Scalapino’s alternative ways of seeing
‘Seeing’ is not separate from being action and these are only the process of
the text / one’s mind phenomena.
– Scalapino1
To write as continually undercutting the writing’s own basis, unsustained
by the continual constructing in it of its structure or sound even. […] To
risk even inertia ‘to see what’s there.’
– Scalapino2
Leslie Scalapino’s multi-generic,3 highly experimental writing fiercely resists
categorisations. Though most often associated with the West Coast contingent of the
Language poetry movement, Scalapino herself was always suspicious of social and
political groupings in which hierarchies formed – of which she felt the Language
movement to be an example.4 From the appearance of her first published collection, O
and Other Poems,5 Scalapino’s writing exhibited the desire to move beyond the
binary categorisations and attendant aspects of hierarchical categorization embedded
in Western rationalistic thought which, her work points out, dominate contemporary
living in a pervasive, if virtually unseen fashion: ‘Invisible, not that they’re not real,
actions occur so that one’s seeing has to change to be realistic.’6
1
Scalapino, The Public World / Syntactically Impermanence (Hanover, N.H.: Wesleyan University
Press, 1999), 8. Hereafter: The Public World.
2
Scalapino, R-hu (Hip’s Road: Atelos Press, 2000), 119.
3
Scalapino produced poetry, prose-poetry, detective novels, secret autobiographies, comic books,
serial writing, experimental theatre pieces, and numerous collections of essay-poetics. She also
illustrated much of her work with photographs, drawings and visual art by others.
4
I have written elsewhere about this, e.g. ‘Dilemmatic Boundaries’ in Intercapillary Space (November
2006) and '[D]oubts, Complications and Distractions': Rethinking the Role of Women in Language
Poetry', Hot Gun! 1 (Summer 2009).
5
Scalapino, O and Other Poems (Washington: Sand Dollar Press, 1976).
6
Scalapino, The Front Matter, Dead Souls (Hanover, N.H.: Wesleyan U.P., 1996), 45.
Drawing on her personal experiences of, and familiarity with, radically different,
especially Buddhist modes of thinking, such as those of the ancient Nāgārjuna’s
‘Middle Way,’7 Scalapino’s work attempts to challenge, by inhibiting, deforming and
‘out-racing’ normative, Western patterns of reading, perceiving and thinking, as they
are culturally constructed, and thus culturally construct us; as she told Lyn Hejinian
and Dee Adalaide Morris: ‘Continual conceptual rebellion is a means of outrunning
the forces that would re-form (conventionalize) one. If you stay in one place too long
you'll be taken over – either by your own fixating ideas or by those of others, either of
which can immobilize and re-form you.’8 Scalapino’s work pays attention to such
constructions at all levels, down to the most minute: semantically, of course, but also
visually, syntactically, phonetically and, in places, phonemically because, in the
writer’s view, social and cultural fixings occur even at the smallest levels:
One is going to have to dismantle all minute events – in one – as being out
there [in the adult oneself], that being imperialism only in a child ‘there’ ‘one’
as one now.9
Scalapino’s belief that we live in a culture of ‘psychic imperialism’10 in the West,
where patterns of conceptual domination and repression are fortified the more one is
exposed to them, is what is being alluded to in this short passage. The writer’s aim to
dismantle the language in which such repression is maintained, to return to a childlike innocence (an idea that draws on Buddhist themes)11 is reflected both in the
content and the form of the extract. Her sentences are generally so lengthy and
Acharya Nāgārjuna, The Fundamental Wisdom of the Middle Way: Mulamadhyamakakarika (NY and
Oxford: O.U.P, 1995).
8
Lyn Hejinian, ‘Figuring Out’, How2 journal, 1, 7 (Spring 2002).
9
Scalapino, Zither & Autobiography (Connecticut: Wesleyan U.P., 2003), 55-56.
10
Scalapino, The Public World, 5.
11
Cf. D. T. Suzuki, ‘Innocence and Knowledge,’ in Thomas Merton’s Zen and the Birds of Appetite
(NY: New Directions, 1968), 112.
7
grammatically complex, inclusive of many sub-clauses, in an effort to try to convey
the sense that everything is happening simultaneously, and that there is a connection
between having to dismantle minute – small, but also temporal: minute by minute? –
events ‘out there’ in the world, and those events affecting ‘the adult oneself’ ‘now.’
