I love Dick (by Chris Kraus)


​…”we have to stop diverting ourselves with false questions” (Chris Kraus, 218)”. I’d like to say we have to stop diverting ourselves with false destinations. The only destination is within us and Chris Kraus is having an extraordinary introspection into her world juxataposed with the love bore for Dick. I’ve just finished reading this novel, a cultural criticism, her love for Dick is an occasion to write about her feelings, erotical inuendos and about theory of language, her decions to change her writing from third person to the first one, the analyse of the speech, the literary world of ’80 and ’90, the intelectuals and their parties, their social life in New York or Paris. She talks about different real life personalities, her husband, Sylvere Lotringer, Dick Hebdige      ( the cold, distant man that she’s made a passion for), Jennifer Harbury’ s hunger strike in Guatemala, Katherine Mansfield, essays about schizophrenia, art works, Kitaj, Eleanor Antin, Hannah Wilke, so many cultural references and titles of writings. She is obssessed with Dick, a mysterious man that doesn’t reply to her letters nor her husband’s as they made up a game of writing to him, 80-90 letters, which like a French affair, accepts and promotes his wife’s sexual desires for him.

The book hasn’t been honoured by the reviews and critics, it’a radiology of a decade, the psychology of that generation of artists and intellectuals. The female consciousness: On Chris Kraus by Leslie Jamison beautifully intrigues you with her statements if you read her essay first. It’s not necessarily about Dick and about the unshared love for Chris, as all women find a full time job of loving a man that sometimes is not aware by their existence and when he is he immediately sacks them in the most abrupt cruel way despite the fact they are not ready to be unemployed. This pain comes from the fact that we, women will have space, lot of space in our head if not going to think about a Dick that we will be feeling so empty, lack of sense in life and itchy feet. Dick awakens in her the lost lust as she no longer has sex with her husband. Or Dick’s pursuit is intriguing their lives so as to have sex again. Is this frustrating sex? I love Dick is about sex, about females psychology when about finding a Dick in their lives. The energy that thrives from there. “All acts of sex were forms of degradation…The Serious Young Woman looked everywhere for sex but when she got it it became an exercise in desintegration.”

I don’t know why I feel like talking here about travelling, here being in the same context with Chris Kraus’ book I love Dick.

Well, I think it’s because we burn ourselves out by overthinking about men, jobs, family, make-up, beauty, external resources instead of nourishing our true self and subconscient, find time and availability to listen to our inner self, body, mind and hear what they are telling us everyday, instead of running from point A to point B sometimes without true purpose just to thick a box that won’t make us happy. Let’s find a state of self awareness, not run continuously for things that won’t make us richer, happier or wiser. So what if you saw all Europe if your behaviour continue to be unproductive for yourself but self sabotage, toxic companion,  compulsive obsessive disorder in controlling lives and giving advice, judging and being self distructive for your own heath?

When do people travel for pleasure? Is it when they have enough time to spend on the road, have availability, curiosity to meet the unknown, to plan, schedule, pack and love locomotion? Why do we need to find ourselves on the road again? Is travelling too much a C.O.D in your lifestyle? Is travelling a way of diverting your focus from yourself as a primary subject to another destination for your thoughts? 

Chris Kraus travels in time to write to Dick about her experiences and intimate thoughts, her work as a film maker, writer and woman. She needs a concept person to express herself and is, like we all do, hanging herself on him like on her most intimate friend to reveal her thoughts. Don’t we all women need that person to communicate with? Our imaginary friend that we feel the urge to explain and confess? The more intelligent the better. The more enigmatic the better.

“It is impossible to forgive whoever has done us harm if that harm has lowered us. We have to think that it has not lowered us but revealed to us our true level”.

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