General Editor's Introduction
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General Editor’s Introduction SUSAN STRYKER hat Perspectives on History, the house organ of the American Historical Asso- T ciation, recently ran a lengthy feature on “transgender studies and transgender history as legible fields of academic study” says a great deal about how transness has become a significant object of both disciplinary and interdisciplinary inquiry at this historical moment (Agarwal 2018). In their introduction to this special issue of TSQ on “trans*historicities,” guest editors Leah DeVun and Zeb Tortorici note the plethora of recent conferences, symposia, and journal issues on the contem- porary interconnectedness of the topics of transness, time, and temporality, and ask, “What is it about the gesture of comparison to the past—be it ancestral, asynchronous, or properly contextualized—that provokes such urgency now?” Perhaps urgency itself holds an answer to their question about the time- liness of trans*. In his celebrated theses on the philosophy of history, Walter Benjamin asserts that “to articulate the past historically does not mean to recognize it ‘the way it really was.’” In the present, rather, the past appears only as a fleeting image that can be grasped, or not, in the instant it appears in our vision, illuminated by the light of whatever calamities characterize the current moment. To write his- tory, Benjamin said, means “to seize hold of a memory as it flashes up at a moment of danger.” The danger he observed, writing in 1940 as the Nazis rolled over Europe, was all too clearly visible. He continued, “The tradition of the oppressed teaches us that the ‘state of emergency’ in which we live is not the exception but the rule. We must attain to a conception of history that is in keeping with this insight. Then we shall clearly realize that it is our task to bring about a real state of emergency, and this will improve our position in the struggle against Fascism” (1940). Whether our own present “state of emergency” is best characterized as a “struggle against Fascism” or against some virulent new form of populist author- itarian reaction is up for discussion, but that we are in a “moment of danger,” in whichtrans*livesaresimultaneouslymore visible and more precarious, can TSQ: Transgender Studies Quarterly * Volume 5, Number 4 * November 2018 515 DOI 10.1215/23289252-7089989 ª 2018 Duke University Press Downloaded from https://read.dukeupress.edu/tsq/article-pdf/5/4/515/549381/515stryker.pdf by FLORIDA STATE UNIV user on 06 April 2019 516 TSQ * Transgender Studies Quarterly scarcely be argued. Since 2016, when the United Kingdom awoke to news of Brexit’s passage and the United States joined a growing list of countries where the government has lurched away from liberal democratic forms of governance, and as right-wing movements continue to make inroads across Europe, trans* lives are increasingly targeted as unwelcome presences in bodies politic animated by nativist, racist, and xenophobic fantasies. Emma Heaney, in The New Woman (2017), her recent study of the “trans- feminine allegory” that she finds to be a central if unmarked feature of transatlantic literary modernism, suggests that the figure of the feminine-identifying individ- ual assigned male at birth, who occupies a lacuna between cis-feminist aspira- tions to overturn the debilitations of conventional femininity in order to enter the masculinist public sphere and cis-male homosexual efforts to assert mas- culinist privilege through the disavowal of effeminacy, has been enlisted to stage the conundrums of modern gender, identity, and public belonging ever since the advent of modernism in the late nineteenth century. Her literary analysis is compatible with biopolitical perspectives that cast the political oppression of trans* people as an expression of the “administrative violence” provoked by the difficulties gender-noncompliant bodies pose for the routine bureaucratic operations of civil society, through troubling the categories of personhood through which modern populations are settled on territories and their lives administered for collective political and economic ends, and by subverting the logics through which those categories are affixed to the flesh (Spade 2015). It is to be expected then, as Eurocentric modernity frays at the seams, perhaps on the verge of disintegration, that genres of beings who have long served as grist for modernist identity machines should be experiencing heightened levels of visi- bility, attention, scrutiny, and interrogation. Trans* life at this moment in history, amid ecological and sociopolitical catastrophe, is rife with transformative potential. It demonstrates the fraught viability of enlivening movements across the hierarchized categories of being. It bears witness that deep change is truly possible—that the flesh can, at times, come to signify anew; that life canalized into familiar traces can overflow its banks and water other ways of being. Similarly, the radical alterity of the past itself offers testimony that deep change actually happens. Demonstrable difference over time is a