<bo(d)y rendering> by A. Deshmane
Review by Eleanor Ball.
A. Deshmane’s debut chapbook <bo(d)y rendering> (kith books, 2024) is a bold and incisive exploration of the transitioning body through the lens of technology. Deftly balancing emotive confessionals and dry humor, Deshmane connects familiar technological gestures to gestures of the body and self. In “Digital Shapeshifting for Dummies,” they write “select an option from the drop-down menu. / how difficult can sculpting a self be?”, and the tottering lines of “fulcrum” open with instructions to “tap and hold to / lose any sense of / balance.” One of Deshmane’s central concerns is how much our identity formation and self-perception is mediated by technology; the equally playful and poignant piece “search history” is a screenshot of their recent Google searches, including queries like “transitioning: a step-by-step approach,” “will i eventually feel whole?” and “will i eventually feel?”
Yet throughout <bo(d)y rendering>, Deshmane continuously runs up against the rigidities of technological systems. These systems—the boundaries of drop-down menus, the border of the search bar, black box algorithms—often reproduce structures of oppression even as they are hailed as equalizers. They may even be incompatible with queerness itself: a mode of thought, expression, life, and breath that is fluid by nature and operates in the in-betweens. Deshmane explores these tensions in “i feel a bit blue.” “i feel a bit blue,” they write, “when a photo memory detailing my hips / resurfaces to my desktop [. . .] when i am reminded my email and password / no longer contain my name.” We upload so much personal information to the Internet, sometimes by choice and sometimes by necessity. This can be a double-edged sword: Technology is often utilized to surveil and oppress queer people, while (and perhaps because) it enables us to connect with each other in a darkening world. It is technology that enabled me to read Deshmane’s work, and it is technology that enables me to share my thoughts with you.
But then again, what even is technology? So far, I’ve been using the word “technology” in a colloquial, “you know it when you see it” sense: Macbooks and bluetooth and TikTok and touchscreens and the like. But that isn’t very precise. When it comes down to it, I would argue that a technology is any application of knowledge that allows something to happen. It used to be that #2 pencils and ballpoint pens didn’t exist; now they do, and it is far easier to write than it was when we only had quill pens and ink pots. That is technology. And at the culmination of <bo(d)y rendering>, Deshmane positions the queer body itself as a technology of liberation—one that both is shaped by modern technology and transcends it. In “apology OR iOS installing,” they “tore rotted wires / old code / reimagined evolving into / a boy or a body / more than this.” And finally, in “sic fieri”: “and when he pressed the power button, the / electricity of his becoming / surged into him. he was changed.”
With its ambitious scope and focused execution, <bo(d)y rendering> is an impressive debut from an emerging queer writer. I will be eagerly awaiting Deshmane’s next collection.
A. Deshmane’s debut chapbook <bo(d)y rendering> (kith books, 2024) is a bold and incisive exploration of the transitioning body through the lens of technology. Deftly balancing emotive confessionals and dry humor, Deshmane connects familiar technological gestures to gestures of the body and self. In “Digital Shapeshifting for Dummies,” they write “select an option from the drop-down menu. / how difficult can sculpting a self be?”, and the tottering lines of “fulcrum” open with instructions to “tap and hold to / lose any sense of / balance.” One of Deshmane’s central concerns is how much our identity formation and self-perception is mediated by technology; the equally playful and poignant piece “search history” is a screenshot of their recent Google searches, including queries like “transitioning: a step-by-step approach,” “will i eventually feel whole?” and “will i eventually feel?”
Yet throughout <bo(d)y rendering>, Deshmane continuously runs up against the rigidities of technological systems. These systems—the boundaries of drop-down menus, the border of the search bar, black box algorithms—often reproduce structures of oppression even as they are hailed as equalizers. They may even be incompatible with queerness itself: a mode of thought, expression, life, and breath that is fluid by nature and operates in the in-betweens. Deshmane explores these tensions in “i feel a bit blue.” “i feel a bit blue,” they write, “when a photo memory detailing my hips / resurfaces to my desktop [. . .] when i am reminded my email and password / no longer contain my name.” We upload so much personal information to the Internet, sometimes by choice and sometimes by necessity. This can be a double-edged sword: Technology is often utilized to surveil and oppress queer people, while (and perhaps because) it enables us to connect with each other in a darkening world. It is technology that enabled me to read Deshmane’s work, and it is technology that enables me to share my thoughts with you.
But then again, what even is technology? So far, I’ve been using the word “technology” in a colloquial, “you know it when you see it” sense: Macbooks and bluetooth and TikTok and touchscreens and the like. But that isn’t very precise. When it comes down to it, I would argue that a technology is any application of knowledge that allows something to happen. It used to be that #2 pencils and ballpoint pens didn’t exist; now they do, and it is far easier to write than it was when we only had quill pens and ink pots. That is technology. And at the culmination of <bo(d)y rendering>, Deshmane positions the queer body itself as a technology of liberation—one that both is shaped by modern technology and transcends it. In “apology OR iOS installing,” they “tore rotted wires / old code / reimagined evolving into / a boy or a body / more than this.” And finally, in “sic fieri”: “and when he pressed the power button, the / electricity of his becoming / surged into him. he was changed.”
With its ambitious scope and focused execution, <bo(d)y rendering> is an impressive debut from an emerging queer writer. I will be eagerly awaiting Deshmane’s next collection.
Eleanor Ball is a queer writer from Des Moines, Iowa. Her essays and criticism have appeared with ANMLY, ballast, Broken Antler, fifth wheel press, Write or Die, and other publications. Find her on Twitter @aneleanorball and Bluesky @eleanorball.bsky.social.