Manon Parent and Alma Palacios have been fixated on the author, actress, and resistance fighter Goliarda Sapienza for years. Autobiography of Contradictions (5-7 December 2025, Dock11) is a homage to her.
The work of Sicilian Goliarda Sapienza was discovered late. The first I heard of her was from my mother, also born in southern Italy, who enjoys recounting novels to me on the phone. I remember from her account of Sapienza’s prison diary that the author was sent to jail for stealing expensive jewelry from a friend. My mother’s voice was filled with a sort of excitement about this theft. Having come from a poor family and risen to the middle class, she never cast off her Robin Hood-esque mentality. She feels like stealing from the rich is a corrective justice of sorts.
Why am I sharing this story even though Manon Parent and Alma Palacios completely omit this and other biographical details and content from Sapienza’s book from their piece? There is an interesting inherent contradiction: those who steal cause harm. But do those who harm those who cause harm themselves do something good? It is not an easy question to answer. On the contrary, it offers a glimpse into a kaleidoscope of ethical debates. Sapienza was considering the title Autobiography of Contradictions for her unfinished memoirs. That is now the name of Parent and Palacios’ performance, in which scenes are lined up like double-edged swords.
A performance in bulging ruffled dresses. With loud and fervent breathing, the two women chase each other across the stage, hunting, catching, and entangling themselves in balls of fabric and limbs. At times this joining of bodies appears sensual. And then in the next moment it is brutal, like a tackle during which I fear one of them will suffocate. Stripped down to their underwear, the two scream out a chorus of embarrassing accusations at one another. In response to “You are birdbrained!” and “You’ve got a yeast infection!” comes a violent tirade of threats and promises, which I can easily imagine are quotes from intrusive bosses, film producers, husbands, gynecologists, etc.
Meanwhile, I’m turning to stone. The ensuing compliments directed at the audience are no help. I am happy not to be praised in front of everyone else for the lovely sway of my jaw. I sense danger. When a banana, praised for its perfect shape, is subsequently – how shall I put it? – killed, devoured, and raped on stage, my fears are confirmed. I am saddened by the beauty of a skeleton being extolled. And the fact that this skeleton, along with the one it carried in its arms, is ultimately buried under the skirt of its disparate twin is no comfort to me, contrary to what may have been intended. Instead, I see it as yet another act of intrusive assimilation.
This now sounds like a negative critique. The truth is: I am disturbed and still unsure whether I should find what I perceived as a reproduction of an all too familiar fine line between desire and violence inspired or repulsive. This work, which does not shy away from this contradiction, is certainly brave.
English translation by Melissa Maldonado
Autobiography of Contradictions, by Manon Parent and Alma Palacios, was shown from 5-7 December 2025 at Dock11.
