Select THREE (3) of the following five (5) questions to answer. Save your answers in an MS Word document and submit the document to the correct folder in UM Learn / Assessment / Assignments BEFORE t

Key words:visceral, food politics, kangaroo, home, Australia. Introduction What I wouldn’t eat, for start, a bloody emu or kangaroo. No, I’d pretty well eat anything. You know, a lot of friends I’ve got just wouldn’t eat kangaroo or emu just on principle. The bloody national anthem, national icon...what’s her name, emblem. You know, disgusting [curling up nose].... Why would you eat them? I think it’s wrong. Americans wouldn’t saddle up to a bloody big golden eagle would they? No, I wouldn’t eat it if...I’d prefer not to eat kangaroo meat. Well yeah, wouldn’t eat that. I’m an Aussie and I don’t think...I wouldn’t eat my national emblem.

(Australian-born Pete is a home-owner, husband, grandparent, retired coal-miner, aged in his sixtiesand lives in an outer Wollongong suburb classi ed as socio-economically advantaged.) The deliberation of disgust is deeply embedded in food cultures (Darwin1998;Rozin, Jonathan, and McCauley2000). Sitting in the comfort of his lounge room, Pete contemplated disgust at the thought of eating kangaroo. This quotation is a vivid illustration of what I address in this paper: that is, the visceralities of difference. The disgust Pete showed when contemplating eating kangaroo I took as an inspiration to explore the visceral resistance put up by some bodies to eating kangaroo. Pete’s experiences thus speaks to the possibilities of what Probyn (2000) has called Social & Cultural Geography, 2014 Vol. 15, No. 4, 406–426,http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/14649365.2014.894113 q2014 Taylor & Francis ‘a gut ethics’. I take Probyn’s gut ethics to refer to the importance of an affective register that does not take its cue from conscious re ection, and is one which attends to the personal. That is to say, a visceral response like that of disgust gives clues to how a person inhabits the world.

With this comes the related insight that responses to eating manifests itself as a dynamic and differentiating force between bodies to provide insights to political sub- jectivities. Picking up and extending Probyn’s work, Hayes-Conroy and Hayes-Conroy (2008,2010), Hayes-Conroy and Martin (2010) and Longhurst, Johnston, and Ho (2009) address how the deeply visceral attributes of eating makes food a particularly compelling entry point for exploring the relationship between subjectivity and place in our accounts of the politics of eating.

Following Hayes-Conroy and Hayes-Conroy (2008: 462), I refer to the visceral as ‘the realm of internally-felt sensations, moods and states of being, which are born from the sensory engagement with the material world.’ What I am investigating is the embodied geographies of kangaroo meat, which tracks the ethical and political relations into the differentiating and dynamic forces of the sensuous body.

My entry point is how the kangaroo is served-up in climate change adaptation pol- icies as a ‘virtuous’ food. Environmental scientists (Morrison, McSweeney, and Wright 2007; Wilson and Edwards2008)and economist (Garnaut2008) disseminated images and other sources of affect and information that asserted the bene ts of regularly eating kangaroo—including redu- cing greenhouse gas emissions associated with what we eat—particularly from increased consumption of meat and dairy products in Western diets. Here, the logic is that kangar- oos produce less methane than cattle because of their digestive tract. Apparently, reducingbeef consumption by 20 per cent from 1990 levels would cut 15 megatonnes of greenhouse gases from the atmosphere by 2020 (Diesen- dorf2007). Yet, most Australian households seem disinterested in eating kangaroo regu- larly. Results from a national survey of 1,590 meat consumers in 2007 suggest only 4.7 per cent (75 households) eat kangaroo monthly or more frequently (Ampt and Owen2008). This is despite supplies of kangaroo meat being more plentiful through leading supermarket chains since 2000. In Australia, 66 per cent of kangaroo consumed as food is eaten in restaurants, with 50 per cent of consumers eating kangaroo only in restaurants (Purtell 1997). The question that propels this paper is this: How can paying attention to the visceral help better understand why we nd kangaroo meat absent from most Australian domestic geographies, yet garners broader participation in restaurants? Working with thirty house- holds in Wollongong, I acquired insights regarding how the visceral may help explain the absence of kangaroo from most domestic meal schedules and its presence on some restaurant menus.

The paper is structured in ve sections to explore the visceral responses to eating kangaroo. First, I discuss how kangaroos are a contested site through which a particular version of sustainability politics plays out in Australia. I then work through a number of geographical explanations of food politics.

The third section provides a justi cation of methods. These involved visiting thirty par- ticipants’ homes to plate-up and sometimes eat kangaroo, alongside asking them about their food likes and dislikes and concerns about climate change. I adopt a grounded analysis to explore the how visceral responses to kan- garoo, when served up for dinner, are under- stood within the context of uneven social, economic and cultural structures. Paying Embodied geographies of kangaroo meat407 attention to how the visceral registers through the sight, smell, touch and taste of kangaroo provided an opportunity to explore the embodied geographies of kangaroo that emerged when plating-up, eating and sharing food narratives with people who reside in the regional centre of Wollongong, Australia.

Sustainable food politics of kangaroo To the different foods of the dinner table, this paper adds a less-studied foodstuff: Red, Eastern Grey and Western Grey kangaroo meat. Kangaroos are not farmed like beef or sheep. Since the 1990s, prominent environ- mental scientists have advocated eating these kangaroo species to help prevent inland soil erosion (Archer and Beale2004; Flannery 2004). The conservation biologist Grigg (2002: 53) famously conceived of kangaroo farming as ‘sheep replacement therapy for rangelands’. The sustainable food politics of kangaroo is emotionally intense. Eating kan- garoos can be proactively juxtaposed to less favourable discourses. For example, some pastoralists worked to distance themselves from farming kangaroos as backwards— implicating kangaroo as a pest destined for the pet-food-bowl. The rhetoric often voiced by some environmental movements such as Greenpeace and Animal Liberation call upon notions of the colonial nation, commodi ca- tion, rates of species extinction since colonisa- tion, and the cruelty associated with a kangaroo diet. As encapsulated on the Aus- tralian coat-of-arms, kangaroo iconography has obtained a foundational symbolic appeal in forging the white colonial nation. The kangaroo is also a visually evocative, aesthetic and distinctive fragment of Australia that triggers the popular imagination. The kan- garoo was anthropomorphised as a childhoodfriend in the long-running Australian television program,Skippy the Bush Kangaroo. The kangaroos’ popularity as a ‘poster child of Australia’ relied upon the perceived likeness to humans: as animals that stand upright on two legs and with two arms. As noted by Craw (2008), the set of discourses that commonly circulate within these debates seem predicated on whitened cultural histories. Silenced by these discourses are Australian Indigenous subjects and the meanings of kangaroos in their lives (see Jackson and Vernes2010). At the very least, this suggests that kangaroos are ambiguously positioned at a crossroads of different discourses in Australian sustainability food politics.

