Suites décoloniales

« Et ensuite quand le calme est revenu, plantez à la place une femme noire qui lève le poing, même un instant, comme pour faire semblant. Une femme noire fera le job, avec le poing levé, c’est mieux, c’est cool. » Écho ou fantôme de Suites décoloniales, ce recueil de poésie prolonge et complète les chemins parcourus par Olivier Marboeuf dans son essai, au moyen de ce que l’auteur appelle une « pratique théorique de la poésie ».

Fragments de mauvaises rencontres, haïkus sur le beat accéléré d’un train, hommages à la banlieue chérie, Olivier Marboeuf se fait conteur polyphonique, poreux au monde et dépositaire des histoires étendues et vues dans de multiples nuits.

This text begins with the mishearing of a word. It starts from the place of inconvenience and unravels a hearing not contained within one fixed conversation. A hearing that has been expanded into a writing that begins in your bank and extends to your throat when its language heard writes itself into and onto the muscles.

It begins in your bank and extends to your throat ruminates on how digital algorithms turn words into capital, disciplining language and the body. Its writing explores how search engines link profitability to vocabularies and how productivity dictates posture, raising whether we can separate language and our bodies from economic structures.

A Book for Disappearance explores themes of extinction and ecology through the lens of contemporary technology and using AI and image-generation platforms as collective tools. It grapples with the contradictions of living in this world full of worlds and full of crises, while revindicating processes of nomadic becoming, transcending fixed identities, and collective emergence. While disappearance may seem abstract or esoteric, it has tangible implications for both individual and collective action. In this book, the concept of disappearance emerges as an alternative, including a variety of short poetic and experimental texts on the multiple possibilities that surface from our engagement with AI alter-egos and a collective artistic exercise with image generation technologies.

Texts by Laura Tripaldi, Institute of Queer Ecologies, and Stacy Alaimo provide further food for thought, and invite readers into recondite explorations—of parasitic spaces and ghost bodies through materialist feminisms; of oak archives and the previous lives that forests can narrate to us; of acid oceans and the psychedelic trips they might afford.

‘May my story be beautiful and unwind like a long thread . . .’, she recites as she begins her story. 

The storyteller is the living memory of her time: at once an oracle, weaver, healer, warrior, witch, protectress, teacher and great mother. Her powers are to do with passing on – not only the stories but transmission itself: ‘what grandma began, granddaughter completes and passes on to be further completed.’

In contrast to the idea that a story is ‘just a story’, pioneering postcolonial feminist theorist and filmmaker Trinh T. Minh-ha recodes ideas about truth and fantasy to tell a different story about power, civilisation, history, medicine and magic. Grandma’s Story shows how creative speech is connected to women’s powers of enchantment, drawing upon and speaking with storytellers including Theresa Hak Kyung Cha, Clarice Lispector, Maxine Hong Kingston, Leslie Marmon Silko and Zora Neale Hurston – all who may be known as ‘she who breaks open the spell’. 

The story as a cure and a protection is at once musical, historical, poetical, ethical, educational, magical, and religious.

In How to Mend: On Motherhood and its Ghosts, Kayfa ta’s 4th monograph, Iman Mersal navigates a long and winding road, from the only surviving picture of the author has with her mother, to a deep search through what memory, photography, dreams and writing, a search of what is lost between the mainstream and more personal representations of motherhood and its struggles. How to mend the gap between the representation and the real, the photograph and its subject, the self and the other, the mother and her child. 

Iman Mersal is an Egyptian poet and associate professor of Arabic Literature and Middle Eastern Studies in the University of Alberta, Canada.

Text: Iman Mersal
Editors: Maha Maamoun and Ala Younis
Translated from Arabic by Robin Moger
Co-publishers: Kayfa ta and Sternberg Press
Design: Julie Peeters
Size: 9.6 x 14.8 cm
Pages: 168 pages, Soft cover