... methodologically innovative... precise and perceptive and conscious... " --Text and Performance Quarterly
Woman, Native, Other is located at the juncture of a number of different fields and disciplines, and it genuinely succeeds in pushing the boundaries of these disciplines further. It is one of the very few theoretical attempts to grapple with the writings of women of color." --Chandra Talpade Mohanty
The idea of Trinh T. Minh-ha is as powerful as her films... formidable... " --Village Voice
... its very forms invite the reader to participate in the effort to understand how language structures lived possibilities." --Artpaper
Highly recommended for anyone struggling to understand voices and experiences of those 'we' label 'other'." --Religious Studies Review
Trinh T. Minh-ha (born 1952) is a filmmaker, writer, academic and composer. She is an independent filmmaker and feminist, post-colonial theorist. She teaches courses that focus on women's work as related to cultural politics, post-coloniality, contemporary critical theory and the arts. The seminars she offers focus on Third cinema, film theory and aesthetics, the voice in cinema, the autobiographical voice, critical theory and research, cultural politics and feminist theory.[1] She has been making films for over twenty years and may be best known for her first film Reassemblage, made in 1982. She has received several awards and grants, including the American Film Institute’s National Independent Filmmaker Maya Deren Award, and Fellowships from the John Simon Guggenheim Foundation, the National Endowment for the Arts and the California Arts Council. Her films have been the subject of twenty retrospectives.
Had to read the first chapter for one of my classes: when it was time to discuss it in said class only one snide comment of "how am I supposed to get her point if I can't understand her writing" was needed to awaken a crowd of angry classmates with knives drawn, hungry for blood. I was taken completely aback—out of all possible critiques this is one I quite frankly hadn't expected, this is grad school, for heaven's sake!—and finally, admittedly feebly, offered up the remark that within the context Trinh is writing, her elliptical style makes perfect sense and is, in fact, perfectly clear (unfortunately, I doubt I was so clear when I actually made the remark—I think that may have been the first time I spoke in that class).
"But it is particularly difficult for a dualistic or dualistically trained mind to recognize that 'looking for the structure of narratives' already involves the separation of the structure from narratives, of the structure from which it is structured, of the narrative from the narrated, and so on."
It was a this point that I realized how deep my background in Second Wave feminist writing really is. The style of Native Woman Other immediately reminded me of the writings of Hélène Cixous, whose The Newly Born Woman is one of those revelational texts that kind of changed everything after; as I had remarked to a friend before that class, the section we read is basically a "who's-who" of feminist-minded writers and thinkers up to that time (including many personal favorites): not only the heavily-cited Cixous, but Woolf, Duras, de Beauvoir, Kristeva, Atwood, Plath, Nikki Giovanni, Alice Walker, Nin, and countless others (the ones I don't know I figure I need to now). The first chapter struck me as an attempt to encapsulate major Second Wave feminist thought, all the while adding in the issue of race with that of gender, making it a point of precedent for the Third Wave of feminism that would quickly follow.
One way or the other, I was definitely on board, and it was a fair bit of reactionary spite that galvanized my vague desire to finish the rest of the book. Now finished, I realize there wasn't much said that was particularly new to me—I've recently happened to do some reading that revolve around similar themes—but this is by far the most beautifully rendered and expressed of all of them. It's an eloquent attempt to carve into feminist and anthropological discourse the perspective of the other "Other," that is, the voices of women of color. Particularly illuminating is the final chapter that analyzes the essential role the woman-as-storyteller has played and continues to play in many cultures.
"Her words are like fire. They burn and destroy. It is, however, only by burning that they lighten. Destroying and saving, therefore, are here one single process. Not two processes posed in opposition or in conflict. They would like to order everything around hierarchical oppositions."
Trinh T. Minh-ha's writing is an embodied practice that is to say Min-ha writes from her specific standpoint position in society. Minh-ha argues that feminism needs to make room for cultural, racial, national, and gender differences. She, like many "intersectional" feminists, believes that carrying the "sign" of woman should not be used as a universal "sameness." Minh-ha contends that differences amongst individuals who identify feminists must make room to speak out against hegemonic power relations that are mimicked under the guise of feminism. More simply put, Minh-ha is specifically arguing against white feminists whose aims are to gain the power to "be equal to men." Minh-ha asserts that this logic/aim only re-iterates white colonialist structures that seek to marginalize individuals over racial, sexual, and other gender differences. For Minh-ha, feminism is against oppression and should be a liberating force for all and not some. Additionally, Minh-ha argues that we should not be afraid to speak out against white feminists who re-appropriate the dialogue, performative tacts and speech acts of the colonizer in the name of feminism.
