[the essayist of
"transgressionism"]

The pocket book O QUE É POESIA MARGINAL (1981), by Glauco Mattoso, was
published as part of Editora Brasiliense's educational "O que é ..."
series ("coleção Primeiros Passos"). Mattoso's own O QUE É TORTURA
(1984) also belongs to that collection. [1]







According to Steven Butterman's thesis [2],

[In Mattoso's conception, "poesia marginal" was most typically the
reinstitution of the colloquialism, and especially the "poema-piada" and
ludic qualities of "modernismo" together with some ingredients of
rock'n'roll and a greater abundance of pornography and slang from the
era. [...] The term also carries larger, more global implications, for
it pays particular homage to those French authors known as "malditos"
(or "maudits"), including Apollinaire, Baudelaire, Rimbaud, and
Verlaine, with the objective of valorizing the courage of their
convictions for transgression. [...] Within the poets considered to be
"marginais," Mattoso defines himself to be both a producer of "poesia
malcriada" and a "poeta maldito,"] [...]

["Poesia marginal," then, comes to represent an anti-intellectual and,
by extension, anti-literary project which resonates well with the
anti-aesthetic ideals of postmodernism in general. Mattoso possesses a
vast knowledge of the poetic tendencies and themes produced by members
of the "geração mimeógrafo," an understanding that is exhibited most
clearly in the concise but well-written pages of his O QUE É POESIA
MARGINAL. However, the absence of references or allusions to Glauco
Mattoso in anthologies dedicated to "poesia marginal" would indicate
that he is undoubtedly a marginal poet within the marginalized poets
writing in the 70s.]

Regarding Mattoso's interest in torture, Foster points out in his book
CULTURAL DIVERSITY IN LATIN AMERICAN LITERATURE [3]:

[Indeed, the dimension of Mattoso's personal record that underscores his
interest in sadomasochism points to one of the most ideologically
problematic aspects of his texts: [...] Mattoso's distinction between
actual torture and sadomasochism as a form of sexual theatrics (although
he does recognize, as many commentators on official torture have, that
the former inevitably involves a dimension of the latter, at least for
the torturer [...]) Yet Mattoso makes it clear that he is defending
sadomasochism, not from a "Nazi" perspective of the appropriate
domination of the weak by the strong, but as a form of sexual theatrics
where rituals of symbolic humiliation, not actual physical torment, are
at issue;]



According to Foster's bio-critical sourcebook [2], Mattoso's work
"demonstrates [his] interest in American cultural sources, already
evident in the U.S. English-based wordplay in his erotic poetry and in
his incorporation of extensive American material in his
quasi-sociological treatise O CALVÁRIO DOS CARECAS: HISTÓRIAS [sic] DO
TROTE ESTUDANTIL (The Calvary of the Pledges: Tales of Student
Fraternities; 1985), which develops the views that Anglo-American and
Brazilian academic fraternities are veiled manifestations of
homoeroticism, with the notable naturalization of practices that echo
conventional society's rejection of deviant dirty sex. Mattoso's use of
English-language sources and his careful documentation of them reveals
his training in library science."

The following excerpts were taken from Mattoso's monograph O CALVÁRIO
DOS CARECAS: HISTÓRIA DO TROTE ESTUDANTIL [1]:


[...] [Tudo isso, somado à credulidade do "jeune soldat", parece história
da carochinha comparado à crueza dos testemunhos mais recentes, que não
vêm de Saint-Cyr, mas de sua equivalente norte-americana, a academia de
West Point, fundada um ano antes (1802) por iniciativa do próprio
Washington.

Os cadetes ianques levaram a degradação do calouro às últimas
conseqüências. Além de ridicularizado, sacrificado e animalizado, o
novato era literalmente prostituído, na pura base do "relax & enjoy", já
que nenhuma das partes podia ser conclusivamente tachada de
homossexualismo: o bicho, porque não tinha outra saída senão
sujeitar-se, e portanto não foi de espontânea vontade; e o veterano,
porque estava apenas se aproveitando da situação pra tirar um sarrinho,
e portanto também não foi de espontânea vontade, mas levado pelas regras
do jogo, isto é, se quem está por cima não se aproveita de quem está por
baixo, passa a ser discriminado por quem está do seu lado. É o
"esprit-de-corps" na sua acepção mais concretamente corporal...

Evidentemente os testemunhos mais detalhados do trote militar nos
Estados Unidos não se acham nas "fontes oficiais". Mas lá a
contracultura se encarrega de contrabalançar as possíveis omissões, e os
"true accounts" pululam pelas publicações "especializadas",
particularmente aquelas dirigidas ao público gay masculino. Pode-se
duvidar delas, admitamos, mas é preferível duvidar da credibilidade das
"fontes oficiais" que as desmentem.

Uma das mais verossímeis & fidedignas publicações do gênero é um jornal
alternativo nova-iorquino, que atende alternadamente pelos nomes de STH
(STRAIGHT TO HELL), THE MANHATTAN REVIEW OF UNNATURAL ACTS, THE AMERICAN
JOURNAL OF DICK LICKING, NEW YORK REVIEW OF COCKSUCKING, entre outros
títulos. Esse pasquim "underground" constitui um verdadeiro repertório
nacional de escabrosas confissões íntimas remetidas pelos próprios
leitores e cuidadosamente selecionadas pelo editor Boyd McDonald.
Posteriormente antologiados em livro por Winston Leyland, editor da
reputada Gay Sunshine Press de San Francisco, tais relatos já totalizam
quatro volumes. Num deles, um rapaz seduz o amigo contando-lhe sua
experiência de calouro na escola militar:

[I told him at school older cadets would force the fourth-formers to
lick the head of a cock or kiss their bare asses as part of the hazing,
and then afterward would call the fourth-formers "cocksuckers".]