Turning to the supply side, the sustainable food politics of kangaroo also occurred in the context of wide-ranging changes in commercial kangaroo provisioning and marketing. The Eastern Grey, Western Grey and Red kangaroos that are wrapped in plastic and found on supermarket shelves are part of a quota to cull kangaroo numbers organised by State-based kangaroo management plans since the 1980s, and informed by conservation biology.

Although kangaroos are protected under Com- monwealth law, the commercial supply of kangaroo relies upon environmental depart- ments within each Statecalculating annual cull quotas (Hercock2004). These plans are administered by State environmental depart- ments and overseen by the Commonwealth Department of the Environment, Water and Heritage. Since 2000, kangaroo sausages, burgers, steaks, kebabs, mince, llets, stir-fry and mini roasts are available widely—not only in butchers’ shops but also in conventional supermarkets. Kangaroo is usually priced at half the cost of beef, and three-quarters that of lamb.

This consumer access to kangaroo became possible because of the pivotal role played by the Kangaroo Industries Association of 408Gordon Waitt Australia (KIAA) facilitating the co-ordination of kangaroo-shooters, abattoirs and market- ing since 1964 (KIAA2008). The KIAA played a key role in the reclassi cation of kangaroo by the Australian National Food Authority as edible ‘game’. Until 1993, the State food standards prohibited the sale of kangaroo for human consumption in New South Wales, Queensland and Victoria, but not in South Australia. Over the past decade, kangaroo supply always outstripped demand. For example, in 2011 the commercial kangaroo ‘harvest’ in New South Wales was only 32 per cent of that designated by quota management plans (Of ce of Environment and Heritage 2012). While legislative reform and kangaroo management plans enabled changes to encou- rage improved kangaroo meat access and sustainability, the plans are embedded in colonial relations that render invisible Indi- genous Australians’ connections to the kan- garoo (Bannerman2006; Thomsen, Muir, and Davies2006). Both the discursive spaces and practices of kangaroo management are sys- temically linked to whitened cultural histories.

Turning to KIAA’s kangaroo marketing, the pleasures of eating are pinned to rich white bodies being sensitive to cholesterol, soil degradation and climate change science. For example, to try and sell kangaroo as a distinctively Australian gourmet food, the KIAA organised a competition in 2005 with Food Companion Internationalto (re)name kangaroo meat (Craw2008). The winning entry was ‘Australis’—drawing on inspiration from the imagined land massTerra Australis Incognita(unknown continent of the South).

For readers ofFood Companion International, kangaroo was an integral ingredient for preparing ‘gourmet’ food for ‘food lovers’. In 2008, the KIAA adopted the marketing slogan (kangaroo meat is) ‘Good For You, Good For The Environment.’ Implicit here is whatconstitutes kangaroo consumption as ‘good’ are environmental scientists’ emphasis on low-methane food production, along with nutritionists’ focus on kangaroo as both a low- cholesterol and high-protein food.

Eating kangaroo is promoted as a rational choice. The pleasures of eating are aligned with being sensitive to the planet while lowering cholesterol levels. Hence, the mar- keting of the KIAA exempli es one articula- tion of what Probyn (2012) calls ‘feel-good’ food politics, in which ideals of healthy bodies and sustainability plays out as a badge of social distinction for ‘good’ consumer citizens to seek out what to eat in supermarkets, while shoring up inequalities with Indigenous Aus- tralians [see Slocum (2008) for a discussion of farmers’ markets and Hayes-Conroy and Hayes-Conroy (2013) and Guthman (2003) for a discussion of ‘alternative foods’].

At the outset then, kangaroo meat occupies a paradoxical positioning crossing between discursive constructions of mainstream and gourmet, protected and hunted, friend and pest, farmed and wild, non-Indigenous and Indigenous, foodstuff and non-foodstuff, white and black, self and Other. My focus is on the subjects of these marketing campaigns.

My aim is to understand how various power relationships, including the affective and emotional, are negotiated and mobilised through the paradoxical positioning of kan- garoo between these discursive constructions in the political practice of choosing to eat kangaroo (or not). This paper is concerned with the material production of affective and emotional connections among, between and across bodies in relation to eating kangaroo that are integral to meaning, subjectivity and place. The following section discusses how this concern is part of a broader shift in the discipline to centre material forces more fully in accounts of food politics. Embodied geographies of kangaroo meat409 Progress on geographies of food politics Social and cultural geographies have paid considerable attention to food politics (Cook et al.2008; Freidberg2003). One important strand of literature considers the racialised, aged, sexed, gendered and classed meaning attached to particular spaces of food con- sumption—such as homes and restaurants.

This strand often draws on, and critiques, Hooks’ (1992) Other-eating arguments which deconstructs race as a naturalised hierarchy of biologically distinct human groups (including Bell and Valentine1997; Cook, Crang, and Thorpe1999; Jackson1999; May1996).

Understood within racialised discursive con- structions of food and eating, the commodi- cation and consumption of cultural difference—‘Otherness’—is argued to be sus- tained by a white capitalist patriarchal ‘main- stream’ society to fashion itself as more cosmopolitan and appealing because the encounter is unusual. However, as Heldke (2003) notes, this interpretation on the commodi ed components of food limits our understanding by overlooking the lived experiences of eating that may challenge rather than sustain racialised myths.

Another critical response to food politics draws attention to the limits of politicised categories, or regimes of knowledge about food, disseminated through texts. Like so much of the current critical framing of geopolitical issues, in grappling with what foods become accepted and or rejected from our diets, many geographers have chosen to emphasise materiality in their thinking as part of circumventing subject-centred epistem- ologies (Anderson and Wylie2009). Some strands stand out in a eld comprised of multiple and often discordant conceptual positions. One vibrant strand of material food-cultures literature draws on Law andHassard’s (1999) actor network theory to focus on how everyday practices of use intersect with commodity supply chains and agribusinesses. This approach directs atten- tion to how things become food through tracing non-human actants through multiple networks and pathways of a globalised food system (Cook and Harrison2003; Goodman 2004; Roe2006; Whatmore2002). Cook et al.

(2006: 659) couched the term ‘food-following’ for this literature that explores how our lives are connected intimately through food to others near and far. One side of this work points to how individual eating practices are shaped not only by sets of ideas, but also through multi-sensory engagement on an everyday basis with the materiality of things that become food (Roe2006). Another side of this work focuses on ethical eating as a biophysical and social process. In particular, foregrounding the interrelationships between living things opens the way to question the ‘organic’ and ‘fair trade’ products as ‘sol- utions’ to uneven post-colonial relationships of production, exchange, contract and invest- ment (Barnett, Cloke, Clarke, and Malpass 2005; Goodman2004; Guthman2008).

Guthman (2002) makes the point that net- work approaches to framing food politics by focussing on uidity and change attens out power relations and might foreclose on important aspects in political terms of social formations that pull towards ‘settledness’ and xity.

A second strand broadly explores embodied food politics that draws upon ideas of materiality around the spatialities of the lived body, practice, viscerality, ‘gut’ reactions, emotion and affect. Scholars contributing to this broader literature rethinking the materi- ality of bodies include affect scholars (see Anderson2012; Thrift2008) and feminist scholars (see Bondi2005; Thien2005). Some 410Gordon Waitt scholars of embodied food politics have to chosen to work across these conceptual positions (Carolan2011). Feminist geogra- phers such as Hayes-Conroy and Hayes- Conroy (2008) and Longhurst, Johnston, and Ho (2009: 335) advocate for a ‘visceral approach’ as a framework for analysis in order to better understand the reciprocal relationships between bodies and food. Fol- lowing a visceral approach, there is no universal body. Instead, our bodies are connected up to other bodies ‘rhizomatically, with the material (molecular/chemical) con- tent of ideas, beliefs, and social labels’ (Hayes- Conroy and Hayes-Conroy2008: 467). Senses are not solely located in the biological body, but shaped by things and styles from near and far away. For example, Hayes-Conroy and Hayes-Conroy (2008) deployed a visceral approach to critique the politics of the ‘Slow Food’ movement based on biological taste and knowing where and how food was produced.

They reconceptualised taste within the visceral realm, recognising that a taste for something cannot be view apart from the political locations we inhabit. Longhurst, Johnston, and Ho (2009) draw on a visceral approach to explore the embodied geographies of food, belonging and home for a group of migrant women in the small city of Hamilton, Aotearoa New Zealand. They explore how home and the diasporic subject are made, remade and unmade through the affective and emotional relationships of food preparation and eating.

Like Hayes-Conroy and Hayes-Conroy (2008) and Longhurst, Johnston, and Ho (2009), to explore why preparing and eating kangaroo is not what most Australian house- holds regularly do, I also draw and extend Probyn’s (2000) ideas. Probyn draws on Foucault’s (1994) ethics of the ‘care of the self’, Deleuze and Guattari’s (1987) notion ofthe rhizome, and Mauss’s concept of bodies as psycho-sociological assemblages(1934/1973) in developing her ‘gut ethics’. Following in the footsteps of Mauss’ discussion of the ‘tech- niques of the body’, Probyn (2000: 31 and 32) argued that The connections and interconnections of learned techniques, of imitation, and of the interplay of biological, psychological and social...allows for the past to re-enter the present, but without unilaterally determining us. The biological, psychological and the social are constantly reworked in terms of how at any moment we live our bodies. These modes of living are temporal and spatial, highlight the adaption of learned behaviour and context.... There is then an order to the assemblage, but one that, instead of predicating a ground, questions it.

Probyn puts forward a feminist assemblage thinking as a directive to help scholars think anew the materiality of bodies and to appreciate ambiguity. She highlights the visceral to trouble what is knowable. Probyn (2000: 133) provides a twist to Deleuze’s (1997) claim that ‘we do not know what a shameful, shamed, disgusted or disgusting body can do.’ While remaining cognisant of the power/knowledge embedded in discourse, which sustains uneven social relationships, ‘truths’, social norms and the co-training of senses (colours, smells, textures and tastes), these need not be xed. As Probyn (2000) asserts, there are always possibilities of unpredictable shifts in socio-spatial for- mations, despite the weight of power-laden historical trajectories of everyday life prac- tices, as acknowledged by Bourdieu (1984).

Probyn suggests that the forces, intensities and trajectories of eating can be constitutive of the spatio-temporal rifting that is alterity, eating is one of the ways that the multiplicity with each Embodied geographies of kangaroo meat411 self is created and one of the ways through which the proximate distance between self and others opens up. The point Probyn makes is that our carnal exchanges that implicate bodies one with another have the potential to contribute to the ongoing process of subjectivity formation. This is an understand- ing of individual food politics not as a substrate of social distinction, but one that implicates the intensity of affect between, across and within bodies as a force of differentiation. Affective intensities that are embodied as emotional registers frame narra- tives and mobilise food choices.

The question of how through the sight, smell, texture and taste of food that bodies come to ‘belong’ or be ‘estranged’ in place is vital to my aim. Probyn’s scholarship is helpful in a number of ways. First, the importance of place—shaped by physiology, psychology, and uneven econ- omic, social and cultural power geometries, bodily judgements of aromas, sights, tastes and textures which are always situated, co-consti- tuted and ow over each other. Second, the importance of relationality—the visceral requires remaining alive to the co-training of the brain, nose, ear, eye, ngers and tongue through the social norms of everyday life practices, within assemblages that include things, styles, embodied histories, memories and random events. Third, the importance of visceralities of difference—the visceral requires remaining alert to how different bodies have distinct affective capacities. The intensities of such forces can vary as they pass between, or through, and come to inhabit different bodies, and may be narrated in various ways as they are understood within particular contexts—such as care, shame, disgust, pride and love. The visceral realm is therefore about being able to position oneself in relation to others, and things that shape and reshape understandings of food, subjectivities and spaces. Finally, the visceralpolitics of food is about the intensities of emotional ties and affective forces that spring from the embodied knowledges of shopping, cooking or eating as understood within the context of power geometries that shape our social worlds. The intensi cation of these unconscious and conscious relations may become a mechanism for stability or change.

The next section outlines how the project was designed to access the visceral. ‘Bringing-a-plate’, talking, and eating, as method This project involved visiting thirty households during November 2009 through to January 2010 in the regional city of Wollongong, Australia (the third largest city in New South Wales with approximately 202,000 residents, some 80 km south of Sydney, known as the Illawarra region).

Wollongong is a provoking site for thinking about changing diets for a changing climate. The white history of Wollongong was built on coal, steel manufacturing and shipping port access.

The steel industry continues to wield enormous material and symbolic power in Australia’s carbon economy, despite a larger number of Wollongong residents now employed in either the tertiary or health sectors (Waitt, Forbotko, et al.2012). The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (2007) classi ed Wollongong as a climate change adaptation ‘hotspot’, where projected environmental changes on the south- east coast of Australia will interact with population change to exacerbate vulnerability.

Perhaps for these reasons, in comparison to Australian residents living elsewhere, people living in Wollongong are statistically more likely to have a higher level of climate change awareness, concern and knowledge (ACF2010).

