Self-Immolation as a viable protest form in Bulgaria, 2013

Below is a paper that I wrote for my resistance and social movements course this semester. I am new to this section of anthropology, and a little insecure about it. That being said, if this is interesting to anyone I would love feedback, both critical and constructive about the theories, opinions, and examples that I use in the paper. Overall, I would also love if anyone has something that they contest regarding the information I gathered on the protests, and their feelings about Bulgaria and social movements.

Self-Immolation as Resistance in Bulgaria

On May 25, 2013 I visited Varna, Bulgaria. By then the protests that had heated the winter in Bulgaria had subsided, but they had left behind their material traces, and a feeling of expectation remained in the air. In the evening I went to the city center. The day was bright and warm, and by the end of May, Varna is usually beginning to fill with tourists and weekenders heading to the beach. Instead of the expected crowd I was met with an unusual quiet. Very few people were in the park next to the Obshtina (city hall). In front of the Obshtina was a tent, a few posters, and a large pile of rocks. The posters were mostly in memory of Plamen Garonov, an activist who had set himself on fire during the February protests, and the pile of rocks were in reference to a famous poem by the revolutionary, Ivan Vazov, who worked to free the Bulgarians from Ottoman rule in the late 1800’s. In the poem the mayor of a village gives his daughter to the Ottoman Turks, rather than allow her to be with a poor Bulgarian, an act so evil that it brings drought and famine on the village. In retaliation the people of the village build a pile of stones near the village, and with each stone curse the mayor, until he ultimately has to flee the village. The final refrain of the poem speaks of how the pile of stones continues to grow even after the mayor flees and warns that the people will remember the wrongs that have been committed against them:

От тогава веч минуват Месеци, години, Много случки и преврати Видеха очи ни. А грамадата расте се Неусетно, тайно И камънте върху нея Фърчат непрестайно. Че сюрмашки сълзи клети Лесно не изсъхват, Злите спомени в душата Скоро не заглъхват...

Since then have passed Months, years, Many incidents and revolutions Our eyes have seen. And the cairn grows Imperceptibly, secretly And the rocks upon it Fly without end. An unfortunate man’s wretched tears Do not easily dry, Evil memories in the soul Are not soon forgotten.

(Vazov, 1936)

When I left Bulgaria in August of 2012 I had not seen a nation that was poised on the edge of revolution. Being a volunteer with a United States governmentally funded program, I was required to stay far away from the topics and issues of politics, but I suspected that political unrest strong enough to displace the prime minister within a year would have been felt in all aspects of life. Instead what I felt was a general buzz of dissatisfaction, not clearly directed towards any one thing, and definitely not violent or capable of inspiring people to movement. In February 2013 I was not shocked to hear about the widespread energy protests being held in Bulgaria. In my experience Bulgarians have a tendency to protest often, in a peaceful and organized fashion. What shocked me was the news that the protests had taken a turn towards self-inflicted violence. Over the course of two months seven people set themselves on fire in various cities around Bulgaria, only one of whom survived. Due to these extreme acts, coupled with some of the largest protests that Bulgaria has seen since 1996, the Prime Minister, Boyko Borisov, along with his cabinet and the mayor of Varna, resigned. What was more unsettling than the actual events unfolding in Bulgaria was the way in which the world accepted the news, as if self-immolation and the resignation of an entire government was common. Although international news sources mentioned the events in Bulgaria no one seemed particularly concerned or even overly interested in the outcomes of the political protests. In this paper I will examine the causes of the protests more in depth, including proposing reasons for the use of self-immolation in Bulgaria, and briefly discuss the future potential of the protests.

Background

On January 28, 2013 protests began in the Southwest city of Blagoevgrad over unusually high energy bills. Bills of some residents doubled and tripled from the previous year’s expenditure and many Bulgarians did not have the money to pay their bills, which included high taxes and fees in addition to a raise in the unit-price of electricity. Over the next month protests spread to the entirety of Bulgaria with thousands of protesters gathering in Varna, Plovdiv, and the capital of Sofia. Protest activity included marching, blocking public streets, throwing eggs and vegetables at public buildings, and burning electricity bills. Protesters made varying demands including the removal of the Bulgarian government, nationalization of energy companies, and withdrawal from the European Union. The most extreme acts of protest included seven Bulgarians lighting themselves on fire. They each set themselves on fire for varying reasons, mostly unclear to the public and media, and of the seven only Dimitor Dimitrov remains alive. Of the seven cases only that of Plamen Garonov took on popular political significance both nationally and globally as his death was compared to that of Jan Palach’s self-immolation in Czechoslovakia in 1969. Garonov had a history of political activism, specifically against the holding corporation TIM (Thought to be a Mafia-run company influencing the private and political spheres in Bulgaria) and the supposed corruption of the recently resigned mayor of Varna. The other protesters were less well known and various sources cite personal financial and relationship issues as the reasons for their self-immolations.

