(Em)Bodied & (En)Gendered Material Realities
by Goran Kusić
The written contribution ‘(Em)Bodied & (En)Gendered Material Realities’ by Goran Kusić was published in three parts:
1. Queer, Unstable — Rupturing Identity Categories
Gender has marked me, and I have been marking myself through gender. When I think of object/objectification and how my journey fits into that setup I cannot bypass identity. Nor do I necessarily want to. Becoming an object, creating your body, extending it into space— all these facets have been strongly present in my life, and my work. When I was still on stage as a performer, I was fascinated by an in-between-ness that seemingly described me quite well. I liked being unidentifiable. You weren’t able to place me, and often that was directly tied to my body and my presentation.
Technically, I have been away from the stage for some years, although it does not feel like that to me. Also, I don’t think I perceived the theater stage as being much different from my mundane realities. In either of those — or frankly in any scenario — I was identified by being a fascinating presence. Someone to look at, someone to discuss, to categorize. The obvious frame of reference in the process of categorization was the perceived discontinuity between my aesthetic commitments and the fact that I was assigned male at birth.
My proclivities, tendencies, and talents notwithstanding, traversing the minefield that is social relationality, all the while walking on thin ice (in stilettos), was incredibly challenging. That was part of the marking process, of creating my body with that incongruence in mind. In a way, I was becoming an object defined by ruptures. So easily feminine, so graceful, so articulate. Almost a fantasy. Or perhaps ‘almost’ is not necessary. A fantasy object, a discontinuous one; a consistent reality marked by refusals of identification. You cannot and will not place me.
I haven’t taken my contribution and engagement with Gender*Language lightly at all. Quite the contrary, actually. At first, I attempted to remain in the safety of theoretical explorations of gender, while adding a note of me somewhere in between. Such a project, however, falls quite flat and is maybe even disingenuous. Theory and philosophy have sharpened my views, informed my goals, and weaponized my intellect. But they are an addition, a tool to help, not an arrival at a destination of ideal understanding and interpretation — if that even exists. My most recent approach to gender is grounded in the work of French Philosophers Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari, especially their concept Body without Organs and, related to this notion, the idea of ruptures. A conventional understanding of the word rupture is two-fold: the breaking of a container or (bodily) part and a breach, or disturbance, of previous harmony. This is why ruptures, to me, are such a productive way of thinking around gender — breaking the ‘container’ of gender categorisation, thus disturbing the heteronormative matrix. By rupturing, one comes undone and spills out at the same time.
In A Thousand Plateaus (1987) Deleuze and Guattari relate the rupture to the concept of rhizome — a description of the relations and connectivity of all things in a non-linear, non-hierarchical, and dispersed fashion. Rhizome connects points to one another, and one of its principles — the a-signifying rupture — ensures its continuation, making it perpetually in process. The rhizome can never be broken; upon interruption, it will continue creating alternative paths and territories.
Nor is a Body without Organs a finite process, but an exercise in rupturing and experimentation; it operates as a countering, refusal of articulation and never-ending motion. The Body without Organs is not a point reached in time and space, but a collection of rhizomatically bound ruptures.
Intricately connected, the rhizome, ruptures, and the Body without Organs, form a triad challenging conventional understandings of identity, structure, and embodiment. The Body without Organs, represents a state of becoming, an unstructured and deterritorialized body that resists fixed organization.
With this in mind, I wish to illustrate a provocation and point to an inconsistency:
Identity categories are inherently
unstable and untenable.
Proposing that identity categories have serious limitations within a discourse of gender — and in the topic of object/objectifying/becoming — can be weaponized against the progress reached thus far. So, I am treading lightly. I promise neither a resolution, absolution, nor a perfect alternative. What I can do, however, is try and shift you towards an understanding of gendered bodies that aren’t shackled by fantasy, identity category, or an easily definable object.
How do we reconcile the body’s becoming when we extend our boundaries? By engaging in the co-creation of our representation(s), what are we building in that process? Perhaps it’s an idea to start by positioning the body in space: where are you, how are you relating to other objects, and what do those relations say about your processes? When I occupy a space, I co-create it. My choice of garb, my powdery scent, the learned smile as I traverse a room of onlookers while seeking emergency exits are all part of the process that co-create ‘me’.
