I tweets della settimana [31 Maggio – 6 Giugno]

In un video pubblicato su Facebook, Emma ha ribadito il suo supporto a Camfed, dopo aver visto WOMAN, la serie di VICELAND con Gloria Steinem, e in particolare l’episodio sullo Zambia. Ha ricordato brevemente il viaggio fatto in Zambia alcuni anni fa, invitato a vedere la serie e fare una donazione: “Ciao, il mio nome è Emma Watson. Ho viaggiato in Zambia con un’ente di beneficienza chiamato Camfed, ci sono stata 2 o 3 anni fa con una cara amica e so quanto la situazione sia disperata e quanto sia veramente apprezzato ogni sostegno. Dopo aver visto WOMAN, mi sono presa l’impegno di acquistare biciclette per ragazze e donne in Zambia così che possano andare a scuola e possano lavorare, e continuare a fare in modo che le cose cambino. Potete unirvi a me, se volete, e potete fare una donazione a Camfed e scoprirne di più su viceland.com/woman. Siate testimoni e fate sentire la vostra voce assieme a me e sostenete la lotta per l’Uguglianza di Genere.”

Dopo aver visto WOMAN, la serie di VICELAND, (e in particolare l’episodio sullo Zambia) ribadisco il mio supporto a Camfed per la Campagna per l’Educazione Femminile. Potete vedere il documentario (solo in Nord America, arriverà in UK in Autunno…), saperne di più e fare una donazione attraverso viceland.com/woman ‪#‎SiiUnTestimone x

Emma ha dato visibilità a Camfed anche su Twitter.

Dopo aver visto WOMAN di @VICELAND ribadisco il mio supporto @Camfed. Guardate (solo in USA) sappiate e donate via http://viceland.com/woman #SiiUnTestimone x

Nuovo mese, nuovo libro, nuova selfie. Emma ha condiviso una foto con Persepolis su tutti i suoi social (account Instagram di Our Shared Shelf, Twitter, Goodreads, dove è diventata la sua nuova foto profilo) a partire da Facebook.

Regram per Sarah Slutsky che, come di consueto, ci informa su cosa indossa Emma in un’uscita ufficiale. Questa volta però non ci dice quale sia l’occasione, dobbiamo stare in campana e lo scopriremo più in là…

Emma ha usato tutti i suoi social, Twitter, Facebook e Instagram, per ricordare ai cittadini britannici di registrarsi per votare al referendum con cui decideranno se restare o meno nell’Unione Europea.

Tweeters non buttate via il vostro voto! Registratevi per votare fino alla mezzanotte di domani [LINK] #EUref #ProntiAVotare

Il video Girl Emojis della serie #LikeAGirl di Always, condiviso da Emma a Marzo, è stato visualizzato 18 milioni di volte e la Watson ha retweettato un tweet dell’orgogliosa regista Lucy Walker.

Forest Whitaker
ha guadagnato un retweet citando Maya Angelou.

Su Goodreads Emma ha postato alcune domande, con relative risposte, che i lettori hanno posto a Maggie Nelson, autrice di The Argonauts.

Answers from Maggie !!!

Questions from Emma:
Why did you choose to address the reader in places, when the book seemed (to me) structured like a long, overflowing, open letter to Harry?