O depoimento não fornece detalhes, mas um outro explica melhor por que
os bichos podiam ser obrigados a lamber chapeletas e depois se
arriscavam a ser chamados de "chupa-picas":

[Here is my first experience when I was in military school. There were
many others, but there was only one first time.

The first weeks were a blur of running to and from formations, being
yelled at by every older boy, asking for permission to drink from a
fountain, to piss, to shit, and being ordered to brace (stand at
attention) for what seemed like hours.

One of the 3rd formers who had undergone the treatment the year before
told me to let the "crybabies" bear the brunt of the hazings, and
that's what happened.

Most of the action took place after lights out, and some of my
classmates came to dread that hour which usually began with the 2nd
formers prowling our quarters.

The first night it happened, my three roommates and I were almost
asleep when our door opened and two upperclassmen appeared. They routed
us out of bed and ordered us to strip off our pajamas, which three of
us did, but our fourth roommate decided he'd had enough ordering about.
Delighted at this act of disobedience, the older boys grabbed our
roommate and while one held him, the other one tore off his pajamas,
squeezing his nipples and pinching him.

They told us our roommate was to be punished for not obeying an order
and that we'd better shut up and watch.

Both upperclassmen opened their robes, revealing that they were wearing
only jock straps. The jocks were bulging and carried the strong odor of
sweat. They threw their robes to the floor and I noticed for the first
time that both guys were wearing their garrison belts above their jock
straps. They threw our roommate to the floor, and while telling how
much pain they were going to inflict on his bare ass, they were gently
rubbing the pouches of their jocks, almost like they were talking to
themselves, but making sure our roommate would be reduced to a
blubbering "crybaby". One of the guys knelt in front of our roommate
and held his arms so he couldn't move; the other bent over to take aim
at the naked ass, tensed up in terror.

When the first blow smacked that bare flesh, our roommate must have
come off the floor a couple of inches. He let out a loud yell. The guy
with the belt quickly stripped down his jock and the two of them rammed
it into the boy's mouth to cut down on the noise. But the sounds of
that garrison belt whacking that bare ass were loud enough.

This was my first experience at seeing a real whipping, and my cock got
as hard as it had ever been, hearing the muffled cries of our roommate
being beaten by these two half-naked gods, both of whom were also
getting hard ons. The guy doing the belting was stark naked and had a
lot of dark hair around his cock, and as he raised and lowered his arm
with the belt, his body twisted so that his cock got harder as he
brought the strap down again and again.

I looked at my other two roommates. Neither had a hard on but both were
shaking.

The victim's ass got bright red, with many darker red streaks
criss-crossing. He had been reduced to a "crybaby", a term they seemed
to use a lot at school.

The guy who had done the whipping stood with his legs apart, his cock
sticking out, and ordered the kid to his knees. The kid started to
remove the jock strap from his mouth and got a hard slap across the
face for not getting permission. I remember the other guy saying to his
buddy to be careful not to mark him up where it shows. The kid's ass
was really marked up already. The naked upperclassmen ordered him to
lick the head of his cock. He told him that if he did, he would then be
known as a cocksucker; if he didn't, he'd get a harder whipping and
perhaps even the "shower room treatment", which sounded so evil I
almost wished our roommate would refuse so I could see what it was.

The kid did begin to lick the guy's cock. He looked like he was going
to be sick any minute. I wished I was down there for the chance to lick
that big, hard cock.

I was to get my wish very soon.

Not being content just to have his dick licked, the older guy had our
roommate lick his hairy balls – which we stared at in wonder.]

Diante desse clima de putaria marcial, e ao contrário do que possa
parecer, o trote nas escolas civis não é mais ameno, mas até mais
pesado. Para que se possa compreender melhor como isso funciona, temos
que preambular & perambular por uma instituição típica do universo
universitário americano: a "confraria". A palavra "fraternity", que se
traduz por "confraria" ou "irmandade", aplica-se aos estudantes do sexo
masculino. A agremiação de alunas é chamada "sorority". Pela
discriminação entre os clubes do Bolinha & da Luluzinha já se tem uma
idéia do caráter fechado (vale dizer "indevassável" e – why not? –
"devasso") desse tipo de associação, cujo modelo mais aproximado é o de
uma loja maçônica.

Quando falávamos em Reforma, faltou dizer que a mesma deu novo impulso
à formação de universidades, não só na Alemanha como no resto da Europa
protestante. Só que aos americanos não bastava apenas uma aura de
anticlericalismo. Era preciso algo mais que a mera atmosfera profana. A
América sempre foi terreno fértil para sucedâneos de clero e de
liturgia: as simbioses, os sincretismos, as hibridizações, as
heterodoxias, ou, por outra, aquilo que aqui Oswald chamaria de
antropofagia, Caetano de tropicalismo e os decoradores de ecletismo.
Portanto, nada melhor pra parodiar um pouco de cada canto da Europa que
uma pitada de sacro, uma de profano, uma de sociedade secreta e uma de
satânico. É assim que se instala, na terra dos Mormons, dos Quakers, das
Testemunhas de Jeová, da Ku-Klux-Klan e dos Hell's Angels, o espírito
universitário. Faço análise superficial? Sem dúvida, mas a função duma
colcha de retalhos não vai mudar só porque alguém resolve descobrir de
que roupa veio cada pedaço de pano. Assim, basta a compreensão de que a
"fraternity" não passa dum arremedo (ou remendo) a mais na cultura
americana, e como tal desempenha de ponta a ponta o infalível pretexto
para manipulações do comportamento coletivo: numa ponta, satisfaz a
propósitos ideológicos, políticos & econômicos; noutra, aos impulsos
sadomasoquistas da mocidade. Tudo muito bem justificado, a título de
instituição.

