Blood on the Street
The wound represents an entry into the body which is made by something that can never be a part of that body. It will always be foreign to our flesh, and as such it constitutes a technological assault upon the body. Its effects are extraordinary: the wound is the most terrifying expression of violence, and yet it also represents intimacy, an awakening of the senses and the acquisition of sudden knowledge. From the ecstasies of saints revealed as stigmata to the forensic scrutiny of modern crime scenes, the wound communicates more than just another opening of the human body. On the darkened streets of the city – itself once a metaphor used by eighteenth-century anatomists to describe what goes on beneath our skin – the wound speaks of crime, madness, delirium and a total loss of identity. Or to put it another way, what kind of stories could we possibly tell each other without also breaking our own flesh?
Joining me in the clean room, handing out sutures and gauze for episode nine of ‘Hollingsville’ – scheduled to go out live 7.00 pm on Thursday June 10 on Resonance 104.4 FM – will be cultural pathologist supreme Ross MacFarlane of the Wellcome Library and Cathi Unsworth, author of fabulous London-based crime novels The Not Knowing, The Singer and Bad Penny Blues, as well as being editor of the anthology London Noir: Capital Crime Fiction. Be on the qui-vive for gimlet-eyed observations and flinty asides. Interludes for this particular episode come courtesy of the masterful UnicaZürn with background moods from ‘Hollingsville’ composer in residence Graham Massey and ins and outs by Indigo Octagon.
See also:
Hollingsville Posts
Morphology of the Wound
Pictured above: Dark entry on a Vienna side street
The wound represents an entry into the body which is made by something that can never be a part of that body. It will always be foreign to our flesh, and as such it constitutes a technological assault upon the body. Its effects are extraordinary: the wound is the most terrifying expression of violence, and yet it also represents intimacy, an awakening of the senses and the acquisition of sudden knowledge. From the ecstasies of saints revealed as stigmata to the forensic scrutiny of modern crime scenes, the wound communicates more than just another opening of the human body. On the darkened streets of the city – itself once a metaphor used by eighteenth-century anatomists to describe what goes on beneath our skin – the wound speaks of crime, madness, delirium and a total loss of identity. Or to put it another way, what kind of stories could we possibly tell each other without also breaking our own flesh?
Joining me in the clean room, handing out sutures and gauze for episode nine of ‘Hollingsville’ – scheduled to go out live 7.00 pm on Thursday June 10 on Resonance 104.4 FM – will be cultural pathologist supreme Ross MacFarlane of the Wellcome Library and Cathi Unsworth, author of fabulous London-based crime novels The Not Knowing, The Singer and Bad Penny Blues, as well as being editor of the anthology London Noir: Capital Crime Fiction. Be on the qui-vive for gimlet-eyed observations and flinty asides. Interludes for this particular episode come courtesy of the masterful UnicaZürn with background moods from ‘Hollingsville’ composer in residence Graham Massey and ins and outs by Indigo Octagon.
See also:
Hollingsville Posts
Morphology of the Wound
Pictured above: Dark entry on a Vienna side street
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