friday ‘finking | mother fucking

Twisted thoughts can come from the most poetic of concepts.

Last night I went to the the premiere of Jana and Baladoor, a phantasmagorical creation of the master that still is (albeit one reputably hard to work with) Bahram Beizai. A crazy production of shadow puppets, lights, live music and ridiculously good writing, it kept me on my seat with my eyes glued to the surtitles, my ear perched on the high note of literary Farsi and my soul melting over the two storytellers (one of them being the brilliant Mohsen Namjoo) who did more than what I thought a performer is able to do by simply using the humble instrument of the human body. It was GOOD. Visionary good.

The story is quasicomplicated, well-rounded, sensible, filled with symbolic characters grander than life and, therefore, beyond morals as we, mortals, understand them. This one chick (essence of water and precursor of everything meant to give life) sleeps with her earth, fire and wind siblings. Now, THAT is entertaining to watch (picture flat shadow puppets going at it behind a screen) but also pretty shortcircuiting to deal with in the brain- generally because fucking your sister and brothers is not an easy-breezy subject, and particularly since this play is in Farsi (religious military, anyone?). That being said, the writing and the mis-en-scene managed to somehow separate the earthly meanings from the concept in a way that, in my humble opinion, is what artistic excellence is made of.

Now, on to the twisted part (that’s what you’re here for, right?). In one scene, after having made love to one of her siblings, Baladoor iterates: I am a virgin, and I am your own and my own mother.

That got me thinking- what is sex, anyway, if not a way of recreating one’s birth? All men we know came from some birth canal- the same, in essence, as the one they’re trying to put their penis into every time they utter a pick-up line. Boys come into this world head first, prying open their mothers from the inside out, materializing an expulsion, creating a void they no longer inhabit and opening a tract throughout the path taken in their passing. When they copulate, it’s the other way around. They shut an opening, they fill in the void, they recreate the motion outside-in, they start with their extremities (their penis, their fingers, whatever) and, if we were to imagine a vagina becoming this great vacuum sucking a whole man in, the head would be, somehow, the last part to see the light of day.

That being said, are men ever trying, unconsciously, to go back? Does that mean they’re looking not for sex, but to un-birth themselves by sex with [some, their, future] Mothers? 

You can now subscribe to my postings by clicking the Follow button on the bottom.

Or Bloglovin, if you please 🙂

Advertisements
Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,

2 thoughts on “friday ‘finking | mother fucking

  1. Christy says:

    If you haven’t already you should read Neil Gaiman’s American Gods. There is a scene in th first couple of chapters that fits right into your last paragraph…

  2. danasandu says:

    better written, too, I bet… 🙂
    Thanks for the reco- you always give me the most interesting of homeworks.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: