Journal for Cultural Research, 2014

Vol. 18, No. 4, 275–290, http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/14797585.2014.941160

Gypsy fetish: music, dirt, magic, and freedom

Florentina C. Andreescua* and Sean P. Quinnb
a
International Studies Program, University of North Carolina Wilmington, Wilmington, NC, USA;
b
Public and International Affairs, University of North Carolina Wilmington, Wilmington, NC, USA
(Received 1 June 2013; accepted 1 February 2014)

This article offers a reading of Transylvania (2006) directed by Tony Gatlif. It

makes evident Gypsy identity’s unconscious dynamics when it occupies the position
of a fetish within the cinematic story and in the interaction of the viewer with the
exotic images on the screen. This specific reading argues that Gypsy fetish signals
and covers over a site of psychic pain for the protagonist as well as for the viewer.
Our argument insists that as a fetish Gypsy identity props up the social order. In this
sense Gypsy identity is not addressed as it often is as a symptom, or more specifi-
cally as a challenge to the social order, but instead the analysis renders it to be a
concealment of the lack around which the symbolic network is articulated. The arti-
cle further explores Gypsy identity’s music, magic, dirt, and freedom as its key char-
acteristics which conserve a potential access to what was disavowed and covered
over – a lost enjoyment.
Keywords: Gypsy; fetish; fetishism; Transylvania (2006); Lacan

Introduction
In Transylvania (2006), the viewer encounters the landscape of the Romanian countryside
during a car ride interrupted for moments as the camera focuses on the faces of villagers
encountered along the side of the road. It zooms in their features harshened by a life spent
mostly in the elements, as they sternly stare back at the camera. Besides the villagers, the
attention of the camera is attracted by a tree on which branches are placed numerous
pieces of colorful pottery, and finally it ends its journey on the symbol of an eye painted
on the wall of a church. These elements are part of an exotic encounter with Transylvania.
Amongst these exotic elements, Gypsy identity is the main focus of Tony Gatlif’s film.
This article brings attention to the popular fantasies about Gypsy identity and their
unconscious dimensions. It adds to the extensive literature on this topic by identifying a
specific unconscious process and exploring it in depth as connected to the way Gypsy
identity is depicted in the film Transylvania (2006) directed by Tony Gatlif. The salience
of Gypsy identity and Gypsy lifestyle in popular culture and films in particular is thought
to emanate from them constituting disruptions of the social order. More specifically, they
are often theorized as symptoms that introduce disharmony in a society that would
otherwise be harmonious (Stavrakakis, 1999, p. 133). Gypsy as symptom interrupts the
consistency of the field of our construction of reality, as it represents the destabilizing part
of nature excluded from its harmonious symbolization (Stavrakakis 1999, p. 214). In this
article, we present a reading of Transylvania (2006) which exposes Gypsy identity as a

*Corresponding author. Email: andreescuf@uncw.edu

© 2014 Taylor & Francis

276 F.C. Andreescu and S.P. Quinn

concealment of the lack around which the symbolic network is articulated. Our argument
insists that as a fetish Gypsy identity props up the social order. We aim to convey the
importance the process of fetishism has in the actual cinematic story as well as in the
fascination the film creates for its viewers. This particular reading shows that Zingarina,
the main character in Transylvania (2006), fetishizes Gypsy identity, while Zingarina
herself, in her new identity, becomes a fetishized image for the viewer. We chose to
analyze one of the Algerian-Roma film director Tony Gatlif’s films as his work came to
be accepted as the definitive film representation of Roma. Gatlif initially focused on the
French Roma while, most recently, in films such as Gadjo Dilo (1997) and Transylvania
(2006), he concentrated on the lives of the Roma in Balkans (Iordanova, 2002, p. 224).
The point of view through which we encounter Transylvania, and through which
the viewer experiences the car ride mentioned earlier, is that of a young Italian woman
called Zingarina, played by Asia Argento, who was left pregnant by her Transylvanian
musician lover Milan Agustin whom she believes to have been deported from France,
since one day he suddenly left without saying goodbye. Zingarina arrives in Transylva-
nia in search for Milan, accompanied by her friend Marie and an interpreter Luminita.
Zingarina enthusiastically declares that she is searching for love in these unknown
lands but her search takes an unexpected turn. When she finds Milan he bluntly rejects
her saying that he left France because he did not love her. Deeply affected by the
encounter with her beloved, Zingarina decides not to return to France but rather stays
in Transylvania and follows a homeless little Gypsy girl. In her wandering path, Zinga-
rina meets the traveling trader Tchangalo, played by Birol Ünel, with whom she seems
to experience a Gypsy lifestyle that is portrayed as a special, romantic, untouchable,
and blissful joy of life on the margin of society. Through their Gypsy lifestyle the two
Gadjos1 seem to have access to a form of enjoyment that belongs exclusively to the
mysterious Gypsies (Gocić , 2001, p. 84).
A key moment in the cinematic story is the dance Zingarina performs in a restau-
rant to the live-music of a Gypsy band immediately after her traumatic encounter with
Milan. While dancing, Zingarina keeps her eyes closed, and moves sensually to the
song’s rhythm. She unzips her dress and pulls it down on her hips uncovering half of
her body (Figure 1). The camera focuses on her uncovered body, on her legs wearing
high leather boots, on her movements, and then pans in on an image on the restaurant’s
wall. It is an iconic image of a lascivious Gypsy woman with her breasts exposed and
pushed forward as in a dance move (Figure 2). The camera associates Zingarina’s
image with the one of the Gypsy woman marking the point at which Zingarina
embraces a Gypsy identity. This scene helps elucidate the way Zingarina deals with the
traumatic acknowledgment of Milan’s lack of love for her (representing here the
Other’s desire). Zingarina refuses to confront the illusory nature of her romantic fanta-
sies built in connection to Milan. The viewer is allowed to see these fantasies as the
cinematic story makes them visible, once Zingarina hears Milan’s music and realizes
that he is in close proximity. She fantasizes a romantic reunion with her lover in which
she gains completion in his arms. The very next scene shows Milan bluntly rejecting
her, saying that he does not love her. The striking difference between phantasy and
reality is traumatic. Zingarina does not see what she was expecting to see – Milan’s
desire for her. The lack of love is experienced as a traumatic “hole” in the fabric of
reality. In this sense, the new fetishized identity evokes the consequence of castration
anxiety. Gypsy identity becomes a substitute for what Zingarina “once believed in and
… does not want to give up” (Freud, 1927, pp. 152–153). She gains relief through a
process of disavowal, substitution, and marking. The substitute functions as a mask,
 Journal for Cultural Research 277

