Well. Hello, everyone. Welcome. It's really nice to see you. It's a beautiful day outside, but it's even better in here.
So thanks for coming. My name is Adam Smith, and I'm the president of the Oxford Bibliographic Society.
And this is our last event of the academic year. And this event, we're really looking forward to our discussion of career bibliography.
We've got two great speakers, Malcolm Noble, preferred speakers, unfortunately, and so he won't be joining us today,
but we're joined by Sarah and James and we'll have presentations from each of them
and then we'll have a discussion and then we'll open an out and out to the room.
There's lots of you here in the room, which is great. There's lots of you online as well.
So thank you for thank you for being here. I'll introduce our speakers now.
Dr. Sarah Pike is an associate research Fellow at the Institute of English Studies,
working on queer book history, histories of reading and children's literature.
And earlier this year, Sarah convened with Malcolm the Queer Bibliography Symposium of the Year, the IEEE.
So this event today in some ways follows on from that takes its initiative from Matt and Sarah will be
teaching a London rare book school course this summer on the material possibilities of children's books,
which looks fantastic.
And Sarah is also working on a project about Operation Tiger, the early 1980s raids by Her Majesty's Customs on gays, the word bookshop in Bloomsbury,
London, and as a recipient of this year's short 25th Anniversary Fellowship Award to work on that particular project.
And Sarah is also going to be the Mumby fellow in bibliography in Cambridge for 2023 2024.
JD Sargeant, trained at Queen Mary, University of London and here in Oxford is held postdoctoral fellowship at University
of Toronto in Durham and is now a research fellow at the University of Limerick.
He's the co-editor of the Routledge Handbook to the History of the Book in Medieval Western Europe,
which is out in 2025, I think, and the cultural history of trans lives in the Middle Ages out in 2027.
Jones is currently writing two other books. Reading early middle English books is a history of poor Eastern reading practices in 12th and
13th century England and Trends histories of the medieval book experiments in bibliography.
She's a methodological reassessment that takes its cues from queer and trans studies and critical theory, and is an article.
What could a trans book history look like towards trans code?
Ecology comes out next week. Really? Next week?
Next week in a special double issue of criticism on new approaches to critical bibliography,
which looks like a fantastic thing that we will need to read this summer.
That wasn't enough. This summer, James will be teaching a California rare book school course in queer bibliography,
and from August he will be assistant professor in the English department at the University of Georgia.
So without further ado. So thank you very much, Adam, for that generous introduction and for the invitation to speak.
It's really exciting to see so many people here in the room.
And I know that when Zoom as well. I can't see you.
I think you have maybe a slightly odd view of my chin, but that's okay.
On the publicity materials for this event, we posed several questions,
but I can't promise that you will have answers to all of them at the end of this.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, as with anything prefaced with queer, we.
Won't be offering any hard and fast definitions of this emerging field.
Rather, we'll try to name excessive caring affiliate practices,
methods and tools that might be used both to examine clear printed material that is, material that fits over content or through its production,
circulation or reception lends itself to being read as created and to examine any material otherwise in ways which,
drawing on queer theory, adapt and expand existing bibliographic historical protocols.
This is both about the design for a queer bibliography and the desire to queer bibliography and that relation
how the former might lead to the latter and between assimilationist and subversive tendencies is one we will,
I think, be teasing out in this evening's discussion.
I'm sorry that Malcolm can't be with us tonight, though.
We bring our own perspectives. We've been very much kind of thinking in dialogue with each other about all of these things.
And he was going to show you a lot of photographs of the gay uprising, which was distributed in the men's tools of the march,
and by being shoved surreptitiously in the kind of brochure boxes in the lobby.
So it's cool party box if you like things and you're like Oprah, and he knows a lot more about me than I do.
That's all I'm gonna say about it. That's enough for clearing.
I'm afraid. I need you to help me move my slides.
In her essay on becoming a lesbian reader, Alyson Hannigan, academic writer and former literary editor of Gay News,
recalls a shopping trip she took aged 12 with her mother in a central London newsagents.
She becomes convinced that a particular pulp paperback edition of a 19th century French novel is the one she must purchase.
The cover artwork was a lurid dust of wildly inaccurate depiction of a posse featuring two women sprawled across a table and each other.
Although author and title signified nothing to her at that time,
she describes her confusion and bewilderment at the intensity of her feeling that the book is one of mine, the right book for me.
