de genere - Rivista di studi letterari, postcoloniali e di genere https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere <p><span style="font-size: medium;">La rivista scientifica online ad accesso libero <em>de genere</em> intende proporsi come un luogo in cui la ricerca interdisciplinare sugli studi di genere e sugli studi post-coloniali possa trovare spazio e confrontarsi attraverso un ampio dibattito critico. Attraverso numeri monotematici a cadenza annuale, si vogliono tracciare i percorsi della ricerca scientifica intorno ai "generi", intesi nella piena ambiguità semantica del "genere/gender" e delle forme stilistiche e mediatiche della letteratura e delle arti, per mapparne e indagarne le trasformazioni dovute all'ingresso di soggetti "imprevisti" dalla modernità occidentale.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><em>de genere</em>, è, <span>rivista di classe A per i settori 10/L1 (Anglistica e Angloamericanistica) e 10/F4 (Critica letteraria e letterature comparate), e</span>, rivista scientifica per l'<span>Area 10 - Scienze dell'antichita', filologico-letterarie e storico-artistiche</span>.<br /></span></p> it-IT <p>L'autore dichiara di essere unico proprietario del contributo e concede alla rivista <em>de genere </em>il diritto a pubblicare la suddetta opera. E' a conoscenza e accetta che la rivista, <em>de genere</em> diffonda il suddetto contributo e i suoi contenuti, sotto forma di testi, immagini, altro formato elettronico o altri formati/media che possano esistere oggi o che potrebbero essere scoperti in futuro, ad utenti finali in edizione elettronica come file in formato pdf, ePub, MOBI e simili, ivi comprese app di store proprietari quali GooglePlay e AppleStore. E' altresì a conoscenza e accetta che la rivista, <em>de genere</em> possa attivare sistemi di Print On Demand (Stampa su Richiesta) del contributo in oggetto.</p> <p>L'autore è altresì a conoscenza che ciò non impedisce di pubblicare autonomamente, in maniera cartacea o elettronica, il contributo in oggetto, con menzione della rivista come prima collocazione del contributo.</p> <p>Il consenso a pubblicare è concesso alla rivista, <em>de genere</em> a titolo gratuito.</p> <p><a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/" rel="license"><img style="border-width: 0;" src="https://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/4.0/88x31.png" alt="Licenza Creative Commons" /></a><br /><em>de genere</em> è distribuita con Licenza <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/" rel="license">Creative Commons Attribuzione - Non commerciale - Non opere derivate 4.0 Internazionale</a>.</p> degenere.journal@gmail.com (de genere) degenere.journal@gmail.com (de genere) Thu, 31 Dec 2020 00:00:00 +0100 OJS 3.3.0.5 http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss 60 La provincia italiana e l’eredità degli anni Ottanta in Andrea Demarchi https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/145 Andrea Palermo Copyright (c) 2020 Andrea Palermo https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/145 Thu, 31 Dec 2020 00:00:00 +0100 The Last (Resort) of England. Melancholy, Delusion and Disillusion in the Mid-Eighties https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/132 <p class="Testo"><span lang="EN-GB">In 1986, the photographer Martin Parr published <em>The Last Resort</em>, a controversial collection of shots taken at the popular beach of New Brighton. At the time, the book caused a great upheaval: Parr’s view of the working-class holidaymakers was considered too grotesque, sarcastic, and patronising. Only much later did critics realize that those photos were the expression of Parr’s anger about Thatcher’s social politics and her neglect of the proletarians’ needs. Starting from Parr’s images, I will analyse some British cultural products of the same period that reflect a similar sense of melancholy, desolation, and disillusion, often under an ostensible use of irony, parody and/or black humour. First, I will retrace this mid-Eighties Zeitgeist in works that appeared the year before Parr’s collection (the films <em>My Beautiful Laundrette</em> and <em>Brazil</em>, respectively by Stephen Frears and Terry Gilliam, and the album <em>This Is the Sea</em>, by the Waterboys). Then, I will refer to the Smiths’ album significantly called <em>The Queen Is Dead</em>, which appeared the same year as Parr’s photos.