Some people have expressed interest in reading my Dissertation, so I thought I would post it here!
I'm still utterly in love with my disseration oddly. It gained me a first class grade and I don't care how odd this makes me sound... I LOVED writing this. It allowed me to explore many of my interests and things I've been facinated with for years.
My paper explores psychological theories of the fetish of wounding particularly relating to the three films (Crash, Secretary and Fight Club) which explore wounding in very different ways. I find that reasons for wounding go beneath the skin metaphorically, and can be attached to childhood traumas, painful events mid-life, emotional and sexual releases, transformation, spirituality, freedom and denial. They can take the form of harm or of liberty; they can give rise to a freedom fighter or a slave. I end up relating wounding to Roland Barthes’ idea of Punctum, as although there are many theories as to why people enjoy wounding sexually – no one theory fits all people, it has meaning for some and not others, symbolic importance to some but not all. The fusion of the erotic and life threatening is always being explored and is always intriguing.
You can click to view it full screen or you can download it... Enjoy! :)
The Fetish of the Wound: An exploration of the psychological disturbances in ‘Crash’, ‘Secretary’ and ‘Fight Club’
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Lovely post...
ReplyDeleteWith wounds
I throb, burn,
sting, sear.
They are her
far, far away.
I sit up straight,
type.
Lean back.
Let long gouges graze against the seat back.
I see her smile, hurt, cry.
A tear falls down her cheek.
I wince, grit.
Type.
Ache.
For her.
Her voice.
Her tears.
I press back again.
Her flesh.
Her warmth.
Her tenderness.
Alone, but somehow less.
It soothes.
Her breath.
Her whine.
Her cry.
The shooting pain...
Presssss.
Her nails.
Digging.
Cutting.
I will feel her.
I will hurt her.
And she me.
We hurt.
It is what we do.
In silence.
In distance.
In loneliness.
In absence.
For moments, days, weeks.
And least of all,
with wounds.
That's so beautiful. Did you write it? x
ReplyDeleteThank you. I did. It seems natural to me to experience some physical pain along-side internal turmoil that is impossible to explain/describe/tolerate. I don't personally think it is a strength, really–maybe even a failure, I think. But, I have been drawn to it nonetheless and appreciate your writing and your work. I suspect our physical wounds, no matter how severe, cannot begin to compare to those inside, for any of us...any adults anyway. But, as I would never harm another, I don't feel it is appropriate to harm myself, but I do feel like it sometimes. I guess this is why a partner in crime helps in these matters.
ReplyDelete