In order to better understand the current situation leading to the protests in Bulgaria it is necessary to briefly review the political history and process of privatization of energy production since the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991. By tracing the production and consumption of energy in Bulgaria, similar to how Timothy Mitchell discusses the move from coal to oil in “Carbon Democracy,” the hegemonic and repressive forces in contemporary Bulgaria can be made clear. Although an in-depth analysis of energy production is beyond the scope of this paper, a brief analysis is necessary in order to understand the spark that ignited the protests last winter. Bulgarian energy distribution was privatized in 2004, with three foreign companies, CEZ from the Czech Republic, E.ON from Germany, and and EVN of Austria becoming the main suppliers. The privatization was a necessary compliance for acceptance into the European Union, and competition was expected to keep energy rates low for consumers. However, each company distributes power to a different region in Bulgaria which frees them from a competitive structure. Recent price increases were caused by the state regulatory agency allowing for the implementation of a flat rate for electricity consumption as opposed to the previously used tiered system, which significantly raised the costs of electricity for customers who consume less, while lowering the overall rate for customers who consume more. (The Power Brokers) In addition taxes and fees have been implemented by the private companies in order to cover expenses associated with the modernization of the energy grid in Bulgaria and to cover the losses incurred due to energy theft. However, some of these expenses are suspected of including luxury corporate transportation for the foreign companies and other expenses that the people of Bulgaria do not feel responsible for. This is in addition to the cost of switching Bulgaria to more sources of renewable energy and closing two nuclear power plants as per European Union demands. Although Bulgaria has the lowest energy prices within the EU, Bulgarians also have the lowest overall income at around 400 euro per month, making the ratio of the bills to monthly income unbearable for many consumers. (G.K.)

Although the protests in Bulgaria started specifically against high electricity costs they quickly became more general, covering many grievances including corruption within the government and the poor standard of living that many Bulgarians face relative to other European Union member states. As protests continued organization was arranged in major cities such as Slivin and Sofia. On February 20, 2013 Prime Minister Boyko Borisov stepped down from office, along with his cabinet. A letter, drafted by the Civic Initiative Committee and claiming to be the voice of the Bulgarian people, was presented to the president on February 24, calling for constitutional changes.  On March 6 Varna mayor Kiril Yordanev left office. On May 12 special elections were held. There was a particularly low voter turnout, of 53%, and although Borisov once again received the most votes no party achieved a majority in parliament, and several parties fell below the 4% threshold requirement for representation in parliament, leaving about 25% of voters unrepresented. (Dimitrova) Currently protesting has stopped although several claims have been made that the protests will continue unless changes are made.

Self-Immolations as an Acceptable Global Discourse

Before examining the general resistance in Bulgaria I want to consider the extreme action of self-immolation that occurred during the period of these protests. The extreme violence makes these acts difficult to consider, and I find myself faced with a similar issue that Emma Goldman highlighted a hundred years ago in her essay, “The Psychology of Physical Violence.” If an academic writes about violence with understanding or intelligence then they are accused of “eulogizing” it, and if they express sympathy with the actor, then they can be considered an accomplice. (Goldman) Because the violence was self-inflicted on the personal bodies of the actors, a bit of sympathy is allowable, however, with the desire to maintain academic credibility the expression of emotion that such action can provoke is limited in this paper. It is exactly that limitation, in both academia and popular media, that I wish to explore, along with offering reasons as to how and why self-immolation is a meaningful and allowable action within the discourse of resistance.

I will begin by an action of my own: the naming of the seven victims of self-immolation. The choice of the title, “victim,” is something that I still debate. While not wanting to strip the men of their agency in the act of self-immolation, I want to highlight the tragedy of their loss against the backdrop of the larger social forces that popularize self-immolation as a valid choice of protest. I chose to use the term victim only because there does not exist a term which fully encompasses such an act of self-harm.

Victims of Self-immolation, and date:

February 18: Trayan Marechkov

February 20: Plamen Garonov

February 26: Ventsislav Vesilov

March 13: Dimitor Dimitrov

March 18: Simeon Simeonov

March 22: Todor Yovchev

May 1: Ventsislav Kozarev

This list is important only because it has not been publicly and prominently compiled. Newspapers, both local and international, tended to report each incident as, “a man from...” as opposed to using the names of the victims. Although this is a standard practice to protect the anonymity of the victims and their families, the question is raised of whether anonymity is necessary when the action was an obvious choice to draw attention to a situation, and what purpose the de-identification of these men serves.

