of being the only ones to know that they are a disappointment to their parents, they go to sleep with the fear that their parents will abandon them if they find out, or would prefer it if they died. And perhaps they dream, as I did before them, that they are running away to a strange land, in which children who bear the bullet are welcome. And I want to say to these children: life is wonderful, we are waiting for you, there are many of us here, we have all been hit by the bullet, we are lovers with chests wide open. You are not alone."