Authors: Monique Wittig
The women say with an oath, it was by a trick that he expelled you from the earthly paradise, cringing he insinuated himself next to you, he robbed you of that passion for knowledge of which it is written that it has the wings of the eagle, the eyes of the owl, the feet of the dragon. He has enslaved you by trickery, you who were great strong valiant. He has stolen your wisdom from you, he has closed your memory to what you were, he has made of you that which is not which does not speak which does not possess which does not write, he has made of you a vile and fallen creature, he has gagged abused betrayed you. By means of stratagems he has stultified your understanding, he has woven around you a long list of defects that he declares essential to your wellbeing, to your nature. He has invented your history. But the time approaches when you shall crush the serpent under your heel, the time approaches when you can cry, erect, filled with ardour and courage, Paradise exists in the shadow of the sword.
From pedal canoes in ambush behind the rocks the women attack the bearded strangers when they attempt a landing. They make their machines move backwards if the men abandon their intention, and hide as best they can. Relieving each other as often as is necessary not to reduce their speed of propulsion they operate their boats by means of cranks. One of these is situated at the front of the canoe, controlling backward motion, the other at the rear controls advance. A violent eddy of disturbed water from beneath the canoe comes inboard. The splashes leave white marks of salt on the bare copper-coloured breasts. They stay hidden so long as the strangers keep away from the coasts. They advance openly if the men show signs of approaching and greet them with clouds of arrows.
They exchange pleasantries about what is usually called the choice of husband. One of them cites Gyptis who for this procedure presented a cup to the solitary Euxène. Another mentions Draupadi who took five husbands. Of the first it is stated that Draupadi compared him to the apple of her eye, of the second it is stated that she compared him to the light of her life, of the third it is stated that she compared him to the treasures of her house, of the fourth it is stated that she compared him to a young acacia, of the fifth it is stated that she delighted to call him the rampart of her strength. Someone recalls the Sarmatians, the drawers of the bow, the horsewomen, the throwers of javelins, who did not take a husband until they had killed at least three enemies. Another names those who greeted their wedding-day on horseback, equipped with shields with javelins and swords. One of them stands in honour of the women of Lemnos who all massacred their husbands and made themselves mistresses of the island. Then someone begins to sing, Towards you, my dear ones, my feelings will never change.
The women say, unhappy one, men have expelled you from the world of symbols and yet they have given you names, they have called you slave, you unhappy slave. Masters, they have exercised their rights as masters. They write, of their authority to accord names, that it goes back so far that the origin of language itself may be considered an act of authority emanating from those who dominate. Thus they say that they have said, this is such or such a thing, they have attached a particular word to an object or a fact and thereby consider themselves to have appropriated it. The women say, so doing the men have bawled shouted with all their might to reduce you to silence. The women say, the language you speak poisons your glottis tongue palate lips. They say, the language you speak is made up of words that are killing you. They say, the language you speak is made up of signs that rightly speaking designate what men have appropriated. Whatever they have not laid hands on, whatever they have not pounced on like many-eyed birds of prey, does not appear in the language you speak. This is apparent precisely in the intervals that your masters have not been able to fill with their words of proprietors and possessors, this can be found in the gaps, in all that which is not a continuation of their discourse, in the zero, the O, the perfect circle that you invent to imprison them and to overthrow them.
DEMETER CASSIA POPPAEA
TAI-SI FATIMA OPAL
LEONORA EMMANUELA
BO-JI SHIRIN AGATHA
KEM-PHET MELISANDE
IRENE LEOKADIA LAURA
One of them relates the story of Vlasta. She tells how under Vlasta's guidance the first female State was created. The young women of Bohemia joined Vlasta and her troops in Moldavia in their scores of thousands. The Carpathian fortresses appear on the mountain-tops with their walls of pink sandstone. In their courtyards after weapon drill the assembled women compose songs and invent games. Another of them recalls that in the female State men were tolerated only for servile tasks and that they were forbidden under pain of death to bear arms or mount on horseback. At the Bohemian ambassadors arriving in great anger to enjoin them to surrender they cock a snook and make a long nose and send them back, emasculated. Later they put many troops to flight and enter into a long war during which Vlasta's warriors teach all the peasant women who join them how to handle arms.