Sherry Ortner’s article, “Resistance and the Problem of Ethnographic Refusal,” is useful in understanding the problems and purposes of de-identification. Although Ortner’s article was a critique on ethnographic style, some of her concepts can be applied to popular media. Ortner argued for an ethnographic stance founded on Geertz’ concept of thickness, including ideas of exhaustiveness, holism, and contextualization. (174) She went further to state that three practices which limit thickness when dealing with resistance studies are sanitizing politics, thinning culture, and dissolving subjects. Dissolving subjects can be done in two extremes, either by dissolving individuals into a group that has a unitary identity and consciousness, or by giving an individual so much complexity that their political will is stripped of them. (Ortner, 174) The lack of identification of these men manages to accomplish both of these dissolutions at once. On the one hand, by simply referring to the victims as, “a man from Bulgaria who lit himself on fire,” the individuals are reduced to a single action, which can be claimed by various political groups in support of the general protests. The men are assumed to have the same political goals and identity of a larger, homogenous group of protesters, which, in reality, does not exist. On the other hand, some articles vaguely refer to various, non-political hardships in the lives of the victims, creating a complexity of will that waters-down the action. In either case, the identity of the man, along with his will, is not sought by popular media. This de-identification serves to perpetuate the romance associated with resistance as opposed to giving actual agency to the victims, which would be useful in understanding their motives for self-immolating, as well as adding to the understanding of the general protests in Bulgaria.

There was one victim whose name was well-known and used often. That was Plamen Garanov. Garanov was the second to light himself on fire, in the streets of Varna. He was a well-known photographer, sports enthusiast, and political activist, 36 years old. Garanov’s popularity and activism before the protests, along with his young age, and that his name means, “flame,” made him a logical choice for the poster-child of the self-immolations. His action was compared to that of the student, Jan Palach, who lit himself on fire to protest the Soviets in Czechoslovakia in January, 1969. This comparison shows a certain level of acceptance, and precedence, of self-immolation during Eastern European winters.

The precedence of self-immolation, which is becoming more globally public, if not more prevalent, is an important aspect to understanding why self-immolation is a choice for protest. According to Tilly, the prevailing repertoire of collective action constrains the path of social movements, and influences its outcome. (Tilly, 25) Although the creative actions of a human are not limited to repetitions of past actions, they are influenced by what has been done before, especially if it was successful. A certain dialogue of action becomes acceptable in the political arena through years of precedence. Actions become symbols that can be placed into categories of valid resistance, or unacceptable terrorism. Self-immolation, through the precedence of Jan Palach, and many other immolations since the 1960’s has become an action that is proven to gain international attention, and is considered a valid form of protest.

Valid forms of protest are increasingly limited by the global hegemony that monopolizes force as a propriety of the state. According to Warner, violence is an illegitimate force, and if a state is strong, then more forms of force and injury are regarded as violent unless they are delegated to officials. In this way the state is able to monopolize force and delegitimize violence in civil life. (Warner, 45) Because protesters are not public officials their actions are considered civil action, despite their political intent, which greatly limits the amount and types of force that they can use. The use of force is not only limited by the local government and state, but internationally through a popular discourse against violence and for human rights. On a global scale resistance, in order to gain legitimacy, must adhere to certain rules of engagement. The global War on Terror over the past decade has helped to solidify those rules of engagement. Whereas historically people could have potentially gained awareness for their cause through acts of destruction of public property, and violent revolutions, those actions now fall under the umbrella of terrorism. In the act of naming a resistive action as terrorism it is stripped of reason and considered illegitimate.  In order to call attention to their cause people begin to destroy their own property but ultimately any material destruction can be looked on as an overall public loss, delegitimizing the action. This leaves a single material form of resistance as globally acceptable, which is the destruction of self. One would think that at this point a person would not choose force, or would cease to resist, but Goldman posits the eruption of violence as inevitable, like a thunderstorm, when a society is continually oppressed. (Goldman) Self-immolation not only serves to affirm the autonomy of the self within the public sphere, but also to draw sympathy towards a cause within the acceptable rules of engagement.

Bulgaria as a Space of Resistance

Bulgaria has a strong history of resistance. Beginning with the Byzantine rule in the eleventh century, a peasant uprising in the thirteenth century, and five-hundred years of Ottoman rule until the nineteenth century, Bulgaria has constantly been a space where people have had to find creative ways to live their lives, and maintain their culture, beneath oppression. Throughout the years both overt and covert resistance have had their place, but Bulgaria has not had a large amount of social movements. The question is whether this winter’s protests will actually achieve a change in the basic culture and politics of Bulgaria, or simply fade as another historical moment of overt resistance.

