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ARCHAEOLOGY OF PERSONALITIES: a linguistic approach to erotic rope bondage
In "Archaeology of Personalities", the author tries to fill the gap of a philosophical interpretation of erotic rope bondage. Starting from the vague perspective of bondage as some kind of communication, the study develops step by step a broad basis for an understanding of the power structures with a specific communication discourse. By deconstructing the contexts it ends up at erotic rope bondage being described through the metaphor of an interview. This image not only helps understanding existing ways of practicing erotic rope bondage but it enables to use erotic rope bondage itself as a tool for exploring each others personalities. The book also contains some personal approaches of Georg Barkas to the world of erotic rope bondage. He himself dedicated his life to Kinbaku, to practice it, to teach it and to celebrate it as something that is at once eroticism, art, engineering, and impactful human interaction. Georg Barkas holds a master’s degree in mathematical physics, and pursued a PhD in history and philosophy of science in Vienna and Berlin. His research was and is strongly influenced by the French poststructuralist movement. In 2014, Barkas quit academia to become a professional rope bondage artist and educator. Here he applies his academic history and curiosity to rope bondage.
- GenresBDSM
122 pages, Kindle Edition
Published May 4, 2017
28 people are currently reading
90 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews
August 21, 2017
Being interested in both linguistics and Kinbaku, or Japanese rope bondage (but a practitioner of neither), this book definitely piqued my interest. Though not quite what I was expecting—though truthfully, I wasn’t sure what to expect—I am certainly glad to have found it, glad that someone out there with the knowledge to do so has written it.
Barkas knows his subject and his arguments very well, and this book, though short, is really a Master Class in the theory and practice of tying someone up—though not the practice you might be thinking of. His concern here is not the technical lessons of rope bondage—the knots, the safety—but communication. There are plenty of excellent practical guides to Japanese rope bondage out there. Consider those the required readings for a Bachelor’s Degree; consider this slim volume a guided seminar for grad students.
It goes without saying that communication is absolutely vital in a practice with as much risk, both physical and emotional, as erotic rope bondage. Things can go so horribly wrong in so many ways—and often do, especially with beginners. But the required communication within an activity that also involves serious power exchange has unique qualities. It’s much more than just checking on how the tied person is feeling through the scene. It is a complex interplay of signs and signals—the feedback, the evolving procession—between two participants of a tying scene that this book is concerned with.
Kinbaku has its own language to be learned, its internal terms and signifiers, and this book is an exploration of how that language works, and why the proper understanding of it is so vital to its practice—and why it ends up being more of a philosophical tract than merely an exploration of its linguistics proper. It is an ethical system.
A Kinbaku scene is a conversation, and Barkas uses the metaphor of an interview to illustrate how this conversation proceeds. Because of the power dynamics inherent in rope bondage—the application of control and restraint from human being onto another—a scene cannot be depicted as a balanced, two-way conversation, especially during the tying scene. It relies on signals, often very subtle, usually unspoken. Attention is vital: the stiffening of posture in reaction to a tie; the curling of toes. Breathing, slowing down or speeding up. Resistance to a guided motion, or perhaps too much acquiescence, which can be a form of taking control, topping from below. This conversation must be mutual, but it must be guided—an *interview*.
One of Barkas’s points is that there is also a constant communication across the three stages of a scene—before (mostly negotiations); during (one person tying the other up); and after, or after-care as it’s commonly called. In Barkas’s eyes, there are not three separated units of communication, but one long one—though it does of course go through different stages. And all three can be as memorable to the participants as the actual tying.
I liked the odd title of this book because it concisely sums up what Mr. Barkas is after in his devotion to Kinbaku, his pursuit not just of the craft (and the fun!) but of its far deeper meanings. It isn’t about the ropes themselves, nor necessarily, the skin beneath them. It’s a concern with learning about that particular person that he is tying, as an individual, through the shared experience of one personality, with her or his own history of life experiences, letting another tie them up.
Unfamiliar as I am with Kinbaku, on a personal level at least, I found this short book fascinating, both in its intellectual approach, and in what it all leads to, boils down to: the emotional experience. This book fills a unique and much-needed niche.
Barkas knows his subject and his arguments very well, and this book, though short, is really a Master Class in the theory and practice of tying someone up—though not the practice you might be thinking of. His concern here is not the technical lessons of rope bondage—the knots, the safety—but communication. There are plenty of excellent practical guides to Japanese rope bondage out there. Consider those the required readings for a Bachelor’s Degree; consider this slim volume a guided seminar for grad students.
It goes without saying that communication is absolutely vital in a practice with as much risk, both physical and emotional, as erotic rope bondage. Things can go so horribly wrong in so many ways—and often do, especially with beginners. But the required communication within an activity that also involves serious power exchange has unique qualities. It’s much more than just checking on how the tied person is feeling through the scene. It is a complex interplay of signs and signals—the feedback, the evolving procession—between two participants of a tying scene that this book is concerned with.
