(Google Translation from Swedish)
published March 31, 2016 at 09:08
“She is angry” is a furious showdown with the transnational adoption industry.
Valerie Kyeyune Backstrom golvas of the strength of Maja Lee Langvalds repeating prose.
MAJA LEE Langvad
She is angry
Translation Kristofer Folkhammar and Johanne Lykke Holm
Panache / Albert Bonniers, 240 p.
What is there to write, what is there to be angry, what is it to write on the basis of their anger? In “She’s angry ‘is the Danish author Maja Lee Langvad , or I mean the main character, she is, right there. Angry.
Angry over being adopted, angry at not being white, angry to have seen himself as white. She is angry about moving to Korea. She is angry adoptees who are angry, and she is angry adoptees who are grateful, and she is angry that she is angry.
Every sentence starts so, each new piece, like a gentle repetition, a witness, a petition, a finding. “She is angry”.
But soon disappear one’s own mental exclamation that you gladly of habit applies at the end of each sentence. Disappear makes even like to read the text at a furious pace, instead becomes the anger, the short-obvious “she is mad” a normal state. Nah sorry, it will be the only one, and then take it: what else can you be? Being angry is completely natural, it is abandoned, and when you come away from it, you can take on the text on the right. Kind of like you have to be impregnated, get used to, understand why the anger is the only way out, lulled into the state before they can attack the content fairly.
There is nothing ingenious in it because Langvad deals with one of the most delicate subjects of Western self-image: transnational adoption. A topic that seems to upset just to be touched, even more when the adoptees themselves take the right to describe their lives.
But Maja Lee Langvad does not shy away anything, not someone else’s feelings or their own. In the same way that you can read it as a contribution to an ongoing Adoption critical discourse, one can also read it as the book suggests: a testimony.
But actually it is perhaps the most one long poem.
A poem about transnational adoption, a poem about a person, but as in the specific becomes universal, true. A poem that takes you in moderation and conquer you, take over your body in moments.
And I love the physical reading, so few times a rare luxury, this duality and more who finally gets to take solid form. And these strange pages goose adoption industry through, figures are reported, the usual falsifications of identity and orphan hood to facilitate adoption, the cost of children – all the various measures taken to supply a thirsty western world where the demand for children to adopt is always greater than supply.
But it is also a dirge, an act of resistance, a survey, the first sentence is often contradicted by the next. The contradictions, contradictions also spelled out the underlying: the impossible to possess a certain type of body in this world and to just be, and to not have to be angry.
It is sometimes bleak, often heartbreaking, as often funny and text balances all the time stylish at something I believe must be called a precipice – this makes the text much more beautiful. When I put from me the feeling I first outrage that it’s over, and that she left me so abruptly, then I feel something else.
I feel hope.