In order to understand the possibility of Bulgarian resistance to invoke change in Bulgaria it is necessary to first consider resistance generally. I will take ideas concerning overt and covert resistance from James Scott, and blend them with concepts of social movements from Charles Tilly in order to form a more complete picture of what resistance is. Covert resistance includes acts of everyday resistance and infrapolitics, whereas overt resistance are acts of force that blatantly stand out against oppression. (Scott). Some would argue that overt and covert resistance is a continuum of expression, unable to coexist, but Matthew Gutmann argues against the danger of dualism, claiming that covert and overt resistance work together, alternate, and transform into each other. (77)  He proposes that overt resistance provides more room to maneuver for those who are similarly inclined but more hesitant to act. (Gutmann, 80) In this model the protests in Bulgaria are a form of overt resistance, which followed a stage of covert resistance wherein individual Bulgarians complained about the corruption and practiced avoidance in politics, but did not act out against their leadership. However, where does the concept of social movements fit into this model? I believe that social movements involve both covert and overt resistance, but go beyond resistance to include a focus on change. Tilly focuses on the sustainability of social movements, stating that social movements are sustained interactions between changing sets of challengers and authorities. (Tilly, 25) Arturo Escobar rounds out this definition by connecting social movements to cultural struggles and positing them as a struggle over the control of historicity. (397, 400) He claims that social movements go beyond a struggle of economic survival and are the defense, creation, and reconstruction of cultural meanings. (Escobar, 412) In other words social movements should be sustained through a period of different sets of actors and focus on construction rather than survival or deconstruction. Social movements utilize both covert and overt resistance, but while resistance focuses on short-term changes within the oppressive force, social movements focus on long-term changes to the culture that encompasses both the oppressed and oppressor. In this light Bulgarians have a tendency to focus more on resistance and less on social movement.

In Bulgaria resistance has a higher traditional value than change. Bulgarians take a certain pride in their history of repression. When I speak with Bulgarians most of them will advance a similar notion that it is very important that Bulgaria was repressed by the Ottoman Empire, and yet was able to maintain its language, culture, and ethnic identity as Bulgarian. This is a view expressed by younger Bulgarians as well as older generations, with varying degrees of nationalistic loyalty. Similarly to the importance of endurance through repression, most Bulgarians will identify the resistors during the period of Ottoman rule, the poets Ivan Vasov and Hristo Botev, as well as the revolutionary Vasil Levski, to be the key representation of heroism in Bulgaria. It is important to note that these men were famous for their resistance in the form of creating engagement among Bulgarians through writing, speaking, and fighting physically for freedom, not for restructuring Bulgaria after they won their freedom. It is because of this that I claim Bulgarians have a fascination with resistance rather than actual change, wherein resistance is fetishized as freedom. Bulgarians desire to protest, but do not to act to make changes in their situation. Whether this is because the path to change is without precedent, or because Bulgarians do not actually desire change is unclear.  

The pile of rocks that is left in front of the town hall in Varna is a telling material reference to these national heroes, and the historicity of Bulgarian resistance. Ivan Vazov’s famous poem, Gramada, presents an option for protest which is particularly effective because it is entwined in cultural history, making it nearly impossible for city officials to remove without causing public backlash and, in a way, disassociating themselves with a cultural hero. This use of a historic cultural symbol also shows that Bulgarians maintain a certain loyalty with their cultural roots, it is only the actions of the current government which they wish to contest. Erica Weiss makes a claim that we should not look for resistance only on the fringes of hegemonic dominance, but within the heart of the hegemony as people are capable of internalizing certain aspects of hegemony while rejecting others. (Weiss, 586) I argue that Bulgarian’s strong sense of loyalty to the Bulgarian cultural identity prevents them from creating a social movement, while allowing them to resist against a government which they do not view as authentic to the hegemonic ideals.

