Gina Loy x Mertrude Stein
G: m y n a
m e is g i n a l o y
M: Gina. A name, a game, a beautifully twisted manipulative personification of the self. 1882. 1996. A man. A woman. A more than man. A bag of flesh. None of them truly
capture the essence.
G: Mertrude the bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh – – – – aside from that which I surreptitiously affirm, the WRENCH by and in which fullness of woman and woman plus woman manifest themselves.
M: Wrench. A tool, often grey but sometimes shiny. A tool, to be wielded, screwed on and screwed off, and occasionally thrown.
G: Whack!
G: Clank!
G: The feminist movement at present instituted is tender. Meek. Mild. Pushing all the right butto
ns, like the submissive and cowed parasiticaprostitutes they are.
M: Feminism. Woman as man? Man becomes woman? One becomes greater than the other?
G: The present state of affairs looks gorgeous. Ideal and effective.
M: Present. A gift. Gifts are to be cherished, and sometimes regifted.
G: A gift from above. James said it best, the apostolic fool.
Brilliant mimicry of Stein and Loy’s distinctive styles! You capture the way Stein uses repetition and wordplay to destabilize meanings from words and objects, whereas Loy excavates relationships and dislodges syntax. I’m especially fond of your portmanteau “parasiticaprostitutes,” which I think Loy would have loved.