L’esistenza di una “letteratura omosessuale” è da sempre una questione controversa: appare tuttavia evidente come la nuova visibilità attribuita all'esperienza di uomini e donne omosessuali abbia fatto emergere negli ultimi decenni un mondo di relazioni affettive, politiche e artistiche di grande varietà e ricchezza. Difficile stabilire in modo nitido che cosa ne delimiti i confini: la vita erotica, presunta o dichiarata, di chi scrive? I temi trattati? La presenza di scelte formali legate da un rapporto privilegiato all'argomento omosessuale? Se non sono le differenze a dividerci, bensì la nostra incapacità di riconoscerle e celebrarle, la forma di conoscenza che la letteratura ci consegna è fondamentale. Il convegno si propone quindi di creare un’occasione di confronto sul rapporto tra scrittura e sessualità, accogliendo testimonianze e riflessioni di autori del massimo prestigio in campo internazionale.

Giovedì 17, ore 9.30 - 13.00
Palazzo Medici Riccardi - Sala Luca Giordano
Saluti:
Andrea Barducci (Presidente della Provincia di Firenze)
Mario Citroni (Direttore dell’Istituto Italiano di Scienze Umane)
Sonia Spacchini (Assessore alle Pari Opportunità della Provincia di Firenze)
Scelte di libertà
Presiede: Nadia Fusini
Intervengono: Massimo Fusillo, Franco Buffoni, Sarah Schulman, Walter Siti

Giovedì 17, ore 15.30 - 19.00
Palazzo Medici Riccardi - Sala Luca Giordano
La tradizione e il talento individuale
Presiede: Gian Pietro Leonardi
Intervengono: Adam Mars-Jones, Paul Burston, Maureen Duffy, Mario Fortunato

Venerdì 18, ore 9.30 - 13.00

Palazzo Strozzi - Altana
Gli anni più felici
Presiede: Valeria Gennero
Intervengono: Valeria Viganò, Marco Mancassola, Tommaso Giartosio
Conclude: Nadia Fusini

Phranc - M-A-R-T-I-N-A

Oh I got up at seven
just to watch her win
playing on the warm gras courts at wimbledon
If anyone should ask me: Phranc who's the greatest
Oh, I would have to say,
without a doubt in my mind, it's M-A-R-T-I-N-A
'Cause M-A-R-T-I-N-A, she's the greatest in the world today
N-A-V-R-A-T-I-L-O-V-A she's the greatest in the world today
Hey now Steffi she has worked hard and she's earned my respect
But when it comes to game of tennis honey
It's still Martina who is the best
'Cause M-A-R-T-I-N-A N-A-V-R-A-T-I-L-O-V-A
she's the greatest
in the world of womens tennis
that's
M-A-R-T-I-N-A
N-A-V-R-A-T-I-L-O-V-A
she hails from C-Z-E-C-H-E-S-L-O-V-A-K-I-A
Czecheslovakia but now she's an American
She used to live in Dallas, with Nancy Lieberman
Then she moved to Fort Worth with Judy Nelson
Then to Aspen with Cindy Nelson, no relation
But I love her anyway, i don't care who she is stooping
Oh i got up at seven
just to watch her win
playing on the warm gras courts at Wimbledon
If anyone should ask me..
(to the crowd) "go ahead ask me"
(crowd:) "who's the greatest?"
i guess i have to say
without a doubt in my mind or in my heart
it's M-A-R-T-I-N-A, M-A-R-T-I-N-A, m-a-r-t-i-n-a
don't you agree?

Kate Bush - Kashka from Baghdad

Kashka from Baghdad
Lives in sin, they say,
With another man,
But no one knows who.

Old friends never call there.
Some wonder if life's
Inside at all--
If there's life inside at all.

But we know the lady who rents the room.
She catches them calling a la lune.

At night
They're seen
Laughing,
Loving.
They know
The way
To be
Happy.

They never go for walks.
Maybe it's because
The moon's not bright enough.
There's light in love, you see.

I watch their shadows,
Tall and slim,
In the window opposite.
I long to be with them.

'Cause when all the alley-cats come out,
I can hear music from Kashka's house.

At night
They're seen
Laughing,
Loving.
They know
The way
To be
Happy.

"Watching every night.
Don't you know they're seen?
Won't you let me laugh?
Let me in your love.

"Watching every night.
Don't you know they're seen?
Won't you let me laugh?
Let me in your love.

"Watching every night.
Don't you know they're seen?
Won't you let me laugh?
Let me in your love.

"Watching every night.
Don't you know they're seen?
Won't you let me laugh?"

The Associates - Party Fears Two

I'll have a shower
And then phone my brother up
Within the hour
I'll smash another cup
Please don't start saying that
Or I'll start believing you
If I start believing you
I'll know that this party fears two

And what if this party fears two?
The alcohol loves you while turning you blue
View it from here
From closer to near
Awake me

Don't turn around
I won't have to look at you
And what's not found
Is all that I see in you
My manners are failing me
I'm left feeling ugly
And you say it's wonderful
To live with I never will

So what if this party fears two?
The alcohol loves you while turning you blue
View it from here
From closer to near
Awake me

I'm standing still
And you say I dress too well
Still standing still
I might but it's hard to tell
Even a slight remark
Makes nonsense and turns to shark
Have I done something wrong?
What's wrong's the wrong that's always in wrong

I'll have a shower
And then phone my brother up
Within the hour
I'll smash another cup.

One day will this pain be useful to me?

Even so-called saints like Mother Teresa bother me. In some ways she was just as ambitious as people like my father or anyone who wants to be at the top of their profession.
Mother Teresa wanted to be the best saint, the top saint, so she did the most disgusting things she could do, and I know she helped people and relieved suffering and I'm not saying that's bad, I'm just saying I think she was as selfish and ambitious as everyone else.
Peter Cameron, Someday This Pain will Be Useful to You, p. 116

Presto il mondo mi darà ragione

Germaine Greer on Morrissey:

"When Morrissey sings a Morrissey song, he knows exactly what colour every part of every word is meant to be, and whether it crosses the rhythm to build up tension, or cannons into it to gain emphasis. If Morrissey repeats a line, he may vary it in a new context, or he may keep it exactly the same, as he does with "Every day is like Sunday", because part of the point of the song is the anguish of monotony as perceived by hapless youth - but the music catapults the repetition towards us like a javelin. The music does what the words alone cannot do. To present the words without the music is to emasculate them."

Germaine Greer : "Why do people think Bob Dylan was a great lyricist? That creep couldn't even write doggerel", The Guardian

Essential Resources

I long to create something
that can’t be used to keep us passive:
I want to write
a script about plumbing, how every pipe
is joined
to every other.
adrienne rich, “Essential Resources”, 1973