La Professora is somewhere on a road to Goa, her hennaed head hanging low by now, I would think. But soon after a good night's sleep, she will sparkle with her passion for international discourse.
My recent dear authors, continued. Guy Gavriel Kay and his 1990 "fantasy" novel, "Tigana," a story about a struggle over memory and sad, revengeful power that cannot sustain its own immense power. A created world that is always vaguely familiar, medieval, colonial, and one that is suffused with erotic yearnings of all kinds, with a gentleness in the midst of callous abuse of power. A father using his dwindling magic to save his prancing and strong hearted son, who so loved his early stable boy lover, from terrible torture for his perversions. In his afterward, Kay speaks of the resonances in our near history that gave him the outline for the emotional tensions of his Peninsula of the Palm: " The novelist Milan Kundera fed my emerging theme of oppression and survival with his musings about the relationship between conquered peoples and an unstable sexuality: what I have called 'the insurrections of night.' The underlying ideas, for me, had to do with how people rebel when they can't rebel, ...how shattered self-respect can ripple through to the most intimate levels of our lives."
Sometimes when I write these words to you in this space, I want to apologize that I am not writing about the "insurrections of the night," at least in the way I have in so much of my work--the yearning of a fem lesbian body moving through the second half of the 20th century, but as my fingers curve to the keys, as the darkness of a Southern hemisphere night falls around me, I touch with every thought I mark on this new kind of page, I offer myself as I so often did, finding the wonder of life in the lifting of my hips, words to lips.