by Nicole Yurcaba
During the Covid-19 pandemic, one overlooked employment sector came into full focus for a large swath of the global population: sex workers. The pandemic ravaged established sex workers’ professional and economic lives, but another phenomena also occurred–as professionals across all sectors lost their jobs, many turned to sex work as a means of income, despite the dangers the pandemic presented. However, while such a phenomena may be a bit taboo for the average American, Michal Witkowski’s groundbreaking novel Eleven-Inch (translated from the Polish by W. Martin) reveals that for Eastern Europeans, and particularly LGBTQ+ Eastern Europeans, after the fall of the Soviet Union sex work became not only a viable means of income, but also a means of escape from war-torn or politically ravaged countries.
Eleven-Inch is a brutally realistic novel of Baudelairean proportions. Readers meet Michal, a queer Polish sex worker known throughout the Viennese sex trade for his significant endowment which earns him not only the nickname “Eleven Inch,” but also a clientele of the upper-class variety. Meanwhile, surviving on the fringes of the Viennese underground sex scene is Milan, known as Dianka, a Slovakian queer sex worker who doesn’t experience Eleven Inch’s claim to sex trade fame and fortune. In fact, Dianka’s experiences, with the exception of a minor stint as a kept woman in a luxurious apartment owned by one of Vienna’s rich, are those of a street urchin, and her situation becomes so wretched that she illegally enters Switzerland after hearing of a magical city called Zurich, where money and chocolate flow one right after the other. However, Dianka’s experiences in Zurich aren’t any better than those in Vienna, and she again finds herself crossing paths with Eleven Inch, who, as luck may have it, is reveling in gold, Calvin Klein, fine make-up, and steady, high-paying customers.
Nonetheless, Eleven-Inch isn’t just chapter after chapter of Dianka and Michal’s sordid methods of survival. As Dianka lives on serving after serving of ice cream and chocolate, and while Michal’s seemingly ceaseless flow of cash offers fine hotels, nights in upscale apartments, and new Calvin Klein jeans and Louis Vuitton, readers discover an often-hidden-from-public-view existence. Given the novels 1993 setting, a time during which the former Soviet blocs were navigating not only their newfound autonomy but also an introduction to capitalism, Eleven-Inch offers a unique commentary about consumerism and materialism as both of its characters transcend the poverty and borders of their own respective countries and enter a ruthless, cutthroat business where workers answer to pimps and managers and live under the threat of deportation. Readers also encounter an existence where the ability to afford certain brands of clothes, house furnishings, and personal hygiene items shape an individual’s concept of self-betterment and economic success. Thus, the novel transforms into a unique criticism of the West’s economic and materialistic influences.
While Eleven-Inch’s subtle critiques of capitalism’s ruthlessness will attract readers, so will the ever-so-subtle philosophical insights sprinkled throughout the book. Michal, observant and introspective, is the novel’s true, though blunt, philosopher. Observations such as “But those who’ve hit rock bottom, or are about to, are no longer attractive, people can sense the loser in them and they turn away” are a note to readers that Michal has experienced enough of the system in which he works to know what happens to those who don’t play by the industry’s unspoken rules. Michal even possesses enough experience and self-awareness to develop his own survival code, which he refers to as his “Ten Commandments” and that consist of self-centered edicts like “You’re your own creator. You’re all that matters. You’re only in it for yourself.” At other points, Michal becomes confessional, stating “All my life decisions have been made under the influence of aesthetics. It’s the only thing that’s ever motivated me to do anything.” By the novel’s end, readers realize Michal’s character is the embodiment of a unique type of self-determination and work ethic.
Dianka serves as Michal’s antithesis. While Michal works toward self-improvement and economic betterment, Dianka fumbles, fixates on “those boxes of chocolate” and frequently finds herself “suddenly destitute.” Despite Michal’s warnings that she should take care of herself and her body, and at 16, she’s too young and naive to heed Michal’s advice about stealing from clients. Dianka is plagued by “The audacity, the fuckery of the universe.” To Eleven Inch, she’s a “muttonhead” riddled with “those super-dodgy typical Eastern European thoughts.” Nonetheless, Michal observes that despite their differing attitudes regarding their source of income and self-worth, and like him Dianka is “young, beautiful, skinny, and poor,”“from a new Eastern Europe, freshly liberated from the bonds of communism.” Though Dianka’s experiences are relevant to Eleven Inch’s own story, readers find that, ultimately, the novel is owned by Eleven Inch, since even Dianka’s story is told through his filter.
As part of Seagull Books’ The Pride List, Eleven-Inch is a primer, not only for seminal Polish literature, but also for the post-Soviet experience rarely discussed. For Western readers, particularly American ones, Michal and Dianka’s world will be a shocking, eyebrow-raising one, making the novel an even more important read than it already is. Despite being fiction, with its commentary about place, economics, pop culture, and environment, Eleven-Inch possesses the intellect and keen observation of nonfiction works like Henry Hoke’s Sticker. With its relevance to contemporary issues surrounding sex work, it’s sure to establish its rightful place in in both literature and conversation, because Dianka and Michal are marginalized characters that readers are unlikely to forget.
Nicole Yurcaba (Ukrainian: Нікола Юрцаба) is a Ukrainian-American poet and essayist. Her poems and essays have appeared in The Atlanta Review, The Lindenwood Review, Whiskey Island, Raven Chronicles, Appalachian Heritage, North of Oxford, and many other online and print journals. Nicole holds an MFA in Writing from Lindenwood University, is the recipient of a July 2020 Writing Residency at Gullkistan, Creative Center for the Arts in Iceland, and is a Tupelo Press June 2020 30 for 30 featured poet. Her poetry collection Triskaidekaphobia is forthcoming Black Spring Group in 2022. She teaches poetry workshops for Southern New Hampshire University and works as a career counselor for Blue Ridge Community College