</span></p> Silvia Albertazzi Copyright (c) 2020 Silvia Albertazzi https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/132 Thu, 03 Dec 2020 00:00:00 +0100 "The Damned Don’t Cry": Melancholia and White British Masculinity in 1980s Synthpop Music https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/136 <p class="Testo"><span lang="EN-GB">In "Mourning and Melancholia," Freud describes the primary symptoms of melancholia as "a profoundly painful dejection, cessation of interest in the outside world, loss of the capacity of love, inhibition of all activity, and a lowering of the self-regarding feelings." This is also a fairly accurate description of early 1980s synthpop music, which was full of white male British singers who maintained a numbed affect as they performed lyrics about loss, inaction, and inability.</span></p><p class="Testo"><span lang="EN-GB">Although some critics have derided this music as unemotional, this article explores how 1980s synthpop songs dramatize a kind of self-splitting, wherein the intense affect of grieving is displaced onto women and machines, while the singer maintains his impassive melancholy. Examining such popular acts as Blancmange, Thomas Dolby, A Flock of Seagulls, Ultravox, and Visage, it analyses both the songs themselves and their accompanying music videos to examine the performance of masculinity within them.</span></p><p class="Testo"><span lang="EN-GB">Drawing from Derrida’s work on hauntology, it also considers how 1980s UK </span><span lang="EN-US">synthpop performers were both haunted by Britain’s past and frightened that it may have no future. Enacting a repressed affect"”the so-called "stiff upper lip""”that had served middle-class white men well in Britain’s imperial glory days but served little purpose by the 1980s, these singers dramatize the dilemma of not knowing how to develop alternative modes of sensitive yet emotionally direct masculinity.</span></p> Mica Hilson Copyright (c) 2020 Mica Hilson https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/136 Fri, 04 Dec 2020 00:00:00 +0100 "Who Wants to Live Forever?" Andrew Holleran, Garth Greenwell, and The Gayest Decade That Never Ended https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/135 <p class="Testo"><span lang="EN-US">James Baldwin’s remarkable second novel, <em>Giovanni’s Room</em> (1956) influenced all subsequent gay writing"”not only in its themes, but also in its tone. Paying frequent homage to that book, Andrew Holleran’s <em>Dancer from the Dance</em> and other fiction of the Eighties taught gay men how to be gay, and the melancholic tone these novels created persisted for decades to come, exemplified most recently in Garth Greenwell’s <em>What Belongs to You</em> (2016). An unexpressed loss imbues the work of David Leavitt, Edmund White, Larry Kramer, Michael Cunningham, and Alan Hollinghurst, but the argument here is that more recent protagonists are, if anything, even more solitary than those in the bathhouses and discos of the Eighties.</span></p> John Hawley Copyright (c) 2020 John Hawley https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/135 Fri, 04 Dec 2020 00:00:00 +0100 "Such a resigned, melancholy pucker". Gli Eighties tra ironie, ipocrisie, fragilità e crisi della "vecchia" Englishness https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/139 <p>Jonathan Coe, in <em>What a Carve Up! </em>(1994)<em>,</em> illustra in maniera a tratti spietata quello che è stato il consumismo amorale e senza freni degli <em>Eighties</em>, incarnandolo nei Winshaw, una famiglia avida e senza scrupoli, specchio e allo stesso tempo motore dell’Inghilterra liberista e thatcheriana. In un ambiente analogo, in cui l’apparenza è l’unico valore e qualsiasi reale introspezione è messa al bando, si muove anche il protagonista di <em>The Line of Beauty </em>di Alan Hollinghurst (2004), una struggente rappresentazione degli stereotipi, abusi e falsi perbenismi di cui è fatto oggetto Nick, giovane gay nella Londra degli anni Ottanta. Anche il romanzo di Hollinghurst, come quello di Coe, intende smascherare e denunciare il materialismo e la superficialità delle classi privilegiate, e lo fa attraverso lo sguardo di Nick, sorta di moderno scalatore sociale, più o meno consapevole della propria posizione subalterna in una società che non esita a schiacciare individui già di per sà© fragili e