How is that discussed in terms of identification? When one is assigned — or assigns — others a stabilizing category, it, in turn, informs a relationality to the other.
My work and lived reality have been meandering towards a conception of identity that cannot be anchored and/or stabilized by a category. What do I mean by that? Well, in my exploration and play with how I (re)present myself, disruption is ingrained in that process.
I have been marked by ruptures. Changing pronouns, changing the body, and changing aesthetics all have one common denominator: change.
If I am marked by change and I co-create spaces through the way I relate to others, then it stands to reason that those processes are inherently unstable.
Why am I framing this text in such a way? I am a staunch believer in the power of language and the way we use it. I am also actively shaping how I wish to look, perceive, be perceived, and how I relate. Thus, having a sense of agency and control over these processes is key.
However, I do not think agency is derived neatly and clearly. Example: “ I am X, I am defined by X and will assume the identity X in any and all situations.”
So, where is this provocation I am talking about?
If being X is not a concoction of clear-cut processes with visible lines of development and relationalities, then how does one stabilize identities marked by gender, sex and sexuality? What I am referring to is: collaborating in the process of creating one’s subjectivity while anchoring it in terms of a stable identity will ultimately be an untenable position.
Hear me out.
I understand “becoming-object” as an incredibly productive force, a way of practicing agency across multiple dimensions. If I can continuously co-author what it means to be me, and if I am marked by ruptures and discontinuities, then my varying versions of extending and creating my Body without Organs in spaces goes beyond a colloquial understanding of identity. Or: claiming an identity does not make use of the many potentials and possibilities a body holds.
This shift, however, is provocative. Why? Well, imagine after all the hard work of decades, all the people fighting for recognition, rights, access, care, safety, etc. Political projects, as well as cultural shifts, needed to happen in order to experience a slightly better life than your queer ancestors. What makes them contentious, however, is that they are grounded in assimilation and identification into a model which is by design violent towards you, my dear queer.
That’s why it’s provocative, or perhaps even dangerous.
Again, I am not laboring under the delusion that I have reinvented the wheel, nor am I assuming that every reader that made it this far has never spent a second thinking about how identities just might not be the best way towards unleashing the fabulous powers of us queers. No. Rather, I believe I have done my job if I manage to tickle you into thinking:
how can I reimagine my understanding of gender, of becoming, of creating a body and a space that isn’t anchored in a constricting understanding of identity categories.
If I am constantly becoming, if I am a perpetual process, always relational to other objects and subjects, then I can find security in the fact that becoming is unstable, undefinable, elusive and ephemeral. Can I do all of that and still be committed to political and cultural projects of emancipating from the violent shackles of hetero-patriarchy?
Or, wait a second, is it perhaps precisely this point that needs to be stressed, so that the entire gender discourse can be flipped on its head? Could it be that the emancipatory potential of a perpetual becoming lies in the revealing of identity’s instability? Categorizing ourselves only signifies one aspect, while assuming the whole — we’re parading under fragments of what it means to be queer as we attempt to seek a semblance of safety. Remember, the violence hasn’t stopped.
Yes, people talk about pronouns now. Win! Yes, there is a significant move towards understanding that there are a lot of people that do not fit anywhere in this boring matrix.
Ultimately, this only reveals the matrix as falsely stable. It rests on facetious premises. And I am not talking about: “because there are people who are ‘they’, we need to include ‘them’.” (See what I did there?). No, that does not hold since assimilation into a matrix that is both violent and heteropatriarchal does not equal liberation nor expansion. Our queer bodies are always becoming, rupturing, and in flux; their sheer existence reveals novel ways of existing. Until we smash the idea of humans having an identity, we will not be released under the weight of its violent effects.
I started the writing process of my contribution with a body that can be modulated and modified. I talk about it in this way because that implies that it can be imagined differently. Not only in the sense of: “If I wear this outfit, if I get on HRT, or get surgery, then I am creating this different reality.” That is a very material and easy-to-understand way of modification. And, it is also correct. But, I want to dig a little deeper. If I imagine a body’s constitution and its ontology to be modifiable, then I have to account for the fact that it must remain flexible. As such, it defies stabilization into categories, fantasies, or identifiable objects.
