are there any texts or films you would recommend exploring the theme of women’s desire?

Luce Irigaray—This Sex Which is Not One

Luce Irigaray—”When Our Lips Speak Together”

Carolyn Knapp–APPETITES: Why Women Want

Jade Sharma–Problems 

Chris Kraus—I Love Dick 

Anne Carson–”The Glass Essay”

Maggie Nelson—Bluets

Katherine Angel—Unmastered: A Book on Desire, Most Difficult to Tell

Kate Chopin—The Awakening 

Helene Cixous–The Laugh of the Medusa 

Anne Carson—Decreation

Charlotte Shane—”When Desire Goes Dark”

Jess Zimmerman—”Hunger Makes Me”

Kathy Acker–”-Desire: A Play in Two Parts”

Kathy Acker—Blood and Guts in High School 

Dodie Bellamy–Cunt-Ups

Dodie Bellamy–The Letters of Mina Harker

Karen Volkman—Spar

Lucie Brock-Broido—Master Letters

Maurice Pialat—A Nos Amours 

The word ‘fleisch’, in German, provokes me to an involuntary shudder. In the English language, we make a fine distinction between flesh, which is usually alive and, typically, human; and meat, which is dead, inert, animal and intended for consumption. Substitute the word ‘flesh’ in the Anglican service of Holy Communion: ‘Take, eat, this is my meat which was given for you…’ and the sacred comestible becomes the offering of something less than, rather than more than, human. ‘Flesh’ in English carries with it a whole system of human connotations and the flesh of the Son of Man cannot be animalised into meat without an inharmonious confusion of meaning. But, because it is human, flesh is also ambiguous; we are adjured to shun the world, the flesh and the Devil. Fleshly delights are lewd distractions from the contemplation of higher, that is, of spiritual, things; the pleasures of the flesh are vulgar and unrefined, even with an element of beastliness about them, although flesh tints have the sumptuous succulence of peaches because flesh plus skin equals sensuality.
But, if flesh plus skin equals sensuality, then flesh minus skin equals meat. The skin has turrned into rind, or crackling; the garden of fleshly delights becomes a butcher’s shop, or Sweeney Todd’s kitchen. My flesh encounters your taste for meat. So much the worse for me.

Angela Carter, The Sadeian Woman, 1978
(via foxesinbreeches)