Figure 1. In Transylvania (2006) Zingarina’s dance after being rejected by her lover Milan.

Figure 2. In Transylvania (2006) the screen becomes one-dimensional as the camera pans in on
an iconic Gypsy woman image.

covering over and disavowing the traumatic experience of Milan’s lack of love. Her
psyche constructs a phantasmatic topography, a surface, or carapace, which hides lack
and anxiety with beauty and desire. Zingarina’s new Gypsy identity also commemo-
rates. It is a sign left by the original moment of castration anxiety and is also a mark
of mourning for the lost object of desire (Mulvey, 1996, p. 5). In this sense, Gypsy
identity encompasses attributes that Zingarina associated with Milan: music, magic, and
freedom. By displacing her desire for Milan onto Gypsy identity, Zingarina can con-
tinue to deny the loss of her lover’s desire, and to enact fantasies of completion con-
nected to a Gypsy lifestyle.
The dance scene depicts Zingarina in her newly acquired Gypsy identity as a cine-
matic fetish that fascinates the viewer. The scene allows for scopophilic enjoyment,
which arises from pleasure in using another person as an object of sexual stimulation
through sight (Mulvey, 1975, p. 837). The cinema from its earliest days has fascinated
its audience as a spectacle, and its fascination is closely linked to the process of dis-
avowal. As Christian Metz puts it:

even though no spectator ‘does believe it’, everything happens as if there were nonetheless
someone to be deceived, someone who really would ‘believe in it’. Behind any fiction
seems to be a second fiction: the diegetic events are fictional, that is the first; but everyone
pretends to believe that they are true, and that is the second; there is even a third: the
278 F.C. Andreescu and S.P. Quinn

general refusal to admit that somewhere in oneself one believes they are genuinely true.
(Metz, 1982, p. 72)

What is significant to note in Zingarina’s dancing scene is the absence of a charac-

ter’s point of view with which the spectator identifies. Instead, Zingarina’s uncovered
body is in direct erotic rapport with the spectator. The beauty of Zingarina as an
object and the screen space coalesce. She becomes an idealized product, whose body
is the content of the film, and the direct recipient of the spectator’s look. In this
scene, Zingarina’s visual presence works against the development of the film’s story
line, freezing the flow of action in moments of erotic contemplation (Mulvey, 1975,
p. 837). The camera focuses on her sensuously moving body in a fetishistic shot to
create an impression of time slowing and ultimately stopping once the camera pans
in on the iconic Gypsy image. We are referring here to the subjective impression of
time, as distinct from real time. Subjective refers not to the point of view of a char-
acter in the film, but rather to the private impression of a viewer of the film. Only
the subjectivity of the viewer can account for the impression that different parts move
at different speeds, or that there is “rhythm” to the film, when all parts of all films,
in fact, progress at precisely the same speed (Harris, 1992, pp. 36–37). The scene
also plays down the illusion of screen depth, by closely focusing on Zingarina and
then panning in on the Gypsy woman image. This panning in creates the impression
of flatness, the quality of a cut-out or icon rather than verisimilitude to the screen,
and finally when panning in on the Gypsy image the screen becomes
one-dimensional (Mulvey, 1975, p. 838).
It is important to point out that the process by which the fetish acknowledges its
own traumatic history in Zingarina’s case is similar to how it signals a site of psychic
pain in regard to the fascinations it creates within viewers. Transylvania (2006) fasci-
nates through its abundant display of music, vivid colors, exuberance, exotic faces, and
locations. Psychoanalytic film theory suggests that mass culture can be interpreted as a
massive screen on which collective phantasy, anxiety, fear, and their effects can be pro-
jected. It speaks of the blind-spots of a culture and finds forms that manifest socially
traumatic material, through distortion, defense, and disguise (Mulvey, 1996, p. 12). At
the societal level, fetishes can be seen as the displacements onto objects (or images) of
contradictions that the individual or the community cannot resolve. The fetish marks a
crisis in social meaning as the embodiment of an impossible resolution. Manipulating
the fetish, the individual gains symbolic control over what otherwise would be terrify-
ing ambiguities (McClintock, 1995, p. 184). In this sense, Werner Cohn argues that the
Gypsies persist so abundantly in our fantasies because they, or groups like them, are
needed in our culture (Cohn, 1973, p. 61).The Dutch anthropologist Mattijs van de Port
augments that the imaginary world built around the Gypsies nourishes itself on soci-
ety’s raw and enigmatic emotions and instincts (van de Port, 1998, p. 153). Gypsy fet-
ish expresses the desire for experiencing what in Lacanian theory is called jouissance.
Jouissance is understood here in connection to our entrance, as humans, within the
Symbolic realm (the medium of language) and to the price paid to accomplish this
entrance. This price is the loss of the full body enjoyment, as instead of direct access
to our bodies, the Symbolic realm imposes an indirect relationship with the body via
the medium of language. Once lost, the pleasure given up seems all the more valuable.
In this way, naïve and simple bodily pleasure is transformed into jouissance – some-
thing far more erotic, dirty, bad, and evil, something really exciting. Lacanian theory
stresses the intimate relationship between desire and castration: I desire precisely what
 Journal for Cultural Research 279