As primeiras universidades do país (Harvard, Yale, Princeton) são dos
séculos XVII e XVIII, anteriores à independência. Mas as confrarias
estudantis só começaram a surgir após o 4 de julho: a mais antiga delas
data de 5 de dezembro de 1776, fundada em Williamsburg, estado de
Virgínia, no College of William and Mary, com o nome de Phi Beta Kappa.
As "sororities" mais velhas são de 1870, a Kappa Alpha Theta e a Kappa
Kappa Gamma, de Indiana e Illinois, respectivamente. As letras gregas
se referem às iniciais das palavras secretas que servem de lema
representativo dos propósitos & ideais de cada associação, e remetem a
um suposto protótipo que seriam as sociedades secretas da Grécia
antiga. Daí serem as "fraternities" & "sororities" conhecidas também
como "Greek-letter societies". Conforme o âmbito ou a área de estudos
abrangida, e em função de suas finalidades sociais, culturais ou
profissionais, as confrarias mais famosas são: Phi Beta Kappa, Alpha
Epsilon Delta, Phi Kappa Phi (gerais e honorárias); Tau Beta Pi, Eta
Kappa Nu, Sigma Tau (engenharia); Sigma Xi (científica); Phi Lambda
Upsilon (química); Order of the Coif (jurídica); Alpha Omega Alpha
(médica); Phi Delta Kappa, Kappa Delta Pi, Pi Lambda Theta
(educacionais); Beta Gamma Sigma (economia), e assim por diante. Como se
vê, algo bem diferente dum simples grêmio ou centro acadêmico, ou duma
associação de ex-alunos, tal como conhecemos no Brasil.

Pra começar, o processo de admissão numa confraria é muito mais
seletivo que um exame vestibular, visto que não basta ser calouro para
ser automaticamente neófito, assim como um veterano não é
necessariamente membro. No entanto, como dava mais status pertencer à
confraria (principalmente depois de formado), o bicho procurava entrar
para ela assim que se matriculava na faculdade. Em função disso algumas
confrarias chegavam a proibir o ingresso de calouros, como forma de
elitizar ainda mais sua imagem. Na maioria dos casos, porém, antes de
ser admitido como membro ativo o calouro ou "freshman" passa por
diversas etapas preliminares. Primeiro é convidado a participar de
encontros informais (bailinhos, jantares, reuniões, grupos de estudo)
onde, junto com outros calouros, é "observado" pelos membros veteranos,
chamados de "brothers", (irmãos). Nesse período de "observação" ou
"rushing", o calouro é designado como "rushee", isto é, "marcado" ou
"visado". Ao término do prazo de "rushing", os irmãos se reúnem e votam
naqueles que deverão ser escolhidos como futuros neófitos. Um único
voto contrário, conhecido como "blackball" ou "bola preta" (não lhes
lembra nada?), pode desqualificar um candidato. Os "rushees"
selecionados recebem o "bid to join" e passam para a segunda etapa, na
qual serão chamados de "pledges" ("empenhados") e terão que dedicar
praticamente todo o tempo extracurricular ao convívio com os irmãos, de
quem receberão um treinamento destinado a discipliná-los & enquadrá-los
nos regulamentos da confraria. É durante o período de "pledging" que o
calouro começa a sofrer os trotes, progressivamente mais violentos &
humilhantes, que só cessam após a cerimônia de incorporação. Como todos
os trotes são "rituais", o calouro não pode se recusar a sofrê-los, nem
pode denunciá-los caso abusivos, pois já fez o juramento de não revelar
os "segredos" da confraria.

Cada confraria tem seu manual contendo os deveres do "pledge", bem como
um calendário de "eventos" nos quais todos os "pledges" terão que
entrar de cobaias. Os principais eventos recebem nomes pomposos e podem
durar uma hora ou uma semana inteira: The Period of Grace, The Work
Weekend, The Happy Hour, The Oath Ceremony, The Friday Night Detail, The
Junior Prom Weekend, The Charter Reading Ceremony, The Chapel Ceremony,
The Sunrise Ceremony, The Paddle-Burning Ceremony, The Greek Week, The
Hell Week, etc. Alguns eventos não passam de ingênuas & inofensivas
teatralizações, mais ou menos sérias ou ridículas, conforme o protocolo.
Por exemplo: na Sunrise Ceremony ou "Cerimônia do Nascente", comparada
pelo prof. Leemon a um ritual de purificação, os "pledges" são reunidos
ao amanhecer no quintal da residência universitária, diante duma chama
improvisada, e, um a um, lançam no fogo o besourinho que trazem preso
numa caixa de fósforo ou num frasco. Depois, todos têm que ajoelhar e
repetir a "prece" recitada por um dos irmãos:

"Oh, sun god, we ask for your forgiveness and bow down to you. We ask
for your forgiveness and help this day to do the things we have been
taught, and to act like men."

Em seguida, o irmão lhes ordena que ergam as mãos para o céu e se
prosternem no solo entoando o refrão "Oh, sun god.".

Temos aí um típico exemplo de simulacro religioso. Mas o treinamento
inclui muitas outras exigências, bem mais práticas, realistas e...
profanas, que vão da simples aula de etiqueta à mesa até o trabalho
braçal e o exercício militar de resistência física – tudo visando a
robotização do calouro e sua total submissão ao veterano. É o caso do
Friday Night Detail. No jargão da confraria, "detail" designa a limpeza
do refeitório ou da sala de jantar da morada estudantil: o assoalho
deve ser esfregado & encerado, a máquina de leite tem que estar limpa e
as mesas lavadas com amoníaco.

