Carmen lived more than 24 years under the communism. She was born on July 3, 1965 and died at 49, at roughly the same age as Rosario Castellanos, who so powerfully wrote about cultural and gender oppression.
Carmen was an introverted spirit - that's for sure. But when somebody got her started, she would eloquently spoke for hours engaging in sophisticated arguments - mostly academic, but sometimes with highly practical overtones that got herself surprised. After the fact, I find this passionate speeches reflected a deep sadness.
At an adolescent age, she incorporated a sublimated eroticism of an imaginary friend (whose name I will not divulge) into short prose and poetry. This later developed into a strong affinity with the dynamic stories of Krishna and Radha. And yes she loved James Dean, fact which may be correlated with her adventures in the Gothic realm.
She made the mistake of showing her early writings to Matilda Caragiu-Marioteanu, who behaved in a dismissive and rude manner (speaking of gender oppressing like gender). The argument that both Carmen and Matilda were strong, opinionated characters (so... whatever!) does not hold water, since the "debate" between a child and a high-rank academic is uneven: the child always loses and marked forever by the rejection. So it's still oppressive. And Carmen learned her lesson every time somebody behaved dismissively towards her: learning her lesson meant she became more and more introverted, sometimes going to the extreme of creating an imaginary universe in which she felt safe and appreciated.
Carmen's destiny was textbook case of gender oppression, her potential and talent being willingly and unwillingly inhibited by societal cliches, interest groups in her fields (Indian literature and Philosophy, Esthetics, etc.), and yes, even the family caught in their own projects and dreams (notable exception - the moment she decided - and ultimately got the family's blessing - to switch from a Math/Physics school to a school in Languages). While that was a reprieve, she continued to be subjected to gender oppression. She faced everything with bravery, but never stood a chance - what could she do before 1989? Or even later? Like previously noted, she peacefully immersed herself deeper and deeper in an imaginary universe. Life truly became art! But everything was not OK.
To be clear, the church - through dogma and cult - in which she actually did not participate, was part of the problem. She hated religious fundamentalists. More than that, citing Jaspers, considered as absurd the claims that church attendance, baptism and communion were necessary conditions for salvation (these were actually mainstream). Adding insult to injury, she was fascinated by gender fluidity! The fact that some of her writings have - at places - soft, charming philosophical eastern orthodox overtones (in a style of artistic confessions, not surprisingly similar to - and adaptations of - the wonderful style of her explorations of the Indian esthetic thought and yoga) is, sadly, explainable by a necessity to pay a sort of "protection/cohabitation tax" to the paternalistic centers of the religious power (unfortunately with tentacles extended everywhere in Romania), hoping for a social truce or compromise that would preserve her own identity reflected in the spirit of her art, esthetics and theory. Therein lies a new danger to which she was subjected both before and after her death: cultural appropriation. In many respects it has been done (and will continue), but these notes represent the beginning of a long overdue duty of mine to push back.
But now, after years, the truth is that my dear Goth is free in her own esthetic Mahāparinirvāṇa (esthetic being the key word here, that is beyond the tentacles of organized religion and in perpetual enjoyment of the "deep field" network of beauty, music and love) and I became an Agnostic (with a touch of mindfulness). A sort of convergence.