Some three years earlier. In 1957, another lesbian author, Katherine Forrest, had a striking encounter with a book in a drugstore in Detroit.
A lesbian pulp paperback appeared before her disbelieving eyes.
I did not need to look at the title for clues, she explains.
The cover leapt out at me from the drugstore around. The then 18 year old Forrest immediately bought the book,
and Vernon's newly published Pulp classic Odd Girl out identifying it at first glance on basis of cover alone as a book as necessary to me as ever.
It opened the door to my soul, she breathlessly reveals and told me who I was.
When Nancy Gordon, author of Lesbian Coming of Age novel Annie On My Mind,
finally found the courage to look at homosexuality in a public library card catalogue.
No computers in those days, she explains. She did find a few adult books listed, but they were always unavailable.
Kath Weston recalls her own raid on the college library,
during which she uncovered a copy of the Duke's 1966 boarding School Romance tour as a is about handshaking.
Western checked out the book with a borrowed library card,
though it was untranslated and I knew no French Western explains the cognates were enough to make case.
This was the book for me. Feeling oddly compelled by titles, cover copy or illustration.
Poring over card catalogues, scrutinising author photographs, colour fonts, biographies and blurbs.
I've sent it in print, but also in person.
Queer readers are closet book historians for much of the last century and the early years of the present one.
A necessarily partial subjective canon of Quidditch could only be strung together by tenacious readers willing to follow such tenuous coded threads.
Its connection, as Philip Kennicott puts it in his essay Smuggler,
which depends as much on material books, on their power texts as on textual content.
Before Love, I was wondering when he writes that was the library before intimacy, before identity, before community.
There were books. Kate Kenney has theorised this as the graphic encounter.
But what do bibliography and book history have to say about these kinds of worldly interactions?
Surprisingly little so far. A very brief survey of some recent work in the field.
Queerness is conspicuous by its absence in the press and monkey libraries.
Further reading Andrew Lynch and Alexandra Gillespie's The Unfinished Book, and in the recent collection,
edited by Matteo Pantano and Emily, be towed teaching the history of the book.
I value these publications enormously,
but I am left still with questions about how the material objective the book makes a particular kind of meaning for queer people,
which I have been looking to the broader discipline to provide answers to.
It may not be extensively codified within traditional scholarship, but queer bibliography is nothing new.
We've been here doing it, searching stacks, practising active until logical, ardent modes of reading,
following archival traces, and assembling queer genealogies to sustain lives.
The numerous approaches have aided in these quests.
He's the third edition of Barbara Greer's collaboratively produced the Lesbian in Literature,
published in 1991 by my art press, developed from booklets compiled from the late 1950s onwards.
It used a coding system of letters and asterisks to indicate the quantity and quality of lesbian content within a particular work.
I don't know if anyone here is familiar with impassioned cows by moonlight, but it is rated a star.
So a focus on queer content, of course, also draws attention to the limits,
even the violence of institutional archival practices and cataloguing protocols to read the well of loneliness.
As a teenager in 1950s America, writes science fiction author Joanna Russ,
you have to go to the locked room in the college library and explain why you wanted it a requirement.
She points out that effectively prevented me from getting within a mile of it.
Tiffanie, Henry, Rhonda, Katherine and Anastasia, to remind us, in the Library of Congress system until 2020,
the classification H Ki 76 positioned homosexuality under the broader H key class sexual deviations.
But when Philip Gaskell writes, it was the librarians who aimed to hand on texts by caring for books in their keeping and making them available.
I think of the public librarians who facilitated access to credit, even in this country was section 28 was enforced.
There is an oral history in the WHO Carpenter archives, in which a gay man, Tony Openshaw,
recalls how at some point in the 1980s, after summoning the courage to request them from the reserved stock list.
He read shelved the novels of Radcliffe, who.
In Salford Public Library, Manchester on the open shelves, an act he refers to as liberating Rockcliffe Hall.
I recently heard William Sherman describe the effect of the war Berg's idiosyncratic cataloguing system structured around image, word,
orientation and action, where magic as a category but against natural science, direct you to the thing you need but don't know how to find.
This is precisely the kind of research experience described by so many people.
Sandy can, for example, on hearing the word lesbian for the first time as a teenager in the mid 1940s, ran to the library and the very next day.