Another reason that a social movement cannot be achieved through Bulgarian resistance is the complexity of the resistors. The reasons why individuals join together to protest against a dominating force are usually complex and varied. Some join for moral reasons and others are inspired by financial need. Still others join simply to be part of a movement or to make themselves politically relevant within their power structure. In the case of the Bulgarian protests, a common interest of high-electricity bills started the action, but it quickly grew in complexity and by the time that it was a nationwide protest the reasons for protesting, as well as the desired outcomes of the protest were varied. Because the protests started as general protests, as opposed to an organized event, there was a power vacuum created by many voices expressing discontent without concrete demands being made. At that point many leaders could have stepped in to act as the voice for the protests. Committees were formed in several of the main cities and national assemblies were held regarding the protests. However, there was concern among those in attendance at these meetings that there were political representatives in attendance, working to sway public opinion. On February 24 a letter was presented to President Rosen Plevneliev from the Civic Initiative Committee making various demands regarding politics, energy, heating, and water. (Sofia Globe)

When studying resistance it is dangerous to take such demands as the voice of the people that they claim to be. To do so is to fall into Ortner’s trap of sanitizing politics by ignoring the internal politics of a group of resistors and constructing a romantic depiction of only two conflicting forces, the oppressors and the oppressed. (Ortner, 177)  The internal politics of the oppressed group in Bulgaria involves issues of racism, class, and urban versus rural. Although all of these political groups may be able to unite momentarily in an act of resistance against, “corruption,” the complexity of the internal politics prevents the group from agreeing on the construction of cultural reform, making the emergence of a social movement unlikely.  

The last reason that Bulgarians are more likely to show a single show of resistance rather than concentrate on construction is due to a limiting global discourse similar to the one discussed above. Mainly this discourse takes the form of the occupy movement, which began with, “Occupy Wall Street,” and has grown to, “Occupy Everywhere.” The occupy movement, which I argue is not actually a movement so much as a brand of resistance, has become globally fashionable. Within the movement protestors are called upon to resist oppression and to call attention to corruption and unfairness. What the movement lacks is any form of cultural construction. It is a movement of deconstruction. As this has become the global trend Bulgarians were able to use the momentum of the occupy movement, but once their government resigned there was no plan in place to make changes, resulting in the eventual re-election of GERB as the main party. Although a liminal space was created between the resignation of the Prime Minister and the special elections, it was not acted upon. The relatively low voter-turnout shows a lack of trust in the political system and yet alternatives are not being suggested. I believe that this is partially because of the popular fascination with resistance. Michael Brown highlights a theoretical hegemony within academia dominating research and blurring the complexity of situations, (729) and I argue that the occupy movement has brought that same hegemony into a public space.

Conclusion

This paper has explored the protests last winter in Bulgaria as a form of resistance against what is viewed by many people as a corrupt government. It was my desire to highlight the desperation behind the general protests, and more specifically, the seven acts of self-immolation that occurred during this time of protest, in order to give some reason as to why self-immolation has become not only a valid form of resistance, but one of the only forms of valid physical resistance left in Bulgaria. I then discussed the historical precedence for resistance in Bulgaria and discussed the barriers to creating cultural and political change within the country as an aspect of hegemonic loyalty and global limitations on the discourse of construction. Ultimately it is my desire to call attention to the lack of emphasis on constructive options for public masses, and similar to Michael Brown’s call for academics to look beyond domination and power in their studies (734) I call for a focus on expanding the global vocabulary of resistance to include options of cultural and political construction rather than leaving self-immolation as the best option for political expression.

Works Cited

Brown, Michael J. 1996. “On Resisting Resistance.” American Anthropologist, 98(4): 729-749.

Dimitrova, Antoaneta. 2013. “Bulgaria’s Low Election Turnout is a Symptom of the Growing Mistrust of the Ruling GERB Party and the Country’s Political System.” The London School of Economics and Political Science retreived from: http://blogs.lse.ac.uk/europpblog/2013/05/16/bulgaria-elections/ on 03.06.2013.

Escobar, Arturo. 1992. “Culture, Practice and Politics: Anthropology and the Study of Social Movements.” Critique of Anthropology, 12(4): 395- 432.  

G.K. 2013. “Protesting About Power Prices.” Eastern approaches: Ex-communist Europe in The Economist. Retrieved from: http://www.economist.com/blogs/easternapproaches/2013/02/bulgarias-electricity-prices on 03.06.2013.

Goldman, Emma. 1917. “The Psychology of Physical Violence.” Anarchism and Other Essays. Retrieved from womenshistory.about.com

Gutmann, Matthew C. 1993. “Rituals of Resistance: A Critique of the Theory of Everyday Forms of Resistance.” Latin American Perspectives, 77(20):74-92.

Mitchell, Timothy. 2009. “Carbon Democracy.” Economy and Society, 38(3): 399- 432.

Ortner, Sherry B. 1995. “Resistance and the Problem of Ethnographic Refusal.” Comparative Studies in Society and History, 37(1):173-193.

The Power Brokers. 2013. “Bulgaria Loosing Power.” Retrieved from: https://reportingproject.net/powerbrokers/sub_country05.html on 03.06.2013.

