It’s a question that sparks the imagination, isn't it? The idea of shapeshifting – of transforming our very form, like a mythical creature or a character in a fantastical tale. But when we strip away the magic and delve into the realm of reality, what does it really mean to 'shapeshift'? Is it even possible?
When I first encountered the concept in relation to contemporary literature, it wasn't about literal, physical metamorphosis. Instead, it was about a profound internal fluidity, a reimagining of identity. Take, for instance, Maria Borio's collection of poems, Transparencies. The translator, Danielle Pieratti, notes how Borio presents a self that is "genderless, morphable—the I becomes you becomes we becomes they." This isn't about sprouting wings or growing scales; it's about the dissolution of rigid boundaries around who we are, allowing for a more expansive, interconnected sense of self. The poems themselves seem to embody this, playing with perception, technology, and the very fabric of existence, where "the self presents itself as genderless, morphable." It’s a kind of psychological shapeshifting, where the internal landscape is as fluid and changeable as the external world.
Then there's Jente Posthuma's novel, What I’d Rather Not Think About. Translated by Sarah Timmer Harvey, the story delves into the aftermath of losing a twin. The narrator, who has always seen herself as "one-half," grapples with a fractured sense of self. This isn't a physical transformation, but a deep, emotional and existential one. The novel explores "the complexities of our most intimate relationships" and "the intricate aspects of our selfhoods—how we are with one another." Here, shapeshifting is about the profound ways our identities are shaped, challenged, and even broken by loss and connection, forcing us to reconfigure who we are in the absence of what (or who) we once were.
So, while we might not be able to physically change our form at will, the human capacity for internal transformation is immense. We shapeshift through experiences, through relationships, through the stories we tell ourselves and others. We adapt, we evolve, we redefine our boundaries. It's a subtler, perhaps more profound, kind of shapeshifting – one that happens not in a flash of magic, but in the quiet, persistent unfolding of life itself. It’s about the way our understanding of ourselves can morph and change, becoming something new, something different, yet still undeniably us.
