Vignettes

Next semester, I’ll be finishing my Bachelor’s – in anthropology, for those new to the blog – and I have to do a major project and write a so-called Bachelor’s essay, even though it’s more like a mini-thesis; i.e. it should be research based. I’m constantly considering my options, and in doing so, I’ve got to thinking a lot about what anthropology is as a science and scholarly discipline and what it can contribute to the world. And what people write on the walls of public toilets.
Anthropology used to be the study of far-flung peoples outside Europe and the United States – or at least outside the dominant cultural sphere. Even though anthropology always has had (and should have, I guess) aspirations … perhaps even pretensions … of being a general science of Man, it’s gaze has unwaveringly focused on the bizarre, the obscure, the marginal, the exotic, barbaric and Other. Anthropology grew from studying exactly the peoples considered to be all these things. This has not changed. I believe it was Prof. Kirsten Hastrup, former head of the anthropology dept. at the University of Copenhagen, who mentioned anthropologists finding the common-place in the exotic and the exotic in the common-place. It might be a general anthropological maxim, but describes the anthropologists’ eyes quite well. It would seem the idea is that by studying the obscure and even deviant – when the rules and expectations are broken – those very rules, that rendered the object of inquiry as it is, are exposed and can be examined. This parallels psychologists’ use of pathological cases for the general study of the mind, linguists’ questioning why a particular phrasing is ungrammatical and anatomists’ observation of a dissected body. And in the act of description lies comparison – if I describe a certain people as matrilineal, that statement only makes sense because others – like my own – aren’t, which offers interesting perspectives on the project of describing social and cultural aspects in general. What may I study? What makes sense to study, and what does the act of reframing something in terms of ‘object of inquiry’ rather than, in the case I’m going to study, ‘obscene toilet grafitti’?

Yes, obscene toilet grafitti or, as it’s properly known, latrinalia. Anthropology is ill-equipped to deal with macrolevel phenomena, but we’d like to produce results that are generalizable or at least reveal general truths by analogy. How do we do this, when our very discipline urges us to study the obscure? The case of latrinalia is excellent for this, I think, being the most obscure of the obscure forms of cultural production.

Several people seem to have studied the phenomenon, based on my very unscientific Google search, and have noted that the most prevalent topics are things such as racist, sexist or otherwise politically unacceptable statements, impromptu classifieds, sexual explicits, often crudely illustrated. I myself have also noticed attempts at puns, political campaigning (An anti-’pakkoruotsi‘ [term for mandatory Swedish in Finnish schools] tag can be seen in the mens’ room at UniCafé on Mannerheimintie, for those interested), random illustrations of for instance various animals and then of course a good share of vandalism ranging from scratches made with a key or other rather blunt edge or cigarette burns.

What is characteristic of all of this, or of the practice in itself? First of all, it’s not allowed. This means that any minor tagging or inscription – wholesome, blasphemous, lewd or witty – already takes place outside the range of socially acceptable behavior. Once the rule – Don’t Write On Toilet Stall Walls! – is transgressed, further transgressions are seemingly deemed relatively minor, i.e. it doesn’t make much difference whether you’ve quoted the Bible or made a cartoon of your privates… In this situation, must people just go with it and write something obscene*. It’s rather like chocolates or eating other peoples’ candy – if you’ve already broken the rule and had some, you probably won’t just take one. Criminals are probably also more likely to commit a series of crimes closely related – once you’ve breached the wall of legality, e.g. by murdering a bank security guard during a robbery, you might as well steal a car and try to get away. Anyway, back to latrinalia.

This inherently illicit genre begets equally illicit writings on inapproprate topics. What people then choose to write about, after they’ve shed the mantle of appropriateness, reveals a bit about our values, albeit in the negative: People seem to write what they’re not allowed to say. The temptation do so is probably also related to the nature of the typical public toilet – it’s private, hidden away from the eyes of others (except, perhaps for your legs), yet still public in that a multitude of other people answering the call of Nature have used and will use the very same spot the ‘writer’ occupies. This fact is obviously not ignored by the many who choose to answer prior ‘postings’, ask questions of or make recommendations to future toilet booth users.

Thus, studying latrinalia can tell us something about how acceptable and non-acceptable opinions work and are expressed; about what values and rules exist in society and about people’s perceptions of the private and the public. The possibilities for comparison are also ripe – how do, for instance, men and women’s latrinalia differ? Or that of inhabitants of liberal democracies vs. authoritarian states? Do Chinese people criticize the government in the privacy of a toilet stall? How, in general, are people able to express divergent – or even deviant – opinions, sentiments and desires…?

(pause)

… Damn it. No toilet paper left.