• Publisher: ŠKUC
• Original title: Roko razje

The fragmented, ragged syntax in eats away the hand may be understood as very ac- curate thinking. As a »crawling« speaker. As her attempt at a dialogue with nonhu- man beings. Pushing against the possibilities of speaking to them and about them. And constant catching of breath from the strain of these attempts. Catching breath as a rhythm. Here there is no agonising over the impossibility of such a task, just the extreme urgent necessity of making it possible. Although the manner of this stren- uous work is linguistic, due to the nature of the medium, this language does not fit the usual metaphor of voice. This language works with hands, which are gushing in, digging, uprooting, poking, bringing, putting down, taking, catching, beating, wrap- ping, burying, scratching, chiselling, touching, pushing, holding, protecting, as well as vacuuming, folding, moving, caressing and, finally, hurting from all this »handling«. It seems the only thing the hands never do is rest. Perhaps the question here is not so much whose or which hands are these, but rather what is the thing they are reaching for all the time. The answer could be literally at hand – in a fist and on the fingers, in a kind of invocation of hand-ness itself: »there where hands.« Either in a passionate lesbian relationship, in dealings with animals and plants, in becoming soil as a fruit farmer, or in a costermonger’s relationship with the parents and death: in her furious earthy book debut, Liponik is »the tongue and the hand and all«. – Uroš Prah