Scott, J.C. 1990. Domination and the Arts of Resistance: Hidden Transcripts. New Haven; Yale University Press.

Sofia Globe. 2013. “Bulgarian Political Crisis: Protesters’ Demands, in English.” retrieved from: http://sofiaglobe.com/2013/02/25/bulgarian-political-crisis-protesters-demands-in-english/ on 03.06.2013.

Tilly, Charles. 1984. “Social Movements and National Politics.” Statemeaking and Social Movements: Essays in History and Theory. Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 279-319.

Warner, Michael. 2003. “What Like a Bullet Can Undeceive?” Public Culture, 15(1): 41- 54.

Weiss, Erica. 2011. “The Interrupted Sacrifice: Hegemony and Moral Crisis Among Israeli Conscientious Objectors.” American Ethnologist, 38(3): 576- 588.

The Impact of the Romanticized

There are people in my life that never became real, and yet I attached to them for some reason. Usually the method of attachment was standard attraction, although not always physical attraction. (I hate always feeling the need to clarify my choice of words like attraction and romance to take them out of the modern dialogue of love and sex.) I was attracted to these people because they were outgoing, or because they were spiritual, or because they had a cause, or because they had a skill, or passion. As an example I will give my co-crew leader from five years ago, Brian. My first season as a crew leader I did not have the best of luck with co-leaders. First I had Isaac who decided that the only way to bond with our all-male crew was through the objectification of women. I have no doubt that my unveiled, vehement threats of starting the process of official sexual-harassment proceedings against him aided in his decision to quit. Well, that mixed with a healthy dose of laziness that did not suit the trail-world particularly well. My second co-leader was Russ. Now Russ was a major improvement on Isaac. First of all he was my friend. Secondly, he knew what he was doing trail-wise. He had skills. But he also had anxiety issues and perfection issues and we were in rather constant conflict. I will take a lot of the blame for that one, but the fact of the matter is that I still had not had a positive crew-leader experience. Then came Brian.

Brian was like a breath of fresh air. He was professional. He had trail-knowledge. He was creative. He was absolutely positive and determined to have fun. He found ways to bond with the crew that were not based on sexuality. He was, compared to all of my experiences, perfect. He was the first real mentor that I had been given as a crew leader. We were co-leaders for about a month, and it was my happiest time as a crew leader despite a dysfunctional crew that could not be brought back from all of the mommy-daddy issues that my prior leadership combinations had inflicted on them. I am thankful for my experience with Brian because it changed many of my rather dismal perspectives about trail life and affirmed many of my life values. In a very short time he endeared himself to me as a trail-god, and I completely romanticized him.

But what exactly is the romanticization of a person? I never got to know him. There just wasn't time, and yet I filled in the blanks with all of the positive attributes that I needed to believe in. Brian became this open, vulnerable, strong person that I thought was the ultimate goal in life. These are not imagined attributes- they clearly existed in him, but due to circumstance they were all that I knew of him. We all have struggle- I am not so naive as to discount the place of humanity on earth as one of struggle and becoming- but his struggle was veiled, not through his own shame but through time and circumstance. Therefore Brian, in my imagined world, became only the romantic side of whoever he may be. Over the years I have kept up with him through facebook and the occasional personal exchange, and it is as if we know each other well. I would be hesitant to say that I do not know him, because our romantic persona is perhaps as important to the functioning of the world as our whole persona. However he is hopes and shadows and possibilities, without the muck of real-life.

Alternatively there are people who have touched my life and cannot remain romanticized despite my heart's better efforts. As an example I give Cyrano. She is an amazingly strong force in my life, from the creation of beliefs to the affirmation of others. She also started as a romanticized being. For two years she was the epitome of camp-counselors. She was forceful, charismatic, unbelievably intelligent, and with a strong sense of values. Then she became real. Our relationship was messy and I was exposed to the faults of her, and able to accept her as a full person instead of an ultimate being. To this day I have a split interaction with Cyrano- that of the romantic and that of the realistic. Every time she writes me an email or a message from her pops up I am jolted with the negotiation of my romanticized version of her against the real version, and I have to carefully choose my mode of interaction in order to maintain the depth of the real relationship that we have built together. Sometimes it would be much more simple to let her slide away into perfection, but the benefits of the reality and trust within the act of relating outweigh my laziness, most of the time.

Then there are the people who were never romanticized. Nikola did not have the time to be romanticized. He fell into my life complete and real from the first day, and even now still grows in dimension, without running the risk of being flattened by my standardized schema. My constant closeness and interaction with Nikola does not give me the space or time necessary to classify him within my standard categories. He is a constant surprise.