These sub-clauses appear between em dashes as well as square brackets. The term
‘sub-clause’ may itself however be misleading, as Scalapino in no way regarded such
parentheses to be less important than the rest of the sentence: as she once put it, ‘My
focus is on non-hierarchical structure in writing.’12 Instead, such parenthetical clauses
are a way of visually marking out such phrases; indeed, often the phrase marked out is
the focus of the passage as a whole. The phrase ‘in one’ in the passage above is an
example of this. The repetition of the word ‘one’ (after the first word of the line),
followed by a re-affirmation of its message and further repetition: ‘in the adult
oneself’ (emphasis mine), and ‘in a child […] “one” as “one,”’ makes this sub-clause
the focus of the sentence, and underlines the message that there is a complex
interlinking between information received ‘out there’ and the writer, but also,
everyone. This first person plural is Scalapino’s most oft-used pronoun because she
regarded people generally to be not-separate from one another.
That there is a strong debt to Buddhist ideas in Scalapino’s work is unsurprising given
her background. Even besides the strong tradition of Zen Buddhism in Californian
poetry throughout the twentieth and twenty-first centuries,13 Scalapino’s earliest
experiences were of Chinese, Japanese, and Korean influences, owing to the fact that
her father was a professor of Asian politics at the University of California.14 When
12
Scalapino, The Public World, 3.
E.g. the Beat poetry scene and San Francisco Renaissance. Philip Whalen, a key poet in both scenes
and latterly a Buddhist monk, was a close friend to and influence on Scalapino.
14
Scalapino, interview in Talisman magazine, 8 (1992).
13
Scalapino was seven and fourteen, her family took her for fifteen months around the
Philippines, Taiwan, Japan, Vietnam, India, Burma, Thailand and Malaysia. She
explores these early eastern influences in some depth in her poetic ‘autobiography’:
Zither & Autobiography; for instance, in a ‘Note on Orientalism’: ‘the places, the
texts. Indian, Japanese, Tibetan, Chinese. My orientation is respect for these texts and
traditions, and a concerted effort to try to learn from them. Such a view also informs
my sense of reality that is political.’15 In this note Scalapino also underlines the
overwhelming sense she had that ‘is as if one does see all the time the way reality
occurs – as having no inherent reality really – it’s just motions – and that one is being
re-trained as language continually, to think as a description of something. So,’ she
continues, ‘a task of writing of my period was (is) to undo one’s formations, all,
interior and cultural, at every instant.’16
Scalapino’s work thus attempts a constant undoing or undercutting of stable
formations, which she likens to a ‘Zen practice,’17 drawing attention to the inherent
instabilities in and constructiveness of language, and showing its interconnectedness
to other areas of social reality: making the appeal that both are only ever constructed
‘appearance,’ rather than naturally given or essential. As she puts it: ‘My writing is
making interior illusion [making one’s interior be illusion] – and is simultaneously
also making the exterior, event and action as writing, illusion’ (square brackets: her
own).18 Her constant questioning and dismantling of artificial hierarchies and social
constructions have important connotations with regards to identity. Paying such close
attention to what Megan Simpson has termed ‘the constitutive-perceptual role that
15
Scalapino, Zither & Autobiography, 18.
Ibid., 48.
17
‘In Zen practice’ Scalapino writes, ‘“appearances” which are the world are the same as mind.’
Objects in the Terrifying Tense / Longing from Taking Place (NY: Roof Books, 1994), 9.
18
Scalapino, Zither & Autobiography, 3.
16
language plays’19 impacts, for instance, on Scalapino’s idiosyncratic feminism, which
is everywhere resistant to social prescriptions as well as academic taxonomies. What
denotes woman, and any person, animal, cloud, moment, and so forth, is impossible to
categorize in her constantly shifting, subject-transmutions.20
The poet’s radical, holistic project pertains as much to the way she lived, thought and
spoke, as it does to her written work. It could be (and has been) viewed as a highly
ambitious project, but this term is relevant only in the sense that Scalapino attempted
to highlight and mobilize radically different models of consciousness regarding a
wide variety of subjects;21 to point out error in ‘one’s’ ways of being, including her
own. For any view she expresses that might appear too overreaching to be taken
seriously – and there are a few – we can find an opposing view elsewhere in her
oeuvre, or even immediately juxtaposed, or one that expresses the vulnerability of her
project, her commitment to radical ‘unknowing,’ and the self-‘undercutting’ with
which she was continually engaged. Such elements are explicitly articulated by
Scalapino in places. For instance, in a ‘note’ on her Chameleon Series she writes:
‘[t]he “seeing” itself, the observing or apprehension (one as that which is
apprehended), is placed in an utterly vulnerable “condition.”’22 And, as Laura Hinton
observes, the unknown shape that structures her work ‘Zither,’ leads Scalapino to
declare her ‘humility’ regarding the project: ‘going at it with cockiness won’t do it...’