Beautifully written. It took me a little while to get the hang of her writing style, but once I did, I truly appreciated her creative and unique prose.
based based based based based based and if you disagree you are mistaking the hand that points to the moon for the moon itself. a story isn’t either factual or nonfactual, it’s woven engagements belie the belly of truth, not the truth. the stories change when told and are still what is passed on, they must be told correctly, don’t you know?
Wow. This book was absolutely incredible and I know it will prove to be formative in my future writing and academic work :) Minh-ha's distinctly antidisciplinary approach to writing is beautiful and delightfuLly challenging to read. Her careful practice of weaving in and out of poetry and theory to prose and images established a elegant fluidity within her work. I loved that I would often find myself rereading certain passages or pages and finding an entirely new meaning that I hadn't gained the first time around. Her style of veiling and unveiling left me continually working to read between the lines and look for meaning and truth "between all regimes of truth." I reallllly loved it <3
Published in 1989, Minh-ha's attempt to spotlight -- what would later be called intersectionality -- of women, Othering, and women writers faced with the normative Othering of being female and the narrative of what being female constitutes is bold for its time. In fact, Minh-ha focuses on some key issues related to Women and writing: the forms of writing are male-centred and any woman who wishes to be seen as a Writer must accommodate by erasing the feminitity of their writing (read: their own perspective with regards to their experiences in the world). The claims that male and female experiences differ, are not new, even at this time, but by highlighting that to compete means to adopt language that perpetuate a male vision, is precisely the challenge women writers face.
What's challenging about Minh-ha's Woman, Native, Other is not the ideas she presents but in the way she presents it. Always a section will begin with several assertions that sound logical but then Minh-ha, instead of grounding her theories with evidence or logical arguments, descends into rhetoric to buttress her claims; i.e. rhetorical questions, circumlocution, chiasmus, hyperbole, hypophora, metonymy, etc., etc. What's even more worrisome is, in an attempt to express the myriad Others (women in all her multifaceted amalgamations), Minh-ha imbues her narrative as speaking for and on behalf of them! Free and indirect speech is great in literature; offensive in non-fiction, no matter what the gender of the speaker. Her strategy appears to be contend through insistence, to argue through persuasive writing through persuasion of language, which is ironic because the very forms she's using are the forms men use to negate and silence women and Others.
Ultimately, Women, Native, Other is bold but it languishes in its own self-absorption and self-importance without much more than a fairly well-turned phrase to incite engagement.
I loved this book. Minh-ha has a wonderfully engaging writing style that both makes the reader feel as though they're part of a discussion and challenges them to answer questions she brings forth. This book is particularly helpful for anyone who has a strong interest in post-colonialism and would like an entry point into writing within that framework. Minh-ha presents a well researched narrative that is illuminating in how contemporary it is, but also humbling and appreciative of her predecessors' work(s).
What. A. Book. Necessary reading for all, especially those looking to understand intersectionality to a greater extent.
Although the style of writing is a bit difficult to get used to (quotes and I/i etc are frequent), perseverance leads to experiencing a really wonderful and interesting book.
Breaks literary boundaries and expectations. Delight, whimsy, philosophy for those who don't care what others think. Womanist narrative par excellence.
Je ne connaissais pas Minh-ha avant de me lancer dans ce livre. Je l'avais seulement vue référencée dans quelques articles féministes de sociologie. Moi qui pensait me lancer dans une lecture théorique sur le féminisme postcolonial et sur l'intersectionnalité, j'ai été agréablement surprise par l'écriture si poétique de l'autrice, par ses développements si rafraîchissants sur l'acte d'écriture, l'acte de faire récit, sur l'identité et sur l'altérité.