vulnerabili. Una condizione molto simile è narrata anche da Hanif Kureishi in <em>The Black Album </em>(1995). In questo caso, la subalternità del protagonista Shahid è resa ancora più evidente dal suo essere figlio di emigrati pakistani, e pertanto bersaglio dell’utopistico conservatorismo del <em>gentleman</em> inglese e del razzismo anglo-sassone in quella che dovrebbe essere "una società fluida, non gerarchica" (Kureishi 1986), ma che è ancora malinconicamente attaccata ai retaggi del passato. In ognuno dei tre testi, tuttavia, l’apparente superiorità di una <em>Englishness</em> forte e infallibile viene messa in discussione dall’ironia e dai riferimenti culturali messi in campo dai tre autori. Il saggio intende, quindi, rileggere queste apparenti celebrazioni della <em>Englishness</em>, esaltandone la carica satirica e svelando la reale decadenza e fragilità di un sistema di valori fortemente in crisi. Elemento in comune, e vero <em>fil rouge</em>, di questa rappresentazione a tutto tondo degli <em>Eighties</em> è un sotto-strato di malinconia che fa da sfondo ad ogni gruppo sociale descritto nei tre romanzi, vero emblema di un’Inghilterra capace, come ogni essere vivente, del potere di cambiare rimanendo sà© stesso (Kureishi 1986).</p><p> </p> Alessia Polatti Copyright (c) 2020 Alessia Polatti https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/139 Fri, 04 Dec 2020 00:00:00 +0100 Students’ Quests in Liu Sola’s Post/Modernist Narrative: You Have No Other Choice and Chaos and All That https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/133 <p class="Testo"><span lang="EN-US">In this essay, I offer close readings of <em>Ni bie wu xuanze</em> (<em>You Have No Other Choice</em>, 1985) and <em>Hundun jia li-ger-leng</em> (<em>Chaos and All That</em>, 1991), two short novels by Chinese author, musician, and composer Liu Sola. A graduate in composition from the Central Conservatory of Music, Liu made a resounding literary debut in 1985 with <em>You Have No Other Choice</em>, which was rapidly classified as the first authentically modernist Chinese work of narrative fiction. In 1988, she moved to London, where she wrote <em>Chaos and All That</em>. While keeping in mind the tension between, on the one hand, Liu’s pivotal position in contemporary Chinese cultural discourse and, on the other hand, the diasporic location she ended up occupying, I attempt to contextualize both novels under examination with respect to the Chinese historical, cultural, and literary context of the 1980s and the very early 1990s, when an effervescent debate on modernity, and especially on the potentialities and pitfalls of literary modernism, gradually showed the signs of a shift towards post/modernism. Within this context, I also engage with a more strictly literary and tropological frame of reference, exploring Liu’s creative usage of a recurring, rich trope in Chinese literature: the "student", especially as study abroad student – a trope that changes, and is the bearer of different connotations, according to how the component of gender is deployed.</span></p> Serena Fusco Copyright (c) 2020 Serena Fusco https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/133 Thu, 03 Dec 2020 00:00:00 +0100 Are We Really Going Back to Derry? Revisiting the 1980s Through Stephen King’s It and Its Recent Adaptations https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/134 <p><span lang="EN-US">As part of a recent trend in the Hollywood industry, a number of movies and TV series with adolescent characters and set in the 1980s have been produced lately, and Andy Muschietti’s movies<em> It Chapter One</em> (2017) and <em>It Chapter Two</em> (2019), which are based on Stephen King’s novel <em>It </em>(1986), follow the same tendency by evoking a melancholic longing for the 1980s. However, these movies provide mostly a flat and consumerist idea of that period which is based on the constant presence on screen of representative objects of the entertainment industry for adolescents of that time. The article compares Stephen King’s <em>It</em> and Muschietti’s movie adaptations in order to show how, in the movies, such a superficial portrayal of the past not only reduces the complexity and depth of the context as it is described in the novel, but also fails to represent more in general the cultural and political tensions that were part of the 1980s.