I sacrificed (Fink, 1997, p. 67). In relating this discussion to Gypsy fetish, it is tanta-
mount to specify that Gadjo children’s first encounter the Gypsy identity in the context
of the prohibition of uncontrolled behavior. Children who swear or who argue con-
stantly and noisily, who are disrespectful of rules, and who have an untidy appearance
are compared with Gypsies. Gadjo children learn that they have Gypsy tendencies
inside them which need to be given up or controlled (van de Port, 1998, p. 154). In
this way an association is formed between Gypsies and the inner human instincts, wild-
ness, and lack of control that lurks in every body, all of which are prohibited by the
social law (van de Port, 1998, p. 155). Because of the association between the Gypsy
identity and the lost enjoyment, Gypsies are perceived as possessing something that is
precious and belongs to the Gajos, and that was taken away through theft. In this
regard, popular culture portrays Gypsies as cunning skillful thieves. In Transylvania
(2006), once Zingarina embodies Gypsy identity, she is regarded with great distrust by
the people around her, especially by Tchangalo’s business partners. He is constantly
warned to stay away from the cunning Gypsy woman. Zingarina herself searches for
Milan’s love, and ultimately for a Gypsy lifestyle as she assumes these hold the secret
to and ultimately will grant her access to happiness. With tears in her eyes, she says to
her friend Marie that she wants to be like the people who are happy. Access to happi-
ness is associated throughout the film with Gypsy lifestyle, for which reason we claim
that we are dealing with a fetish. The film marks the moment in which Zingarina deci-
des to stay in Transylvania with a poem:

I love him more than my life.

My heart is sad.
I watch in envy those lucky enough to be happy with their lives.
Give me a bundle of twigs to set the world on fire.

Christopher Kocela notes that the concept of fetish dates back to 1757 when it was first
introduced as fétichisme by the French writer Charles de Brosses. Pietz’s (1987) specifies
that fetisso was used in the context of interactions between Portuguese traders and the
native tribes of the Gold Coast of Africa, describing what merchants of the time saw as
African overinvestment of value in “trifling objects.” Fetishism was discussed by Kant
and Hegel before it became an important element in Marx’s and Freud’s influential theo-
ries (Kocela, 2010, pp. 33–40). Both Marx and Freud address the fetish as a mask hiding
processes (Shapiro, 1984, p. 397). Marx’s theory of commodity fetishism, presented in
Capital in 1867, sees the commodities produced in capitalist economies as fetishes
because they mask through their monetary or exchange value their history of production
(Marx, Moore, Aveling, Engels, & Untermann, 1906, p. 183). Freud’s essay “Fetishism”
published in 1927, describes the fetish as an object through which the male is able to dis-
avow the traumatic truth that his mother is castrated. The fetish is a substitute for the
mother’s missing penis and in this way sustains the fetishist’s contentment with the
female body as an object of desire (Kocela, 2010, p. 2). Freud introduces the concept
Verleugnung, a term that has been rendered in English as disavowal. He develops the
notion to account for a curious attitude he detects in certain young boys who, when con-
fronted with girl’s genitals, deny that the girl does not have a penis and claim that they
in fact see one (Fink, 1997, p. 167). In such cases, the perception or sight of the female
genitals is disavowed. One finds a twofold attitude regarding the fact that women do not
have penises: they disavow the perception, maintaining a belief in what Freud terms the
“maternal phallus,” but develop symptoms which seem to indicate that this perception
280 F.C. Andreescu and S.P. Quinn

