|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|||
|
|
Book Three ! we learn from herstory |
| “Politeness can be a trap, and [she] was caught in the web of [his] courtesy. “As you wish,” she wrote back and what made her write this was not entirely guilt, but also something untranslatable, a law which obliged her to pretend that [his] words meant no more than they said. This law is called takallouf. To unlock a society, look at its untranslatable words. Takallouf is a member of that opaque, world wide set of concepts which refuse to travel across linguistic frontiers: it refers to a form of tongue-tying formality, a social restraint so extreme as to make it impossible for the victim to express what he or she really means, a species of compulsory irony which insists, for the sake of good form, on being taken literally.” Salman Rushdie |
Chapter One ! new math |
| “There is nothing in the realm of the physical that is not improved with practice, care, concern, awareness and skill. The physical is the realm in which these disciplines are essential. Sex is a physical process.” |
Chapter Two ! tight and complicated |
| ‘I was catapulted from the touch of Heaven to the resonant ramifications of Hell.” |
Chapter Three ! peace at any price |
“Have you noticed how no one uses butter anymore?” |
Chapter Four ! pseudo |
| “To save my life, to find my life, I was going to have to do something drastic.” |
Chapter Five ! roule on |
“He was the God of Romance in human flesh.” |
Chapter Six ! prevailing |
| “Sometimes I think I see all the hands that made all the objects moving around in the room.” |
Chapter Seven ! impress |
“Everyone defines peace differently.” |
Chapter Eight ! all |
| “You are carrying a bucket on a string around your neck. You are meant to fill this bucket with self love because, if you don’t, people will throw their garbage, or worse, in your bucket as they pass by. An empty bucket is an invitation. If some one or some ones have chucked their garbage down or up-chucked their vomit into your bucket, you are under no obligation to take up your spoon and eat from this love bucket turned grunge trough.” |
Chapter Nine ! the power |
| “She never asked me what was wrong.” |
Chapter Ten ! that ever was |
“I tell you these stories to honor the dishonor of unshared sorrow.” |
Chapter Eleven ! or |
| “Oh, how I long to laugh.” |
Chapter Twelve ! will |
“She’d never had an orgasm.” |
Chapter Thirteen ! be |
| “Her story, when it comes, comes in one long exposition.” |
Chapter Fourteen ! is |
“Getting hurt is part of life.” |
Chapter Fifteen ! here now |
“She had no men friends.” |
click on the chapter number to go to a pdf of the chapter
copyright 1995