Are we partaking in our own objectification? One hundred percent.
But again, what does that say? To me, if you take object-objectification of the body far enough, you can recognize the dangerous potential that process can entail. If I can objectify myself to the point that I become the Body without Organs, the body that disrupts relations, then I tapped into something tectonic.
Engaging Meaningful Shifts
In my previous contribution ‘Queer, Unstable — Rupturing Identity Categories’ , I argue that identity categories are inherently untenable and unstable. In continuing this line of thought, I offer another thesis: the term queer has benefitted by moving away from being a slur and a singular definition of a sexual identity, to a pluralistic understanding of subjectivity, whereby this expansion necessitated reformulating its semantic properties, and is crucially marked by ambiguity. OK, the thesis I just offered has a lot packed in it. I will try and unfold my argument in a couple steps.
Scholarly work in philosophy of language has pedantically tackled this transformation. In a research paper I wrote “Slurs as Catalysts of Re-appropriation”, I tried to track how this shift occurred and which linguistic operations mobilized it. I want to stress that the literature really goes into the nitty gritty, and for the purpose of this text I paint with somewhat broad strokes. Also, I assume not everyone enjoys tedious and dry philosophizing about a specific term’s semantic properties. (If you do, however, a small part of the relevant bibliography is at the very end of my post).
By uttering a slur, one reduces members of a target group to a specific marker (race, gender, ethnicity, etc.,) and does so disparagingly (Legaspe 2018, 238). Stereotypes and slurs are connected, especially in how stereotypes structure cognitive patterns and influence an individual’s propensity towards specific explanations (Camp 2013, 342). Philosopher Robin Jeshion (2013a, 314) argues that slurs effectively employ group stereotypes —characterizing them as pernicious since they harm their target’s conception of self and worth — and sees some of them as especially heinous and harmful. How offensive they are is related to the offensiveness of the stereotype they intentionally magnify (ibid, 315).
Words carry immense power; they mobilize the ways in which we build our understanding and cognitive structures around, and about, phenomena. In “A Queer Revolution”, semantics scholar Robin Brontsema (2004, 1) defines linguistic reclamation as a process where a social group appropriates a pejorative epithet that is targeted at them. Central to reclaiming is the ability of self-determination (ibid). During the AIDS epidemic in the 1990s, the discussion group “Queer Nation” was formed in New York City (ibid , 4). They mobilized the term queer to signify that categories gay and lesbian were exclusionary, and their project was meant to break restrictive limits of sexuality and gender, all the while disrupting perceived binaries (ibid).
For appropriation to be successful, however, it would need to be supported by an institution that counters harmful beliefs and practices, while having broad expressive appeal (Hom 2008, 438). Language scholar Gregory Coles (2016, 430) locates the power of linguistic reclamation in the process of limiting pejorative functions of words in the way they are performed; rather than trying to eliminate a derogatory word, he claims it is more productive to focus on changing what it signifies (ibid). In the case of queer’s reclamation, Coles argues, a semantic, linguistic, and performative shift occurred. (ibid, 426). In the early 20th century, queer derogated a homosexual identity by linguistically asserting its inferiority to a heteronormative way of being (Ibid, 433). In its reclamation from the 1990s onward, however, queer still affirmed a semantic assertion of homosexual individuals differing from straight individuals, but its understanding and definition expanded to include other groups resisting heteronormative definitions (ibid).
The semantic shift that queer underwent resulted in its linguistic re-appropriation. It now occupies a somewhat ambiguous position, yet its ties to sexual and gendered non-normativity remain crucially relevant. This shift took off with the conscious intent to account for non-normative sexual and gendered identities. Queer can still be used as a slur, however, the character it now semantically occupies makes it difficult to pin it down onto its derogatory and pejorative history. If historically queer has been used to target a specific property of a certain group, and the transformation in recent decades now includes a plurality of identities and practices, then it can hold that a key component which changed the status of queer from derogatory slur to reclaimed ambiguous descriptor is its inclusivity vis-à-vis its expansion of meaning. These processes are embedded in stereotypes and socio-political factors, however, the focus on broadening what the term denotes, and whom it can include, remains crucially productive in its re-appropriation.