</span></p> Nicolangelo Becce Copyright (c) 2020 Nicolangelo Becce https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/134 Fri, 04 Dec 2020 00:00:00 +0100 Never Knew love Like this Before: Signifyin(g) the Invisibility of Black Death in the 1980s Ballroom Culture https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/140 <p>Ryan Murphy’s TV series <em>Pose</em> takes the 1980s ballroom culture of NYC centerstage and shows how it turns the obsession of those years for style and fashion into a culture of excess and extravaganza to love and live by. Ideas of beauty and realness are re-worked and exploded, only to become as elusive as the subjects to which they are applied. In the tension between the fear generated by the AIDS epidemic, and a sheer lust for life, the ballroom provides mild consolation and only temporary solace. Assimilating and replicating, in its own terms, the consumeristic logic and the competitive antagonism that regulate the mainstream, the ballroom ultimately borrows from that ugly outside the same discriminatory principles used to annihilate the always unworthy black body.</p><p class="Testo">Focusing on the narrative structure that exasperates the tragic register to a point of absurd comedy in "Never Knew Love Like This Before" (S2E4), this article looks into transwoman Candy’s death and funeral as a way to question the naà¯ve idea of the ballroom as a safe space for the black queer subject. In so doing, it posits that the phantoms of – both physical and social – death and racial/sexual prejudice, that seemingly provide just the historical contours to the show, instead fully permeate the ballroom culture and locate the sense of permanent loss inside the very place that was supposed to be a haven. Candy’s death indeed proves that, despite the alleged existence of a safety net for "those of her kind", the terms of its inclusion had severe limits, the most relevant being the replication of white capitalistic and misogynoirist paradigms of evaluation exasperated by – and hidden behind – the glitters and flamboyance of black queer irreverence. No matter how hard she tries, in fact, Candy is never deemed worthy <em>to be seen</em> by her peers, and it is this denied recognition that will bring her to death.</p> Giuseppe Polise Copyright (c) 2020 Giuseppe Polise https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/140 Fri, 04 Dec 2020 00:00:00 +0100 No Longer, Not Yet: Retrofuture Hauntings on The Jetsons https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/138 <p class="Testo"><span lang="EN-US">From <em>Back to the Future</em> to <em>The Wonder Years</em>, from <em>Peggy Sue Got Married</em> to The Stray Cats’ records – 1980s youth culture abounds with what Michael D. Dwyer has called "pop nostalgia," a set of critical affective responses to representations of previous eras used to remake the present or to imagine corrective alternatives to it. Longings for the Fifties, Dwyer observes, were especially key to America’s self-fashioning during the Reagan era (2015).</span></p><p class="Testo"><span lang="EN-US">Moving from these premises, I turn to anachronisms, aesthetic resonances, and intertextual references that point to, as Mark Fisher would have it, both a lost past and lost futures (Fisher 2014, 2-29) in the episodes of the Hanna-Barbera animated series <em>The Jetsons</em> produced for syndication between 1985 and 1987. A product of Cold War discourse and the early days of the Space Age, the series is characterized by a bidirectional rhetoric: if its setting emphasizes the empowering and alienating effects of technological advancement, its characters and its retrofuture aesthetics root the show in a recognizable and desirable all-American past. The show’s contradictions allow the audience to explore the possibilities of a technology-determined future without the threat of change produced by major epistemological shifts. I argue that, at a time when the threat of nuclear annihilation weighed again on the shoulders of America’s youth, reverberations from the past and its unfulfilled promises were key to defining and enabling the nation’s sense of futurity.