Nas refeições coletivas, costuma ter lugar um pequeno "sermão" onde
qualquer dos ativos transmite aos "pledges" as normas & formas traçadas
por The Whip ou The Lash ("O Chicote"), codinome atrás do qual se
esconde o graduado veterano incumbido de programar os trotes, e cuja
identidade a calourada só ficará conhecendo após a admissão. O pequeno
discurso do "brother" pode versar sobre os deveres do "pledge" (usar o
broche de bicho, trazer sempre consigo fósforos & cigarros para
oferecer aos veteranos, ou tratá-los por Sir ou Mister e não rir na sua
presença a não ser quando mandado, atender ao telefone, servir à mesa,
entrar pela porta dos fundos, trabalhar na faxina), ou pode servir para
anunciar o que aguarda os novatos no próximo evento, que seria, por
exemplo, um Work Weekend onde Fulano vai lavar as privadas e recolher o
lixo, Sicrano vai limpar a cozinha e o quintal e Beltrano encerar o
chão, lustrar os móveis e engraxar as botinas da turma toda.

As argüições orais são também freqüentes: os "pledges" têm que trazer
na ponta da língua o alfabeto grego, os lemas & juramentos da
confraria, o nome e endereço de cada irmão, sua cidade natal, sua
idade, seu curso, seus colegas de quarto e o número de seus sapatos;
têm ainda que decorar fórmulas bestialógicas & degradantes, algumas
tipo travalínguas, para serem declamadas, sem errar uma vírgula, a
qualquer momento em que um veterano ordenar. Tais como:

[Sir, my head is made of Vermont marble and African ivory, covered with
a thick layer of case hardened steel which forms an impenetrable barrier
to all that seeks to impress itself upon the ashen tissue of my poor
brain. Hence, the effulgent and obstreperously effervescent phrases
just directed and reiterated for my comprehension have failed to
penetrate the somniferous forces of my atrocious intelligence. Sir, in
other words, Sir, I am very dumb and do not understand, Sir.

My Lord, I am, my Lord, a Bacchanalian Baccalaureate bitten by the bug
of a balsaminaceous bamboozler, but if I be a bantam from the Prophytus
or Basidiosporous, I will bend to thee, my bombastic brother, to be
baptized by the blood of thy barb, Sir.]

No quadro de avisos da residência universitária é comum estarem afixados
lembretes deste tipo:

[ATTENTION PLEDGES

Subject: Knowing by heart the following sayings:

1. Sir, sir is spelled sir capital S sir, capital I sir, capital R sir,
and that sir is the way to spell sir, sir.

2. The definition of a member: Sir, the definition of a member is one
who exemplifies all the high ideals and aspirations which I, a pledge,
must strive to attain, sir.

3. The definition of a pledge: Sir, the definition of a pledge is one
who is lower than the lowest form of whale waste found in the lowest
portion of the Mariana Trench, sir.

By: Sunday, 23 February
For: The Whip]

Para as faltas & deslizes, as punições mais leves são do tipo comer com
os dedos ou sem usar as mãos, ou sentados no chão. Mas são os exercícios
físicos que dão aos veteranos a grande chance de extravasar o sadismo.
Os "pledges" são alinhados em formação militar ("line-up") e forçados a
praticar o "sit-up", o "push-up", o "knee-bend", o "leg-lift" e o
"duck-walk".

No "push-up", por exemplo, o novato tem que executar o chamado apoio de
frente sobre o solo, uma ginástica de flexão dos braços. Desde a
primeira vez, o veterano que comanda o exercício vai gritando as
ordens: – Do ten push-ups! Os "pledges" contam em uníssono a cada
"push-up", enquanto o veterano manda fazer mais rápido ou em câmara
lenta, manter a bunda na posição correta e apagar qualquer sorriso da
cara. Após dez "push-ups", o veterano manda fazer mais dez, porque a
calourada esqueceu de dizer "Sir" após a contagem de cada "push-up". E
assim por diante. Às vezes, no meio dos "push-ups", são forçados a rir
todos juntos: – Smile. You are happy pledges. Outras vezes a calourada
tem que ficar imóvel "into the push-up position" até o limite das
forças. Nos sermões e argüições os irmãos já vão ameaçando: – You guys
can't memorize the chapters from the Manual. I want you guys to act like
men. You do push-ups until you fall on your face.

No "knee-bend", o novato tem que dobrar as pernas até ajoelhar no chão.
Isso pode ser repetido muitas vezes, ao gosto do veterano, até a
exaustão. Ora mais rápido, ora em câmara lenta. Às vezes o veterano
comanda vários "deep kneebends", e os calouros se agacham até ficar
"squatted in the low position of a knee-bend". Após vinte ou trinta
genuflexões o calouro quase que já nem levanta mais, mas geralmente tem
que fazer das tripas coração para participar de novos exercícios
coletivos, como o "duck-walk" ou "passo do pato": batendo os braços que
nem asas e gritando "quack", os bichos ficam dando voltas pela sala, ou
desfilam perante um pendurado chicote simbólico (beijando o chão ao
passar pelo fetiche), ou sobem & descem as escadas até botarem a língua
de fora.