promise that change will continue, that the present ordering of existence is not natural, inevitable, or eternal. But how, to follow Benjamin’s injunction, can we attain “a conception of history,” through the study of trans* oppression, that will allow us to grasp and enact the transformative potentials needed to make life otherwise than it is, for all of us who need another world? The articles in this issue of TSQ provide no simple answers to that vital question. But in tackling the question of trans*historicity, they reframe the present Downloaded from https://read.dukeupress.edu/tsq/article-pdf/5/4/515/549381/515stryker.pdf by FLORIDA STATE UNIV user on 06 April 2019 STRYKER * General Editor’s Introduction 517 in ways that let us see the past anew, and to perceive there, perhaps, in an elec- trifying flash, new pathways for life to follow. Susan Stryker is associate professor of gender and women’s studies and director of the Institute for LGBT Studies at the University of Arizona and general coeditor of TSQ: Transgender Studies Quarterly. References Agarwal, Kritika. 2018. “What Is Trans History? From Activist and Academic Roots, a Field Takes Shape.” Perspectives on History, May. www.historians.org/publications-and-directories /perspectives-on-history/may-2018/what-is-trans-history-from-activist-and-academic -roots-a-field-takes-shape. Benjamin, Walter. 1940. “On the Concept of History.” www.marxists.org/reference/archive /benjamin/1940/history.htm. Heaney, Emma. 2017. The New Woman: Literary Modernism, Queer Theory, and the Transfeminine Allegory. Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press. Spade, Dean. 2015. Normal Life: Administrative Violence, Critical Trans Politics, and the Limits of Law. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Downloaded from https://read.dukeupress.edu/tsq/article-pdf/5/4/515/549381/515stryker.pdf by FLORIDA STATE UNIV user on 06 April 2019 Trans, Time, and History LEAH DEVUN and ZEB TORTORICI uestions of time and chronology have risen to the forefront of scholarship 1 Q in queer and trans studies in recent years. Carolyn Dinshaw has advocated for anachronistic “touches” across time, Roderick Ferguson has envisioned queer “palimpsests with residues of earlier discourses and histories,” and C. Riley Snorton has highlighted intersections of blackness and trans as a condition of temporal possibility—as “movement with no clear origin and no point of arrival” (Dinshaw 1999; Dinshaw et al. 2007: 180; Snorton 2017: 2). Beyond this, a wave of new con- ferences and publications has explored “trans temporalities,” further demonstrating how methods of accounting for and thinking through time have become increas- ingly relevant to scholarship on trans subjects (e.g., Lau 2016; Fisher, Phillips, and 2 Katri 2017). In an influential essay, Kadji Amin has welcomed this “critical focus on the temporal underpinnings of transgender as a historical category [which] . may open the way toward a more transformative politics of justice” (2014: 219). It is to this crux of temporality and temporal crossing—always linked to overlapping modes of history, historiography, and historicity—that our issue of TSQ speaks. “Trans*historicities” joins surging interest in gender and sexuality as they relate to both patterns of time and the writing of history, advancing critical trans politics while simultaneously articulating and confounding our investments in reading, engaging, and cocreating historical pasts. The notion of a historical past is intricately interwoven with consider- ations of chronology (time as succession), periodization (time as segmented into units), and the specific cultural experiences of movement and change that under- gird how we view our position within time. Efforts to move ostensibly backward in time—to the historical underpinnings of trans—have long been attractive to scholars and activists. Pioneering works such as Kate Bornstein’s 1994 Gender Outlaw and Leslie Feinberg’s 1996 Transgender Warriors laid unabashed ancestral claim to gender-nonconforming lives in the past, and they did so to legitimate trans identities in the present. Bornstein, in ways that remain problematic yet TSQ: Transgender Studies Quarterly * Volume 5, Number 4 * November 2018 518 DOI 10.1215/23289252-7090003 ª 2018 Duke University Press Downloaded from https://read.dukeupress.edu/tsq/article-pdf/5/4/518/549379/518devun.pdf by FLORIDA STATE UNIV user on 06 April 2019 DEVUN and TORTORICI * Trans, Time, and History 519 illustrative for us, invoked the history of indigenous cultures, writing, “My ances- tors were performers. In life. The earliest shamanic rituals involved women and men exchanging genders. Old, old rituals. Top-notch performances. Life and death stuff. We’re talking cross-cultural here. We’re talking rising way way way above being a man or a woman. That’s how my ancestors would fly. That’s how my ancestors would talk with the goddesses and the gods. Old rituals” (143). Here, Bornstein draws (necessarily ahistorical) points of comparison between twenti- eth-century trans experience and that of a utopic, precolonial past, with which she expresses a deep affective bond.