</span></p> Stefano Morello Copyright (c) 2020 Stefano Morello https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/138 Fri, 04 Dec 2020 00:00:00 +0100 Comedic Coping: Humour Techniques and Melancholia in Tim Burton’s Beetlejuice https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/126 <p class="Testo">From a humour analysis perspective on Tim Burton’s <em>Beetlejuice</em>, this article will discuss the film’s depiction of melancholia within a world that is both funny and bizarre. Released in 1988, the film seems to directly contrast the conservative culture at the time, Reaganomics in the United States as well as the rise of the religious right; the film not only mocks rampant materialism of the decade, but also its leaders’ patriotism, optimism, and beliefs about the afterlife. Unquestionably gothic, Burton’s film follows a recently deceased couple clash with an eccentric family moving into their small-town home. These apparitions then attempt to scare the family away, unsuccessfully, seeking help from the film’s titular character Beetlejuice. From the start, this film addresses dark topics such as death and isolation, illustrating a sense of loss of the 1980s; yet at the same time, it succeeds in its comedy-horror genre. Many instances of these comedic moments can be explained by exploring their resonance with two leading humour theories, Incongruity Theory and Superiority Theory.</p><p class="Testo">Though addressing dark topics and themes, Burton and his production crew juxtapose these against an unusual world filled with cartoon-like characters, comedic banter, irony, and numerous instances of Incongruity Theory and Superiority Theory. While doing so, the film not only incorporates melancholia throughout the narrative, but also shows the coping power of comedy for characters stuck in hellish situations. The film therefore is not mocking grief or depression, but rather showing how people cope during difficult times. From the film’s eclectic soundtrack to its actors’ over-the-top performances, such a drastic juxtaposition of elements could have resulted in a stylistic mess. However, the film has achieved a cult status and remains a part of our popular culture to this day. This article posits that the film’s ability to address sad topics in enjoyable ways may be one of the factors of its success; by depicting effective coping techniques during a decade of growing conservative and religious influence in the United States, <em>Beetlejuice</em> represented the melancholia of the 1980s while also helping people in the process.</p> Matthew McKeague Copyright (c) 2020 Matthew McKeague https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/126 Thu, 03 Dec 2020 00:00:00 +0100 Queer Melancholia in The Lost Language of Cranes: The Novel, the Film and the Search for Language https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/129 <p><span>My paper offers a reading of David Leavitt’s novel <em>The Lost Language of Cranes</em> (1986), and of its cinematic version directed by Nigel Finch (1991), aimed at illustrating the paralysing sense of loss that pervades the American cultural climate in the 1980s. Leavitt’s coming(out)-of-age tale juxtaposes the precarious condition of male homosexuality, threatened by the spectre of the AIDS epidemic, with the disruption of the Benjamins’ family unity, thereby exhibiting the debilitating effects of queer melancholia. By investigating the incorporative mechanisms of queer melancholia and its unspeakable sense of loss, my article addresses the paradoxical search for language as a means to externalise melancholic grief. As suggested in these lines, <em>The Lost Language of Cranes</em> is then concerned with the search for self-definition and in many ways evinces a poetics of melancholia by privileging a tendency to narcissism and elegiac lamentation. And yet, both the novel and the film emphasise the significance of pop culture, gay clubbing, and increasing commodification by means of intertextual references to cinema, TV, and music icons that offer a snapshot of a generation lost in "its new alphabets of images" (Leavitt 1985). In its reliance on grief and pop culture, <em>The Lost Language of Cranes</em> can be said to give voice to what is essentially inarticulable, thus questioning the disturbing mechanisms of melancholia.