Os irmãos podem exigir dos "pledges" quaisquer desses exercícios a todo
momento e a diversos pretextos: como teste de "unidade" ou resistência,
como punição, ou por simples diversão. E é dessas diversões que os
"pledges" têm maior cagaço. Elas implacavelmente ocorrem num tipo de
evento denominado Happy Hour, onde quem se alegra é o veterano, mas o
calouro tem que rir na marra, embora queira chorar. A Happy Hour é
anunciada com antecedência, durante uma reunião ou refeição, através de
avisos como este: "– O Chicote me encarregou de fazer a vocês o
seguinte comunicado: estejam todos aqui às 23 horas em ponto. Todos
devem estar usando "beanies" (bonés de bicho), gravatinhas e roupas
velhas...". Às dez e meia, todos os veteranos já estão enturmados na
sala de estar, usando jeans, camisetas suadas e tênis. Alguns trazem na
cabeça exóticos chapéus, tipo quepe de polícia, sombrero de palha ou
capacete alemão. O som é ligado bem alto, tocando rock. Assim que
chegam, os calouros são obrigados a se perfilar na sala de jantar, de
onde foram retiradas as mesas. Logo começam a chover as ordens: – Do 25
push-ups!; depois: "– Todo mundo no chão, com as mãos na cabeça!";
depois: "– Mais dez 'push-ups'!"; – Faster, faster, faster!; "– Todo
mundo suando, vamos lá!"; – Now twenty knee-bends, slowly! – e assim
por diante. De repente, um irmão puxa um cigarro e, quando vários
calouros correm para acendê-lo, ele sopra e apaga os fósforos. A um
calouro é perguntado que horas são, e o coitado tem que pular e bater
asas, imitando galinha e cantando & contando os "cucos". Enquanto isso,
os demais "pledges" vão rosnando em coro, como um bando de cachorros,
tentando encobrir os esganiçados cuculejos. Os veteranos rolam de rir.
Um deles grita: – Tonight is the night for noise. Understand? E toda a
calourada tem que marchar e cantar, esgoelando em tom desafinado, até
caírem de roucos. Com uns vinte minutos de marcha & cantoria ao redor da
sala, os veteranos se dão por satisfeitos e os "pledges" pedem água.

Por incrível que possa parecer, o "pledge" não fica lá muito revoltado
com esse tratamento. Alguns até curtem masoquisticamente. Leemon
registrou os seguintes comentários de "pledges" submetidos à primeira
Happy Hour:

[(...) I like to do push-ups. The yelling was funny (...)]

[(...) I can do knee-bends all night. (...) They get a kick out of
making you sweat and laugh (...)]

[(...) It teaches kinds of discipline. You learn to take it.]

[(...) I expected a lot worse – like eating raw eggs and catsup – like
some of the other fraternities. It's the same old thing – unity –
suffering together. I got through the push-ups.]

O período de "pledging" vai mais ou menos de fevereiro a abril, e é
coroado por uma semana cujo nome varia conforme a confraria: Greek
Week, Haze Week, Hell Week. Naquele interregno os trotes atingem o
ponto crítico. Os avisos são sempre ameaçadores:

[Greek Week will be easy if you do as you are told. Do you understand?]

[Certain things have been emphasized during pledging. Unity especially.
If you've learned these lessons, Greek Week will be fun. If not, it
will be hell.]

E começam as prescrições:

[Be here at 7:00 A.M. each morning to do push-ups. If one (pledge) is
missing, you'll do them until all are here. You'll be lined up and
checked by the brothers. After the Line-up you'll eat a quick breakfast.
Then you'll start your details. (...) When you are at the house, you are
to wear sacks, carry stockings, and wear beanies and ties. (...) I want
to see you working on details. If you haven't learned your lessons, you
will be punished. (...) One fraternity extended Greek Week for two
weeks. We may, too.]

O livro de Leemon descreve uma Greek Week trivial, sem maiores
incidentes que os relatados nas Happy Hours. Só que Leemon se apresenta
como antropólogo, não como pornógrafo. Além do mais, ele pediu
permissão à confraria para presenciar e registrar os trotes, e os
irmãos obviamente não fariam certas coisas na presença dum estranho,
muito menos dum pesquisador. Por isso, ao final da leitura ficamos nos
perguntando o que aconteceria dentro da residência universitária se
ninguém de fora estivesse olhando...

Mas há outros meios de sabermos. Os próprios estudantes fornecem
anonimamente os detalhes mais escabrosos, e pesquisadores menos
comprometidos com o decoro ou o rigor científico podem tranqüilamente
veiculá-los. Foi o que ocorreu com John Barton, que, como eu, coletou
depoimentos de numerosos correspondentes, cedendo-os para publicação em
periódicos do tipo underground. Os casos compilados por Barton lançam
luz bem clara sobre as verdadeiras orgias & sessões de tortura que se
sucediam durante uma Hell Week.

Um deles ilustra o trote na década de 40: na morada estudantil, os
calouros tinham que empurrar amendoins com o nariz por toda a extensão
do piso, enquanto recebiam palmatoadas na bunda, aplicadas pelos irmãos
com uma "paddle". Havia sessões de "peanuts & paddling" com toda a
calourada nua, e ninguém seria considerado bicha se ficasse de pau duro
ao ter as nádegas surradas. Mas o bicho estaria desmoralizado se fosse
visto chupando o pau duro de um veterano, razão pela qual havia uma
Individual Night em que cada veterano escolhia um calouro e o levava de
carro para local ermo, onde a vítima tinha "two choices": ou chupava o
pau como lhe era exigido, e voltava pra casa numa boa (sem que a
chupada fosse espalhada), ou ficava nu na estrada e depois ganhava a
imerecida fama de engolidor de cobra. O depoente confessa:

[I was shocked. (...) I kept trying to refuse his demand. (...) I
hesitatingly began to suck him – I had never sucked before and as I
began to work on him I found it both revolting and fascinating, which I
think is pretty much a natural reaction the first time one man takes on
another man. As I pressed on in the task it became less revolting I
must admit. As I sucked he began to give directions and direct my head
with his hands. That was a strange feeling too, because we had had our
heads shaved earlier in the week. Here I was in the back seat of a car
with a huge cock in my mouth, my shaved head being controlled by a guy
I really didn't know. It was almost too much and when I finally brought
him off I began to cry.]

