A Poetics - of and for - Ruthann Robson

Where is one to begin talking about the work that Ruthann Robson has given us over these past twenty years? What one would like, in beginning, is to achieve a moment of real clarity. There may be fog encountered along the way (some of our own doing, maybe Robson’s), but it’s good to get the feel of the road we’re traveling, know the route we’re taking, and begin with the sense that we’ll eventually get to where we want to go. While clarity may be a great prize, at times we might have to accept momentarily some confusion. We (lawyer/academics) may aim for clarity; our students will tell us that we also traffic in obscurity. In the 1980s and 90s I did a great deal of traveling, seeking out the world’s remote places where I could find tribal people. In those years of travel, I never felt more dislocated and lost than the day in Ecuador when, after a long day’s bus ride, my travels only beginning, I got off the bus I picked up in Quito and learned that thieves had stolen my bag from atop the bus. Foolishly and mistakenly, I had placed both my Lonely Planet Guide to Ecuador and my Spanish/English language dictionary in the bag that went atop the bus rather than in the small bag I carry. I was reminded of this loss, and its effect on my state of mind and my travels in Ecuador, as I set out to read Ruthann Robson. Early on, it dawned on me— I’ve got no Lonely Planet Guide to the Writings of Ruthann Robson. I wonder whether Ruthann, over the years, has not experienced something akin to the sense of loss and disorientation I experienced in Ecuador, as she set about to write her own guide book, Lesbian (Out)Law: Survival Under the Rule of Law, a guide to places many of her readers had never been. I refer to Professor Robson as Ruthann. My use of her first name is a reflection of the fact that Ruthann has befriended many, including the author of these remarks. It would be both unfriendly and a forced effort at disingenuous distancing to call her anything but Ruthann.