</span> </p> Angelo Monaco Copyright (c) 2020 Angelo Monaco https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/129 Thu, 03 Dec 2020 00:00:00 +0100 Tondelli and Morrissey: separate rooms, connecting rooms https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/130 <p class="Testo">Pier Vittorio Tondelli, one of the most significant writers of the European Eighties, was arguably the first interpreter within the Italian literary milieu of Morrissey’s lyrics and imaginary. The artist from Manchester – first with his band, The Smiths, and then as a solo artist – established himself as the most "literary" songwriter in contemporary English culture, becoming a cult author thanks to works which span from the records Meat Is Murder (1985), The Queen Is Dead (1986) and Viva Hate (1988) to the book consecration of his Autobiography (2013), published in the Penguin Classics collection. Tondelli deeply engaged with the melancholy poetics that characterized Morrissey’s lyrics (spleen, Wildean decadentism, a desperate sentimentalism and a distinctive sexual ambiguity), going as far as to insert precise mentions and references from Morrissey’s works in his most famous novels. From Rimini (1985) to the spiritual testament Camere separate (1989), along with the miscellaneous nonfiction anthology Un weekend postmoderno (1990), Tondelli never ceased to dialogue with the British singer as a poetic coeval soulmate within an aesthetic paradigm of both the "artist as a young man" and the homosexual as a "forbidden hero". Due to his early death, Tondelli never had a chance to meet Morrissey personally and Morrissey probably never read Tondelli’s works. This article seeks to investigate in detail the almost unexplored relationship between two crucial authors of the European Eighties, whose apparently separate rooms become connecting through literature, the search for a homeland, lost and found time.</p> Giulio Carlo Pantalei Copyright (c) 2020 Giulio Carlo Pantalei https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/130 Thu, 03 Dec 2020 00:00:00 +0100 Youthful Melancholy: The Loss of Innocence in Another Country and The Company of Wolves https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/137 <p class="Testo"><span lang="EN-GB">Youth in culture is a highly suggestive symbol. The in-between nature of the youthful state – having more power than the child, but not fixed as an adult – has symbolized rich possibilities beyond the conventional. In the midst of the seemingly light-hearted and fun loving glossy 1980s, specific examples in popular culture have featured the youth as a site of ambiguous energy, uncertain loyalty and overall unreliable members of the community. Their experiences, as represented in the media, may give us a glimpse of the hidden anxiety and the buried mournfulness packaged in youth experiences.</span></p><p class="Testo"><span lang="EN-GB">The proposed article will discuss two British film adaptations, of a stage play and a short story respectively, to examine how the media have depicted the melancholies of the era through the youth’s experiences. <em>Another Country</em> (1984), directed by Marek Kanievska, was based on the play by Julian Mitchell, alluding to the early life of spy and double agent Guy Burgess, in the main character Guy Bennett. The film starts with the aged Bennett being interviewed and recalling his young days at the elite boarding school. As the students are all elites in the social hierarchy, the school masters have turned a blind eye to the many deviant behaviours among the youths. Guy Bennett, staying true to his homosexual orientation, learns his lesson when trying to protect his illicit love. The uncomfortable sense of oppression and repression follows through Bennett’s remembrance, and mourns for the loss of the self that started so many years before. Neil Jordan’s <em>The Company of Wolves</em> (1984) is based on the short story written by Angela Carter, and adapted into a gothic-style horror fantasy. The fearless Rosaleen, the teenage version of Little Red Riding Hood, transgresses the human world into the bestial world, to understand desire and its potential power of overturning the order of the world. Packaged as a horror story, the film suggests the buried underside of orderly and rational society, and its special bond with the youth, who is at the crossroads between childhood and adulthood.