Simpson, Poetic Epistemologies: Gender and Knowing in Women’s Language-oriented Writing
(NY: SUNY Press, 2000), 122.
20
As Lisa Samuels notes, in Scalapino’s work there is ‘never a stable single subject but [one that is]
always transacted, a state brought forward most obviously by her subject’s transmutation to multiple
human and non-human forms – genders, plant life, characters, animals, visual apparatus.’ ‘Leslie
Scalapino and the Implicated Flaneur,’ American Women Poets in the 21st Century, ed. by Claudia
Rankine and Lisa Sewell (Wesleyan University Press, 2009), II, 32.
21
For example, travel, war, poverty, sociality, politics, religion, phenomenology, movement in
space/time, quantum physics, race, gender and sexuality. However the (societal) subject and its
perceptions is at the heart of most of her writing.
22
Scalapino, Green and Black: Selected Writings (New Jersey: Talisman Publishers, 1996), 10.
19
Throughout this work, the auto-bio-grapher repeatedly states that she does not know
herself (‘I have but slenderly known myself’), and that she also does not know her
own story (‘don’t know / what’s then’).23 More usually, Scalapino’s commitment to
uncertainty and undercutting are manifested in the form of the writing itself, for
example, in the interrogative marks that seam through the majority of her texts,
particularly statements about the writing. For instance: ‘Writing “could be” leaping
outside the “round” of being interiorly / culturally defined (at all) (by oneself or
outside) – yet the language intrinsically can’t do that?’24
In place of Aristotelian laws of non-contradiction, and other binary oppositions that
are widely, culturally imposed in logical thinking in the West, Scalapino explicitly
took up the idea of dialectical opposites, to show the mutually constitutive paradoxes
that are everywhere at work in the world. Her knowledge of phenomenological
dialectics25 and her Zen learning were both major sources of inspiration in this,
especially Nāgārjuna’s doctrine of two-truths: that there are two forms of truth, that
which is directly (ultimately) true, and that which is only conventionally or
instrumentally true.26 In Scalapino’s work, the reader encounters comparable dualisms
in which one is both following the text, in the moment of reading it, and is
simultaneously being urged toward something beyond that text, to an impossible
space in which the text and the individual reader shape and perform one another, freed
from the limits imposed by conventional logic. The result is inherently conflicted, as
Hinton, ‘Zither & (Autobiographical) Introduction: The Writings of Leslie Scalapino,’ How2, 2, 2
(Spring 2004).
24
Scalapino, The Public World, 32.
25
For instance as set out by Maurice Merleau-Ponty in The Visible and the Invisible: ‘Dialectical
thought is that which admits that each term is itself only by proceeding toward the opposed term,
becomes what it is through the movement, that it is one and the same thing for each to pass into the
other or to become itself, to leave itself or to retire into itself […] each term is its own mediation, the
exigency for a becoming, and even for an auto-destruction which gives the other.’ Transl. by Alphonso
Lingis, ed. by Claude Lefort (Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1968), 89.
26
As Scalapino cites from Nāgārjuna’s Mulamadhyamakakarika: ‘Everything is real (tathyam), not
real, both real and not real, and neither real nor not real.’Ibid., 55.