I work with the term queer quite often, and a neat definition eludes me. Or better, I like to work with it because of how expansive and inclusive its definition has become. To substantiate my thesis, I want to note that its expansive character owes its allegiance to two historical properties: 1) its origins as delineating something odd, non-normative, peculiar; and 2) the way it was particularly tied to a derogatory attitude towards male homosexual practices in the early 20th century.
Gregory Coles (2016, 435) claims that queer’s function as either derogatory, or innocuous, depends on the speaker, the audience, and group members; it can simultaneously hold one or multiple meanings at various degrees of ambiguity. It appears that keeping a pejorative component in the case of queer has not prevented it from shifting content and status. Moreover, keeping the revolutionary force of the derogatory character the term initially carried, it seems to work well for its currently ambiguous character. If queer’s strength lies in its semantic multiplicity, and if in cases of reclamation a term will be somewhat ambiguous, it stands to reason that its contemptuous components can be perceived as semantic assets. At least, for purposes of linguistic appropriation.
It seems intuitively difficult to argue that it is possible to completely re-appropriate a slur and to see the productive potential of those semantic processes, while also accounting for a historically derogatory and harmful function. Thus, insofar as it is possible to appropriate a term – as has arguably been the case with queer – the process and its success remain contentious. The perspective, context, uptake and resulting effects of a slur’s reappropriation all play a significant role. Crucially, what queer has shown is that derogatory slurs are defined by a powerful potentiality. A destructive force mobilizes slurs, regardless of the speaker’s intention and the audience’s socio-political allegiances. If queer can shift from a rigid and harmful pejorative by attending to its semantic content and its associations, then it is reasonable to assume that this destructive productivity can be tapped into and expanded upon.
What tickles me about queer is how it signals a type of productivity that goes beyond its linguistic properties.
Linguistic shifts notwithstanding, the tough realities of queer people are very much material realities, grounded in the everyday. On your way to the supermarket, sitting in public transport, holding hands, going to family celebrations; all of those signal that forces of struggle lie somewhere else than in semantics. When I am yelled at for seriously and significantly slaying the aisles of Albert Heijn, I don’t really think about what the words hurled at me mean.
Technically, I have my noise-canceling headphones in so that I can avoid the commentary, but that’s besides the point. The noise created by the words is never just noise. It carries legacies folded into itself and it strongly informs the mundane realities of queers. When I think about it a bit longer, it strikes me as peculiar that the very words I carry and treat as my badge of honor, can still awaken a sense of fear, hatred, shame.
Like, I won’t be put down by a passing stranger for any characteristic of mine, however, there are moments when a word can be deployed against me at a random moment and quite literally destroy my day. Needless to say, a day ruined is one of the lighter consequences queers face while moving in the world. And to be fair, the word uttered is rarely ever queer. Regardless of the choice of slur, it points and derogates the same phenomena: my gendered and sexed body, my ambiguity, my perceived mis-alignment.
Bibliography
Brontsema, Robin. 2004. ‘A Queer Revolution: Reconceptualizing the Debate Over Linguistic Reclamation’. Colorado Research in Linguistics. https://doi.org/10.25810/dky3-zq57.
Coles, Gregory. 2016. ‘The Exorcism of Language: Reclaimed Derogatory Terms and Their Limits’. College English 78 (5): 424–46.
Diaz Legaspe, Justina. 2018. ‘Normalizing Slurs and Out‐group Slurs: The Case of Referential Restriction’. Analytic Philosophy 59 (2): 234–55. https://doi.org/10.1111/phib.12129.
Camp, Elisabeth. 2013. ‘Slurring Perspectives’. Analytic Philosophy 54 (3): 330–49. https://doi.org/10.1111/phib.12022.
Hom, Christopher. 2008. ‘The Semantics of Racial Epithets’. The Journal of Philosophy 105 (8): 416–40.