The women say, whether men live or die, they no longer have power. They are seated in a circle. Some have undone their tunics because of the heat. Their breasts touch their knees. Their hair is twisted into innumerable strands. They say that they have instructed fast runners, bearers of news. Awaiting their arrival they sing, sitting in groups or squatting on their heels, anacyclic songs such as, If the slaves/unwillingly exhaust themselves, standing to insult/their hateful masters/they die but without/letting fall their weapons/too eager for the struggle/to fly and hide.
They say, Vile, vile creature for whom possession is equated with happiness, a sacred cow on the same footing as riches, power, leisure. Has he not indeed written, power and the possession of women, leisure and the enjoyment of women? He writes that you are currency, an item of exchange. He writes, barter, barter, possession and acquisition of women and merchandise. Better for you to see your guts in the sun and utter the death-rattle than to live a life that anyone can appropriate. What belongs to you on this earth? Only death. No power on earth can take that away from you. And—consider explain tell yourself—if happiness consists in the possession of something, then hold fast to this sovereign happiness—to die.
They say that they sing with such utter fury that the movement that carries them forward is irresistible. They say that oppression engenders hate. They are heard on all sides crying hate hate.
The women menace they attack they hiss the men they revile them jeer at them spit in their faces scoff at them provoke them flout them apostrophize them mishandle them are abrupt with them they speak coarsely to them execrate them call down curses on them. They are possessed by such utter fury that they boil with anger tremble choke grind their teeth foam blaze rage and fume leap vomit run riot. Then they call them to account admonish them put a knife to their throats intimidate them show them their fists they thrash them do violence to them acquaint them with all their grievances in the greatest disorder they sow the seed of discord here and there provoke dissension among them divide them ferment disturbances riots civil ware they treat them as hostile. Their violence is unleashed they are in a paroxysm of rage, in their devastating enthusiasm they appear wild-eyed hair bristling clenching their fists roaring rushing shrieking slaughtering in fury one might say of them that they are females who look like women when they are dead.
VOLUMNIA YAO SHAGHAB
OPPIENNE LUCY AUDE
HEDWIG LEONIE AGNES
TAMARA FRANCE AHON
SORANA RUZENA SALLY
SU-YEN KIUNG TERESA
Great blades with cutting edges like those of razors are arranged in quincunxes parallel to the ground at different levels around the camp. To anyone who arrives opposite them they appear like a series of broken lines. At night they are invisible. Sentries keep watch behind the scythes so that no attack may interfere with their arrangements. The others sleep despite the shots despite the victims' cries of pain and surprise which are heard time and again at different points. In the morning working parties relieve the sentries and collect the portions of bodies divided by the blades in large baskets. These may be heads chests legs singly or attached to the pelvis an arm, according to the level at which the attackers have run into the blades. The collected bodies are buried in a large ditch which they fill and cover with a pile of earth. Then they plant their flags there in great number, some sow flowers there. Standing they chant a song of mourning for the men who have died in combat.
It is said of the army of Sporphyra that it advances like Koo, superb, ferocious, astride a tiger, beautiful in countenance. They say of the army of Wu that it is always on a war footing like Sseu-Kuan of the eleven heads, the many-armed, who bears an eye on each of her palms. The women of Perségame go in groups, sowing disorder and confusion, unleashing around them the desire for orgasm like cat-headed Obel. They say that some of the women infiltrate into the enemy troops, bodies painted blue and yellow, sowers of defeat like the cruel Seumes. From Apone the horsewomen have learned how to stay fast in the saddle and to look after their encampments. The women of Gathma declare themselves fitted to destroy the enemy like Segma the lion-headed, the well-named, the powerful, the drinker of blood.
They say they have the strength of the lion the hate of the tiger the cunning of the fox the patience of the cat the perseverance of the horse the tenacity of the jackal. They say, I shall be the universal vengeance. They say, I shall be the Attila of these ferocious despots, cause of our tears and our sufferings. They say, and when by good fortune all women wish to rally to me, each alike shall be Nero and set fire to Rome. They say, War, rally! They say, War, forward! They say that once they have arms in their hands they will not yield them. They say that they will shake the world like thunder and lightning.