23
the poet acknowledges: ‘[action] occurs by simply giving up one’s mind; yet one can’t
do that in order to write it. This contradiction is evoked also in reading and hearing
it.’27 And: ‘The mind itself being only allusion: conceiving of a writing that is without
allusion at all […] formed by repeated sound or resonance to hang onto, without plot
on which to rely, was the implied project (impossibility, as being outside of language
even).’28
Each of these quotations relates to the fact that Scalapino actively rejected an
epistemological ‘schema’ or underlying rational basis in or for her work. In R-hu, for
instance, she cites from Jose Ignacio Cabezo’s Buddhism and Language, A Study of
Indo-Tibetan Scholasticism under her own subheading, ‘The Inability of Objects to
Withstand Logical Analysis,’ thus: ‘In the Madhyamika … nothing can withstand the
weight of – nothing can bear – logical analysis. However one formulates it, the
starting point of the analysis is language, and language is the culmination as well. The
purpose of the dialectic is to make clear that there is nothing substantial behind
language…’29 The repeated contradictions in Scalapino’s work also relate to her sense
that the ‘real’ event lies ‘between’ phenomena, in the ‘motions’ between dialectical
opposites, in what she called the ‘disjunct instant.’30 Because empirical reality is
solely phenomenal – only ever a matter of whatever appears, in her view, even
imaginatively, momentarily or interiorly. Writing is itself, an ‘action, always caught
in the split between experience as defined from the “outside” (as language) and
experiencing as occurrence.’31
27
Ibid., 11.
Scalapino, Zither & Autobiography, 20.
29
Scalapino, R-hu, 119.
30
Scalapino, The Public World, 13. Later in this same work Scalapino writes: ‘Present as disjunct per
se only – that space/time cannot be his narrative – or one’s. Event is between.’ 25.
31
Ibid., 30.
28
Throughout her life, Scalapino was particularly concerned to examine and limit,
thereby creating disjunction, this space between reality as one perceives it internally
and the concept of an objective, or ‘outside’ reality, especially as it pertained to
writing. As she put it in an interview with Frost in 1996: ‘Mental action is the same as
reality. Living in the image is as real an event as anything else.’ And in the same
interview: ‘The concept of experience and history is “one’s,” and also a fabrication.’32
One of the most challenging aspects of Scalapino’s work is this sense she creates of a
merging of the syntax and structure of the text with experience. Rather than
traditional, mimetic descriptions of events in the world, Scalapino’s writing attempts
to (re)produce the inner, mental motions of the author’s apperceptions, while ‘hanging
on’ as a medium in ‘the outside’;33 to re-situate poetry within the field of action; as
she puts it: ‘One is often simply seeing things, and part of what I want to do is to
change the way of seeing. I want to make it a very active thing where you would cross
the barrier that’s been set up between the quiescent viewer and this imagined active
space where something’s happening over which you can have no effect.’34
This attempted tracing of internal, mental movements – ‘physiological-conceptual
tracking’ or ‘mind structuring’ in Scalapino’s words35 – by the poetry, which is partly
aimed at affirming readerly agency, is akin to a meditative process, in which the
reader transforms her mind through a process that is at once internal and external
simultaneously. As the poet writes in R-hu: ‘The events/writing are outside of the
mind – are out ahead, aren’t ever in the writer’s mind. Only come from the mind. Are
Scalapino explains to Frost that this is related to Buddhism, the aim of which is ‘to be only inside
experience, which is non-existence.’ Elisabeth A. Frost, ‘An Interview with Leslie Scalapino,’
Contemporary Literature, 37, 1 (Spring 1996), 1-23, 16.
33
Scalapino, The Public World, 129.
34
Anne Brewster, ‘“We’re always at War,”: the Worlding of Writing / Reading’ an interview with
Leslie Scalapino, How2, 2, 2 (Spring 2004).
35
Scalapino, The Public World, 12.
32
outside what the mind can do’;36 or as she tells Brewster: ‘There is an actual
possibility of the apprehension of the reality of the instant which is entirely free
space, unrelated to an American notion of freedom, although possibly being that.
Having also arisen from many other places – Tibet, Japan, say. […] The kind of
freedom I’m talking about is more the act of meditation.’ Yet, importantly, Scalapino
adds: ‘I haven’t done it yet [in the writing] so I have to go on finding a way to make
that…’37
Such intangible, inchoate ‘actions’ and intentions make a normative, objective
analysis of precisely whether or how they are performed in the writing virtually
impossible. Critics sympathetic to Scalapino’s project, who set out to analyse her
work in traditional, academic terms, often end up transformed by her writing,
internalising and reproducing her complex syntax, diction and rhythms of attention, as
the only way in which to appreciate the unfamiliar, alternative topographies of mind
and world which Scalapino creates.38 Scalapino herself has frequently resisted critical
exegesis – by the current writer and others39 – complaining that a reordering of her
work precisely undoes the work’s intentions, re-instating that which she is attempting
to challenge: ‘Restatement adjusting perspective […] to an ordered sense is psychic
imperialism’ as she writes in The Public World, and later in the same text:
The black-and-white categories that are tendencies of American thought
approachable (in the sense of demolishing their walls) by an overtly
antirationalistic mode, which as such never allows its expression to be
36
Scalapino, R-hu, 71.
