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- Herausgeber: Parthian Books
- Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
- Sprache: Englisch
Six writers, three from Việt Nam and three from Wales come together in the Room/Ystafell/Phòng to discuss their queer identities and how it has been shaped by world around them. Featuring discussion transcripts, poetry, photography, collages and prose. A man takes to the ballroom scene after months of lockdown in Há Nội, entranced by the vogue gods. An 81 year old lesbian artist writes to her ex-lovers daughter to explore her ten strange dreams. At 2am a young woman strides through Queen Street, Cardiff writing love notes to her cariad. Exploring sexuality, love and loss, language, cultural heritage, nature and joy this anthology sheds light on the queer experience in Wales and Việt Nam.
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Seitenzahl: 46
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024
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Room · Ystafell · Phòng
Xuân Tùng, Joshua Jones, Kai Nguyễn, Leo Drayton, Maik Cây and Lauren Morais
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Contents
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It began to rain while Kai was giving me a ride back to my hotel on the back of his motorbike. My last night in Viêt Nam. All around me the beeping horns fought for auditory dominance with the rain. As we passed over the river, I held onto his shoulders, and looked up at the sky.viii
Introduction
I sat on the outside of the table, drinking beers with two girls – 1 Spanish, 1 Italian - I had met mere hours ago, when it began to rain. I leaned out from underneath the red canopy, heavy with the thick droplets dropping hard, and I looked up at the sky, like I was about to insert contact lenses. The rain, I ran it over my scalp, pleasured the soak of my t-shirt that became transparent, showing the ghostly, wet skin beneath. I lit a cigarette. I’vemissedtherain, I said to my new friends who remained dry on the other side of the table. It reminds me of home.
There isn’t exactly a suite of similarity between Welsh and Vietnamese rain in the Spring. In Há Nội, it hadn’t rained for days – or a couple of weeks, even, according to some of the locals – so this first rain brought down the dust and pollution. All the stuff the thousands of motorbikes chuck up into the atmosphere every day. The next morning, realising my t-shirt, that I hung over the bottom of my bed in the hostel, smelt particularly funky, I washed it in the communal shower. The rain here was heavy, and the heat remained oppressive. Welsh rain feels fresh, clears the air. Or, it shrouds the air, a light mist embracing you as you walk through it.
I was miles away from anything I knew, and desperate to find familiarity anywhere I could. I got on with Irish backpackers the most, the closest I got to an accent like mine. 2I didn’t tell anyone I was queer, or autistic. Because I felt I had to protect myself — a feeling I hadn’t experienced in a long time because of the social circles I’ve built around me in Cardiff. Although, I did, very drunkenly, tell my new Irish friend that my ex-boyfriend is transgender, and I love him still, and how much I hate transphobes. He said, aye, my cousin is transgender, and she’s a laugh.
My time in Viêt Nam, meeting artists and collectives in Há Nội and Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon), was full of firsts. First time outside of Europe, first time participating in a panel discussion on queer literature – one of the first events in Viêt Nam of its kind – first time I truly saw how literature has the power to both bring together and comfort people. First time on the back of a motorbike, first time eating olives and enjoying them. First time I’ve been the only white person in a café, supermarket, neighbourhood, first time witnessing how queers in a different country, with a very different history and culture, mobilise and fight for their right to simply exist.
I personally chose who would join me in this project, Room/Ystafell/Phòng, by hand. Kai, Lauren, Leo, Maik, Tung – photographers, playwrights, poets, actors, dancers. Like the queers of the past, I wanted to create a family. A chosen family of creatives to build a space with, in which we were safe to express ourselves with truth and acceptance. We explored the boundaries of language, gender and the hinterlands of the body, queerness within urban and/versus rural landscapes. We found commonalities within our experiences while also worrying about censorship in all its forms – whether from government, our families/environments, or from ourselves.
From drag and ballroom culture to queer media, to a 3first kiss in a Cardiff nightclub, to queer dreamscapes, ecology and celebrating transgender experiences, this anthology of work is diverse in its form as well as content. I hope it’ll light a fire in every young, scared queer’s heart. I hope it’ll show queer people that, wherever they are in the world, there is a family ready to accept them – even if you build that family yourself, from the ground up.4
#workshop-2 (10:12 BST/ 16:12 UTC +7)
Joshua(he/him):Before we look at dictionary definitions, theories and what other people have to say. I’d like to hear what YOUR definition of queer is. Could you all share your personal definition/idea of what queer is below.
LeoDrayton(He/Him):