has nevertheless been registered at some level (Fink, 1997, p. 167). Octave Mannoni
(1969) summarizes the logic of disavowal in the following phrase: “Je sais bien, mais
quand meme …” (I know very well, but nevertheless …”) (qtd. in Kocela, 2010, p. 9).
The Lacanian framework of analysis theorizes the fetish through a reworking of the
Freudian theory, distinguishing the penis from the phallus. For Lacan, the phallus
becomes a metaphor referring to the first signifier. The phallus is the signifier of the
Other’s desire (Lacan, 1958); furthermore, it is the signifier of lack in the Other (Krips,
1999, p. 8). The accession to subjectivity involves introducing the subject into an econ-
omy of lack defined in relation to the phallus (Krips, 1999, pp. 8–9). In a 1956 essay
entitled “Fetishism: The Symbolic, The Imaginary and the Real,” Lacan and Granoff
argue that there are always two dimensions to the problem of fetishism: one concerns
the meaning of the fetish in the register of the Symbolic; the other exists in a “dimen-
sion where meaning seems to be lost” (Lacan & Granoff, 1956, p. 268), the realm of
the Imaginary in which fetishism marks the drift of the drive (Kocela 2010, p. 48).
Ultimately, Lacan & Granoff (1956, p. 272) argue, fetishism always expresses the oscil-
lation between these two dimensions: “between Imaginary and Symbolic relationships
there is the distance that separates anxiety and guilt, and it is here that fetishism is
born” (qtd. in Kocela, 2010, p. 48). Fetishism highlights not only the interaction
between the Symbolic and the Imaginary registers, but also the fact that the Real
emerges out of this interaction. The Real can be known only through the Symbolic and
the Imaginary, emerging as a limitation or “hole” in what can be represented in each
(Kocela, 2010, p. 50). In this sense, a fetish conceals the lack (castration) around which
the symbolic network is articulated (Žiž ek, 1989, p. 49). Furthermore, various objects
are capable of standing in for the loss of what Lacan calls das Ding – the Thing that is
already lost as soon as one begins to separate from that “oceanic oneness” with the
mother (Kocela, 2010, p. 48). As Louise Kaplan argues fetishism entails the substitu-
tion of something tangible (pertaining to the Symbolic) for something that is otherwise
ephemeral and enigmatic (pertaining to the Real). In this manner, some essential
unknown that seems to have a will and energy of its own, is transformed into some-
thing tangible and concrete and therefore capable of being controlled and manipulated
(Kaplan, 2006, p. 5). The much coveted and elusive state of happiness that Zingarina
pursues in Transylvania (2006) is associated/substituted with something that she can
embody, hence possess and control.
In Transylvania (2006), Gypsy fetish brings certain details into the foreground of
experience in order to mask and disguise other features that are thus cast into the shad-
ows (Kaplan, 2006, p. 6). Zingarina starts wearing Gypsy attire, sleeps outside in the
elements, does not worry about bathing, makes passionate love in close proximity of a
wild bear, and gives birth outside in the cold Romanian snowy winter. The powerful
presence of these new elements disguises and covers over the absences that would
otherwise remind of something traumatic. Assuming Gypsy identity is the way
Zingarina deals with her radical lack. The attention is redirected from what is lacking
toward the fetish which functions as a delaying mechanism, creating a safe distance
from where one can continue to desire (Krips, 1999, p. 32). The dramatic and vivid
visibility of the Gypsy fetish serves to dazzle and confuse, blinding the viewer from
other, potentially more troubling implications that are thus cast into the shadows
(Kaplan, 2006, p. 6). It is important to note that the only characters that the viewer is
introduced to in Transylvania (2006) as fully human are Gadjos. The Gypsy characters
appear as part of the background texture. As part of the décor they have no history,
desires, or personal stories. They take on a flat pastoral form, always inhabiting
 Journal for Cultural Research 281

presented scenery but ultimately failing to invoke any substantial depth. In this sense,
the Gypsy characters are deadened and brought into the story solely as a part of Gypsy
fetish through which Zingarina and Tchangalo search for jouissance. Just a few
examples are: The stern faces of the villagers encountered on the road as the car passes
in the first moments of the film, the young Gypsy dancer performing in one of the bars
where Zingarina is searching for Milan, the Gypsy women who read her fortune, and
the women who help her give birth feared by Zingarina to be witches.
Amongst the most prominent aspects of Gypsy fetish we identify: music, dirt, magic,
and freedom. These are attributes characterizing both Milan Augustin and the idealized
Gypsy identity. Milan is a musician, whose elusive character is depicted in magical tones
as part of Zigarian’s phantasy and as an artist performing in a festival; this festival creates
a sense of exuberance and employs an abundance of color, music, and dance which brings
it closer to a phantasmatic plane then to reality. Furthermore, when Milan vanishes with
no word of explanation, Zingarina assumes that he was removed from France, as he is
easily thought of as an illegal disrupting the social order. Milan proves to indeed embody
the idea of freedom as he refuses to “belong” to a person, to Zingarina in this case, or to a
place, as he leaves willingly France. It is not only Milan but also most of the film’s
characters that are introduced to the viewer via music and dance with little or no
explanation. Various characters seem to emerge out of the music rhythm and enter the cin-
ematic story flowing with and dancing on it. This is the case with Tchangalo’s friend,
from whom Tchangalo receives the advice to visit a priest for an exorcism, friend made
present through music and dance, and the numerous dancers and musicians crowding the
cinematic space unexpectedly. Music and dancing are part of most scenes, just a few
examples are: Zingarina and Marie exploring the restaurants with live-bands in
Transylvania where we are engulfed with a tumult of strong rhythms on which move sen-
sually with an equal tumult of exotic dancing bodies; the tragic encounter between
Zingarina and Milan is initiated by her recognizing his piano music, as if it is an essential
trait of her lover; Zingarina’s drunken dancing and breaking of plates while listening to
the song of a Gypsy singer, in an attempt to deal with the painful encounter with Milan;
and Tchangalo’s hiring of a Gypsy band to perform for him in an empty frozen field. The
tight connection between the Gypsy identity and music is not solely depicted in
Transylvania (2006) but music has always been a key element of Gypsy identity (Currid,
2006, p. 189). Across Europe, the image of a Gypsy has been intimately associated with
various forms of music and musicality since the mid-nineteenth century. Composers like
Liszt and Brahms made the Gypsy a centerpiece of the cultural fantasies of Central
European art music. In literature and popular culture as well, the figure of a Gypsy has
been always associated with innate musicality (Currid, 2006, p. 191; Pogany, 2004,
p. 67). Very often music accompanies Gypsy characters in films. Besides Transylvania
(2006), we can notice the centrality of music in movies such as: Gypsies Are Found Near
Heaven (1976), The Man Who Cried (2000), The King of Gypsies (1980), Latcho Drom
(1993), Time of Gypsies (1990), Black Cat, White Cat, (1998) and I Met a Happy Gypsy,
too (1967).
Especially in Tony Gatlif’s films music is a central element. For example, in Latcho
Drom (1993) the long Gypsy travel from India to different parts of Europe is entirely
rendered through music and dance, creating the impression that music represents the
core of Gypsy life. A second film directed by Tony Gatilf, Gadjo Dilo (1997) focuses
on a French Gadjo, Stephane who travels to Romania in search of a Gypsy singer,
Nora Luca. In both Transylvania (2006) and Gadjo Dilo (1997), the film plot is trig-
gered by an obsessive search for a musician. Within the cinematic Gypsy world, music
282 F.C. Andreescu and S.P. Quinn