Durante a Hell Week acontecia uma Haircutting Night na quinta, e no
sábado era a vez dos pentelhos serem raspados, em meio a algumas
ereções:

[Saturday of Hell Week the drinking began early in the afternoon. About
7 that evening most of the brothers were pretty drunk, and the drunker
they got, the more the paddles were used. We pledges had pretty sore
asses. One of the brothers who was especially drunk got talking about
how exciting it had been to watch the pledges get their heads shaved
earlier and he began to suggest more shaving. A table was placed in the
middle of the room and a scissors was brought out and a razor. One of
the pledges was put on the table on his back and the drunk brother
began to cut off his cock hair. One of the more sober brothers decided
that if he were allowed to proceed we would probably end up being
wounded, so it was decided that the pledges would shave each other of
their cock hair. It was pretty horny and every one of us produced a hard
on when that razor started working around the family jewels.]

Na década de 50 a coisa parece ter pretejado ainda mais para o lado dos
"pledges", que eram obrigados a colher assinaturas pelo campus, e quem
colhesse o menor número seria esporrado na cara por todos os demais,
sem poder se limpar depois. Além disso, teria de segurar com a boca a
alça do balde onde os outros mijariam, e, após as eventuais cagadas,
limpar-lhes-ia a bunda usando um chumaço de papel higiênico entre os
dentes. Enquanto assistiam filmes pornôs, os veteranos se faziam
masturbar pelos calouros, e o coitado que colhera menos assinaturas
tinha que rastejar perante os masturbados e oferecer a cara para o
esguicho. Antes que lhe fosse permitido tomar banho, ainda tinha ele
próprio que tocar uma punheta sobre sua "derrotada" lista de
assinaturas. Foi assim que um calouro de 1954 narrou sua experiência a
um amiguinho, que a transmitiu nestes termos:

[This is an especially hot hazing to me. It was told to me by a
beautiful guy whom I loved and who killed himself a few years ago. I
made him tell and retell me every detail over and over. This took place
at the U. of T. in the Fall of 1954. On one day during Hell Week all
the pledges had to collect as many signatures as possible from Brothers
OUTSIDE the house. This meant that signature-taking was conducted on
campus, in restaurants, on the street, wherever. That evening the
totals were tallied. The pledge with the most signatures was exempt
from further hazing that day. The loser had to sit on the floor with
his hands under his ass and head held up while all the other pledges,
one at a time, stripped and, facing him, jerked off on him, being told
to aim at his face. He couldn't wash or change out of his cum-soaked
clothes all night. Also, for the rest of the night, any pledge having
to piss or shit had to ask permission and the loser-pledge had to hold
the bucket handle between his teeth for pissers and lie on his back
with the bucket on his chest for shitters, then wipe their asses with a
wad of toilet paper held between his teeth. Beer was flowing and porno
flics were being shown (can you imagine the tacky films of 1954?) on
one wall. Periodically a pledge was ordered by a seated brother to come
over and jerk him off (the brothers were in shorts or jocks, the
pledges naked). This meant that the poor bastard who had gotten the
fewest signatures had to crawl over and sit in front of the brother and
get a load in the face. Then the pledge who had just masturbated the
brother was required to "show respect" by jacking off in the loser's
face.

My friend, Wally, said that he came no less than 7 times that night and
some of the pledges were forced to come even more often. Toward the
end, pledges were begging not to be forced to beat their sore cocks
anymore and after as much as a half-hour of pounding away only a pearl
of cum oozed out. Wally saw the loser next morning before he had been
allowed to shower and said that his face and T-shirt were so stiff from
dried cum that his features were distorted. Before he could shower, he
was made to strip in front of pledges and brothers, shove the
"offending" mechanical pencil up his ass and jack off on his "losing"
list of signatures. After he was allowed to shower, all the brothers
took a grease pencil and wrote their names on his body. Naturally as
many as possible wrote on his ass and around his genitals, and he had
to wear their names under his clothes all day.]

Na década de 60 o trote conheceu sua idade de ouro, a julgar por este
depoimento de um gay enrustido que, pra poder passar pela experiência
masoquista de ser currado por garotões universitários, ingressou numa
confraria em 1965. Pelo visto se realizou, pois foi tratado abaixo de
cachorro, tendo que comer no chão sem usar as mãos e tomando o dejejum
em pleno mictório, onde lambeu flocos de milho regados a mijo dos
veteranos. O final da Hell Week foi seu dia de glória: amarrado a um
cavalete e de olhos vendados, foi estuprado por vários veteranos, na
boca e no cu ao mesmo tempo. Eis seu relato:

[In 1965, I desperately wanted to join a college fraternity just for the
opportunity to be disciplined, humiliated and put through "Hell Week."
My interest in bondage/discipline as well as my homosexual interests
could both be explored without appearing to be gay. I had heared lurid
rumors of hazing and degradation during the "7 Days of Hell" and I
wanted very much to be dominated. The fraternity was made up of 25
actives and 5 pledges. As a pledge, I was assigned to 5 actives. I was
to do their bidding for the whole semester, provided that I passed Hell
Week. During Hell Week the house was off-limits for outsiders; the
actives had no dates or social outings. Instead, they played out their
sexual fantasies on the "slave" pledges. And indeed we were their slaves
for the week. Blindfolds were issued and our clothes stripped. We were
not allowed to stand and quite often our hands were tied. Only three
hours of sleep was permitted each night. We could not use our hands when
eating but were issued food in a bowl on the floor.

Breakfast was always the same – we knelt at the urinals which had our
breakfast, consisting of a pile of corn flakes liberally soaked with
piss. The foul odor of the actives' early morning piss made us almost
throw up. Paddling was administered until we finished. It was an
unbelievable experience. Today, I still welcome that experience. The
actives cut loose with loads of foul piss onto the corn flakes when our
blindfolds were in place. We had 30 minutes to clean up every morcel of
cereal and EVERY drop of piss. Verbal abuse also accompanied breakfast.

