In French, ‘il,’ the third person masculine singular pronoun, can also have no gender at all: il pleut means ‘it’s raining.’ In Dominique Fourcade’s IL, ‘il’ means ‘it’—but not exactly. Genderless, ‘it’ is the man-woman, the woman man—and the place where we are each other.
Paperback, 120 pages
Published November 1st 2009 by La Presse
(first published February 27th 2009)
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Feels somewhat beyond my grasp, but perhaps I just did not read close enough. There is, however, a momentum inherent to it--somehow (though I'm not sure how)--that moves in a way that seems insane. Like insane in the best way. The last 20 sections seemed to be spinning. The type moves closer together to fit longer lines and the effect of that on my vision was fucked in a really exciting way. Lots of amazing parts, lines, but I can't put it all together yet. I want to though.