is associated with and used as a venue to safely approach and live jouissance – a
strange state of extreme exaltation and at the same time deep sadness, so intense that
one tends to hurt oneself (Gocić , 2001, p. 85). This is the case as jouissance is located
in a beyond of Freud’s pleasure principle, that is to say, it constitutes a special form of
taking delight in suffering (Lander & Filc, 2006, p. 62). For example, in Transylvania
(2006) Tchangalo pays a group of Gypsy musicians to play for him in a snowy, frozen
field. Tchangalo covers his head and eyes with a scarf that Gypsy women are seen
wearing and while drinking and dancing breaks bottles on his own head. Tchangalo
experiences painful pleasure in a strictly designed phantasy scenario. In this scenario,
he aims to cover over his own lacking self with a fetishized identity – by covering his
face with a Gypsy scarf (a gesture suggesting an attempt to escape or erase his own
person and history) – listening to the Gypsy band and dancing out in the frozen, snowy
empty road (Figure 3). Similarly in I Met a Happy Gypsy, too (1967), the Gypsy hero
Beli Bora is so moved by the music that he breaks glasses and, placing the spiky
remains on the table, hits them with open palms, deliberately cutting himself. He laughs
at his folly, but his laughter turns into crying (Gocić , 2001, p. 85). We find a similar
situation in Time of Gypsies (1990) directed by Emir Kusturica when the gypsy hero
Perhan finds out that his girlfriend is pregnant with a baby that he believes is not his,
he gets drunk listening to Gypsy music. Driven by the intense emotion he hurts him-
self. First he bites off part of a wine glass and then he burns himself by pressing a lit
cigarette against his arm. The band is warned: “Stop the music! You’ll drive him
crazy!” (Gocić , 2001, p. 88).
Because the fetish represents a conflation of an actual object with phantasy (Bass,
2000, p. 28), it tends to be perceived as a magic object. In many cases Roma are quite
aware of the powerful effect their presence has on Gadjos and they can play along
making it work to their advantage. Roma can work on Gadjos fears and fantasies in
order to protect themselves or to obtain monetary gains by invoking various fortune-
telling abilities, curses and mysterious powers (ní Shuinéar, 1997, p. 26). We find out
from Werner Cohn that within the mind of Roma fortunetelling for example is a means
of earning money. The idea that there could be any validity in what fortune-teller tells
the client is generally ridiculous to the Roma. Furthermore, it would be considered
most shameful for a Roma of either sex to have his or her fortune told by a Roma
woman (Cohn, 1973, p. 36). Similar to the majority of the films dealing with Gypsy
identity, Transylvania (2006) includes a scene in which Zingarina has her fortune told
by a Gypsy woman. Luminita calls Zingarina to join her for having her fortune read by
Gypsies. The camera introduces us to the fortuneteller by focusing first on her

Figure 3. In Transylvania (2006) Tchangalo hurts himself while in an intense state of pleasure
induced by Gypsy music.
 Journal for Cultural Research 283