Participants were recruited through a survey entitled: ‘Tough Times? Green Times? A 412Gordon Waitt survey of the issues important to households in the Illawarra.’ This survey provided a snap- shot of household sustainability practices (Waitt, Caputi, et al.2012). Consistent with government statistics on average weekly meat consumption (Ampt and Owen2008), house- holds ate predominantly chicken (90 per cent), beef (85 per cent) and lamb (52 per cent). Only 8 per cent reported regularly eating kangaroo in an average week. Participants were selected purposefully from different household con- gurations, age groups and socio-economic backgrounds. Five lived alone, three were single-parent families, eleven lived only with their husbands, wives or partners, eleven lived in nuclear families (two parents and at least one child). The participants ranged in age from mid-20s to mid-60s. Participants varied in migration histories, occupation, socio- economic status and education. None claimed an Indigenous Australian identity. None were climate change sceptics. All ate red meat, but none ate rabbit or deer. In regards to existing relationships households had with kangaroo, two households regularly ate kangaroo at home, twelve households ate kangaroo but never at home and sixteen households never ate kangaroo.

Titled ‘Food Cultures’, this project invited participants to talk about food likes and dislikes around their dining tables, while sharing a jointly prepared meal that included roasted kangaroo prepared by the researcher.

Participants were receptive to the idea of the researcher bringing a meat plate to share, as an opportunity to talk about food. During an Australian summer, bringing a plate and eating cold, sliced roast meat is a familiar practice as part of the casual ‘get-together’. Plating-up the meal in participant’s kitchens at dinner/lunch time was an opportunity to talk about food likes and dislikes. The project was pre-planned to coincide with when participants would behungry. Participants were told the roasted cold meat was kangaroo when preparations began for dinner or lunch. The project design remained alive to Law’s comment that ‘food acquires its meanings through the place it is assembled and eaten’ (2001: 275). Verbal and non-verbal visceral responses occurred while plating-up, smelling, looking at, touching and sometimes eating slices of cold roast kangaroo meat within participant’s kitchens.

A week before the scheduled conversation, each participant was sent a Participant Information Sheet and asked to complete a chart that outlined their typical weekly main meal pattern. The Participant Information Sheet reminded participants that foods often evoke strong visceral responses. Eating food from the meat plate brought by the researcher wasemphasisedasalwaysoptional.In addition, participants were reminded the semi-structured interview would follow four general themes: (1) normal grocery shopping routines and responsibilities; (2) food likes and dislikes; (3) willingness to taste ‘new’ foods and (4) views on sustainability. While this list is indicative of the project themes, semi- structured interviews became conversational, particularly when plating-up lunch or dinner.

Critically re ecting on the researcher’s embodied response is crucial to taste-driven research (Longhurst, Johnston, and Ho2008).

Before commencing the project, cooking kangaroo cuts was not part of my usual dietary regime. At the outset then, I learnt how to cook a kangaroo mini-roast, pre-seasoned with herbs and garlic. Alert to the cooking tip not to overcook kangaroo meat to retain moisture and avour, and following the advice of the leading producer of kangaroo meat, I cooked each mini-roast for around 40 minutes, in a 2008C oven. As a white migrant from Scotland who has lived in Australia for more than two decades, and who rarely eats red Embodied geographies of kangaroo meat413 meat, there was nothing initially familiar or pleasurable about the sight, smell, taste or texture of roasting kangaroo meat in my oven.

The smell and taste of roast kangaroo did not evoke embodied memories of prior homes or roasts. Over the course of the project, I became aware of how my own culinary practices at home maintained particular embodied ways of belonging in Wollongong—modelled on a blended array of interactions with Australians and other migrants. The anxiety expressed by some participants provided occasions to articulate my own bodily sensations of what it meant to cook, smell, see, touch and taste kangaroo. Regularly cooking, eating and discussing kangaroo with participants allowed for re ection of my own hierarchy of foods, and the role of different foods in my own sensuous and embodied ways of recon guring Wollongong as home.

The participants’ home visits were recorded and transcribed verbatim, usually lasting usually about 1.5 to 2 hours. After each home visit, detailed eld-notes recorded how the intensity of bodily felt sensations was communicated by faces, eyes, postures and gestures. Following the lead of Jayne, Valen- tine, and Holloway (2010), I consider through a grounded analysis the ways in which the narratives give clues—not only to what participants think of kangaroo, but through textual imagery, tone and rhythm of speech— to how bodily sensations of kangaroo materi- alities appeal to or repel participants within a particular psychological, physiological and social assemblage. To ensure con dentiality, interviewees were allocated pseudonyms. I begin by exploring why and when kangaroo becomes edible for some bodies familiar with the sensual experiences of eating chicken, beef, pork or lamb. I then turn to investigate why for some participants, kangaroo is always inedible. Appetites for kangaroo In this section, I investigate how kangaroo becomes edible for some participants in spaces beyond the domestic realm. What knowledge/s con gure kangaroo as food, but edible only outside the weekly household practices of dining? Two themes emerged in conducting the eldwork that answers this question by illustrat- ing how class and ethnicity are felt as intensities that have an impact on eating kangaroo: rst, how the pleasures of eating kangaroo are bound up with how white bodies are included in the hegemonies of restaurant food and, second, how kangaroos help posit northern and inland Australia as the ‘outback’ or ‘real’ Australia.

Appetites for kangaroo as restaurant food One of the most frequent complaints was that cooking kangaroo did not t into ‘normal’ preparation and dining habits, but that of a ‘gourmet restaurant’ food. Amongst partici- pants there was a general lack of practical and tacit knowledge born of an ignorance of intimacy and familiarity with the materiality of cooking kangaroo as an everyday practice. The material integrity of kangaroo imposed learning demands of its own. Several participants pointed to ‘specialist’ culinary skills and recipes in describing what prevented them cooking kan- garoo at home. Eating kangaroo therefore was often constituted as a restaurant food—cooked by a chef. For example, James, 36 years of age, a professional, divorced, single father, who grew up in Wollongong and enjoys cooking, posi- tioned kangaroo in just such terms:

Interviewer: So under what kind of circumstances could you imagine yourself eating kangaroo?

James: Well the times that I have eaten it [kangaroo] have been at restaurants....um, it wouldn’t be 414Gordon Waitt something that I would just cook for myself...so in that sense, it would be something specialist I guess....

Jamesreservedeatingkangarootorestau- rants. For James, it was not simply the engagement with the sensual experiences of the unfamiliar practice of eating kangaroo but also the type of care exerted in the preparation of kangaroo meant that James made dining-out on kangaroo special. The pleasure of eating kangaroo served up in restaurants is one of the embodied ways that James designates ‘special’ occasions.