‘“We're Always at War,” an interview with Leslie Scalapino.
38
See for instance Jeanne Heuving’s ‘“A Dialogue About Love [. . . in] the Modern World”/ Tracking
Leslie Scalapino,’ or Laura Hinton’s ‘Zither & (Autobiographical) Introduction’, both in How2, 2, 2
(Spring 2004).
39
Most frequently by Language poets, but also, for instance, by Marjorie Perloff, e.g. in R-hu, 99-103,
and Lisa Samuels (private communications).
37
realigned and by that integrated into category. Current poetic texts that use
a logic as antirationalistic realism. The difficulty of ‘reading’ it becomes
the process by which the reader is realigned.
One has to seek to be realigned.40
This last point is perhaps the most crucial to make about Scalapino’s work: about both
the will and desire necessary to be in the moment with her idiosyncratic writing. Jason
Lagapa has observed the ‘tremendous amount of concentration, discipline, and
patience’ her difficult poetry requires on the part of its reader,41 and Adelaide Morris,
its ‘koan-like elusiveness,’42 ascribable to a Buddhist resistance to rational
understanding. One has to be prepared to give up one’s preconceptions, in favour of
the kind of ‘innocence’ Suzuki encouraged, or ‘emptiness’ in Nāgārjuna’s terms, in
order to appreciate its purpose, if not its beauty. The poet refers to this as ‘giving up
one’s mind.’43
Reason, scepticism, logic and other critical norms become impediments to
appreciation in such a place where ‘all phenomena and perception are groundless,’44
as does, to some extent, overt attachment to the ego. Lagapa puts it thus: ‘Just as
practitioners of zazen work to attain a level of egolessness through repeated efforts of
meditation, Scalapino practices a self-reflexive discipline of negative poetics in order
to challenge conventional Western conceptions of both the process of writing and the
nature of being.’45 Scalapino’s continual loosening of normative, epistemological
footholds results in impermanence and unknowing in her work and, consequently, an
40
Scalapino, The Public World, 56.
Jason Lagapa, ‘Something from Nothing: The Disontological Poetics of Leslie Scalapino,’
Contemporary Literature 47.1 (2006), 30-61, 30.
42
Morris, ‘“Thinking Toward Action”: Epistemology, Politics, and the Syntax of Modernist Poetics.’
How2, 1.7 (Spring 2002).
43
Scalapino, The Public World, 129.
44
Ibid., 55.
45
Lagapa, ‘Something from Nothing,’ 31.
41
intense focus on the present moment of reading it. As she puts it in Zither: ‘“That
nothing is known” – being in the instant – is my sense of Zen, not “belief” – the
opposite.’46 However, as Lagapa also points out, Scalapino’s ‘disontological poetics’
do not aim toward a Zen egolessness, but seek a political reassessment of accepted
ideas about ontology and writing. This desire, out of all the inconstancies in
Scalapino’s work, does at least remain a constant.
Such an approach obviously presents substantial challenges to readers of her work,
not all of whom have responded positively. For instance, in a highly critical essay,
Harriet Zinnes accuses Scalapino of being ‘enamored of her deconstructions, of
disjunction,’ and her approach as being too ‘cerebral,’ ‘objectivist’ and
‘intellectual.’47 Zinnes also doubts that Zen Buddhism, rather than ‘a perverse
calculation encouraged by Language Poetry influences’ leads Scalapino to such
disjunctiveness in writing, though she never says why. The essay is largely based on
assumptions that are easily dismissed by a thorough reading of Scalapino’s work, not
to mention the poet’s repeated statements against intellection in favour of a more
holistic approach; as she tells Frost: ‘supposed differentiations between the textual
and the “real,” or internal and external experience are false – as is the dichotomy
between emotion and intellect.’48 However, complex questions regarding the role of
the reader / critic are raised by Zinnes’ critique, and by Scalapino’s writing in general,
not least: how valuable a writing that only ‘makes sense’ via its own ungrounding of
sense can be in the world of criticism? One response to this is that all experimental
poetry, if not all literature per se, works on the basis of an underlying leap of faith, or
‘willing suspension of disbelief’ on the part of its readers, to a greater or lesser extent.
