Queerstory

Alan Turing is misschien wel één van de belangrijkste mensen uit de Tweede Wereldoorlog. Toch is hij na de Tweede Wereldoorlog schandalig behandeld omdat hij homoseksueel was. Ik praat met Jens Bosman over Alans leven, zijn seksualiteit en zijn behandeling na de Tweede Wereldoorlog.

Emily Dickinson was een Amerikaanse dichter uit de 19e eeuw. Tegenwoordig staat ze vooral bekend als een eenzame kluizenaar, maar Emily was zo veel meer dan dit. Ze zat vol met liefde voor haar vrienden en familie, en in het bijzonder voor haar beste vriendin en schoonzus, Susan. Of Emily en Susan een relatie hadden, kom je in deze aflevering van Queerstory achter, waarin ik samen met componist Ymkje de Boer de gedichten van Emily analyseer. De cello wordt gespeeld door Heleen Wabeke en de zang wordt gedaan door Ymkje de Boer en Miek Smilde.  Gebruikte gedichten: I died for beauty I died for beauty, but was scarce adjusted in the tomb, when one who died for truth was lain in an adjoining room. He questioned softly why I failed? "For beauty," I replied. "And I for truth, -the two are one; we brethren are," he said. And so, as kinsmen met a night, we talked between the rooms, until the moss had reached our lips,  and covered up our names There's been a death in the opposite house There's been a death in the opposite house  as lately as to-day.  I know it by the numb look  such houses have alway.  The neighbors rustle in and out,  the doctor drives away.  A window opens like a pod,  abrupt, mechanically;  Somebody flings a mattress out,--  the children hurry by;  they wonder if It died on that,--  I used to when a boy.  The minister goes stiffly in  as if the house were his,  and he owned all the mourners now,  and little boys besides;  and then the milliner,  and the man of the appalling trade,  to take the measure of the house.  There'll be that dark parade  of tassels and of coaches soon;  it's easy as a sign,--  the intuition of the news  in just a country town.

In deze aflevering behandel ik de Amerikaanse dichter Walt Whitman, die vooral bekend staat om zijn seksuele gedichten en zijn gedichten over mannelijke liefde. Voor wie schreef Walt deze gedichten? Samen met Roland Bruijn, docent Culture aan Windesheim, praat ik over Walts leven en zijn poëzie. De besproken gedichten: Song of Myself, sectie 1 I celebrate myself, and sing myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you. I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass. My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this air, Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same, I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin, Hoping to cease not till death. Creeds and schools in abeyance, Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten, I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard, Nature without check with original energy. A Woman waits for me I am stern, acrid, large, undissuadable, but I love you, I do not hurt any more than is necessary for you, I pour the stuff to start sons and daughters fit for these states, I press with slow rude muscle I brace myself effectually, I listen to no entreaties, I dare not withdraw till I deposit what has so long accumulated within me Once I pass'd through a populous City Once I pass'd through a populous city imprinting my brain for future use with its shows, architecture, customs, traditions, Yet now of all that city I remember only a woman I casually met there who detain'd me for love of me, Day by day and night by night we were together—all else has long been forgotten by me, I remember I say only that woman who passionately clung to me, Again we wander, we love, we separate again, Again she holds me by the hand, I must not go, I see her close beside me with silent lips sad and tremulous. Whoever you are, holding me now in Hand Or, if you will, thrusting me beneath your clothing, Where I may feel the throbs of your heart, or rest upon your hip, Carry me when you go forth over land or sea; For thus, merely touching you, is enough—is best, And thus, touching you, would I silently sleep and be carried eternally. I dreamed in a Dream I dreamed in a dream, I saw a city invincible to the attacks of the whole of the rest of the earth; I dream'd that was the new City of Friends; Nothing was greater there than the quality of robust love—it led the rest; It was seen every hour in the actions of the men of that city, And in all their looks and words.

In deze aflevering van Queerstory, heb ik het over Eleanor Roosevelt en haar relatie met journaliste Lorena Hickok. Ik praat hierover met Koen Uffing, historicus en schrijver van de blog Pinkerness.  Gebruikte brieven in de aflevering: "Hick darling, All day I've thought of you & another birthday I will be with you, & yet tonite you sounded so far away & formal. Oh! I want to put my arms around you. I ache to hold you close. Your ring is a great comfort to me. I look at it and think she does love me, or I wouldn't be wearing it." “Tonight it’s one day nearer you. Only eight more days. Twenty-four hours from now it will be just seven more.” Good night, dear one. I want to put my arms around you and kiss you at the corner of your mouth. And in a week, I shall!” "I never meant to hurt you in any way, but that is no excuse having done it . . . I am pulling back from all my contacts now . . . Such cruelty & stupidity is unpardonable when you reach my age." “Hick, my dearest, I cannot go to bed tonight without a word to you. I felt a little as though a part of me was leaving tonight. You have grown so much to be a part of my life that it is empty without you. How good it was to hear your voice. It was so inadequate to try and tell you what it meant. Funny was that I couldn’t say je t'aime and je t'adore as I longed to do, but always remember that I am saying it, that I go to sleep thinking of you. I’ve been trying to bring back your face to remember just how you look. Funny how even the dearest face will fade away in time. Most clearly, I remember your eyes with a kind of teasing smile in them and the feeling of that soft spot just northeast of the corner of your mouth against my lips.” “Hick, darling, Remember one thing always. No one is just what you are to me. I'd rather be with you this minute than anyone else and yet I love many other people and some often can do things for me probably better than you could, but I never enjoyed being with anyone the way I enjoy being with you. I couldn't bear to think of you crying yourself to sleep. Oh, how I wanted to put my arms around you in reality instead of in spirit. I went and kissed your photograph instead. Oh, dear one. It is all the little things, tones in your voice, the feel of your hair, gestures, these are the things I think about and long for.”

In deze eerste aflevering van Queerstory, heb ik het over onze eigen koning Willem II. De man die de grondwetswijziging van 1848 ondertekende. Werd hij hiertoe gechanteerd? Onderhield hij relaties met mannen? Dat en nog veel meer kun je luisteren in deze aflevering. Composities: Michiel Schreuders Mix: Arjan van Tricht

Welkom bij Queerstory! In deze podcast-serie behandel ik LHBT+ personen uit de geschiedenis. Blijf vooral luisteren als je meer wilt weten over de queer history.