Similarly, cooking practice was central to France’s experience of kangaroo meat. Frances, a 55-year-old retired domestic science teacher who moved from Sydney to Wollongong, never considered cooking kangaroo at home:

Interviewer: So if you were to eat it [kangaroo], would you envisage yourself eating it with friends or family or would it be by yourself?

Frances: More so probably at a restaurant, not cooking it at home, no.

Frances reserved eating kangaroo cooked by a chef as part of the shared experience of coming together with friends at a restaurant. Frances, like many people with whom I spoke and ate with, explained the absence of pleasure from eating kangaroo meat was due to her inexperience of cooking kangaroo. Frances also voiced concern that if she cooked kangaroo, the texture may become ‘very tough’. Likewise, as Elsie, a 47-year-old self- employed mother explained, kangaroo requires cooking by a chef:

You’ve gotta be so perfect with kangaroo because if you overcook it you might as well just throw it out and if you undercook it, it’s [the outcome is] thesame. And it’s that...just that ne line of cooking kangaroo. Rather than eating kangaroo at home being tied to price or market availability, if Frances or Elsie were doing the cooking, their lack of tacit knowledge derived from kangaroo- related cooking skills would render the texture as ‘tough’ (de Certeau, Giard, and Mayol 1998). James, Frances and Elsie, like many of the participants, underscored that serving- up ‘tough’ food to friends and family would reduce their capacity to connect with their home by how others might make negative judgements about their culinary skills.

Appetites for kangaroo as tasting the ‘real’ Australia For many participants, the smell of kangaroo evoked memories of their vacations to inland and northern Australia. The tourism industry of northern and inland Australia has capitalised on the idea of gastro-tourism, pitching kangaroo alongside emu and crocodile as a distinctive Australian ‘bush tucker’ (for other examples of gastro-tourism see Caldwell2006; Costa and Besio2011). Eating kangaroo becomes one way through which to know the ‘real’ Australia, governed by the outback mythology that is steeped in ‘whiteness’ (Waitt1997). However, kangaroo served in most tourist restaurants is not from colonial recipe books, or reliant upon knowledge of Indigenous Australians, but is modelled largely on European Continental cuisine. The outback mythology renders eating kangaroo possible in restaurants, where white bodies tend to stick together.

For instance, Alison and Richard illustrate the importance of a set of discourses that are derived from whitened cultural histories of northern Australia, circulated and animated Embodied geographies of kangaroo meat415 by the tourism industry that excites an appetite for kangaroo in restaurants. For Alison and Richard, a retired, married couple aged in their seventies, who for over 40 years had lived in a lower-socio economic suburb of Wollongong, kangaroo had never been part of the everyday tastes and aromas of their kitchen. Instead, Alison cooked primarily beef, pork and chicken roasts and stews.

However, for Alison and Richard, kangaroo, crocodile and emu tastes are an essential part of travelling to the Northern Territory to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary.

Interviewer: About trying new foods, have you ever tried kangaroo?

Alison: Yes. We went to Central Australia, and we thought we would try everything that was going.

Crocodile was the other one....it [kangaroo] was on the menu at Alice Springs, and at Uluru we were at the sort of hotels that would put those things on for the tourists’ interests. Like we were tourists too, and we wanted to experience the taste. We didn’t order it the second night did we? [chuckles] Anyway ....

Richard:.... No, we had something different the second night.

Alison: I wasn’t fussed, kangaroo had more of a gamey avour, would you say gamey?

Richard: Hmm.

Alison and Richard illustrate the uncon- scious ways in which whitened cultural histories work to shape the social relations and space of the tourism industry. As Alison suggests, openness to eating kangaroo seems especially important for those who take pride in being a good white tourist. The shared experience of the non-familiar practice and taste made the event important to Alison andRichardinrelationtodifferentiatinginland and northern Australia from their home.

Similarly, Lesley’s choice to eat kangaroo was only possible on a holiday to Uluru, Northern Territory. Lesley moved to the northern suburbs of Wollongong from Sydney when she married. She is 36 years of age, has a professional occupation, and takes pleasure in preparing nutritional family meals. Lesley discussed the importance of the shared family experience eating kangaroo in relation to differentiating Uluru from her home. Interviewer: So, have you ever tried kangaroo?

Lesley: Yes.

Interviewer: What did you think of kangaroo?

Lesley: We quite liked it [kangaroo], we all had a try of it. We had a holiday to Ayres Rock [Uluru] and we went out to a function, called The Sounds of Silence, which was like a dinner party out in the outback, it was open air. And they put kangaroo on the menu, and we all tried it, even the children.

Yeah, it [kangaroo] tasted just like chicken.

[Kangaroo] Was really nice.... But it’s not actually something that I’ve tried to cook myself.

It’s just an experience that we had out there, and it reminds me of the holiday out there.

Interviewer: Would there be circumstances in which you’d try it [kangaroo] again?

Lesley: Probably if I went on holiday to the Northern Territory again because for me it was just a part of a Northern Territory experience.

Lesley’s comments point to the ways that food prompts affective ties and emotional bonds between her family and holiday places. The experience of tasting kangaroo at the Sounds of Silence Dinner in the desert con rmed her privileged white status within geographical 416Gordon Waitt imaginaries of the Northern Territory as ‘out- back’. Lesley’s experiences surrounding eating kangaroo point to how white middle-class aesthetics, values and cultural practices come to shape the interaction of bodies in dining spaces designed for tourists. My point is that these are exclusionary dining spaces con gured by the reciprocal relationship between bodies and space—that are predicated on white cultural practices. It was not solely the visceral response of eating kangaroo—that is pleasurable to some people and perhaps disgust evoked in others— but rather the shared experience between diners that are evocative of how interacting bodies help sustain class and ethnic differences and so make, remake and unmake the tourist dining places of the Northern Territory. These partici- pants’ narratives tell us a lot as to how the visceral response of eating kangaroo sustains a sense of individual and collective belonging as a visitor to far-away places likes the Northern Territory, which are underpinned by whiteness, In turn, this visceral response helps make and remake a spatial border between ‘exotic far- away’ places and ‘home’.

Like Lesley, Adam illustrates how a spatial border between ‘exotic far-away’ and ‘home’ places is viscerally created and experienced.

Adam is a mature-aged student who grew up in Wollongong and lives alone in the house he inherited from his mother. Adam spoke about kangaroo in the context of eating foods he understood as ‘unusual’ when travelling, as a form of encounter that is remarkable, worth- while and memorable. Adam expressed these ideas when plating-up kangaroo for lunch:

Adam: It’s a great looking piece [of meat] isn’t it?

Interviewer: Yes.