</span></p> Amy Wai Sum Lee Copyright (c) 2020 Amy Wai Sum Lee https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/137 Fri, 04 Dec 2020 00:00:00 +0100 Malinconica Moana, morte e malattia sullo sfondo del porno italiano https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/141 <p class="Testo">Il presente articolo si propone di leggere la figura di Moana Pozzi come un prodotto culturale della malinconia degli anni Ottanta. La star, che ha vissuto il suo massimo fulgore durante la crisi epidemica di AIDS e che ha scelto di ritirarsi dalle scene e dalla vita pubblica dopo essersi ammalata di cancro al fegato, è ricordata nell’immaginario popolare per la sua eleganza convenzionale, più congeniale al cinema tradizionale che a quello pornografico. L’ingresso in settori della cultura popolare "lecita", come la televisione, la politica e la moda, è stato reso possibile tanto dal rispetto di determinati standard estetici quanto dal rispetto di un’etica dell’osceno, di cui la scelta di celare malattia e segni di morte è la prerogativa più evidente.</p><p class="Testo">Se il cancro è per definizione una malattia innominabile, la scoperta dell’HIV nei primi anni Ottanta trasforma la vita sessuale quotidiana degli individui in una questione di sicurezza pubblica, tanto da rendere necessaria la rappresentazione e la discussione esplicita del comportamento sessuale. La nuova narrazione della sessualità finisce per comportare un coefficiente di responsabilità in grado di far trapelare una rivalutazione dei costumi sessuali degli anni precedenti, causa di "tragici errori". Rappresentare la sessualità non significa più raffigurare la ricerca e l’abbandono al piacere, come negli anni Sessanta, ma cercare di dipingere una salvaguardia dell’ordine pubblico e la necessità di combattere e sconfiggere la malattia. Nell’ottica degli anni Ottanta, l’idea della promiscuità perduta produce un ricordo nostalgico. Lo spettro dell’AIDS, che gruppi religiosi e ultraconservatori dipingono come la punizione divina e naturale alla sregolatezza e alla liberazione sessuale, esercita un potere sull’immaginario erotico <em>in toto,</em> in parte dovuto alla continuità fra gli incubi sessuali dei tradizionalisti e i sogni della controcultura. Il "tentativo di colonizzare la nostalgia dell’irraggiungibile" produce una continuità nell’immaginario pornografico che ha nella bianchezza e nella passività femminile prerogative necessarie.</p> Sofia Torre Copyright (c) 2020 Sofia Torre https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/141 Fri, 04 Dec 2020 00:00:00 +0100 Editorial https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/142 Marta Cariello, Serena Guarracino Copyright (c) 2020 Serena Guarracino https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/142 Tue, 22 Dec 2020 00:00:00 +0100 Introduzione https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/143 <p class="Testo">Nell’immaginario collettivo, gli anni Ottanta restano ancora un decennio di spensieratezza, disimpegno e superficiale materialismo. Gli anni segnati dal consolidamento dell’asse Reagan-Thatcher all’insegna di una politica di stampo conservatore vedono una simbiosi inedita tra il moralismo più paranoico (di cui sono un esempio i numerosi telepredicatori negli Stati Uniti, oppure la promulgazione della Section 28 in tema di omosessualità nel Regno Unito) e l’esplosione del consumismo più edonista. Nonostante l’attuale percezione retrospettiva degli anni Ottanta come l’epoca del trionfo di un’estetica patinata e di una opulenza priva di contenuti, scrittori, registi e artisti in generale elaborano in quel periodo rappresentazioni eterogenee e articolate della dissoluzione della tensione ideale generata nella stagione della controcultura. Il confronto con la malinconia e la perdita permea infatti la produzione culturale del decennio, ed è rappresentato, con diversi livelli di consapevolezza, da numerosi autori, attraverso generi e forme diversi; questo numero di <em>de genere</em> raccoglie contributi che si interrogano sulla malinconia degli anni Ottanta, guardando a quel decennio come a una fase in cui la cultura era più o meno consapevolmente ossessionata da un senso di perdita. </p> Maria Giovanna Fusco, Fiorenzo Iuliano Copyright (c) 2020 Maria Giovanna Fusco, Fiorenzo Iuliano https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/143 Tue, 22 Dec 2020 00:00:00 +0100 Writing Cyprus Postcolonial and Partitioned Literatures of Place and Space https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/144 Jacqueline Jondot Copyright (c) 2020 Jacqueline Jondot https://www.degenere-journal.it/index.php/degenere/article/view/144 Sun, 27 Dec 2020 00:00:00 +0100