Kinbaku has its own language to be learned, its internal terms and signifiers, and this book is an exploration of how that language works, and why the proper understanding of it is so vital to its practice—and why it ends up being more of a philosophical tract than merely an exploration of its linguistics proper. It is an ethical system.
A Kinbaku scene is a conversation, and Barkas uses the metaphor of an interview to illustrate how this conversation proceeds. Because of the power dynamics inherent in rope bondage—the application of control and restraint from human being onto another—a scene cannot be depicted as a balanced, two-way conversation, especially during the tying scene. It relies on signals, often very subtle, usually unspoken. Attention is vital: the stiffening of posture in reaction to a tie; the curling of toes. Breathing, slowing down or speeding up. Resistance to a guided motion, or perhaps too much acquiescence, which can be a form of taking control, topping from below. This conversation must be mutual, but it must be guided—an *interview*.
One of Barkas’s points is that there is also a constant communication across the three stages of a scene—before (mostly negotiations); during (one person tying the other up); and after, or after-care as it’s commonly called. In Barkas’s eyes, there are not three separated units of communication, but one long one—though it does of course go through different stages. And all three can be as memorable to the participants as the actual tying.
I liked the odd title of this book because it concisely sums up what Mr. Barkas is after in his devotion to Kinbaku, his pursuit not just of the craft (and the fun!) but of its far deeper meanings. It isn’t about the ropes themselves, nor necessarily, the skin beneath them. It’s a concern with learning about that particular person that he is tying, as an individual, through the shared experience of one personality, with her or his own history of life experiences, letting another tie them up.
Unfamiliar as I am with Kinbaku, on a personal level at least, I found this short book fascinating, both in its intellectual approach, and in what it all leads to, boils down to: the emotional experience. This book fills a unique and much-needed niche.
January 7, 2023
I love this book. Anyone who wants to think more deeply about their relationships in any situation should read it as it is applicable to so much of life. I love rope play and the approach here is so sincere and well-thought-out that it makes for a thought-provoking read
March 4, 2024
Mi spiace essere così severo nel giudizio ma il libro non ha per niente centrato il punto; parla in maniera estremamente generica di comunicazione.
Oltre a questo ci sono anche alcuni refusi che sicuramente non hanno aiutato la valutazione finale.
Oltre a questo ci sono anche alcuni refusi che sicuramente non hanno aiutato la valutazione finale.
October 27, 2017
Talking about linguistic. This is really a good read about language, understanding and intent.
August 24, 2019
Exactly What I Needed
I am in that moment, attempting to turn craft to art. A conversation. Yes! Exactly this! I’m straining to hear
I am in that moment, attempting to turn craft to art. A conversation. Yes! Exactly this! I’m straining to hear
December 29, 2022
I’d never understood what attracted anyone to rope bondage, or what about the experience could feel erotic. This book’s deep dive into the philosophy changed everything for me.
January 12, 2023
Reading this book helped me to explain to myself and understand my attraction for kinbaku. A must read for people who like ropes, and with a strong interest in nonverbal communication.
August 21, 2017
Being interested in both linguistics and Kinbaku, or Japanese rope bondage (but a practitioner of neither), this book definitely piqued my interest. Though not quite what I was expecting—though truthfully, I wasn’t sure what to expect—I am certainly glad to have found it, glad that someone out there with the knowledge to do so has written it.
Barkas knows his subject and his arguments very well, and this book, though short, is really a Master Class in the theory and practice of tying someone up—though not the practice you might be thinking of. His concern here is not the technical lessons of rope bondage—the knots, the safety—but communication. There are plenty of excellent practical guides to Japanese rope bondage out there. Consider those the required readings for a Bachelor’s Degree; consider this slim volume a guided seminar for grad students.
It goes without saying that communication is absolutely vital in a practice with as much risk, both physical and emotional, as erotic rope bondage. Things can go so horribly wrong in so many ways—and often do, especially with beginners. But the required communication within an activity that also involves serious power exchange has unique qualities. It’s much more than just checking on how the tied person is feeling through the scene. It is a complex interplay of signs and signals—the feedback, the evolving procession—between two participants of a tying scene that this book is concerned with.
Kinbaku has its own language to be learned, its internal terms and signifiers, and this book is an exploration of how that language works, and why the proper understanding of it is so vital to its practice—and why it ends up being more of a philosophical tract than merely an exploration of its linguistics proper. It is an ethical system.