roughened hands with dirty fingernails handling cards with unfamiliar colorful draw-
ings. We hear the woman speaking in Romani language, while Luminita translates for
Zingarina in French. She foretells a great happiness next to the man whom Zingarnia is
searching for. The camera allows us to see a Gypsy young woman bringing a coffee
cup from which Zingarina drinks and is instructed to turn it over and make on it the
sign of the cross. The fortuneteller’s hand takes the cup and continues her reading, say-
ing that it was difficult for this man to leave Zingarina; that he is crying for her, and
that she’ll meet him again. While the camera focuses mostly on Zingarina’s emotional
reactions to these words, it also allows us to finally see the fortuneteller dressed in
Gypsy attire and accompanied by an older similarly dressed woman. Because of the
dimmed light of the restaurant and the live-music in the background this scene becomes
rendered in a particularly exotic manner. It evokes numerous other scenes in which
Gypsy women are portrayed as having access to mystical powers and knowledge,
encountered in films such as: Carmen (2003), Drag me to Hell (2009), King of the
Gypsies (1978), The Virgin and the Gypsy (1970), Gypsies Are Found Near Heaven
(1976), and Time of Gypsies (1990). It is important to note that the term fetish derives
from the medieval Portuguese word feitiço, which meant sorcery or magical arts. The
earliest European discourse on fetishism concerned witchcraft and the clerical denuncia-
tion of illicit popular rites and illicit female sexuality (McClintock, 1995, pp. 185–186).
Chasseguet-Smirgel argues that the fetish inhabits a magical and artful universe, a
“marvelous and uncanny world” (Chasseguet-Smirgel, 1984, pp. 87–88). This is espe-
cially true for Gypsy fetish which facilitates the construction of an alternative social
order as well as a different space–time relationship (Bancroft, 2005, p. 53). Gypsies are
envisioned as lacking a sense of history and as living in a timeless universe (Fonseca
1995; Iordanova, 2002). In this sense, the Gypsy cinematic world is presented by film
directors, such as Tony Gatlif and Emir Kusturica, through a frame of reference tran-
scending concrete social frameworks which ultimately dwells in a fantasy world, such
as dreams and imagination. For example, Transylvania (2006)’s loose story line resem-
bles the workings of a dream. The fetishized symbol of an eye, which Zingarina says
is used for protection, is made present in various settings and becomes the sole focus
of the camera a number of times rendering the screen one-dimensional. The symbol of
the eye appears on Zingarina’s palm (Figure 4), on the church wall, and engraved on a
tree.
As if in a dream, Zingarina and Tchangalo enjoy the light of a beautiful crystal can-
delabrum that looks surreal because it is placed in the middle of the woods. What fur-
ther creates a dreamy atmosphere is the fact that the film’s settings are suddenly
populated with singers, musicians, and exotic dancers who seem to appear from
nowhere and engulf the heroine and the film story within their rhythm of sound and
movement. In a main scene, once Zingarina is faced with Milan’s rejection that shutters
her phantasy, she walks on a street invaded by the frenzy of the Winter Customs Festi-
val (Fetivalul Datelor de Iarna). Influenced by a mix of ancient pagan and Christian
beliefs the festival parades a multitude of masks portraying demons, wooden goats
clapping to ward off evil spirits, music, and people dressed in traditional folk attire
walking while performing various dances. The images mentioned as well as the scene
of exorcism that Zingarina undergoes in an Orthodox church are colorful, relying
entirely on the exotic Romanian language, and one could say are rendered “magical”.
They are fetishistic images because they glitter, mesmerize, and attract the gaze. This
investment in surface appearance enhances the phantasmatic space of the fetish
(Mulvey, 1996, p. 6). As Iulia Hasdeu notes Gypsies are portrayed as belonging to an
284 F.C. Andreescu and S.P. Quinn

Figure 4. In Transylvania (2006) the fetishized symbol of an eye is a strong presence within
the film.

orgiastic space–time out of line with normality (Hasdeu, 2008, p. 350). Similarly in
Time of Gypsies (1990), a house is lifted and left hanging in the rain suggests an over-
all volatility, while the Gypsy settlement located amidst ancient Roman ruins suggest a
harmonious coexistence with long-forgotten past, one that is only possible for those
who are outside the conventional framework of time and history (Iordanova, 2002,
p. 69). In the same film, dreams and reality seem to have the same textual consistency.
In a dream, we see the Gypsy hero Perhan flying during a most visually striking
St. George’s celebration. Returning to reality we witness the same sort of events: a
bride is flying and Perhan kills with his telekinetic powers the man who took advantage
of his family.
As the previously mentioned hand of the fortuneteller displaying dirty fingernails,
the phantasmatic world of the Gypsies is further shaped by an association with dirt,
filth, and mud. In most cases, the objects depicted as dirty are simultaneously depicted
as magical and as objects of desire. In Transylvania (2006) Zingarina, after adopting a
Gypsy style of life, in an intimate moment mentions the fact that she did not wash her-
self for more than two weeks. To this comment, her lover Tchangalo responds that he
enjoys her smell. In Gadjo Dilo (1997), Stephan is intensely aroused by a Gypsy
woman’s use of dirty language. In I Met a Happy Gypsy, too (1967), the young Gypsy
girl Tissa engages in sexual relations while the next scene shows her being physically
abused and dragged through the mud. Dirt and untidiness are particularly specific to
the setting of Transylvania (2006) in which the roads are all covered in mud. In one
scene mud totally covers Zingarina and Marie’s car’s windows, obscuring their view.
Zingarina and Tchangalo use second-hand dusted clothing. The restaurants they are
seen in have moldy walls that contrast with the vivid colors and rich fabrics of the tap-
estry, the pieces of furniture, beautiful lamps, and candelabrums displayed throughout
the film. A similar situation is encountered in Time of Gypsies (1990), in which one
can’t tell whether houses appear to be not quite finished or are in fact falling apart.
There is no street grid. The continual comings and goings are governed by nothing
except an untidy pattern of intercrossing wagon trails, interspersed with deep puddles
of mud. Similarly, the film director Aleksandar Petrovic paints the world of the Gypsies
as one big mud pool in his I Met a Happy Gypsy, too (1967) in which houses are tiny
with hollow-eyed windows. Both films texture a reality with mud everywhere (van de
Port, 1998, p. 147). Feces are equally present within the Gypsy cinematic world: In
Kusturica’s Black Cat, White Cat (1998) the Gypsy gangster Dadan falls into a toilet.
 Journal for Cultural Research 285