Adam: I’ve eaten it [kangaroo] a couple of times and it tastes like a cross between lamb and beef.I was in South Australia travelling around, I’d been up in the Flinders Ranges and I came down Brachina Gorge in the old Subaru, the old 44, came out in the western sides and there’s a little place called Parachilna, great little old country pub there and some cockie’s wife was running it and her kitchen was just brilliant and I looked at the menu and thought: “Oh that’s just mad” [great]. And, I ordered the kangaroo salad.... And, it was just like this is perfect and so exotic. I had it [kangaroo] once or twice back in Sydney when I was up there...I couldn’t imagine not having an adventurous palate, like it would be just so boring...I am not really a ‘real meat and three veg’ kind of guy. They [men he meets at the pub] are just really conservative in their taste.... A lot of people are just meat and three veg.

I was talking to this guy yesterday at the pub and he was really conservative and he was just meat and three veg and I go: “Have you ever tried Lebanese food?” “Nah”, Thai? “Nah”. Adam illustrates how food choices are integral to notions of the self. For Adam, seeking out foods constituted as ‘exotic’ was an integral ingredient to forge a subject of gender and class difference, distinction and ‘Other- ness’. As argued by Heldke (2003) there is both pleasure and prestige to be gained from eating items categorised as ‘exotic’. Adam’s ‘bodily ways-of-judging’ (Hayes-Conroy and Hayes- Conroy2008: 489) perhaps help explain why he does not value the idea of cooking and eating kangaroo at home.

As I have said I’ve not cooked it [kangaroo] myself, I have only ever eaten it out, but I certainly have no qualms with the avour of it. I mean it really is a cross between lamb and beef isn’t it?...and, I must admit I pass by it at Woolies [Woolworths supermarket] all the time, because they sell it now.

His pleasure was intensi ed by the material ‘adventure’ of kangaroo tasting as Embodied geographies of kangaroo meat417 a cross between lamb and beef. Viscerally trained for identi cation with kangaroo tastes as exotic helps Adam to establish and maintain class and gendered differences while touring or dining out. Adam regularly sights kangaroo meat products in the super- market. Found wrapped in plastic in the supermarket-fridge perhaps renders kan- garoo too domesticated, too tame and too familiar an ingredient to incorporate into Adam’s home cooking.

No appetite for kangaroo In this section, I draw on my empirical material to explore those participants with no appetite for kangaroo, regardless of place. I highlight the bodily judging arising from the sight, touch, taste and smell from plating-up kangaroo. The rst theme that facilitated kangaroo becoming inedible related to how shopping and cooking involve a thoroughly embodied set of practices to help differentiate between meats. The second theme was visceral disgust. Bodily and verbal expressions of visceral disgust suggested that kangaroo smells contravened the affective forces and emotional bonds that comprise home and self. Participants illustrate the importance of appreciating the affective inter- actions between different bodies in maintaining bodily and spatial boundaries.

Bodily judging of kangaroo meat Coming to terms with why participants choose not to eat kangaroo involved paying attention to the bodily ways of judging kangaroo meat in different contexts. Visual engagement with the materialities of kangaroo in butchers and supermarkets emerged as a key component of visceral responses. The following quotation is illustrative of the affective forces and emotionsinvolved in witnessing displays of kangaroo in supermarkets. Gwen responded to the ques- tion: Have you seen kangaroo for purchase? Gwen: Yes, in Woolies [Woolworths supermarket].

It was a maroon red.

Gwen is 60 years of age, a grandmother, and moved from a country town to Wollon- gong when she married. Gwen was not alone in her evaluation. Those participants who witnessed kangaroo in the supermarket frequently used the terms ‘maroon’, ‘blood red’, ‘really dark’ or ‘too dark’. The difference I sensed from these participants’ visceral response to sighting kangaroo is predicated by a thoroughly embodied set of practices. To gain proximity to chicken, beef, lamb or pork, participants had learned to be affected by the supermarket displays.

Through extended periods of shopping, participants were nowunable to take cues from the colour of meat to evaluate freshness and quality. Participants had not cultivated an embodied ‘feel’ for kangaroo meat.

Following Deleuze and Guattari (1987:

272), we can think of food shopping as a process of becoming molecular or becoming imperceptible. We do not want to be chicken, beef, lamb or pork. But through repeated acts of shopping and cooking, we achieve a ‘molecular proximity’ with chosen foods through the responses of the forces our bodies ‘perceive’ (Deleuze and Guattari1987: 272).

From a Deleuzian perspective, participants’ bodies lacked ‘molecular proximity’ to kan- garoo meat and responded to felt differences.

Several participants also spoke of strong visceral reactions around the materialities of kangaroo tastes and textures. Importantly for this project, these bodily judgements worked against the incorporation of kangaroo tastes into those of everyday home life. For example, 418Gordon Waitt Angela is aged 40, an administrative assistant who grew up in Wollongong, and lives in an af uent northern suburb with her husband and 7-year-old son. Finding cooking a burden, Angela cooks quick and convenient meals at home including spaghetti bolognaise, pizza, stir-fry beef or buys barbequed chicken.

Although Angela enjoys trying new foods, she was not excited about kangaroo taste.

Angela: I’m not fussed. It’s [kangaroo] a very strong, gamey avour to it. I know it’s low in fat, no cholesterol, is really good for you, high in iron, all that jazz, it’s farmed quite humanely, blah, blah, blah, but that’s just me, I don’t like the taste of it [kangaroo].

Emphasising the body, affect and ideas, Angela illustrates how food provisioning is not inevi- tably tied to public health logics of nutrition or even animal activists’ ethics. Food preferences cannot be explained solely as a discursive project following Foucault’s (1995) ideas of disciplinary institutional procedures and self-regulating subjects. As Probyn (2000) makes clear, it is imperative to open a theoretical space to consider the affective energies and emotional ties that underpin the practices, ethics and politics of eating. Within the domestic geogra- phy of food provisioning, the ‘strong’ and ‘gamey avours’ do not help Angela sustain affective ties or emotional bonds to the place that she calls home, or different conceptions of who she is when at home.

Several other participants also reported that while having no ideological objection to eating kangaroo, the gamey avour did not connect with tastes that help sustain their emotional bonds and affective ties with home. Like Angela, Pauline describes how she did not viscerally connect with kangaroo as the texture or taste was ‘tough’ and ‘strong’.

Pauline was born in Wollongong. She isdivorced, a grandmother, aged in her fties and lives alone in the southern outskirts of Wollongong. Pauline’s experiences cooking as somewhat loathsome. She normally prepared stir-fry sauces for chicken or beef because they are ‘soft’, ‘not stringy’, ‘easy to digest’, ‘quick’ and ‘simple’. Declining to eat kangaroo, Pauline re ected: When I tried it [kangaroo] I just thought it was...tough. Yes, a sort of strong meat....

