More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
My ultimate dream is to get pregnant and have an abortion, just like a normal woman.
Outbursts that ran counter to society’s rules disrupted its rhythm. They startled people, in the same way that my ungainly limp did.
Of course, the tweetings of a hunchbacked monster would be more twisted than those of someone with a perfectly erect spine.
Holding in both hands an open book three or four centimetres in thickness took a greater toll on my back than any other activity. Being able to see; being able to hold a book; being able to turn its pages; being able to maintain a reading posture; being able to go to a bookshop to buy a book – I loathed the exclusionary machismo of book culture that demanded that its participants meet these five criteria of able-bodiedness. I loathed, too, the ignorant arrogance of all those self-professed book-lovers so oblivious to their privilege.
I hated museums, and libraries, and any kind of historic building. I loathed old things, whose flawless, polished form had been impeccably preserved. I hated things which endured without breaking, which accrued value through ageing. The longer I lived, the more my body collapsed into an ever more aberrant shape.
I didn’t look at Tanaka and had no interest in the expression on his face. I imagined he felt a similar disinterest towards my body. Unlike the nonconsensual care administered by the opposite sex that took place in heavy-handed healthcare facilities and hospitals, this was a situation I had consented to. Disabled people were not sexual beings – I had assented to the definition that society had created.
Did he think that seeing me naked meant he was at liberty to alter the nature of our relationship? For a brief moment, showerhead in hand, he had possessed absolute control over me. Was he feeling emboldened?
From the bright white of the ceiling, the dazzling round eye of the downlight stared down at me. I looked up at its brilliant light. On the other side of that light, lotus flowers bloomed. The flowers of Nirvana that blossomed out of the mud.