46
Scalapino, Zither & Autobiography, 29.
Harriet Zinnes, ‘I Feel I’m In A Slingshot,’ Lynx: Poetry from Bath, 14 (February 2000).
48
Frost, ‘An Interview with Leslie Scalapino,’ 2.
47
The difficulty perhaps with Scalapino is that this leap is made uncomfortably explicit.
Yet a position of rhetorical opposition to this is not really convincing to me as a
critique, it merely shows a willingness to go only so far with a text, and no further.
Throughout her work Scalapino replaces the idea of (fore) knowledge with that of
‘observation’ in the present, a kind of Buddhist attention which, in Scalapino’s
experience, naturally entails a self-critique; as she writes in Dahlia’s Iris: ‘one’s
seeing is the instant of bringing one’s faculties into question.’49 The concentration
required to read such difficult work, it is hoped, will highlight the vulnerability of the
reader vis-à-vis epistemological certainties and other normative ‘truths,’ and bring
about an increased consciousness of how meaning is made in the world – no longer
outside and separate, but the result of individuals actions. Intention and action thus
come to occupy, imaginatively, the same fault-line in this performative writing (if at
times in an uncomfortably self-cancelling manner). ‘Action is not separate from
apprehension because where is that action coming from? The reader is both a viewer
and a participant in terms of the sentence structure and of perceiving themselves in
action’ as Scalapino writes.50
It is in the working-through of such radically alternative approaches to seeing, which
Scalapino’s writing emphasizes are as real or unreal as any other ‘appearance,’ that
the value of her work, and particularly her poetics, lies. It is also in a number of
fascinating, contradictory tensions that her work manages to keep in play. For
instance, Scalapino’s attempt to freely perceive phenomena as they occur, separately
Scalapino, Dahlia’s Iris – Secret Autobiography and Fiction (Florida: FC2, 2003), 15. Scalapino
immediately relates this to Tibetan Buddhism: ‘Tibetan Buddhism’s practice is a form of attention as
the mind’s constructions by seeing these.’
50
Brewster, ‘“We’re always at War,”’ an interview with Leslie Scalapino.
49
from her own subjectivity, at the same time as she accepts the precept that however
one observes something, the very process of seeing it acts on the phenomenon,
changing it in some way;51 as she put it: ‘free fall involves letting go of the frames
that one would put around perception which would supply or preserve artificial
borders. […On] the other hand, by taking away those conventional frames you’re
changing reality also. So you’re between these two views, and you have to see both
views and ask if there’s something outside the framing devices. The mind’s framing
being the text’s phenomena.’52 Another interesting tension is created by the way
Scalapino’s writing appears to critique or undercut rational subjectivism or ego within
a space that is, simultaneously, deeply personal, where, as Scalapino admits,
‘Interpreting phenomena is deciphering one’s view,’ and the forms of her work are
‘self-revealing surface[s]’ – of both the reader and the poet.53 Hejinian responds to
this element in Scalapino’s work in ‘Figuring Out,’ where she writes that Deer Night
‘carries out a challenge both to individuation and to the social, attacking the
assumptions on which both sides of the conflict were premised.’ It is between such
paradoxical or dialectical opposites, at points of rupture, that the reader gets a glimpse
of the limitlessness of meaning that is ‘behind’ normative thinking, as Scalapino
viewed it, as if through the ‘holes’ that she claimed to ‘punch’ into her texts,54 and the
freedom that might be won if more people saw as alternatively as she did.
51
The Heisenberg uncertainty principle in quantum physics.
Scalapino in ‘conversation with Sarah Rosenthal,’ 11 January 2001, Jacket magazine, 23 (August
2003).
53
Scalapino, How Phenomena Appear to Unfold (Elmwood, Conn.: Potes and Poets Press, 1989), 22.
54
Ibid., 21. This is repeated in Zither & Autobiography, 20 and in R-hu, 84.
52