I looked up the word lesbian and I felt so proud of myself because it talks about the Isle of Lesbos.
And it mentioned something about Radcliffe, who he wrote something called The Wall of Loneliness,
which I took on that very same day and read and reread it and reread.
A queer approach shows how bibliographic practices have already been operating both inside and outside disciplinary and institutional norms,
bringing professionalised and more intuitive amateur methods in conjunction.
And to those of us who came to books hungrily looking for something, especially those who like me, came also to the discipline of English literature,
searching for an explanation of how and why the body of the book seemed to hold in its very materiality some kind of answer to unarticulated questions
of selfhood and something weird about the position of book history and bibliographical scholarship in relation to English as it is institutionalised.
What I mean by this is that if like me,
you came into the Academy via a literature degree that invited you to examine the words on the page, but never the actual page.
Book, history and bibliography feel thrillingly transgressive.
The private investments and attachments that I like so many other career people have made in and to physical books over my lifetime,
seem to matter to bibliographies and book historians.
I almost can't believe it's allowed. I'm allowed to make the toxic things explicit.
As such, it puts it, to study the book is object to think about the labour that produced it and the many harms it has passed through.
Jesse Erickson has written that as almost always the only black person in the room,
his initial experiences of the discursive practices of bibliographical scholarship were often characterised by isolation.
Kate also has documented biographies, genderless aspects by implication,
its maleness and points out bibliographies, ability to analyse and value non-canonical experiences.
Materials has historically been limited. But when I think about books as tangible products of human endeavour in G.
Thomas Transcendence phrase queer bibliography building on the interventions made by black and feminist
bibliography enables me to recognise and state that endeavour includes the labour and lives of lesbian,
gay, bisexual, transgender people,
and always has done just as it harms women and people of colour and others who have historically been and continue to be marginalised.
But this isn't just a matter of recovery or reparative work necessary, though that is.
Like other liberatory bibliographies, there's something more generative and future oriented here, too.
We're bringing the motivating currents of our work from the margins to the centre,
and we're also pulling on the threads of traditional methods to define them and reassemble that history in new formations.
Created geographies about recognising we embodied an effective nature of our relations with printed objects
and how those relations add another more intangible urge to that understanding of human endeavour.
It's about admitting to the joy we find in our work that we often don't talk about naming our
desires for books and the frisson of pleasure we get from touching Hold it printed materials.
Queer bibliography is about giving us the tools to explain marginalia online.
It's found on the final page of a library.
Copy of What else? The Wall of Loneliness.
Not only in terms of circulation, reception and reading history, but an effective,
sensual and haptic term to his protagonist, Stephen Gordon's famous play.
Acknowledge us. Oh God. Before the whole world Give us also the right to.
Our existence is annotated with a marginal asterisk and a pink post-it note schooled with an urgent declaration in black by writer.
To my darling Lance. I exist. You exist.
Don't forget.
The Bookplate reveals that the copy in question was donated to Aberdeen University Library by the Gay and Lesbian Rights Campaign in 1999.
But what else is given in this private and public kind of private in public exchange, and what might provoke in its recipient, intended or otherwise?
To paraphrase Georgina Wilson, who chaired a panel at the symposium that Malcolm and I convened in February this year and put this
beautifully to pay attention to material texts is also to pay attention to the bodies of their readers.
Books act as sites that represent or remember queer encounters creating community that stretches through time.
And all of this is backstory, if you like, to that February event which grew from a hunch and a question and a conviction,
the hunch that there were more people out there thinking in all these lines.
The question, where is this article scholarship and the conviction that we have a responsibility
as historians of the book to consider the extraordinary meanings books make,
particularly in light of increasingly intensive attacks on anti-racist scholarship and teaching trans rights,
reproductive rights and diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives of all kinds.
The material that is currently being targeted as container and symbol of these acts and
political commitments by progressive forces both inside and outside the university,
school and library. In Florida, for example, school library shelves are being stripped as governor.
Ron DeSantis demands that so-called certified media experts review books previously available to children and young people.
According to the American Library Association, 2022 saw over 1200 documented demands to pull titles from library shows,
nearly doubling 729 charges in 2021, which itself is an increase of over 700% from the previous year.
The vast majority of these funds target books by and about LGBTQ people and people of colour.
Recent reports have suggested a massive increase in the amount of stock being sent to recycling plants by libraries.