Eating kangaroo was deeply affective. Like Angela, Pauline explains she has no appetite for kangaroo as it is ‘strong’ and ‘tough’ meat.

With their reticence, Angela and Pauline illustrate how kangaroo tastes and textures may not connect viscerally with a thoroughly embodied set of culinary practices, labour, skills and social relations that comprise everyday home life and the subjectivities of a ‘good’ grandparent or parent. For these women, serving up kangaroo at the family dinner table runs the risk of meal times becomingamomentofcriticismand displacement.

The strongest visceral responses, however, were associated with kangaroo smells. Such ndings align with Pink’s (2004) argument that olfactory conventions are deeply embedded in home life. For some, smell evoked memories of being brought into close contact with ‘harvesting’ practices and the horror of what it means about the person eating kangaroo. For example, Rebecca is a 52-year-old real estate agent who was born in Broken Hill (far western New South Wales), but now lives with her partner in an af uent northern suburb of Wollongong. She thinks of herself as ‘really Aussie’. Rebecca never cooks pasta or rice dishes at home. Informed by British culinary traditions, she only cooks ‘meat and veggies’. The intensity of visceral Embodied geographies of kangaroo meat419 disgust registered by Rebecca while serving up kangaroo prompted connections to her youth in Broken Hill. She recalled memories of her uncle’s work as a professional kangaroo shooter and kangaroo butcher.

Interviewer: Would you be interested in tasting kangaroo?

Rebecca: No. I just can’t. I just think I couldn’t eat it [kangaroo]. But, my background is, coming from Broken Hill, my uncle, up to the age of 45, he was a professional ‘roo [kangaroo] shooter...and so he’d kill them, bring them in off the land. And there’s only so many licences they give out and now his son does it, and that’s what he does he makes a lot of money out of it. And so, they do it for pet meat only. And to cull them, because they’re a menace to farmers.... No, never tried it...I don’t like the smell actually. I can remember walking in when we were little to where they [roo shooters] brought them [kangaroo carcasses] all back, and they obviously butcher them then, and the smell of it [look of disgust]. I’m sure it’s not like that everywhere, but that’s just what I remember.

Smelling kangaroo was also deeply affective.

The kangaroo smell evokes hurting memories of the abattoir where kangaroos were butch- ered for pet food. Kangaroo smells act to bring Rebecca into an intimate and uncomfortable relation of proximity with butchering prac- tices. Rebecca is aware of pastoral discourses to frame kangaroos as a pest within the agrarian economy and pet food. Rebecca is revolted by ingesting some essence of brutality imparted to the kangaroo. Paying attention to the intensity of smells tell us how foods’ sensual qualities fold embodied pasts into the present.

Other participants spoke about the discon- nection between the aromas of home and cooking kangaroo meat. How the taste andsmell of cooking helps to create a domestic space where the body feels ‘at home’ cannot be ignored in explaining why kangaroo is not regularly found in most Australian household weekly meal plans. The aroma of cooked kangaroo often promoted visceral disgust. For instance, Donna, a 33-year-old mother of two, and Bridget, a 50-year-old grandmother, like many of participants, illustrate how serving up kangaroo at home felt revolting: Interviewer: It’s kangaroo meat.

Donna: Oh you’re kidding. Yuck, kangaroo.

Aarrrghhh! I’d rather eat no meat. I don’t like the smell of it [kangaroo]. I don’t like the look. I love lamb. I don’t like the thought of eating Skippy [the bush kangaroo]. They sell it in the supermarket. But a lot of ‘em [kangaroos]...they are getting rid of ‘em like that [being shot], they are a pest.

Bridget: Yes because they are a pest...Ithought with the meat, with the meat like that, with the worms and that, that’s why you’ve gotta cook it slow.

Donna: It’s [kangaroo] yuck [spitting kangaroo meat from her mouth].

First, like Rebecca, Donna and Bridget make sense of killing kangaroos not as food but as a form of pest eradication to retain a commercial agricultural economy. When cate- gorised as a pest, kangaroo is relegated to the pet-food bowl, not the family dinner table.

Second, working against eating kangaroo are those like Donna who label kangaroos as ‘Skippy’—implying a desire to designate kangaroos as an anthropomorphised child- hood friend from a popular 1960s Australian television series. Donna illustrates what the kangaroo industry dubs ‘Skippy syndrome—a reluctance to eat what was for many, the lead character in a favourite childhood television series’ (Porter2006: 34). 420Gordon Waitt Pushing into the body, at a gut register, Donna’s body evoked visceral disgust. As Probyn’s (2000) assemblage thinking cogently points out, explanations for disgust cannot be reduced to biology, physiology, psychology or power geometries that shape and reshape social worlds. Taking Probyn’s (2000)con- ceptualisation of disgust as a starting point of analysis, visceral disgust reveals itself through proximity, sight and closeness of smell and touch. Donna’s disgust at eating kangaroo provides a visceral reminder of how bodies, through eating, embody social contexts and cultural expectations. The disgust with which Donna responds speaks to how the kangaroo as a ‘wormed pest destined for the pet-bowl’ is dangerous as a family dinner. Donna’s immediate and apparently unambivalent phys- iological reaction illustrates Tomkins’ (1991:

14) point that disgust has ‘evolved to protect the human being from coming too close’. Or as Sarah Ahmed put it: ‘to be disgusted is after all to be affected by what one had rejected’ (Ahmed2004:86emphasisinoriginal).

Following Tomkins (1991), Donna’s disgust should be considered a re exive, affective response through the recognition of a bound- ary between the edible and inedible. Keeping Probyn’s framework in mind suggests that visceral disgust may alert Donna to the ambiguous relationship she has with kangaroo that has come ‘too close’ in plating-up dinner.

As Probyn (2000: 142) argues ‘disgust forces upon us a tangible sense of the closeness of others: we feel the proximities of objects and people that we fear will invade our bodies through our mouths.’ Having acknowledged the taste and smell of kangaroo as disgusting in the social cultural frameworks of domestic life, Donna must confront the disgust lodged against her body in the everyday challenges of measuring up to sustaining the affective and emotional ties of domestic life. Donnarecon gured the boundary between what is edible and inedible at home by spitting out her kangaroo meat. Donna’s rejection of eating kangaroo at home is based not only on social and cultural expectations of kangaroos as a cute childhood friend and/or pest, but also the affective ties and emotional bonds of family life promoted by the (pleasurable) smell and sight of cooking lamb.

The affective work of visceral disgust in forging social groups and making sense of self and home is also demonstrated by Elizabeth, a 59-year-old chief executive of cer, who grew up in Wollongong and lives with her husband in the southern suburbs. She does not identify as an ‘adventurous eater’.

