The voice heads straightaway toward
(Oh,
Voice)
Its
Non-tolerated, Ardent Closing Off
language. In doing so, it need not be stopped because it lingers
already. Surely, it has to reside somewhere. It stays in the gorge where
it meets language, and together they march yet again through the throat
into the world. Language is not aware of this, since language is only
interested in what it has to say. The voice says. The voice says itself.
It does not recite anything, and it does not narrate itself. In this endeavor,
the inanimate, a fetish?, an apparatus, light, which should illuminate
the voice, and something that should contain speech, is inserted through
the nose into the larynx, so that we - through this revealing act, because
the light illuminates what emerges during speaking (except we wouldn't
need a light to simply hear) - can look inside. We can look inside, and
something is coming out. We see where it is coming from. The woman's organs
do not represent her, they can't, however this speech-act can do so by
revealing its source, the voice.
From
the woman, we see: nothing, we look into her, but we see the nothing,
we look at the nothing that has to represent itself because no one else
does. This nothing that is the woman - who is said to be incapable of
representation, she is hidden in many cultures which actually is superfluous
because from the beginning of time she has been nothing, so why still
conceal a nothing? - is made accessible through this passageway in her
body, not a pathway where we stand around or take a leisurely stroll,
through a passageway into this hole where we still can't see anything
because the woman by means of this drafty passage, through which only
her voice reverberates, is not transformed into a something.
We
can spread her opening to better see the nothing in the hole, however
there won't be anything if we don't first project something into it. The
woman can be everything, but ultimately only she delivers herself into
her own self, whenever she speaks, whenever she speaks to the outside,
whenever she signs herself into the memo-book that is not designed for
a particular person, already assigned from the start, then reduced and
finally retired. The last one carries himself out, when he leaves this
room which is the nothing. Therefore: No one leaves the room! That is
why the last one did not remain there for long. Just as this voice, which
does not come from nothing, yet wherever it originates we only see to
some extent, we sense much more than we can view. No, on the contrary,
at Valie Export's we not only see the voice, we essentially come upon
it at its source. The throat is illuminated, the image is projected from
the laryngoscope onto the screen, which does not protect anyone.
We
must, in an act of fetishization, that is the incorporation of inanimate
into animate matter, use the other entrance of the woman, or nonetheless
the one, the front entrance? (That she has in common with the man, which
does not mean that both may use the same entrance, yet the voice that
obviously asserts itself in that it's simply making noise, on the other
hand that's not a matter of course, the speaking of woman is not heard,
it isn't heard in public since it's uncomfortable, it sounds shrill, we
aren't used to it, she would need an apparatus, the woman, to dampen her
voice a bit, which creates an obstacle for speaking, an obviation of speaking
that is forbidden to her, namely this voice is unwelcome. What is more:
It destroys wishes. An inverted castration since for this speaking, nothing
is cut off and then sewn shut, rather something is attached which constitutes
even more of an obstacle. Therefore, it echoes even louder from all corners
and niches of the household because there, the man has to listen to it,
otherwise it'll be hell on earth for him, he has even more reason to fear
the woman at home the more he forbids her to speak in public), no matter
where one enters or which hole is being used, through which something
could crawl: We have to mark the entrance, otherwise we can't find and
frequent it. Above the entrance, the sign must read: Exit.
What
an effort that speaking makes, and above all, in this video that has been
made for viewing from the outside! In Valie Export's video the innermost
turns inside out. It can't do that alone, that has to be forced. The voice
must come out of the larynx that is put on display. This is done with
an apparatus. What an effort then to eject the voice! This effort is required
mainly for things and creatures that shouldn't be released. Wild animals?
The voice is the wild animal that should not reach the outside world,
but here the effort is essential for the eruption. For the exploding voice-vulcano.
This voice is not mute. This voice is supposed to be restrained by an
apparatus so that it can be studied, so that we can observe the vocal
chords doing their job, but suddenly it forces its way toward the exit
into an opening that refuses to open up. The outside is here, please,
voice, come! Well, it can always come but only through this tiny apparatus,
which exposes the vocal labia surrounded by swirling saliva and fluids
that are the only means of representation for woman. Something liquid
that we rarely get to see (the more curious we are! Immediately, we want
to look into it. Please - go ahead!), via the laryngoscope, the voice
obtains its consciousness und can arrive at relevant propositions while
the voice itself: says.
The
larynx is the coming-out, actually the letting-come-out, yes, that is
for what it is here, it let's out what should have been locked up, the
voice, in a language that someone, that anyone must understand, yes, must!,
otherwise it's not a language, and then the voice would be useless, therefore
come on out, language! From the constant closing off: out and about! The
protection must be left behind, but then it, the voice, runs in front
of the marksman's rifle. One has to be driven from one's shelter, when
one is voice, even if one needs an apparatus to do so, which, just like
the beaters bang on the bush, separates the voice from its home, the throat,
and chases it out. It must be forced to do something, the voice, which
it enjoys doing anyhow. That is the biggest effort: To do something that
is allowed, yet in its essence, it is separated from the world. That is
it that now cleaves its path before it disappears completely.

Valie
Export, I turn over the pictures of my voice in my head
Rendered into English by Margarete Lamb-Faffelberger
30.3.2009
The voice heads straightaway toward © 2009 Elfriede Jelinek

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