I’ve been meaning to read some bell hooks for quite some time, and now that I find myself again in a little crisis about making my work more political, while at the same time exploring and discussing forms of writing, Wound of Passion (1997, Owl Books) came my way. To be honest, it didn’t much help me in both aspects, and especially in the beginning I was tempted to just let it be. But I’m not really good at not finishing books, so I went through with it, and halfway in, it finally hooked me. (Yeah, excellent pun, I know.)
What I liked best about it is probably the way she makes small, everyday problems in a relationship appear meaningful for a feminist project, and how she conveys the subtleties (and often not so subtle ties) of racism and classism. The book gave me a good idea about what intersectionality means “in the real world”, in which one has to provide for oneself. I thought it had little of writing for being subtitled “a writing life”, but then again the fact that it was hard to even find the little space for writing there is, shows how real the struggles hooks describes are.
How did I come across the book?
I was searching for something radical, feminist, by a person of color, on writing, to see if there was any way for me to make discussions about genre more political. I had read a chapter of Black Looks during my bachelor’s degree and remembered her name.
When and where did I read it?
During fieldwork in Bogotá, on several afternoons in cafés, but also on the bus to the library, or before going to bed. I also had it with me on a trip to Chile, where I didn’t look into it, however. On the plane there, it got me involved in a conversation with a priest, who thought (guessing from the cover motive, which shows two hands with red crosses on them) I was reading something religious. He was a little disappointed when I told him what the book was about.
If you want to read books that focus on black women, you better start writing and keep writing. (p.99)