In 'More Lessons from a Starfish: Prefixial Flesh and Transspeciated Selves', Eva Hayward writes:"Regeneration is something that both transsexuals and starfish do. Transsexuals and starfish do other kinds of prefixial relationships between inside/outside, subject/object, or predator/prey, but in "re-" they share a phenomenological experience of reshaping and reworking bodily boundaries" (76). This short story is based on her writings.
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A short trans-story for trans and non-trans starfish and people
"We, transsexuals and starfish, are animate bodies; our bodies are experienced and come to be known through encounters with other animate bodies. These epistemological moves describe a shared phenomenological ontology. This is sensate intertwining-intercorporeal zones between these bodies in language and in experience. Starfish and transsexuals share worldhood both semiotic (as metonymic kinds) and phenomenological enactments—is this not some form of intercorporeality?" (Hayward 82)
A starfish wants to be a sea cucumber, another echinoderm. He never knew what to do with his five projecting arms, let alone with his tube feet. Also eating coral and snails just wasn't for him. He liked plankton and was more of a : he favored feeding on decomposing organic material and faecal matter. To him having the ability to extrude his stomach into very small gaps to collect more food, didn't really make sense. As if he could already know at this moment what he wanted to eat tomorrow? It didn't seem is if any of those typical starfish-things were his cup of tea. Other starfish made fun of him when he was younger because he swam in such a clumsy way. All because he just wasn't comfortable in his body. He tried to change his appearance, to look more like a sea cucumber. For this aim he wanted to remove his arms. At least than he would only be his central disk, able to slide on the bottom of the ocean. He'd dreamed about this for as long as he could remember. But it was not possible. Since he was a starfish, every part of his body that he wanted to change, returned every time in exactly the same form and shape. Starfish, you see, have the ability to regenerate themselves. Well, to this starfish this wasn't as great as humans might think, to him it was a curse. Every time he would cut an arm, it would grow back eventually. Once he managed to cut four of them in a short period of time, but than he couldn't do anything about the fifth one, since he didn't have other arms that could operate the knife. He thought about killing himself because if he couldn't feel at home in his starfish-body, what was the purpose of living? But he couldn't even commit suicide by himself. There for, he needed to find some being that could help to change his exterior or otherwise end his life. So, one day he decided to leave his starfish community to find some other beings, and hopefully another home.
The encounter with the whale
After a couple of hours swimming through the ocean, the starfish began to feel a bit hungry. He had left so sudden that he hadn't really packed anything in his stomach for the road. 'You see' he sighed, 'this is exactly why I am not a real starfish. I can't even make proper use of this stupid starfish body'. He sat down on some coral and started to reluctantly nibble on it when all of a sudden a whale passed him slowly. Immediately he turned his colors off so that the huge animal wouldn't notice him, and waited quietly for him to go away. The whale was not in a hurry though. It seemed to have found something interesting. The starfish saw an opportunity arising, because he knew that where there is a whale, there is probably some plankton! While he was trying to come a bit closer to see if there was some, the whale suddenly turned around. The starfish jumped and let out a soft scream out of fear. Of course the huge grey animal stared him right in the eyes. "I am so sorry", the starfish said softly, his voice breaking. "I am just an innocent starfish looking for something to eat". All his five arms were begging for mercy. The whale found it quite amusing, since he was not at all interested in eating this little creature. "I have never seen a starfish that looked so strange" he said. "It looks like someone beat you up! Are you hurt, Starfish?". The whale was referring to the scars on his body. The starfish relaxed a little, this whale was maybe one of the nice kinds. "No, I am alright, thank you. I did this myself, it's okay". This was not the answer the Whale expected to get. He frowned the eyebrows, or what would have been eyebrows if he had some. "Why would you hurt yourself like that? And how come you are still alive?!" The cuts on the starfish' skin were so deep that it seemed a miracle to him. "Please don't worry, I have the body of a starfish. Everything that gets damaged gets repaired almost immediately. It is not a problem at all. I am trying to change what I look like". "With pain?! By cutting yourself?!" replied the whale indignantly, but curious at the same time. "To me the moment I do it, I don't feel pain. If anything, I feel healed". The starfish explained. To it the cutting part made it feel as a generative act of healing. "To me it would seem that after that, at the moment it grows back, is the part that is the healing-part..." answered the whale. "No you don't understand. I am trying to transform my body, any attempt I do makes me feel a bit better. I can at least try you know. Even though by now it is obvious that my arms will just grow back again, the possibility that they might not return makes it worthwhile I guess. I could even say that it is not really about actually removing the arms anymore. It is more that I want to cut through the limits my body gives me, to make it into something liveable you know?" (scars) (Hayward 72-73). The whale was stunned, but also he thought he could understand it a little. Something about what the starfish was saying made sense. During the time he spend in Japan he had heard about the Kintsugi-method. Whenever a bowl or a cup breaks the Japanese put in together again by using a golden paint. It started when the favorite cup of a wealthy human broke one day. The human sent the broken pieces of the cup to China for repair but it came back looking less beautiful. In his own town an artisan offered to give it a try. And when the cup returned it wasn't the same cup, it was even more beautiful. The shattered pieces were brought back together by using golden threads between them. This started a tradition in Japan, bases on the idea that something damaged doesn't have to be thrown away. Instead it can be embraced. The cracks of the broken pottery makes it even more beautiful. The whale explained that he had heard about this to the starfish. "Those Japanese humans even throw their pots and cups on the ground on purpose because they like it even more with the cracks! It is like your scars to you!". Well the starfish was not so sure about that but it made some sense. When he cut himself he did not feel at all as if he was damaging himself. Instead with every cut and attempt to remove one of his projecting arms he felt better, as he at least was less like a starfish. By cutting he was transforming into something else, even though it seemed to be shocking to others, he felt more happy than if he didn't do anything. "I guess so, but I will never feel beautiful like those golden bowls, not in this body. Those crackled bowls are still bowls you know, they didn't become plates after they broke".
