#Read Book ë Le corps lesbien â eBook or E-pub free

I expected unusual, but after three chapters of the narrator eating her lover's eardrums, I just couldn't make myself keep trying. In reflecting on this novel, I was reminded of the following quote from Larry Kramer's The Normal Heart , wherein the gay narrator proclaims that “I belong to a culture that includes Proust, Henry James, Tchaikovsky, Cole Porter, Plato, Socrates, Aristotle, Alexander the Great, Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, Christopher Marlowe, Walt Whitman, Herman Melville, Tennessee Williams, Byron, E. M. Forster.." etc. ad nauseam. But what sort of history do lesbians have?

The Lesbian Body sees Wittig reckoning with that lack of history. Classic figures of Greek homosexuality such as Achilles and Patroclus are transformed into "Achillea and Patroclea." Zeus becomes Xena; Jesus Christ, Christa. But with the context of women's history and oppression always in the foreground, Wittig cannot simply change a few names and call it a liberation. Men must be removed from the equation, in all forms: masculine or maledominated forms such as the novel, narrative, plot, history, legacy, the body, sex, and love (to name a few) must be deconstructed, destroyed, disregarded. The result is a piece of work that's disgusting and bloody and repetitive and exhausting and ultimately effective.

Though it sometimes feels like a relic of 60s/70s radical feminism, there are moments that feel startlingly relevant today. Lesbian sex has never been described in such unromantic, at times horrifying terms. It still feels like a cold drink to the face of those who have fetishized our sex lives for decades. #Read Book  Le corps lesbien Ø Back In Print, This Daring Novel Constitutes A Rhapsodic Hymn To Women's Bodies And Women's Relationships

"That Rare Work In FictionThe Art And The Courage Are Of The Highest Level"
—The Boston Globe a celebration of the body from the inside out bones, bile, blood & guts handled with erotic jubilation in a world without men... a unique reading experience I did not know going in that this was a narrative told by a "Je" ("I") about the graphic death of their significant other, a "Tu" ("You"). It was simply, for me, a long epic poem about lesbian love. A beautiful, eloquent, jarring, and heartbrakingly honest account of the life and death of love and what it means for the speaker, but an epic poem nonetheless. i would be extremely interested to know what others think of this book. we read it for a class and discussed the aspects of violence inherent in desire and in language. and in departure from a particular norm. we talked about the purpose of fragmenting a subject so completely as to render it beyond human, beyond singular, beyond what can be understood. it is a 3 hour read if you just plow. but it is pretty intense. i wasn't sure if i like it or not, but it felt pretty powerful. and strange. so if you are a lesbian, let me know what you think about "the lesbian body." A remarkably way to turn the idea of "the gaze" on its head. Wittig is by far my favorite theorist. She deconstructs established norms and challenges the concepts of language and desire in such a creative way that she cannot be ignored and must be discussed. pronouns are currently a pretty heavily debated topic in the radical community, and so it felt appropriate when i found this book on the used/liquidation shelves of the old Elliot Bay Books location. a fascinating slog. You know how sometimes in a library when you've already gotten far too many books and your arms are full you reach a point of abandon and just throw anything on the pile? That's what was happening to me when I plucked The Lesbian Body on down from the shelf because, I figured, I like lesbians and I like bodies. I thought it might come in handy at a certain time of night. From the cover and description ("a rhapsodic hymn to women's bodies and women's relationships") I guessed that it would probably be a little bit ridiculous and a little bit sentimental, which I have to say I think it was, but not in the way that I expected.

In the introduction, Wittig writes of "The desire to bring the real body violently to life in the words of the book (everything that is written exists), the desire to do violence by writing to the language which I (j/e) can enter only by force." The urgency with which she was writing and the impossible scale of what she considered her mission are affecting. In a certain mood, the excitement could be contagious. You could picture the author, flushed and frantically writing, trying to push language to its limits, as though if she could just be brave enough, bold enough, violent enough, the whole compromised world might come down and a new one come up in its place, the distance between the self and the desired finally transcended.

Unfortunately it seems that trying to amp up the language as much as possible ends up having the opposite effect and much of The Lesbian Body is repetitive and even boring. The language is so ceaselessly, insistently erotic that it becomes unerotic in its predictability. Here is a passage that I think is pretty representative: "Your hand followed by your arm have entered into m/y throat, you traverse m/y larynx, you arrive at m/y lungs, you itemize m/y organs, you make m/e die ten thousands deaths while I smile, you rip out m/y stomach, you tear m/y intestines, you project the uttermost fury into m/y body, I cry out but not from pain, I am overtaken seized hold of, I go over to you entirely, I explode the small units of my ego, I am threatened, I am desired by you. A tree shoots in m/y body, it moves it branches with extreme violence with extreme gentleness, or else it is a bush of burning thorns it tears the other side of m/u exposed muscles m/y insides m/y interiors, I am inhabited, I am not dreaming, I am penetrated by you, now I must struggle against bursting to retain m/y overall perception, I reassemble you in all m/y organs, I burst." There is something frustratingly literal about all of this.

Still, I ended up reading the whole thing although I didn't expect to. There were moments when sudden unexpected images were really arresting, and then the rawness of it did, I think, add to the impact. But I would have to disagree with the jacket blurb "the art and the courage are of the highest level." I couldn't really speak to the courage without sounding, maybe, ungrateful and inconsiderate. Perhaps it's that The Lesbian Body did its work so well that the message seems a little tired to us today. I certainly imagine it was fresher in the climate in which it was originally published. As far as the level of the art, well, I think it's pretty clear that aesthetic considerations weren't the writer's primary concern. I have to say, a little bit apologetically yet, that, though I admire them in a way, strength of feeling and rawness aren't enough to trump aesthetic merit. All the same, I found myself reaching for this book at a time of night that I wasn't exactly reaching for the Henry James, so it did offer both pleasures and merits not always found in works that might be aesthetically better. This book was gritty, graphic, dark, erotic, and very visceral. It also read more like prose poetry than actual fiction.

Not for the faint of heart.