A Kinbaku scene is a conversation, and Barkas uses the metaphor of an interview to illustrate how this conversation proceeds. Because of the power dynamics inherent in rope bondage—the application of control and restraint from human being onto another—a scene cannot be depicted as a balanced, two-way conversation, especially during the tying scene. It relies on signals, often very subtle, usually unspoken. Attention is vital: the stiffening of posture in reaction to a tie; the curling of toes. Breathing, slowing down or speeding up. Resistance to a guided motion, or perhaps too much acquiescence, which can be a form of taking control, topping from below. This conversation must be mutual, but it must be guided—an *interview*.
One of Barkas’s points is that there is also a constant communication across the three stages of a scene—before (mostly negotiations); during (one person tying the other up); and after, or after-care as it’s commonly called. In Barkas’s eyes, there are not three separated units of communication, but one long one—though it does of course go through different stages. And all three can be as memorable to the participants as the actual tying.
I liked the odd title of this book because it concisely sums up what Mr. Barkas is after in his devotion to Kinbaku, his pursuit not just of the craft (and the fun!) but of its far deeper meanings. It isn’t about the ropes themselves, nor necessarily, the skin beneath them. It’s a concern with learning about that particular person that he is tying, as an individual, through the shared experience of one personality, with her or his own history of life experiences, letting another tie them up.
I will say that I wish a *slight* bit more attention had been paid to the internal design of the paperback. Certain chapter headings appear at the very bottom of the right hand page when they would have looked so much better at the top of the next; it's as if the ebook file were simply uploaded without previous examination. But do NOT let this dissuade you from the excellent content within. I also quite like the cover design, btw; I'm glad to have this on my bookshelf next to other intelligent inquiries into very kinky behaviors.
Unfamiliar as I am with Kinbaku, on a personal level at least, I found this short book fascinating, both in its intellectual approach, and in what it all leads to, boils down to: the emotional experience. This book fills a unique and much-needed niche.
Barkas knows his subject and his arguments very well, and this book, though short, is really a Master Class in the theory and practice of tying someone up—though not the practice you might be thinking of. His concern here is not the technical lessons of rope bondage—the knots, the safety—but communication. There are plenty of excellent practical guides to Japanese rope bondage out there. Consider those the required readings for a Bachelor’s Degree; consider this slim volume a guided seminar for grad students.
It goes without saying that communication is absolutely vital in a practice with as much risk, both physical and emotional, as erotic rope bondage. Things can go so horribly wrong in so many ways—and often do, especially with beginners. But the required communication within an activity that also involves serious power exchange has unique qualities. It’s much more than just checking on how the tied person is feeling through the scene. It is a complex interplay of signs and signals—the feedback, the evolving procession—between two participants of a tying scene that this book is concerned with.
Kinbaku has its own language to be learned, its internal terms and signifiers, and this book is an exploration of how that language works, and why the proper understanding of it is so vital to its practice—and why it ends up being more of a philosophical tract than merely an exploration of its linguistics proper. It is an ethical system.
A Kinbaku scene is a conversation, and Barkas uses the metaphor of an interview to illustrate how this conversation proceeds. Because of the power dynamics inherent in rope bondage—the application of control and restraint from human being onto another—a scene cannot be depicted as a balanced, two-way conversation, especially during the tying scene. It relies on signals, often very subtle, usually unspoken. Attention is vital: the stiffening of posture in reaction to a tie; the curling of toes. Breathing, slowing down or speeding up. Resistance to a guided motion, or perhaps too much acquiescence, which can be a form of taking control, topping from below. This conversation must be mutual, but it must be guided—an *interview*.
One of Barkas’s points is that there is also a constant communication across the three stages of a scene—before (mostly negotiations); during (one person tying the other up); and after, or after-care as it’s commonly called. In Barkas’s eyes, there are not three separated units of communication, but one long one—though it does of course go through different stages. And all three can be as memorable to the participants as the actual tying.
I liked the odd title of this book because it concisely sums up what Mr. Barkas is after in his devotion to Kinbaku, his pursuit not just of the craft (and the fun!) but of its far deeper meanings. It isn’t about the ropes themselves, nor necessarily, the skin beneath them. It’s a concern with learning about that particular person that he is tying, as an individual, through the shared experience of one personality, with her or his own history of life experiences, letting another tie them up.
I will say that I wish a *slight* bit more attention had been paid to the internal design of the paperback. Certain chapter headings appear at the very bottom of the right hand page when they would have looked so much better at the top of the next; it's as if the ebook file were simply uploaded without previous examination. But do NOT let this dissuade you from the excellent content within. I also quite like the cover design, btw; I'm glad to have this on my bookshelf next to other intelligent inquiries into very kinky behaviors.
Unfamiliar as I am with Kinbaku, on a personal level at least, I found this short book fascinating, both in its intellectual approach, and in what it all leads to, boils down to: the emotional experience. This book fills a unique and much-needed niche.
Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews