DENICE BOURBON

Insights from Denice Bourbon’s Confronting Realities notebook

 

Die Erinnerung an das Silvester 1989/1990: it‘s exactly the new years which I CAN‘T remember.
I remember 90/91 (jönköping with those gorgeous fake nails) and 88/89: first christmas and new years without anne.
She died december 2. I remember 91/92: crazy house party an jenny‘s. I didn‘t drink (??).

 

Stream of conciousness. – who is really interested in listening to that.
it‘s like memoires and people going on about their childhood forever.
„I was not like other kids“ – nobody was ever like other kids.
I hate that.

 

How I always hated when my mom did her „stoic brave“ skit. The „life is hard but we manage“.
She was such a bad actress. So am I. And I do the same skit as her.
Oh how I have always loved to look at the bourgoisie. To watch it. Them.

 

write about Lea, the factories, mothers strong workers hands with the long stone hard nails.
I thought they were beautiful. My mom and lea doing the same thing with their hands.
Of course we inherit memories in the same way as we inherit eigenschaften.

 

Remember to document everything: tonaunfnahmen, diary, notes, photos etc etc.

 

how do you darstellen social class?

 

talks with jenni about class finland and how social skills are crucial.
Who is allowed to be loud? Who is allowed to be quiet.
(men should not be quiet. it‘s not manly to whisper)
upper class women quiet. Upper class men should have a baryton voice.
Schnittstelle → class → racism → sexism

 

I‘ve just always been so obsessed with the poverty.
But I have a different way of remembering things now.

 

What happened to me and my biography when going through all this.
How it became apparent how little I do remember. Who I remember.
How I remember. Who changed, what happened, what people were thinking.
The tough girl, that mean boy, magnus svensson who got stabbed in the ass.
How I changed my opinion and memory after what the others described.
Seeing the photos, how people look at them fondly, and I just get shivers down my spine.

 

How food was such a symbol: canned fruit in the cupboard.
Our fridge was always empty.
How they just kept filling up the förråd i orpington
för att de hade en weekly list.de kollade inte ens vad som var där.
Cheese as status.

 

That mom baking bread meant poor

 

Vacations. Who went where. Who had one.
„we are going to our countryside“ – there is no such word as countryside being a specific place.
It would be like saying we are going to our nature.

 

Nothing was spent for culture. All focused on sports. (football)
there was nobody from my school who was in the football team.
Or in any sport teams really. The boys didn‘t have a chance. The girls didn‘t have a chance.

 

It‘s very much like edouard louis,
but when he speaks from the perspective of an effeminate boy,
I speak from the perspective of a loud big fat girl.