The shadow, in its traditional role, is a subtle yet powerful metaphor for the patriarchal assignments imposed upon women, the earth, and animals. All these entities, within patriarchal logic, belong to the object that exploits them, and their very existence is conditioned by that object. Their role is to relate, to complement, or to reflect, never to exist for themselves. They are the “shadows” of central and dominant figures: man, civilisation, rational thought.
In its classical definition, the shadow exists only in relation to another element. It is defined by what it reflects, unable, within this framework, to generate its own identity. Similarly, under patriarchy, women, nature, the earth, and animals are often relegated to the status of “mirrors” or auxiliaries—a dependent role, where their value is judged by their capacity to serve or magnify a central figure (man, civilisation, the human mind).
The shadow, though present everywhere, is rarely noticed. It is a silent certainty, integrated into the background, yet indispensable. This invisibility echoes how women, nature, the earth, and animals have been exploited without explicit recognition of their fundamental contributions. Their role is essential but erased, reduced to a utilitarian function. The shadow, without substance, impossible to exploit, is even more useless. It barely exists. Where does it go when it disappears? Could you imagine a machine or a living being capable of perceiving beyond the wavelengths of 400 to 700 nanometres? (lol)
The shadow is intrinsically linked to the ground, spreading over it or blending with it. This proximity reflects how women, nature, the earth, and animals have been associated with “low,” “primary,” or “instinctive” values. The shadow is never “raised” to the sky: it crawls, stretches, but does not ascend. This assignment to the ground, to heaviness, or horizontality, mirrors the patriarchal notion of a fixed condition, incapable of ascension or transcendence.
From a distance, the shadow seems motionless, yet it is in constant interaction with surrounding forces: lights, movements, textures, colours, and even absent colours. Ah, how beautiful the shadow is. By complementing the light, it gently sculpts space, it glides, fluid, always elegant in its movements. This sensual grace also caresses patriarchal stereotypes imposed on women and nature: to be adaptable, conciliatory, wise, and never to challenge the contours imposed upon them. Their actions are eternally rendered invisible, minimised, or co-opted by the vulture-men in their orbit. Shadows are gentle because they do not fight against the light. They only dance on command. They exist because they adapt to what dominates them. Without strong light, they are dead. But even with light, they are dead. There is nothing to fear.
If the shadow is an absence of light, it can also be considered a "visual silence." The shadow makes no sound. Only one other phenomenon is considered completely silent in scientific and cultural imagination: black holes. These “absorb” everything, including all possibilities of communication. The shadow is thus the only observable object that is 100% mute. It does not stir, it does not disrupt the established order. Its silence has been perceived as “wise.” This recalls how women and the earth have been labelled as “naturally” balanced, wise forces, but voiceless. Wisdom that “accepts” its fate. Two pathways to challenge this bullshit: First, it is evident that shadows provoke emotions or perceptions (mystery, unease, calm, sensuality) that can influence our listening and make us perceive sound negatively. Second, what if, on an imperceptible level, they contained frequencies or vibrations that we cannot detect? Has anyone ever tried designing a device for this? Probably not. Could we imagine a creature capable of perceiving it? Probably.
Odourless, without matter, without volume, without reliable contour, the shadow is not a serious subject of study. (For the curious, experiments on coloured shadows—zones of transition between presence and absence, between light and matter—are still somewhat mysterious). Our dear light, on the other hand, symbol of progress and rationality, revealed a secret 100 years ago so rich we still don’t know what to make of it : its photons are so useful and interesting that we don’t assign them one nature but two! (Ha Haa. So, one can be both material and immaterial? Got it!) Another privilege: it serves as a radiant standard for measuring space, time, and energy. Classy. Let us just remind the rational minds that Aristotle recommends a certain "logical square" to move beyond simple oppositions and think systematically. Shouldn't we use it to discover, through shadows, unexpected relationships or emerging categories? No need to panic; it remains ultra-structured!