I’m currently listening to Jenny Hval
A dead man saying “I am dead” had different meaning for Barthes and Derrida. Where does the voice come from?
Lyrics to Blood Flight by Jenny Hval
“I carefully rearranged my senses
so they could have a conversation.
Taught them to switch places;
from each pore in my skin grew shimmering eyes!
And fingerprints filled the eye sockets.
From the ears grew two tongues,
and I sang for people passing a strange song.
Told them stories without moving my li!ps
(Mouth half-open, still)
They assumed the words came from themselves;
these unfamiliar thoughts,
and I sang to them:
aaa aaa aaa.
Such is the speech of the body:
The ribs painted their fingernails.
(Black, of course)
And on the edges of the cunt
grew little teeth!
The clitoris, that great sphinx, opened its eye:
So many blind years, acting Oedipus.
Meanwhile the vocal chords were listening
for the wind howling,
whispering a familiar language of breath …
secret tales for them to learn.
Then from my veins came a strange itching,
and I felt a pull through the shoulder blades.
I should have seen it coming!
The blood was itching!
And etched a hole at the nape of the neck.
It flew out into the night
like a long, red ribbon to the sky.
And up we went, blood and I, spread over the city.
The dark sky lay against my skin,
So close …
like an eyelid.
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