They have modelled their most formidable weapon on the metallic mirror that the goddesses of the sun hold up to the light when they advance on the forecourt of the temples. They have copied its shape and its power of reflecting light. Each of them holds a mirror in her hand. They hide behind the tall reeds, the tough plants of the swamps. They use the sun's rays to communicate among themselves. When it is used as a weapon the mirror projects death-dealing rays. The women station themselves by the sides of the roads that traverse the undergrowth, weapons at the ready, killing all those who pass, whether these be animals or humans. They do not die immediately. Then the women reach their prey at a bound and, giving the signal, joined at once by the others, they begin to dance while uttering cries, swaying to and fro, while their victim writhes on the ground, shaken by spasms and groaning.
THEOPHANO CEZA OLGA
VIRGILIA PORTIA XU-HU
ABAN CLEMENTINE ABRA
HODE MARTHA JACINTHA
MAGGIE URIA DOROTHY
AGRIPPINA DIRCE NELL
To those who ask the meaning of the initials T C O B they answer, you cannot know the meaning. T C O B, they say you may seek it since you have the first letter of each word. They say, it can mean nothing to you, even written out in full. T C O B. They say, if I translate for you, The Conjuration of Balkis, what can you infer from that? They say that the uprisings have increased in extent and number. They say that in view of their spread the abbreviation can no longer be used in the singular. They say that the conjurations of Balkis can no longer be counted. They say that when the conspirators meet they make the sign of the circle by joining their index fingers and thumbs together in that shape. If the conspirators turn their palms outward to make the sign of the circle, thumbs joined below, indices above, it is because the news is good, the war is going well. If on the contrary they show the backs of their hands, indices below, thumbs uppermost, it is because they have somewhere suffered a reverse.
The women cry out and run towards the young men arms laden with flowers which they offer them saying, Let all this have a meaning. Some of the women pulling quantities of heads off the flowers arranged in armfuls, throw them in their faces. The men shake their hair and laugh, moving away from the women and coming nearer again. Some run away and let themselves fall down limply, eyes closed, hands outstretched. Others are completely hidden by the heaps of flowers the women have thrown over them. There are roses tulips peonies lupins poppies snapdragons asters cornflowers irises euphorbias buttercups campanulas. Everywhere on the sands there are petals and fragments of corollas that make white red dark-blue pale-blue ultramarine yellow and violet splashes. Some of the men say they are drunk. They are seen rolling about in the immense bouquets scattered sheaves broken wreaths. They seize the flowers in handfuls and pressing them against their eyelids against their open mouths, they begin to utter soft hoarse sounds.
One of the women relates an old story. For example how Thomar Li the young girl with the high breasts was surprised with the handsome Hedon. They speak of the punishment meted out to them. They say that they picture them fastened to one another, limbs bound together, wrist to wrist, ankle tied to ankle. They say that they picture them when they are thrown in the river, without uttering a cry of supplication. They say, victory victory. They say how pleasing to them is their contact, how their limbs relax and soften, how their muscles—touched by pleasure—become supple and light, how in this wretched state, when they are marked for death, their bodies—unbound and full of calm—begin to float, how the warm water, pleasing to the touch, carries them to a beach of fine sand, where they fall asleep from fatigue.
The young men have joined the women to bury the dead. Immense communal graves have previously been dug. The corpses are arranged one beside the other, bearing a circle drawn in black on their foreheads. Their stiffened arms are bound against their bodies, their feet are tied. All the bodies have been mummified and treated with care for long preservation. The graves are not covered in with earth. Slabs are intended to seal them according to an arrangement that permits of their removal at any time. The women stand beside the graves, the men who have joined them by their sides, wearing like them the costume of peace which consists of black trousers flared at the ankles and a white tunic that hugs the chest. At a given moment the women interrupt their discourse and turning towards the young men take them by the hand. Then they stay like this in silence, holding each other by the hand, looking straight ahead at the open graves.