Le troisième chapitre propose une réflexion sur la différence (sexuelle, raciale...) tellement enrichissante, surtout à une époque où la mode est à la revendication de l'altérité et de la marginalisation de notre identité par rapport à une pensée dominante. Plutôt que de continuer à parler dans le langage « eux/elles-nous », qui favorise l'exclusion, Minh-ha propose de s'attaquer à la racine du problème, c'est-à-dire aux processus même de différenciation produits par les divers systèmes d'oppression. Construire son identité en accentuant les différences - précisément produites par le patriarcat, l'idéologie raciste, la pensée occidentale, etc. - consiste finalement à accepter les catégories que ces systèmes imposent. Pour le dire aussi simplement et poétiquement que Minh-ha : « Difference undermines the very idea of identity. » En cela, Minh-ha se rapproche du féminisme matérialiste puisque, pour elle, la construction de la différence est aussi celle de la domination. Elle remet en cause l’idéologie « white-male-is-norm » qui produit et entretient l'altérité - et l'homogénéité - des catégories « femme » et « femme de couleur ».
La critique de ce système de pensée dualiste permet alors à Minh-ha de déconstruire l'identité et la subjectivité en tant que différences : « Whether I accept it or not, the natures of I, i, you, s/he, We, we, they, and wo/man constantly overlap. They all display a necessary ambivalence, for the line dividing I and Not-i, us and them, or him and her is not (cannot) always (be) as clear as we would like it to be. Despite our desperate, eternal attempt to separate, contain, and mend, categories always leak. » Le refus d'un hermétisme identitaire et la valorisation d'une présence multiple rejoignent les réflexions énoncées au premier chapitre quant à la subjectivité dans le texte littéraire, qu'on associe trop souvent exclusivement avec l'individu l'ayant écrit. Minh-ha rappelle que le texte (et le récit) ne fonctionnent que par leur circulation, et que l'écriture et la lecture ne peuvent pas dévoiler l'identité comprise comme individualité : « For writing, like a game that defies its own rules, is an ongoing practice that may be said to be concerned, not with inserting a "me" into language, but with creating an opening where the "me" disappears while "I" endlessly come and go, as the nature of language requires. »
L'écriture et l'énonciation, tout comme la lecture et l'écoute, sont des pratiques constitutives d'une identité et d'une conscience collective, puisqu'elles permettent de transmettre et de préserver une mémoire parfois oubliée, tue, ou simplement considérée comme étant « juste » une histoire. « Perhaps the story has become just a story when I have become adept at consuming truth as fact. Imagination is thus equated with falsification, and I am made to believe that if, accordingly, I am not told or do not establish in so many words what is true and what is false, I or the listener may no longer be able to differentiate fancy from fact (sic). »
En remettant en question l’idée communément admise qu’« une histoire n’est qu’une histoire », Minh-ha réexamine, dans le dernier chapitre, l’importance du récit dans l'édification d'une conscience historique collective. Le récit, accusé de n'être que mensonge, fabulation, imagination, n'est pas préoccupé par sa véracité puisque son rôle n'est pas de distinguer le factuel du fictionnel, mais bien d'expérimenter le monde, d'en faire voir différentes visions, de le réactualiser. L'acte de faire récit - un rôle par ailleurs souvent endossé par les femmes -, est essentiel dans la mesure où, indépendamment de la véracité de l'histoire, son effet le transcende : il implique de faire communauté, de continuer à créer et à le raconter à nouveau pour le faire vivre : « The story depends upon every one of us to come into being. It needs us all, needs our remembering, understanding, and creating what we have heard together to keep on coming into being. »
Ces propositions font bouillonner mes propres lectures des fictions qui relatent les violences coloniales et patriarcales perpétrées dans les Amériques : la lecture et la réactualisation de ces textes est une façon de les garder vivants, de préserver et de transmettre les mémoires fragiles, mais ô combien riches, que la littérature occulte et dévoile sans cesse dans la difficile nécessité de dire.
The book ends with a beautiful bedtime story by Mitsuye Yamada: "Once upon a time, an old Japanese legend goes as told by Papa, an old woman traveled through many small villages seeking refuge for the night. Each door opened a sliver in answer to her knock then closed. Unable to walk any further she wearily climbed a hill found a clearing and there lay down to rest a few moments to catch her breath. The villagetown below lay asleep except for a few starlike lights. Suddenly the clouds opened and a full moon came into view over the town. The old woman sat up turned toward the village town and in supplication called out Thank you people of the village, if it had not been for your kindness in refusing me a bed for the night these humble eyes would never have seen this memorable sight. Papa paused, I waited. In the comfort of our hilltop home in Seattle overlooking the valley, I shouted "That's the END?"
