an extension of eeink devoted to feminist thought.

"If we are lucky enough to evade mass warfare and ecological disaster, to live another century or so and in rooms of our own; if we cultivate habits of courage and learning, integrity and good humor in ourselves and in each other; acknowledging the the permeability of the walls, gates, and doors that protect but divide us; if we work, even in poverty and obscurity, looking past the bogey of what we know to be parochial interests to see human beings in relation to their rooms but also to each other and to the multitudinous environments inhabited in common, for we lie in a world not our own and not ourselves; then the opportunity will come; the dormant mathematician or political visionary, scientist or composer will put on the body that was so often laid down. Drawing her life from the lives of Shakespeare's sisters -- because Shakespeare has had many sisters, of many complexions, and from many different lands [...] -- she will be born. As for her coming without renewed and determined resistance to forces that would curtail women's freedom, this would be impossible. But she is coming -- to be born not again, but for the first time, and to dwell among us." ~ Susan Gubar from _Rooms of Our Own_ p.222-3

In the gap between what one wants to say (or what one perceives there is to say) and what one can say (what is sayable), words provide for a collaboration and a desertion. We delight in our sensuous involvement with the materials of language, we long to join words to the world -- to close the gap between ourselves and things -- and we suffer from doubt and anxiety because of our inability to do so. Yet the incapacity of language to match the world permits us to distinguish our ideas and ourselves from the world and things in it from each other. The undifferentiated is one mass, the differentiated is multiple. The (imaginable) complete text, the text that contains everything, would in fact be a closed text. It would be insufferable. p. 56 _Language of Inquiry_

email: eeinkeeink@gmail.com

"Writing, in a way, is listening to the others' language and reading with others' eyes. The more ears I am able to hear with, the farther I see the plurality of meaning and the less I lend myself to the illusion of a single message. I say I write when I leave speech, when I lose my grip on it and let it make its way on its own. I am there only to provide it with a passageway. Why view these aspects of an individual which we imply in the term "writer" or "author" as projections of an isolated self and not of our common way of handling texts? For writing, like a game that defies its own rules, is an ongoing practice that may be said to be concerned, not with inserting "me" into langugage, but with creating an opening where the "me" disappears while "I" endlessly come and go, as the the nature of language requires. To confer an Author on a text is to close the writing." ~Trinh Minh-ha in _Woman Native Other_ p. 30-5

"[M]asterpieces are not single and solitary births; they are the outcome of many years of thinking in common, of thinking by the body of the people, so that the experience of the mass is behind the single voice." ~Woolf in _Room of One's Own_ p. 65

Who is the "man" who writes this text? No. Who is the man who writes this text? No. What sex is the writer who is capable of writing this text? No. What sex, then, am I who can write this text? Or: does the text decide the sex of the author? I mean the sex hidden in the sex, the imaginary sex. Or: who is the author of the author? I mean: who makes the author? p. 143 "The Author in Truth." _Coming to Writing_