Hell Week was long and tiresome. Our asses were red and sore. The final
evening, Saturday, each pledge was put over a sawhorse and securely
fastened. The blindfolds were put on again. A liberal amount of
Vaseline was rubbed in each of the 5 assholes. I felt pressure on my
asshole and just as I was ready to yell a cock was stuck down my
throat. In an instant, I was being fucked by two of my brothers. As
each climaxed and withdrew, another active took his place. After an
hour we were released and with a formal ritual we were accepted into
the fraternity. I had to do the bidding the remaining part of the
semester for my 5 actives. But it was generally light chores, laundry,
etc., with paddling once a week. No further sexual abuse was conducted.
I never knew whose cocks fucked me during the initiations.]

Não será mera coincidência que os testemunhos acima casem com este
outro, enviado de New Jersey por um ex-aluno da Brown University:

[I am glad there is a publication which gives me the chance to tell of
an experience I had as a pledge to a fraternity at Brown University.
Before initiation we all had to spend some free hours each week working
at the frat house – serving meals, cleaning and generally catering to
the whims of Brothers. For any mistake we would "assume the position"
– bent over to get our asses whacked with the paddle.

None of the members but one would paddle us on the bare ass so we wore
heavy pants and several pairs of undershorts and the beatings were not
so bad. But the one guy, Randy, was a mean bastard and would make us
drop our pants and shorts and beat our naked tails till we yelled. He
seemed to pick on me especially because I was taller than the others and
than him.

One night I was supposed to clean up supper dishes while everybody went
out to some bash. When I thought they were all gone I grabbed a beer,
which was forbidden, and sat down to watch television. Suddenly Randy
came back. He caught me red-handed, called me a "fucking sneak," and
told me to fetch the paddle. As I walked from the room he almost lifted
me off the floor with the hardest kick in the ass I ever got.

When I came back with the paddle I was scared shit. He told me to bare
my ass and bend over. Then, did he ever blister my hind end with that
paddle, I screamed and cried, begging for mercy. But he wouldn't stop.
My ass went from pain to numbness, till I couldn't stand it and jumped
away. We argued and he told me if I was chickenshit I could get the
hell out and forget about the fraternity.

I didn't want that or for him to get the best of me so I apologized and
decided to take anything he dished out. He made me strip altogether and
then marched me bareass upstairs, smacking my already sore behind all
the way up. He tied me hand and foot on a bed and lit a candle. First he
teased the soles of my feet with the flame, threatening to really burn
them. They did burn once or twice and I let out a howl.

He ran the lighted candle up my legs to my groin and set my cock hair
on fire. He would put it out when the flames grew big but by the time
he finished practically all my manly hair was singed to stubble.

He turned me over and I thought he was going to tan my ass some more
but instead he spread my hind cheeks and started dropping hot wax from
the candle on my asshole. Many didn't hurt but a couple of real hot
drops hit my sensitive tail pipe right on target and made me jump.

At last he asked if I was ready to obey and I said yes so he untied me
and made me get on my knees and take his cock in my mouth and suck on
it. I was never so humiliated in my life. There were tears running down
my face as he ground his hips and dug his prick deep into my throat.
All the time he was calling me "Cocksucker" and "Fag" and saying "Suck
it, Mary." The only thing I was spared was his coming in my mouth
because I choked and gagged and turned red so he slapped my face and
told me to get downstairs, put on my clothes and get back to work. On
the way downstairs he booted my ass again and almost sent me sprawling.

The initiation that came some weeks later was also a pretty bad time.]

Nem sempre a coisa degenerava em pura putaria. Às vezes a putaria ficava
reprimida & dissimulada atrás do machismo, como se vê por este
depoimento enviado de New York por um veterano de 1972 que, mui
comedido, se limitou a presenciar a raspagem dos pentelhos de quatro
calouros:

[In 1972 I was at the State University. At the beginning of the term
all of the houses had their rushes and I was accepted by one of them.
One requirement for this house was that you had to either be on a team
or be a phys ed major, and as I was on the swimming team I was
accepted. The nudity and physical contact that are a large part of
hazings in other fraternity houses were not the case in ours. The
reason for this is that the guys were all jocks; they were constantly
trying to affirm their masculinity. All had girl friends; nothing was
said or done which might even suggest that a guy wasn't 100%
jocko-macho. It was all right to walk around the locker room, showers
or pool bare ass; this was expected. But anything like that in a
non-athletic environment, especially involving physical contact, might
be considered queer. However, the year after my initiation (it was my
last year in the house), we had an initiation for 4 new members. The 4
new guys were made to strip naked. Then each one had to lie on top of
our poker table, and while all of the other guys crowded around
watching, they had their pubic hair shaved off. The guys were shaved
completely bare – nothing at all was left around their cocks and
balls. Of course, during the shaving process, Paul, the "barber," had to
handle their cocks and balls. Well, each one of these 4 new guys threw a
rod, to their embarrassment and our laughter. They were told to remain
naked for the rest of the evening so that we could look at their "baby
cocks." One of the new guys, Allen, was in my swimming class, and for
weeks after, the guys in the class would make sure to look at his crotch
to see how his hair was growing.]

A esta altura cabe perguntar se não havia trote pesado fora das
academias & confrarias. Do jeito que os americanos zelam formalmente
pelos direitos humanos, pelas garantias individuais e pela segurança do
cidadão, a resposta é não. Aparentemente, o nível de violência &
malícia nunca desceria além de cenas como as da inocente rasgação dos
pijamas ou da angelical república mostradas em CHÁ E SIMPATIA (TEA AND
SYMPATHY, de Vincente Minnelli), um clássico exemplo de moralismo
cinematográfico (e, por extensão, dos costumes) da década de 50. Quer
dizer, em público as coisas nunca mostram sua verdadeira face nos
States. Os sadomasoquistas que quiserem curtir seus atentadozinhos à
dignidade humana terão que recorrer à necessária privacidade da
"military school" ou da "fraternity" – tal como nos bordéis, nas
saunas, nos motéis, nos clubes, nas penitenciárias e nos templos de
seitas religiosas à moda Jim Jones, sem esquecer das casas de família.
Mas isso já escapa ao nosso escopo.