I’ll start by saying that this was the first time for me engaging with a literary theory book. I had to read it twice to get a grasp of the content, but I feel that I am still missing much of the content as there isn’t a unitary narrative but each chapter can be considered a mini-essay made of other mini-essays. Overall, I really appreciated the alternation between theory, the author’s words, pieces of poetry and images. It helped me understand how theory is intrinsic in everyday life and that it can’t be separated from other disciples. The book was written a long time ago but I think many points raised are still valid and sadly not much as changed-there still is much more activism to be done.
Mostly nonsensical waffle. I can appreciate that the author is trying to do something different and that we need not have structure or direction to be a good book or ‘story’ but most of it was just ridiculous to read. Occasionally insightful with a postcolonial reflection, the rest was just jargon and waffle that didn’t say anything.
To me it read like an even more exaggerated version of Spivak. At least spivak had some historical grounding and direction in her book, most pages in Minh-Ha’s book I couldn’t even tell you what she was talking about. Vague generalisations, jargon and waffle made it a difficult read even though I wanted to like it due to the authors important postcolonial feminist position.
A really important book, Trinh T. Minh-ha brings together theory especially feminist theory, post colonialism, story-telling and literature by Women of Colour from writers such as Audre Lorde, Theresa Hak Kyung Cha, Mitsuye Yamada and Leslie Mormon Silko exploring identity and the experiences of women and their resistance to patriarchal rules. Minh-ha challenges grand narratives of western sciences like Anthropology and how it portrayed the other. As a filmmaker, Minh-ha includes stills accompanied with quotes from her films. I should also add that her writing flows beautifully throughout the book!
assigned reading in an anthro class I took back in the day…discussions around orientalism and the Other. Important theoretical points by Min Ha from a feminist post colonial analysis. Her writing style is quite the whirlwind…but lots of nuggets on what it means to write ethnographically. I always had an interest in cultural anthropology so this is something to reference in the field!
I enjoyed this book. I am usually a fan of philosophical texts like this especially coming from women of color. I would recommend it to anyone interested in anthropology. I did a first draft of some notes here and plan to give it another read: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1g...
“Touch me and let me touch you, for the private is political. Language wavers with desire. It is the language of my entrails, a skin with which I caress and feel the other, a body capable of receiving as well as giving: nurturing and procreating“.
Another reviewer posted the following as a negative review: "no words". I feel the same, but change it to a non-negative; this text is in the realm of my own not understanding, but there is strength in the words that I am not sure I understand. Is this poetry, a novel, literary criticism...maybe it is all of that, as a story, an important one.
This is quite a scattered text, and although it revolves around the same ideas it is structurally disjointed. Its wit and at times attacking qualities make it a solid performative work, but its content is lacking in a way that I can not pinpoint. One is face to face with a constructed binarism (thinking Sedgwick here) where the "other" is made into an "another" by "difference". Minh-ha criticises the "white male anthropologist", in that he wants to gain knowledge about "the other" which he makes into an "other" for the practical aim of finding a hidden truth for his own being, his "roots". "The Nature of the non-Western World", "The Savage Mind", "How Natives Think"... He has a mastery of his "subjects" and claims to maintain scientific objectivity, but he is acting out with the deeply rooted "burden" of being a "white man". The third world subject is now encouraged to assert his/her difference and customs as long as (s)he stays within his/her assigned limits. They want to find the "true native", the "real" and "unspoiled" subject. "A Japanese actually looks more Japanese in American than in Japan, but the 'real' type of Japanism ought to be in Japan" (84). Other things discussed in this book: - a third world woman writer, criticisms either ignore the facts or overemphasize her racial and sexual attributes; she's forced to think of herself in terms of differentiation (Spivak: "You can't not speak from a place.") - writing for the third world writer becomes a means for educating the less fortunate; trying to overcome the "guilt" of being privileged. art for the masses, art by the masses, art from the masses. - sexism in language - truth/fact vs. story telling/oral history
A question that comes to mind while reading this book: If the writerly qualities are perceived as male and a good female writer was complimented on how she "wrote like a man", then how is it that discourse around creativity centralises it as a feminine quality (the stereotyping of queer identity as creative)?