Unable to know what to do in the face of these demands.
Library and LGBT advocacy organisations are encouraging communities to resist book signings, and here is some guidance.
But back to early February, we gathered 25 people in a room and twice that many over Zoom.
I think they swapped in to these photos. We opened up the space, but the participants, James is one of them, made it what it was.
We enthusiastically discussed everything from annotation to ornament editing to error.
Well, it will stay with me. Most from the three days that we spent together is the sense of collective exhalation,
the loosening of tension, no throat flaring or defensive that's necessary.
Everybody was somehow remarkably on the same page.
And I remember this all over again when I listened back to the roundtable session we recorded.
There was a lot of laughter, a supportive chat, knowing wrong and relieving.
We have plans for the next use of the event in the making and plans for publication, to which I'm happy to talk more about.
It was an extraordinary few days.
It's rare, I think, to have the experience not only of feeling that you are collectively shaping an emerging field of inquiry,
but of realising, given the precarity and frankly,
exclusion that characterises much contemporary academic existence, that this same field is the one in which you would choose to plant yourself.
There is much to be done, not least in working to cultivate properly intersectional theocracies.
But I look forward to seeing this empathy flourish and its contribution to the wider discipline grow.
Thank you so much for listening. So I'm going to juggle two computers in order to read and also change slides.
Okay. I just wanted to say at the start, thank you for inviting us to speak tonight.
Really interesting. And I'm going to pick up on a lot of the sort of threats that Sarah threw down.
So when we met first, when Sarah Martin and I first met to discuss what we wanted to do today,
And one of the key questions we wanted to answer is what is clear that democracy, What does it do?
Who does it serve? What makes it queer? And to my mind, the most pressing answer to this question is queer.
Bibliography is an ethical imperative, an imperative that for me, revolves around community building.
And I'm going to go in in some more depth into the attacks on sort of transpeople recently.
So that's something that might be sensitive for you.
Feel free to meet me for a couple of minutes. But today, since the 1st of January this year,
556 anti-trans and more widely anti LGBTQ passed bills have been introduced in the United States legislatures.
It has been three weeks since Florida enacted a ban on almost all trans healthcare in the state.
In January, here in the UK, the governments at Westminster invoked Section 35 to veto Scottish reforms to the Gender Recognition Act.
Since then, trans people have been excluded from a ban on conversion therapy.
Changes to the 2010 Equality Act are being pursued in government, and last week a review of sex education provision was announced,
which will likely herald a return to Section 28 or something like it to UK schools.
In October of last year, the Home Office reported that hate crimes against trans people had risen by 56% since last year, since the year before.
56% in a single year since the closure of the Tavistock Gender Identity Clinic.
There is currently no provision to treat transgender children in the UK.
And if you would be put on a waiting list at the NHS Portable Gender Identity Clinic in Sheffield today,
at current rates, it would take over 30 years to be seen for an initial intake appointment.
Up to 82% of transgender people experienced suicidal ideation, according to a study published last year.
Suicide risk in transgender teens decreases by 73% with access to affirming healthcare.
What we're experiencing even before we consider the state of public discourse,
which is a whole other paper is in an induced crisis that is, frankly, to my mind, genocidal in intent.
You may wonder what this has to do with the disciplinary nature of the history of the book.
And don't worry, there is a book coming in this presentation.
My answer to that is twofold. First, there is a strand of current discourse that rests on the premise that trans and non-binary people,
especially trans and non-binary children and the wider queer community beyond them
are a new or emerging and rapidly spreading phenomenon that needs to be addressed.
This is a form of delegitimization that queer, trans and non-binary identities and the resources that support them as a novel,
potentially fictitious and extraneous to society, and be a form of social contagion that perniciously targets young people.
However, while it's true that notions of gender and sexuality change across cultures and over time,
it is clear that genders and sexualities that do not align with current understandings of heterosexuality have always existed.
Premodern, trans and queer identities are not anachronisms, even as their formations might deny easy 1 to 1 transferability.
With that sense beyond my own intellectual curiosity,
I see limited value in the idea of proving the existence of queer and trans histories in and of themselves.
New and important research continues to be done in this area, and as Sara Ahmed and others have shown,
the work of repetition and amplification is both consistent, constant and important.
But I don't think that my reiteration of the president, the precedents,
the trans and queer lives is likely to be the piece that convinces bad actors of the validity,
let alone the beauty of trans, non-binary and queer existence.