Jeshion, Robin. 2013a. ‘Slurs and Stereotypes’. Analytic Philosophy 54 (3): 314–29. https://doi.org/10.1111/phib.12021.
Jeshion, Robin. 2013b. ‘Expressivism and the Offensiveness of Slurs’. Philosophical Perspectives 27: 231–59.
Generating Affective Potentialities
Continuing my attack on neat categorizations of gendered bodies, I want to round out parts 1 & 2 with an exploratory focus on the queer body’s generative capabilities in (re)shaping spaces, borrowing insights from phenomenology and affect theory. If identity categories are untenable, and language reappropriation has helped in the process of showing their instability, how does the moving queer body complicate this understanding? Earlier, I spoke of ruptures and a perpetual becoming and wish to continue this line of thought. I offer my third thesis: queered gestures are an amalgamation of aesthetic, kinesthetic, and discursive protocols which radically change the body’s potentialities.
Invoking my slaying of Albert Heijn’s aisles from Queer, Elusive, I was signaling a specific and a general example of a queer experience in a visibly discontinuous body. Also, that body is sartorially stylized and has a certain gait, a rhythmic one. The legacies of words, slurs, and categories are ascribed to it and etched onto it. This is where the aesthetic and kinesthetic reveal the discursive dimension. I use discourse in the way French philosopher Michel Foucault used it – as constructing systems of thought, language, and social practices which shape and regulate what can be said, thought, or understood within a particular historical or cultural context. It encompasses not only verbal or written communication but also non-verbal forms of expression, such as gestures, images, and institutional practices.
Discourse, then, produces subjects who are positioned and constituted by the discursive practices that govern their lives. Through processes of subjectification, individuals come to internalize and embody the norms and values encoded within discursive formations, shaping their identities, desires, and behaviors. For any Foucauldian analysis, this has to be viewed through a lens of power that operates through the production and regulation of knowledge. It gets a little trickier when you consider that dominant discourse often serves to reinforce existing power structures and marginalize alternative ways of knowing and/or being.
I offered a very cursory breakdown of one of the most cited academics in humanities disciplines, so I can complicate the grocery-aisle-slaying-dimension which some queers possess. Naturally, the example I draw from is an illustration of recurring events from my own life and I am in no way pretending it to be a totality of “the queer experience”. Based on what I discuss in my previous contributions, a fair note of commonsensical intuition, and a reasonable infatuation with queer theory, it is pretty safe to assume that there is no such thing as “the” queer experience anyway. Thus, we are still on track with the attack on totalizing notions of subjectivity.
I bring up the example of getting groceries to point at how the mundanity of the experience is intertwined with a mundanity of queer subject marginalization. In my illustration, the boring practice of picking up the Dutch lunch combo of bread and kaas in the supermarket becomes affectively charged, since the non-normativity of the queer body collides into someone else’s discomfort. This collision is sometimes verbalized or accompanied with vitriolic gestures and gazes, almost always leaving the queer in a state of precarity. As if the pain and melancholia of occupying normative spaces was not enough already, now the queer also must be even more vigilant to avoid possible escalation of the situation.
The minutiae of these collisions is a wealth of affect, which are in affect theory understood as dynamic and relational sensations, arising from the interactions between bodies, environments, and social contexts. Unlike emotions, which are often tied to specific cognitive appraisals or beliefs, affects are more immediate and visceral, operating at a pre-conscious level. They are intense and fleeting, influencing perceptions and actions in ways that may be difficult to articulate or rationalize. Here is where linguistics shows a limitation; as I am writing about the nature of this collision, I assume the reader can have a pre-discursive understanding of the weight these exchanges carry, due to their affective nature. You do not need to have lived through such situations to have an ingrained and physical sense of tension emanating in your body when reading or hearing about such instances. It creeps up on you, viscerally.
What I am aiming at with this final part of my 3-part contribution is not to regurgitate how some of us still have a hard time navigating a social context seriously intent on pointing out how disruptive we are. Rather, by exploring the tensions in this affectively charged exchange I want to show how contingent they are on a sustained ideology with shoddy foundations substantiating it. In other words: the unstable and untenable categories that are socially dominant, come into their positions by repeatedly and violently asserting themselves towards any type of non-normativity which is perceived as rupturing.