So there are these people- the ever-romantic, semi-romantic, and never-romantic, and the question becomes what are the effects of these people in our lives. I think that society tends to extol the benefits of 'real' relationships and so I do not have to elaborate there. But what does the romantic imaginings of a character contribute to my experience as a being? Returning to the concept of Brian I will say that he has been critical in shaping my schema. In the way that I sometimes say a sentence out loud just to see if I actually believe it, I can try on the romance of an individual to see if I actually support an ideal. Brian  acted as a sentence that I let echo- the sentence that men can be sensitive and yet strong, that leaders can be confident and yet humble, that trail work can be enthusiastic and yet serious. He was my testing of the ultimate in contradictions concerning a more rugged form of life. And the test passed, with flying colors. Yes, I do believe those aspects are worth striving for. Yes, I do believe they are possible. Yes, I do believe that they are worthwhile values to hold onto. Now, when I falter in my convictions I have that warm spring month to reflect on, and to remember my romantic notion of perfection, and all that life can hold for those that give an effort and a care. It is an important role for romance to fill, that of hope.

Romancing Venice

I went to Venice, once.

I am not really the type to read books that are tied to a time and place. The books that I read, and the stories that I write, could happen anywhere. They involve bodiless entities floating in an ether, spiraling inwards. They are books that discover the self, and ideals. They rarely muck themselves up with time and space. If setting is required it is generally a minor feature, gratuitous, less than a backdrop. However, I had a friend who read me a book in which one of the many story lines was set in Venice. The book was gorgeous. The author said so much by saying very little. She eluded. She drew on history and stereotypes. Her writing drew me into Napoleonic France, the Russian front, and ultimately a love story behind closed doors along the water-ways in Venice. The book, in case you have not already guessed it, was The Passion, which is not really about any of those moments or places at all, but it does an excellent job of drawing the stories out of these places, and putting a new glaze over them. It is just brilliant writing. It was so brilliant that among my "places I really need to go while in Europe" list, Venice was on the top, followed with Hemingway inspired Spain and a large empty space beneath. When I had the option of tacking Venice onto my marathon trip to Rome I did not hesitate. I went to Venice.

Venice was everything that I had hoped for, but then my hopes had not been concrete and were, therefore, easily met. My partner and I strolled lazily along the streets, letting monuments reach out to meet us, if they so wished. We were more concerned with relaxation and good food than site-seeing. Our ultimate experience in Venice was sitting by the water, eating bread and cheese from a deli and drinking tap-wine from an old water bottle. We repeated the situation several times, culminating in a final morning of sparkling wine and an old woman grumbling at us for plopping down in the middle of a set of steps rather than finding a proper piazza to infest. It was a glorious holiday, and as I look back I am still grateful that the city was able to live up to that bubble of romance that long days listening to my lover's voice drone out Winterson had created for me. I am grateful that although the city dipped into stereotypes I was able to ignore them and to bathe in that romance.

The romance and the stereotype of a place are two very different things. The romance of Venice involves the idea of love, adventure, risk and trust. It is courtship and sacrifice. It is dedication to your cultural past and current ideals. It is political engagement, slyness, and creativity. It is darkness, mystery, shadows and an ever changing world. In romance you meet a person on the streets and they show you a secret passage, inviting you into their existence. Or, in romance you don't meet anyone. You end up on a deserted dead-end path and wonder, briefly, where you go from there before caving to consult the map. At least that is my romance of Venice. My stereotype of Venice involves a typical stereotype of Italian males: arrogant, forward, constantly pressing for more, loud, and trustworthy only as long as you remain sober, with an added threat of pickpockets, irritation at foreigners, and touristic prices at every cafe in town.

I realize that neither my romance nor stereotype is founded in much. A book or two, a movie or series, and a few interactions is not really much to make a judgement on, which is why I am trying to refrain from judging and allow space for myself to be wrong. I want to be surprised, both in the thought that more than romance is possible and that stereotypes will not actually be met. At the same time I am curious as to where I constructed these two, slightly oppositional views, from the same material, and how I am able to keep them separate in my schema. What I have decided is that romance and stereotypes come from two different emotional places. Romance comes from hope and excitement. It comes from desire and is developed only through medium that allows a person a safe space to explore their desires and dreams, such as a one-way media experience including books and films. Stereotypes, on the other hand, come from a place of fear. They are formed through personal insecurities and awareness of weaknesses and are developed through bi-directional interactions that contain risk of threat or actual threat. So even though I have built my stereotypes and romance from one experience I am able to keep them separate because romance is everything that I deem good about a situation, and the stereotypes come from the threats and bad things. I am threatened by an aggressive male that might take advantage of me  physically or emotionally, and so he becomes a stereotype that I can protect myself against. However, I romance the same actions when portrayed by a male that might love and protect me, or offer safe, consensual adventures. That man becomes romanced.