Rather than my interest in career.
Bibliography is what it can do to build, strengthen and extend great community and through that where it can make space to create a futurity.
One way of doing that is by historic sizing, queer and trans experience to those that feel disconnected from their histories.
The queer bibliography provides the opportunity for more enmeshed forms of community formation,
two interlinked aspects of which I want to think about over the next 10 minutes or so.
The first is the importance of sustaining the career community of students and scholars working in the history of the now trans and queer people.
A tired and they're afraid queers and trans scholars of colour, even more so.
This is important. It is important to find ways to nourish and support one another wherever possible.
This work and the community that we build around it is one place that resistance to pressures within and without the fields might be staged.
However, creating opportunities to sustenance requires critical reflection.
We do not have time to dig into the methodological structures of the bibliographical field,
but it shouldn't be particularly controversial to suggest that scholars like Hellman,
Elaine Tahan and Alex Gillespie have come before me,
that many of those methods developed out of and around the European colonial project and participated in ideologies of white cultural superiority.
It is also a field, especially in the case of premodern studies built on access, access to institutions in the buildings that we sit in today.
Over time, such structures, disciplinary and institutional, exert their own grinding pressure on those who do not fit within their normative models,
the pressure that rests disproportionately on trans and queens of power.
Career bibliography I suggest we hope provides extensive, sometimes undisciplined notes critiquing,
resisting navigating and cutting through such structures and raising up its practitioners.
One way it does. This is through the kinship of extended trans temporal community formation.
In other words, the queer communities we build and sustain through critically ocracy are part of an entwined part of and entwined
with the arts that both past and present reaching through and across time through effective embodied interaction.
The significance of effective relations in the archive is a subject that was
heavily theorised by those working in librarianship and archival practice,
particularly in relation to queer bodies of queer design. It is something often ignored or I would suggest pointedly avoided by book historians.
In fact, I've been playing a game recently with my colleagues in Premodern studies.
Sorry, anyone who's been subject to this and a question section where I asked about the impact of effective implants in their work.
Mostly the response has been to deny that impact.
We avoid bias, retain neutrality, separate ourselves from emotional repercussions.
That feeling is the very heart of empiricism.
Without experience, states Roger Bacon Defining the principles of experimental science in this Atlas mages in around 1267.
Nothing can be sufficiently known. Knowing relies on the sensory and emotional body.
There is a lot to look at and talk through when we bring queer and trans emotions to the archive and allowed them to guide physical bodily connection.
And Sara has shown some of that already. And then I want to finish with what example taking might prompt for Mimi Tai when.
So it's a big passage and there's a lot to dig into.
And in the whole essay in which Wen discusses her move from being a queer of colour punk, speaking to our own experience of riot culture,
Terezin creation, to the incorporation of my work in those scenes into our kind of collections.
And it's important to acknowledge one's investment in the lives of people of colour in particular,
and take seriously the reminder that those lives are uniquely impacted by the shootings,
that the political and aesthetic economy renders black and brown pants sensible and traceable.
In my own area of premodern Western European history.
This is acutely true. And I do not want to claim her critique and over extend it beyond the bounds of its intended frame.
It hasn't prompted her articulation, repentance and wider reflection.
In her conception of the fractured and discontinuous history of queer of colour life,
we might locate echoes of deep Sedgwick's conception of camp as a constellation of ephemeral threat fragments and pop objects.
Here we see the discontinuous discontinuities of the queer icons,
where gaps in the record and more are more present and absent, where some communities experience more absence than others.
In her identification of queer longing for a history or record of whether or not one of us ever existed,
she opens up the case explored elsewhere in the essay.
The critical population is a tool for archival study, history, building and activism.
One that you will also see echoed in the rest of my talk without space engagement.
Quote such that the past, the disappointments can be created in the present.
But for now, I want to dwell in just a couple of phrases the capacity for feelings, for queer things.
In this case. Feelings of desire. Desire for more.
More history. More people. In this case, the truth that more queer black and brown pants existed in the Riot Girl movement.
The capacity for queer feelings to allow for the possibility of cohabitation and the potential for queer produce.
The clear feelings to produce Chen's temple community affiliations strengthen both the
reader in the present and the underrepresented race otherwise expunged lives of the past.
The possibility for those people to live together. With those considerations in mind.
