In the face of a literary canon historically dominated by the heterosexual male gaze, in which women have been relegated to the role of muse and have become an object of consumption, Edicions Proa presents Foc al cos, an anthology of Catalan female erotic poetry curated by Raquel Casas and Lidia Gàzquez. This volume centers on desire, pleasure, and the female body, highlighting how women have been creating cracks in the patriarchy for centuries, which continues to be a revolutionary act today.
The collection embarks us on a journey that begins with the troubadours traversed by the theocentrism of the Middle Ages, jumps to the 19th century, and culminates in the uninhibited irruption of poets from the late 20th and 21st centuries. Despite this chronological structure, in no case is the past mythologized, nor is the relationship of women with pleasure presented in a linear fashion. In fact, the anthology is not divided by historical periods nor does it make a specific classification of the authors; only their birth and death dates (if applicable) are indicated. In this way, the compilation is detached from rigid and artificial conceptions. Furthermore, the editors have decided not to include footnotes, which I consider a success because it avoids the intellectualization of the verses. Poems should not be considered great enigmas to decipher, but rather, above all, they must be experienced, and we must be able to approach them directly. On the other hand, the female gaze cannot become a niche issue; creating spaces for and by us is already extremely transgressive, but this entire process of deconstructing what is established must be shared with our comrades in struggle. Casas and Gàzquez point out that «erotic literature written by women not only recovers a usurped space, but also restores desire as a force of knowledge,» and this should not only appeal to us.
Another thing that Foc al cos does excellently is to return to us the complexity of which we have historically been emptied. That is, we were only conceived from a prefabricated duality: that of being the Virgin Mary or Lilith, being the saint or the whore. This reductionist myth divides women into two irreconcilable categories: the pure, submissive, and altruistic who denies desire, and the vicious, dangerous, and hypersexualized who uses her seduction as a threat. It is a polarization that annihilates any kind of nuance and from which the work completely distances itself. Furthermore, the anthology reminds us that erotic drive is not the patrimony of adolescence and youth, but rather a living force that evolves, matures, and persists throughout the years.
This common thread takes on a particularly poignant flight in contemporary voices. The most recent poets no longer limit themselves to enunciating desire or describing pleasure from a purely intimate drive; they do so from a deep self-awareness of how patriarchal dynamics traverse them from top to bottom. In their verses, there is an explicitly critical and social gaze. Eroticism is also politics and, therefore, it is necessary to continue denouncing the normative corsets that still today try to control women's sexuality. Thus, the importance of the notion of collectivity is crucial to confront an increasingly latent individualism that isolates and atomizes us. Recognizing and accompanying each other in our experiences is the true subversion.
Foc al cos does not ignore all the social constructions we carry on our backs, but, ultimately, it invites us to relate to desire and pleasure more freely, connecting with our bodies, letting ourselves be carried away by enjoyment without guilt or justifications.