An example: Night time on Saint Mark's Square. My friend and I arrived after nightfall, hoping to enjoy a bottle of wine and a snack. Two men approached us, trying to get our names and obviously trying to engage us for the evening in some form. According to my fearful, stereotypical telling of the story these were aggressive men and their intention was to either swindle us as tourists or to ply us with alcohol until we had sex with them, or something along those lines. According to my romantic telling this attention was very flattering and those men might have been the person that we were supposed to be with. My romantic telling saw much more, positive potentials from the same interaction. Romance allows you to take risks that stereotypes warn against. However, that night the stereotypical viewpoint was much stronger and we evaded the boys to continue on our own. My question then is WHY? What makes the stereotype triumph over romance?

Perhaps it is a cultural thing, or a sexist thing. Women live in constant fear. It isn't a gripping fear, or a disabling fear. Maybe to call it fear is wrong. Women live in an awareness. Women live in a land of possibility. Women have to be more aware of possibilities than men do, which makes us constantly evaluate situations, often basing our judgements and risks on our experience of romance or stereotypes. The higher the perceived risk in a situation, the more likely a woman defaults to he stereotypical view. If a situation is low-risk by being in an environment that she knows or with people that were introduced through someone that she trusts, then the woman is much more likely to default to her romantic view. This leads to women  romanticising assholes just because a good friend introduced them to us, or we met them at a burner event, and stereotyping potentially nice guys as creepers because they didn't have the right introduction.

I am not sure where I am going with these thoughts. I have only been to Venice once, after all. It isn't much to base anything on.

Monet on Boxing Day

The weather today reminded me of why I choose to come to Istanbul every Christmas. It was warm enough for a light sweater, bright and sunny, the sun reflecting off the water, mostly quiet, fishermen throwing lines into the bosphorous... okay, it isn't quite all weather, but it all contributes to the feeling of weather- to that ambiance that surrounds and permeates and is quite classically Istanbul. Scott and I took a minibus down to Istinye Bay, and then walked in the sunshine along the bosphorous down to the museum that is currently housing Monet. Now, I am not particularly big on art defined by fame, so I did not expect to think much of a museum collection of anyone, even Monet, but I figured that when an entire collection is in your city, and free to see, it is a shame to not at least put in the effort for a strolling gander. I was quite surprised by how much I actually enjoyed, not just the paintings, but the entire experience of viewing a museum collection.
My exposure to art is rather limited. I hate the snobbery of it, and the in/out group feeling it inspires reminds me too much of gender conflicts and the LGBTQ determination to be elitist in their out-styles. (I can say that, only because I am in the LGBTQ crowd, ostracized by the competition to be 'most gay.' But that is nothing new. What was new today was my fascination with the art. First of all, the gallery that we went to (ssm) was amazingly well set up. It is an old mansion that was dedicated to art by the owners, who specialized in calligraphy. The top floor is filled with antique, very lavish furniture and paintings, and the calligraphy sets. The basement houses Turkish work, and the middle floor was dedicated to Monet, including plenty of historical and personal information. They didn't have the full set, but most of it was there, including so many variations on water lilies. I skipped quickly through the first room, dedicated to portraiture, and moved into the second room, which had smaller and medium sized landscapes. Boats, water, trees, islands. The colors and the strokes on the paintings were fascinating. I developed a game of moving further away from the paintings to understand them, then  moving in close, and squinting until everything became shiny. It was fascinating. I never knew that impressionism worked like a magic-eye picture. Things popped and glowed and there were so many levels to each painting. I don't think that any of the reprints that I have seen have captured even half of what the paintings portray in real life.  By the second room I was already emotionally affected by the atmosphere and the art. In the third room there were his larger paintings. Some of them just popped and glowed with neon streaks of color that I didn't even imagine possible. I was enthralled. By the time I moved to the final room I was quite prepared for the beauty of the painting that most moved me. It bordered on a spiritual experience and I can honestly say that I was able to project and find myself in that painting, a flower bathed in yellow light, trailing my spirit freely with my partner by my side.
In the final area we talked about the repetition in his work and one of the most impressive things about the experience was actually the dialogue between the paintings. Any one picture, taken out if context, could not be as impressive as the leading story that we had been immersed in, for just a short hour.
This is the first time that I wish I could go back to a museum, for days and weeks, and lose myself and find myself over and over in these paintings. They were magnificent.