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THE HARVEST

Valentina Abenavoli

£28.00

A book written and edited by Valentina Abenavoli.
“It is the first spark, a glimmer of assumptions, the shivering and the craving. Love arrives as nothing new, except every time it does, foolishly.” Empathy is an imaginative projection of the other, a psychological identification, not an emotional reaction. Starting from this assumption, and following the previous book Anaesthesia in which the concept of empathy is analysed as collective experience, The Harvest takes on stake the private realm, the most intimate experience with another, the act of sex and the act of love. In the unfolding of the process from falling to being in love, disguising the objectification of the other and the unbalanced power that occurs mutually in the couple, The Harvest is built like a play: the person who speaks, the person who acts, the person who experiences, and the reader, are interchangeable. The Harvest is the second chapter of an unfinished trilogy.

Hard cover
140 pages
10.5 x 14.8 cm
Black and Pearl Grey paper Winter & Company
Silver printing
Text written by Valentina Abenavoli
Original Prints from a private pornographic archive, bought in Istanbul

Available also in Collectors’ Edition 

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Product Description

“The circle. In which there is absolutely nothing. And everything. The circle, unsurprisingly, is all about possessing edges and yet, surprisingly, there is no edge in a circle.

Imagine the moment just before the moment when someone meets someone else for the first time. Where the indecisiveness in choosing the next move takes a while; a nice cup of cramping emotions must be absorbed, willingly or unwillingly.

In a couple of seconds they will tell their names to each other and will shake hands. Maybe they will kiss each other on the cheeks. Maybe there is a distance between them and they will only wave to each other over a crowd, without touching.

But they have not met yet. Right now, at this very long indecisive moment, these two people, without their knowledge, are thinking about how they should collaborate to meet each other. They both know they need to find a common way but how? And it is strange to have a common point already, isn’t it? But that’s fine. So how should they represent themselves at that collective moment? How far will they need to travel from themselves through the other, for the sake of meeting? They don’t know, yet.

So they should embark on a blurry survey since accommodation of the eye takes time. The survey’s path is furnished with different materials that do not meet the eyes. Leaping is necessary since there may be some abysses on the way. The ground is not rigid. Maneuvers must be chosen carefully at this very heavy pinch of time.

Is one of them sitting down and the other is standing? Who is going to be the quicker to stand up or to bend down? Do they seem to be making an attempt to have an eye contact or not?

Keeping up with the blurry survey gets harder. More questions begin to arise. It is overwhelming. They realize they risk losing their grip. Someone must make a move now or say something. And suddenly one of them says: “Hi.”

Recognition is relieving. What follows next is still unknown but at least they do not need to leap anymore. Gratitude. Does one of them smile or not? Does the other one smile back or not? The other one replies with a similar word but in a subjective manner, stretching out the hand, finally, there is a small room for a physical contact that may bring this clumsy hassle to an end. Then they won’t need to speak. When they touch each other they will know. Just like giraffes necking. Dolphins whistling. Or elephants wrapping up their trunks to each other.

The handshake. Vibrating cells trying to transmit the information. The two hands immediately begin to catch their average warmth. They are swaying in the air a couple of times. And here it is; the tangent point of existences. It may be soft, it may be sweaty, it may be cold, it may be tight. Doesn’t matter.

The pinch becomes a smack by this recognition. They are hit now. They even smelt each other but there is no proper definition for these odors. The silent agreement is signed. Of two formerly perfect strangers.”
Ilgin Deniz Akseloglu

Que le dehors n’est pas, et qu’ainsi il est dehors –ainsi il me met hors de moi- voilà l’expérience du plaisir.
That the outside is not, and that thus it is outside –so it puts me out of me- here is the experience of pleasure.
Jean Luc Nancy