Opacity as poetic antidote
embracing and honoring complexity and the unknown as a revolutionary practice.
There is currently an offer to get 15% off a paid subscription for WAVES, which essentially supports the continuation of this work. If you feel called and can afford it, here it is, enjoy today’s sensorial essay!
“Opacity is a revolutionary practice”
Nabil Echchaibi
Around 2000 feet below the surface of the sea, lives an elusive bioluminescent creature that we still know very little about. This deep-sea creature, among the largest invertebrates on Earth, dwells at significant depths in the ocean and is rarely seen alive in its natural habitat. I’m talking about the Giant Squid.
Despite being the subject of scientific curiosity for centuries, much about the giant squid remains elusive and shrouded in mystery. The giant squid's enormous size, complex nervous system, bioluminescence, hunting methods, and adaptation to extreme ocean depths present a level of opacity in our understanding of these creatures. Their habitat in the deep ocean makes direct observation difficult, and until relatively recently, encountering a live giant squid in its natural environment was extremely rare. Most of what was known about these creatures came from studying specimens that washed ashore or were accidentally caught by fishermen.
Even with technological advancements which helped scientists discover more about this obscure animal, many aspects of their behavior, feeding habits, reproduction, and daily life remain a mystery. Many questions about their biology and behavior remain unanswered. All the videos and narratives that I have come across regarding the giant squid reveal a sort of annoyance from the humans that this creature remains not fully known. This majestic being has been featured in stories as a monster and devil, showing the way humans tend to vilify what doesn’t make itself known to them.
The Giant Squid reminds me of Martinican poet Edouard Glissant’s insistence that “we demand the right to opacity”. This revolutionary deep-sea creature exists outside of the frames that humans would like to place on it.
Glissant’s essay For Opacity, part of Poetics of Relation, takes opacity as an ethical stance against colonialism, imperial conquest and domination. Glissant’s work theorizes specifically through post-colonial conditions in Martinique, but his call to opacity is relevant today more than ever. The last few years have exposed just how much we are still stuck in systems that are rooted in colonialist principles, exacerbated by the rise of capitalism and patriarchy. Glissant refers to opacity as a celebration of diversity, a tearing down of hierarchical and totalitarian structures, he says “Accepting differences does, of course, upset the hierarchy of this scale. I understand your difference but perhaps we need to bring an end to the very notion of a scale. Displace all reductions”. He asks that we agree not only to our right to difference but to our right to opacity, “Opacities can coexist and converge, weaving fabrics” he says.
I resonate deeply with his language and even find some comfort in it. The other day I was in the Ecological Approach to Masculinity workshop that I am facilitating, and realised something I hadn’t before. When I speak of binaries and try to force a concept into a specific structure, my body tenses (it is actually tensing right now as I write these words), but when I speak of holding multitudes, of existing in the cracks and in the unknown, my body becomes relaxed. Opacity feels more natural than indulging in absolute truths, in fact, it distracts me from it. “Humans are fractal by nature, “says Glissant “If we become conscious of this and give up trying to reduce such behaviours to the obviousness or a transparency, this will, perhaps, contribute to lightening their load, as every individual begins not grasping his motivations, taking himself apart in this manner.”
The idea of being able to dance with the nuances of an issue makes the journey to change feel softer. “The opaque is not the obscure, though it is possible for it to be, and be accepted as such,” says Glissant. And it is in this dance that I want my writing to exist, not in providing answers, not in reducing all concepts to certain solutions, but in navigating these murky waters. Discussing issues like feminism and social justice requires us to accept difference and diversity, there are too many layers involved especially when we approach such things through the lens of intersectionality. And here I would invite you to think of intersectionality as an opacity of sorts. Recently in an interview, Minna Salami discussed the importance of accepting diversity in the feminist movement. Feminists are often not taken seriously because they lack “a common agenda” or “cannot seem to agree”, and Salami argues that “the fact is, we do not have to. We do not need to have the same feminist politics on every issue. But we do need to be aware of – and critically engage with – each other’s work, I think.”
Opacity is that which protects diversity, it rises stoically against whiteness (refer here to see what I mean by whiteness), embraces the unknown, celebrates multitudes, and teaches to hold all of them.
Recently, I have become more and more tired of the Euro-centric and US-centric narratives that navigate media and culture. So much of cultural critique has either a US or Euro-centric lens, and I think we need to work away from that. Much of my thinking and work has been influenced by the decolonial theories of thinkers like Wangai Maathai, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o, and now Glissant, whose work I want to get deeper and deeper into. By all means, I am European, and this is the context I exist in, but this context is also tainted with a colonial past, and present, and an obsession with growth that I feel is detrimental to human serenity.
I recently wrote an essay called Stained Milk, where I analyse our obsession with purity and whiteness as the root of many of our systemic issues. I had not come across Glissant’s brilliant work then, and I am grateful for the ever-changing nature of my work. I love that a piece of writing is never really finished, that what I write are not absolute truths but perhaps pieces of opaque thoughts.
I want to conclude this week’s thought with an excerpt from Right to Opacity where Glissant exemplifies how to defend opacity in the face of pigeonholing:
“And now what they tell me is “You calmly pack your poetics into these crates of opacity and claim to rise so serenely beyond the prodigiously elucidating work that the West has accomplished, but here you go talking non stop about this West —- “And what would you rather I talk about at the beginning if not this transparency whose aim was to reduce us? Because if I don’t begin there, you will see me confused with the sullen jabber of childish refusal, convulsive and powerless. This is where I start. As for my identity, I’ll take care of that myself”.
How would it look like if we infused our daily existence with opacity? when discussing politics, our bodies, when approaching someone with a different opinion than you or when we fight with our loved ones?
I hope you enjoyed the read. If you are new here, we have an embodiment practice for every essay for paying subscribers. Below, you can find a 20-minute embodiment practice for opacity, music and reading recommendations for the weekend.