Mesmo assim, a opinião pública americana teve algumas oportunidades
para se escandalizar com os "hazings" – "when initiation activities
caused serious injuries and an occasional fatality" – e desde a década
de 20 se esboçavam também lá as malfadadas campanhas antitrote. Naquela
época o "hazing" virou "subject of controversy" e chegou a ser "outlawed
for awhile". Já nos anos 40, alguns educadores (não sei se bem ou mal
intencionados ou informados) colecionavam argumentos para fazer supor
que o trote estava em decadência no país. Entre as razões alegadas
figuravam as seguintes: o desejo & a necessidade de tornar a
universidade mais atrativa aos graduandos dos cursos secundários;
residências & dormitórios maiores e mais coletivos; melhores & mais
numerosas atividades extracurriculares; o progressivamente menor
isolamento das faculdades entre si; o gradativo aumento do número de
alunos diurnos; a deselitização e o crescente caráter social do ensino
superior, com a conseqüente maturidade & conscientização das classes
estudantis; e por aí afora.

Doce ilusão. Os depoimentos das décadas seguintes, que acabei de
transcrever, se encarregam de esvaziar qualquer hipótese de que o
"hazing", ainda hoje, esteja em vias de extinção. Não obstante, as
campanhas têm continuado a lutar, ao menos pela "humanização" do trote.
A principal tática consiste na tentativa de substituir os trotes
físicos pelos culturais & beneficentes (tipo debates, intercâmbios,
arrecadação de donativos, assistência social em áreas carentes),
transformando assim as Hell Weeks em Help Weeks, segundo o slogan
corrente nos anos 60. Não me perguntem como conciliar a filantropia com
o exoterismo duma pretensa sociedade secreta. Para os maçons as duas
coisas são perfeitamente compatíveis. No caso das confrarias, devem ter
perdido muito do seu encanto à medida que aderissem à onda de
"humanização". O fato é que para essa onda contribuiu bastante a nova
mentalidade pacifista que contagiou a juventude após as guerras da
Coréia e do Vietnam. No melhor estilo da contracultura, os estudantes
passaram a questionar o comportamento condicionado, a disciplina, a
hierarquia, o autoritarismo e o militarismo. O trote não ia ficar
excluído dessa contestação. Por outro lado, vem declinando a influência
e o status das confrarias na vida estudantil e profissional dos
universitários, a ponto de muitos membros acharem que "the extra time
involved in the pledging procedures seriously interferes with study
time". Nesse sentido, é compreensível a resistência dos novos calouros
quanto à aceitação passiva de trotes muito pesados, ou, como se
aventava ao final daquela década,

[There is a growing awareness of the unwillingness of new pledges to
accept extensive hazing, especially since so many of the fraternities
will have no postgraduate significance, and their roles in schools are
lessened. Some West Point cadets, who long cherished the abusing of
first-year cadets with a schedule of extended misery, have relented in
recent years – a breach of tradition old West Pointers look at with
dismay.] [...]


(transcribed from chapter three, "Uma universalidade nas universidades:
o trote through the world," pages 41-56; the English-language passages
were transcribed from Thomas A. Leemon's THE RITES OF PASSAGE IN A
STUDENT CULTURE: A STUDY OF THE DYNAMICS OF TRANSITION (New York:
Teachers College, Columbia University, 1972) and from Boyd McDonald's
collections of "true homosexual experiences," edited by Winston Leyland
and published by Gay Sunshine Press, San Francisco)

In his thesis, Steven Butterman also refers to Mattoso's
historical/sociological book:


[Mattoso's "Soneto Estudantil" is undoubtedly a poetic expression of the
extensive research that went into his 1985 sociological work, O CALVÁRIO
DOS CARECAS: HISTÓRIA DO TROTE ESTUDANTIL.] [4]

According to Butterman,

[O CALVÁRIO DOS CARECAS: HISTÓRIA DO TROTE ESTUDANTIL (1985) is clearly
Mattoso's most ambitious sociological study. In it, he examines
fraternity-student hazing since the Middle Ages, focusing on its
abundant homoerotic implications. Despite the formal and exhaustive
documentation evident in this text, an increasing colloquialism in
Mattoso's style can be perceived as early as the Table of Contents: "Se
esta fosse uma tese de pós-graduação pruma universidade americana,
caberiam aqui elegantes ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS. Mas, como não estamos nos
States e sim no país fora de série (e fora do sério), fica registradinho
o meu OBRIGADÍSSIMO OBRIGADÃO a [...]" Neologisms occur frequently in
this work, enhancing the effect of subversion of academic research. The
Introduction is re-named "Intróito," connoting religious sacrilege of
the Catholic mass, and the Conclusion is called "Epílogro," which, in
Portuguese, carries the connotation of deceit or cheating. The terms
"trote" and "calouro" are fundamental in both the work above and the
poem, "Soneto estudantil." "Trote" refers to fraternity-hazing as well
as to other tricks or practices that may be defined within the realm of
"sacanagem." "Calouro," meaning "freshman," is the fresh meat, the
newest member of the fraternity who has yet to be initiated. In his
work, Mattoso examines both the sadistic and ritualistic dimensions of
the initiation process.]


[NOTES]

[1] Click [BIBLIOGRAPHY].

[2] Click [SOURCES].

[3] Click [THE "FIXATION-FICTION" WRITER].

[4] Click [INFORMATIVE SADOMASOCHISM AND FETISHISM].

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