In The Man Who Cried (2000), the horse belonging to the Gypsy hero while part of a
stage decorum, leaves its feces onstage of a crowded Paris opera house causing the star
opera singer to rant about the Gypsy dirtiness and filthiness.
In analyzing dirt as a central category within Gypsy phantasmatic identity, it is rele-
vant the fact that Gadjo children learn to associate Gypsies with dirt, mud and other
dirty things. Mattijs van de Port observes that children coming home covered in mud
are scolded for being as black as a Gypsy (van de Port, 1998, p. 154). William A.
Cohen explains that people are considered filthy when they are felt to be unassimilably
other, while actions, behaviors, and ideas are considered filthy when they partake of
the immoral, the inappropriate, the obscene, or the unaccountable. All of these versions
of filth seem to serve in establish sharp distinctions that pronounce: “That is not me”
(Cohen & Johnson, 2005, pp. ix–x).
Gypsy identity in Gadjo fantasy stands for the lost pre-oedipal self, untamed by the
symbolic order. Julia Kristeva insists that this pre-oedipal basis that the symbolic order
must disavow is associated with the abject (Kristeva, 1982). This contextualizes Gypsy
identity’s association with pollution and dirt. Pollution, while it is often represented in
form of dirt and filth, as is suggested by Mary Douglas’ definition of dirt as “matter
out of place,” is, in fact a moral category that is expressed in symbolic form. Dirt is
simply matter that, within a particular framework, appears in the wrong location, and
so violates and disrupts a sense of order in the world (Cohen & Johnson, 2005, p. xi).
For something to cross a boundary, especially one that is marked by a strong and com-
monly held symbolism, is to pollute the space. The space of pollution is the space of
Gypsy, as its identity is the embodiment of that which transcends the social law
(Hetherington, 2000, p. 21). An interesting aspect to point out is that while Gadjos see
themselves as clean and hygienic and believe the Gypsies to be dirty, Romani people
see Gadjos as dirty and lacking in a sense of shame (Stewart, 1997, p. 206). This refers
to the treatment of the body, as Gadjos are unaware of the need to keep the upper and
lower parts of the body separated. For example, the Roma consider the Gadjo habit of
lying in a bath equivalent to “lying in one’s own filth” and thereby is perceived as
revolting (Stewart, 1997, p. 207).
By disrupting the social order dirt could be further associated with the idea of free-
dom, that is another theme strongly present in Transylvania (2006). Gypsy identity is
envisioned and desired as the very epitome of freedom. The romanticized idea about
Gypsies’s freedom is influencing Tchangalo’s views. In this sense, he refers to the
homeless little girl, who has grown up in the streets, as truly free and without need of
anything or anybody. He adopts a similar lifestyle sleeping weeks at a time in his car
without bathing, claiming that he “freaks out” between hotel walls. Similarly to
Zingarina, Tchangalo romanticizes Gypsy lifestyle and embraces it, teaching Zingarina
how to adjust to it, to cook and sleep in open woods, to cure pain with a magical
stone, and to make a living by trading antique objects and jewelry. Here we can see a
difference between the two men Zingarina loves. Even though Milan is a native of
Transylvania, he seems to be disconnected from Zigarina’s phantasmatic scenario of
finding love and happiness in the arms of an exotic musician in an equally exotic loca-
tion. Tchangalo, although a Gadjo, fully participates in Zingarina’s phantasy weaved
around a Gypsy lifestyle and hence the strong bond that develops between them. As
they both embody Gypsy identities they in turn fascinate the viewer, as they stand for
an enactment of true enjoyment and freedom, emerging as representatives of true
“Gypsiness.” One could argue that Tchangalo and Zingarina are closer representations
of the Gypsy ideal then the people from Transylvania showed throughout the film.
286 F.C. Andreescu and S.P. Quinn

The association between Gypsies and freedom is abundantly present in literary

pieces, songs, films that praise their freedom from nine-to-five jobs, freedom from hav-
ing to attend to personal hygiene, freedom from sexual restrictions, freedom from the
burden of material possessions, freedom from responsibility, and freedom from the law
(Hancock, 1999, p. 106). Adopting the identity of a Gypsy, Zingarina frees herself from
inhibitions: she loudly speaks her mind, drinks heavily, lets her wild emotions show,
sings loudly while riding a bike, and playfully boxes Tchangalo in the middle of the
road before the stupefied eyes of an old man. The film shows Zingarina and Tchangalo
in a state of radical enjoyment. They are emptied of their personal histories, thoughts,
inhibitions, and instead portrayed as embodiments of Gypsy identity. This embodiment
is so complete that it is almost rendered grotesque. Once embracing the Gypsy fetish,
there is no trace of the former life and identity. When asked by Tchangalo who she
really was and how she ended up on the streets of Transylvania, Zingarina answers:
“Imagine anything you like, I’ve done it.” Furthermore she is referred to as “the
woman with no name” by a local villager, alluding again to Zingarina’s loss of personal
history (Figure 5).
As previously mentioned, the two characters are depicted as having access to a sort
of enjoyment that is envisioned to pertain solely to the Gypsies, thus they are perceived
as existing outside the social order, Gypsies have access to a kind of enjoyment that
escapes Gajos. This surplus of enjoyment represents what the subject usually sacrifices
in order to live as a “normal” member of the community (Žiž ek, 1992, p. 125).
Through the process of fetishism the lost enjoyment is substituted with the image of
Gypsy. Gypsies represent the unpredictable forces of authentic desire – not an ordered
liberty from rule but the free exercise of will and caprice, or of radical freedom
(Lemon, 2000, p. 37). Films such as: The Man Who Cried (2000), The Virgin and the
Gypsy (1970), and The King of the Gypsies (1978) present Gypsy male heroes as sym-
bols of authentic freedom. Nevertheless Gypsy women, in films such as Carmen
(2003), Gadjo Dilo (1997), and Gypsies Are Found Near Heaven (1976), “fiery and
temperamental” personify freedom more forcefully than their male counterparts
(Lemon, 2000, p. 37). We here emphasize that an extraordinary discrepancy exists
between the real and the perceived state of the Roma women’s freedom (Hancock,
1999, p. 107). Among the Roma people shame and not freedom is prototypically asso-
ciated with women, their bodies, and their sexuality (Stewart, 1997, p. 211). At the
same time, Gadjo women are seen as depraved and out of control. From the Roma’s
point of view, their lack of restraint is comic, if not grotesque, and a sign of a promis-
cuous sexuality (Stewart, 1997, pp. 212–213). Furthermore, instead of being associated
with freedom, the history of the Roma people can hardly be matched in terms of
oppression and injustice. Since their very entry into Europe from Asia seven and a half
centuries ago they have been the victims of slavery, genocide, deportation, and torture.
For more than four hundred years, until 1856, Roma were slaves in Wallachia and
Moldavia, the feudal principalities that with Transylvania now make up modern
Romania (Fonseca, 1995, p. 177). The terms “Gypsy” and “slave” were interchangeable
in describing a particular social caste (Fonseca, 1995, p. 180). Romani history includes
the tragic events that occurred during the Romani holocaust when up to 1,500,000
European Roma were killed by death squads and in death camps (McVeigh, 1997,
p. 19). Nazis dealt with Roma people with incarceration, expulsion, sterilization, and
finally extermination (Hancock, 1999, p. 106).
 Journal for Cultural Research 287