My single for the day is Mass Morality for the 12th Century collection in Saints lives belonging
to the Diocese of Shrewsbury and cared for by Ashby House and Gardens in County Durham.
Little is known about the provenance of this manuscript, but a doctoral thesis by L.A. Lumet reveals the context.
It is one of a large collection of 12th and 13th century books from Cistercian monasteries in France and England to be bound in a sealskin chemise.
This fact in itself is fascinating, but there isn't time to dig into the practical theological implications of the cistercians binding choices.
Rather, what I want to suggest is the haptic experience prompted by its sealskin chemise functions
to activate the formation of queer and trans effective communities of care across time.
The contents of the Darren Book exhibit, among other things, an interest in nonbinary queer and trans and gender.
The book contains a series of hagiographic readings for the month of January,
and together with a copy of Anselm's commentary on the following epistles.
You can see the contents on the screen here in several areas,
including not all early Christian martyrs of the Roman Empire known for their asceticism,
making their presence alongside two apostate apostolic tracts.
And. But the life of the practice for youth racing in particular has received significant
scholarly attention for the gender transgressions and transformations that invites.
It is one of a number of saints lives involving the miraculous, obscuring or transforming of gender.
To avoid this heteronormative society. Societal expectations.
If binary marriage with this imitates an exemplary life in many ODIs.
The presence of the actors among the differently we attended matching Martins at the shoot.
Martins The Shrewsbury connection again poses a question about the conceptual space for
transmits within systems and communities by collating terms like models of ascetic monasticism.
But if the contents of the volume has the question, I argued the material form of the book suggests some answers.
The fairy seal skin binding content is like the skin which is made of the sensitive connective surface.
It is a site of shared touch that facilitates in carrying on insurance brands the ability to make connections across time and space.
The sensation so far beneath the fingers and it would be much softer and fuller
800 years ago than it looks and feels today enriches the handling experience.
The tactile stimulation, encourages interaction, is part of the reading process.
The shared nature of these bindings across different houses also creates the community of touch.
The 12th century monk in the life of Ireland,
Abbey in North Yorkshire will see the same bindings and have the same tactile interactions with them as a monk in style.
Nobody. Here, the shared sensory delights engendered engendered by the SOFA plays an active role in long distance, effective community formation.
Marika Sippel, when discussing the experience of finding a hair stuck to a lipstick in the archive in Victoria.
Snuggle with friends, activists and sex smoking speaks of the has the ability to, quote,
animate the documents around it to activate supporters connection to Schneider as a person, not an archival object, discomforting as that may be.
When I encountered the hands on the binding, the Shrewsbury had failed to see.
The touch I share is not with the body of an individual, but with the effective touch and reading community.
The seal skin binding was established in the warm,
smooth leather on the spine edge of the hands that had strongly held and cared for this volume during their encounters with it.
In stroking the remaining hand, I find it supported the intimate in body gestures of care.
With these actions, then I am a participant in the community of camp.
This collection of ferryboats books represents I share in this same effective communion spaces.
So could this quick collection of Saints lives indicate a space for transness in the medieval Cistercian community?
My giving my own fans the access to that affected community in material answers.
In the formative, my own church insurance the trans readership to this volume and in doing so situates trans belonging within the criminal frame.
My participation in the mechanisms of community formation through the whole thing activates the possibility and chance readings.
My recognition of the volumes trans legibility we animates potential embodied reading experiences.
So in the hopes of making lemonade out of lemons and to go on a bit longer than my allotted time in Malcolm's absence,
I just wanted to reflect a bit briefly on one way to make sense of the trans temporal,
queer and trans community that I've set up by returning to such a paranoid reading and
reparative reading in which you reflect on the nature of time in queer relations.
Speaking in part in the wake of the AIDS crisis, but specifically about relationships disrupted by,
among other things, the cancer that would eventually take place.
But also the nonlinear non-genetic lines of the descent that characterises the temporality of communities as daily routines.
This disjuncture allows the slippage across and between generations,
so that intimate relationality must spend time gaps that otherwise socially inaccessible.
I suggest the relations president in the deep time with the archives, and that included among those inaccessible time.
What difference would it make to feel the communities represented in the fragments of the queer archive with immediacy,
with the present fullness, the coming? It may be cut off by the turn of the page.
What happens when we allow that intimacy to seek to apprehend people and their company?
So.