However, I brought notions of aesthetic and kinesthetic into this conversation for a reason. In this context, I treat aesthetics as it is treated in philosophy – as the ways in which we perceive, interpret, and respond to aesthetic phenomena. This includes the role of perception, imagination, emotion, and cognition in shaping our aesthetic responses. Such an experience is often characterized by qualities like intensity, immersion, and transcendence, which evoke profound emotional and intellectual engagement. On the other hand, kinesthetics is in philosophy broadly defined as the study of bodily movement, sensation, and proprioception—the sense of one’s own body in motion.
In the branch of phenomenology, the embodied nature of human experience is central. A key tenet of the phenomenological tradition is that our perception of the world is fundamentally shaped by our bodily engagement with it. Rather than viewing the body as a mere object in the world, phenomenologists highlight the lived body as the primary site of meaning and understanding. Through bodily movement and sensation, we come to inhabit and experience the world in a direct and immediate manner. This is why I investigate embodied cognition in queer experience: because of the ways in which bodily practices and gestures are simultaneously mediated by their aesthetics, their movement protocol, and the discursive milieu in which they are situated.
In Queer, Elusive the productive aspect of linguistic reappropriation is juxtaposed with a material queer experience. With this post, I expand on the mundane to show how generative the movements of queers in the wild truly are. A simple quotidian moment can become a situation constituted by an affectively charged exchange between queer(s) and their spectator(s). The act of looking, gazing, staring, eyeing is much less subtle than imagined. It is accompanied by eyebrow-raising, frowning, expressions of confusion. A single moment can pack so much. A queer body’s gaiety of motion, or the ferocity and type of strut, show incredible command of space. The fabrics that drape and move with the queer body are co-conspirators in the project; they are an extension, a shield, an imagination of a subject deciding their own bounds. Once the queer subject is perceived, the room has already changed. The supermarket, town-square, or doctor’s office suddenly have a sharper awareness to them, they have been transformed from mundane to an indeterminate space; they are now not governed anymore by the same protocols as they were pre-queer. The intensity of the affective charge changes the room and the people in it, for better or worse. Perception of the moving body shapes the exchange. How I am looked at affects my movement protocol, which in turn changes what I emanate as I maneuver the scene.
It is possible to read this scenario in infinite ways, but what I want to stress is a generative quality of a queer body. Its presence and movement consistently re-negotiate itself and its relationality to other subjects. In so doing, I have the option to choose which aspect of me will be magnified today…. Who is she? You see, it is not only that identity categories and the language we deploy to delineate them are insufficient, they are unimaginative. Exploring bodily cognition, playing with adornment, attuning to the contours of a shifting kinesthetics; these processes ask more of everyone involved, but they breed far richer experience. In Queer, Unstable I was interested in the ways in which a queer body defies categories and in Queer, Elusive I engaged with a linguistic shift that helped expand the term’s understanding.
For Queer, Perpetual I stressed the interplay of the kinesthetic, affective, aesthetic, and discursive modalities. By engaging playfully with my perceived ruptures, I grant my body possibilities. The repeated attempts to control the queer body into slow assimilation leave residuals and write a history of tension onto it. Yet, historia est magistra vitae, history is the teacher of life, it informs and offers insight. Through an embodied perception, then, my queer history has taught me to keep poeticizing my expression(s), in that way I pervade any space I come into and permeate it with all my being. I partake in a type of objectification, but it’s not the kind where I am an object as it is colloquially understood. No.
It’s more like pushing the limits of how my body is perceived, how it moves, how it looks, how it engages with its environment. Because these processes generate affect, I can never fully embody being just an object. That option was never truly on the table.
Goran Kusić (she/her) completed a BA and rMA in Media Studies, and is currently working on a second MA in Philosophy. Since childhood she was involved in Contemporary Dance and Classical Ballet, which informs her understanding on how moving bodies shape perception and experience. Alongside performance art and her academic commitments, she has worked as a host in Amsterdam’s nightlife since her arrival in 2013.
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