Figure 5. In Transylvania (2006) Zingarina follows Vandana, a Gypsy homeless girl, on the
road to “Gypsy freedom”.

Concluding thoughts
By directing its attention to the level of phantasy this article conveyed how Gypsy
identity captures desire. Phantasy constructs a vision of society free from antagonism, a
society complete in itself holding the key for accomplishing desire. It is important to
remember that the domain of phantasy does not belong to the individual level. As a con-
struction that attempts to cover over the lack in the Other, phantasy belongs initially to
the social world and is a key element in understanding the functioning of socio-political
life (Stavrakakis, 1999, p. 34). At the level of phantasy Gypsy fetish marks a crisis in
social meaning as the embodiment of an impossible irresolution. This contradiction may
originate as social contradiction but is lived with profound intensity in the imagination
and the flesh (McClintock, 1995, p. 184). Gypsy identity is invested with unconscious
desire, and as a fetish it helps Gadjos escape a certain deadlock of their desire. It is a
chimerical apparition, not a positive, clearly delimited entity. In Transylvania (2006),
Gypsy fetish signals and at the same time covers over a site of psychic pain. More
specifically, Gypsy fetish disavows and masks the lack that Zigarina identifies within the
symbolic order. Furthermore, the fascination it creates for the viewer stems from it
covering over and reminding of the lack created by the subject’s inevitable separation
from the Real. In Transylvania (2006) the idea of Gypsy is associated with colorful
clothing, music, dance, dirt, and exotic faces that seem to poses a sublime energy. The
fetishized Gypsy identity shares certain elements with the disavowed object, in this way
the fetish stays in touch with its original traumatic Real and retains a potential access to
its own historical story (Mulvey, 1996, p. 5). In Three Essays on the Theory of Sexuality,
Freud argues that that fur often becomes a fetish because it reminds of pubic hair and of
the moment when one’s mother’s lack of penis was noticed. Similarly Gypsy identity
reminds Zingarina of her lover Milan, who is a musician from an exotic part of Eastern
Europe, Transylvania. Furthermore, Gypsy identity’s music, magic, dirt, and freedom
retain a potential access to what, in the case of the spectator, was disavowed and
covered over – an initial lost enjoyment. The Gypsies present in Transylvania (2006) are
not rendered fully human with personal histories, emotions and desires, but as exotic
elements that are part of the background. They act according to the romanticized Gypsy
288 F.C. Andreescu and S.P. Quinn

identity: sensual dancing, passionately singing, wandering aimlessly but happily, and
telling fortunes. In order for the fetishized Gypsy identity to function, Roma people, the
whole of Romani history, characteristics as well as humanity, need to be made invisible.
Roma people need to become similar to a large white screen on which the colorful
Gypsy phantasy will be played out.

Acknowledgement
Florentina C. Andreescu would like to thank Todd McGowan, Michael J. Shapiro, and
Hasmet M. Uluorta for their comments and help in shaping this article.

Note
1. In Roma vocabulary Gadjo designates a person who is not Gypsy.

Notes on contributors
Florentina C. Andreescu teaches International Studies at the University of North Carolina,
Wilmington. Combining insights from the study of politics, global economy, and psychoanalysis,
her research investigates issues of legitimization and social authority, body, identity, trauma, aes-
thetics, and radical social change. She has written for journals such as: Nationalities Papers,
Space and Culture, Studia Politica: Romanian Political Science Review, Journal For Cultural
Research, Studies of Ethnicity and Nationalism, Fashion Theory, Psychotherapy and Politics
International, and Short Film Studies. She is the author of From Communism to Capitalism:
Nation and State in Romanian Cultural Production (Palgrave 2013).

Sean P. Quinn is a graduate student in Security Studies at East Carolina University. He has
written for the Tamkang Journal of International Affairs, and coauthored a chapter for Genre and
the (Post) Communist Woman: Analyzing Transformations of the Central and Eastern European
Female Ideal. His research focuses on amnesty, psychoanalysis, feminist theory, and
post-structuralism in the context of political economy, cinema, and radical social change.

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