The play with the second person is something I’ve been interested for some time, probably as a holdover from my life as a poet; my 2009 book Bluets has a similar swing between an address to the reader and an address to a beloved. In the case of The Argonauts, while the book is in part, or at times, an address to Harry, as you say, it’s also many other things—cultural critique, personal testimony, art writing, theoretical inquiry, and so on. Given this shifting, just as it made sense to me to have the “you” sometimes be Harry and sometimes be the reader, Harry is often addressed in the third person as well as the second.
Do you have any advice for readers of this book that aren’t very familiar of the different bits of theory and philosophy throughout the book?
Just roll with it, and let curiosity trump any feelings of insecurity or irritation that may arise in the face of the unfamiliar. Sometimes, when people aren’t familiar with a reference, they jump to the conclusion that the writer is trying to show how smart she is, to namedrop just for the sake of it. I don’t deny the existence of the pretentious namedropper, and if anyone wants to read my work that way, that’s totally their prerogative; not all work is for everyone. But I think it’s important to understand that there exist types of writing in the world which explicitly aim to reflect the writer’s engagement in a conversation or tradition of ideas which really matter to her, and that there can be great benefit in approaching a reference-heavy text as a treasure trove rather than an alienating force. I read above my paygrade all the time—in fact, I’m often bored when I’m not. Because once one gets over the insecurity or befuddlement feelings, one can develop a ravenous appetite for all one doesn’t know. It’s also good to remember that one’s ability to understand a text changes over time, often in amazing ways—the best essay I know on this subject is my friend Jordana Rosenberg’s essay on reading Judith Butler’s notoriously difficult Gender Trouble over two decades. It’s called “Gender Trouble on Mother’s Day,” and can be found in the LA Review of Books. It’s a hilarious and moving and profound read.

Question from Clayre:
Thank you so much for such an incredible opportunity and amazing book. I’m an undergraduate and for my class titled “The Art of Flirtation”, this one of the books we were assigned. I was just curious to know, how did you decide on the structure of the book? This was one of the biggest themes we touched upon, besides the diverse, unable-to-be-completely-defined term “queer”.

Form for me is a trial and error thing. As a young poet I read an A. A. Ammons’ poem called “Poetics,” and these lines really spoke to me: “I look for the way/ things will turn/ out spiraling from a center,/ the shape/ things will take to come forth in… I look for the forms/ things want to come as.” This notion of “looking for the form things want to come as” has persisted with me for years now. It has always seemed the most apt description of how it feels to me, to look for form.
I love the idea of a class called “The Art of Flirtation.”

Question from Katie:
I just recently read your book (which I thoroughly enjoyed!) for my theory class, and I actually ended up writing my final paper on it. The aim of the paper was to relate it to some of our other readings and I came across a quote by Mel Y. Chen about the “threatening terrain” of the biographical. I guess I’m just wondering whether you relate to this statement in anyway, or if it was less threatening, and perhaps more comforting?

In that quotation, I believe Chen is talking about academic writing, a sphere in which, as Chen has said, one is often “trained to avoid writing in anything resembling a confessional mode.” But I’m not working in that sphere per se, so I don’t have the same ambivalence about it. I am a great lover and reader of many works in the genre of what I’d call life-writing, and I often gravitate toward work that’s willing to stage or lay bare the ways in which its own skin is in the game. But I don’t really find autobiographical writing comforting or threatening or anything more degraded or exalted than any other kind of writing. Sometimes the personal gets the job done; other times (as in my books The Art of Cruelty or Women, the New York School, and Other True Abstractions), it doesn’t need to play as much of a role.

Question from Theresa:
What resonated with me most in The Argonauts was the negotiation of public self, private self, lover, and parent. You touched on relational transactions in Bluets, but the stakes were much higher in The Argonauts. In both books, finding ways to move through all of these roles and the challenges faced were enhanced by the collage-like writing structure. I felt it was extremely effective and I related to its frenetic quality of finding parallels in extreme personal narratives and theory.
Do you think that the natural progression of losing and finding oneself in relational roles is what drives your creative practice? And when writing do you feel that you are answering questions, or posing more to be examined over a lifetime?

I wouldn’t say it drives my creative practice, as relationality always invokes its shadow (radical solitude, the need to think or compose alone, and so on). But relation doesn’t evaporate when we enter a “room of our own”—our bodies and minds in solitude are still made by our relations with others, often in a very literal sense (i.e. you are what you eat!). Often my writing aims to reflect this enmeshment. And definitely my preference would be to pose questions! The need for answers, not to mention the presumption that fixed certainties, no matter what their cost, are what we need to make life liveable, can be a deadly impulse.