Elizabethexpressedaloveofredmeat, particularly roast beef. Drawing on a visceral approach, her love of roast beef may be examined as emotion that energises the labour of social reproduction and maintains strong connection with British culinary legacies. Elizabeth expressed intense revul- sion at kangaroo aromas. Pulling back from the container of roast kangaroo, and screw- ing up her nose, Elizabeth said: Can I just tell you one of the things that I don’t like about it [kangaroo] is the smell of it. To me it has a very distinct smell. Kangaroo meat and I don’t like that smell, so maybe that is something why I won’t eat it. Do you reckon it’s got a distinct smell? I do notice there is a very strong smell about it, and I think that’s what puts me off. Like I said, because, I don’t eat it. I don’t look at it. Do you know what I mean?

I don’t take any notice of it.

Elizabeth’s visceral disgust illustrates how kangaroo meat makes felt the ‘closeness of incommensurate categories’ (Probyn2000:

140); in this case, the boundary of the inedible and edible. Having experienced disgust from being in close proximity to kangaroo meat, Embodied geographies of kangaroo meat421 like Donna, Elizabeth asks: Do you reckon [believe] it’s [kangaroo] got a distinct smell?

Elizabeth calls for reassurances that I share her judgement of kangaroo as disgusting. The affective work of disgust is demonstrated by how Elizabeth aligns her food choices with British culinary traditions of roast beef. Here is an example of the intersection of disgust and the political work of affect. Disgust is transferredontokangarooasawayof bonding with others in relation to particular social norms (Probyn2000). In her everyday life, the personal is very clearly the political as Elizabeth avoids the uncomfortable feeling of disgust by avoiding close proximity to kangaroo. In Elizabeth’s words: ‘I don’t eat it [kangaroo]. I don’t look at it...I don’t take any notice of it.’ Elizabeth draws attention to how she actively seeks not to confront the visceral disgust she experiences in her body from eating or seeing kangaroo in the super- market. Avoiding kangaroo may be an every- day strategy to avoid addressing food provisioning practices that trouble neat boundaries, distinguishing humans from ani- mals, edible from inedible, home from else- where, and colonial from Australian Indigenous narratives of belonging.

Conclusion There is a great deal of government policy talk in Australia to substitute kangaroo for sheep as an integral part of changing diets for a changing climate. Kangaroo diets is just one example of how the neo-liberal state relies upon position- ing households as shouldering the lion’s burden of reducing greenhouse gas emis- sions despite ongoing neoliberalisation of industry (Castree2010). Moreover, the neoliberal state positions the subject within climate change programs, as both a rational‘consumer’ (Slocum2004) and ‘responsible, carbon-calculating individual’ (Dowling 2010: 492). I argue that understanding embodied geographies of shopping, cooking and eating kangaroo illustrates the current disconnect between the tools of neoliberal climatechangepoliciesandthewayfoodis bought, prepared and eaten in everyday life.

Embodied geographies provide vital clues to how the sensual body, affect and emotions work alongside sets of ideas about food, parenting, home and travel, to better understand the choices that compel partici- pants to eat or not eat kangaroo in different places.

First, I drew attention to the visceralities of difference by illustrating how eating kan- garoo was something some participants felt could best be performed in the comfort of a restaurant during a holiday to inland or northern Australia. For these participants, kangaroo remains con atedwithidealised and essentialised white cultural histories of kangaroo as ‘bush tucker’ that is mapped ontotothespacesandsubjectivitiesof tourism. White bodies eating kangaroo in restaurants of inland and northern Australia constitute each other as ‘normal’, moral and essential.

Second, I highlighted how meat consumers use eyes, ngers, tongues, mouths and noses to give voice to chicken, beef, lamb and pork as fresh, tasty or good quality. Switching the senses to shop, prepare and eat kangaroo requires a realignment of the consumer’s body.

Participants generally lacked the embodied skills to the particularities of kangaroo esh, voicing concern that the material properties of cooked kangaroo would be strong, tough and stringy.

Third, I demonstrated that at home, many participants had to confront and wrestle with the paradoxical cultural framing of kangar- 422Gordon Waitt oos. I drew attention to how visceral disgust allows subjectivity to be felt, expressed and questioned through a heightened awareness and blurring of an acceptable social order that underpins industrial food supply chains.

Eating kangaroo transgressed the social borders between edible/inedible, proximity/ distance, past/present, mind/body, human/ animal faeces/food and wild/farmed. Most participants did not choose to hide their disgust ‘under the surface of a sanitised veneer of acceptance’ (Probyn2000: 128). Instead, bringing a plate and plating-up dinner pro- vided an opportunity to explore the ways participants’ visceral disgust aligns and rea- ligns bodies within the power geometries that shape home. More work is required by social and cultural geographers to engage with the visceral in the eld of food politics.

Furthermore, in the context of changing climates, there is value in drawing on a visceral approach and embodied methodologies that engages with the affective, emotional and discursive dimensions of everyday life. A visceral approach may help to better under- stand, and question, the choices that inform a wide range of everyday homemaking practices that emit greenhouse gases such as cooling, driving, entertaining, laundering, refriger- ation, showering, heating and cooling. Embo- died geographical knowledge provides valuable insights to the challenges of a changing climate by offering possibilities to move beyond highly simpli ed assumptions often present in neoliberal policies of people as rational ‘consumers’ by remaining alert to ‘gut reactions’.

Acknowledgements First, I would like to thank the participants who generously gave their time. I am indebtedto the help of research assistants Bryce Appleby, Rebecca Bamford and Stephanie Toole. I am also grateful for the constructive and generous guidance on earlier drafts from four anonymous referees, Michael Brown, David Clifton, Carol Farbotko, Theresa Harada, Lesley Head, Andrew Gorman- Murray and Catherine Phillips. Funding for this project was provided by the Australian Research Council Discovery Grant,Making less space for carbon: cultural research for climate change mitigation and adaptation [DP0986041]. References Ahmed, S. (2004)The Cultural Politics of Emotion.

Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press.

Ampt, P. and Owen, K. (2008)Consumer Attitudes to Kangaroo Meat Products. Barton, ATC: Rural Indus- tries Research and Development Corporation, Austra- lian Government.

Anderson, B. (2012) Affect and bio-power: towards a politics of life,Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers37(1): 28 – 43.

Anderson, B. and Wylie, J. (2009) On geography and materiality,Environment and Planning A41: 318 – 334.

Archer, M. and Beale, B. (2004)Going Native. Sydney:

Hodder.

Australian Conservation Foundation (2010)Sustainable Cities Index: Ranking Australia’s 20 Largest Cities in 2010. Sydney: ACF.

Bannerman, C. (2006) Indigenous food and cookery books: rede ning Aboriginal cuisine,Journal of Australian Studies87: 19 – 36.

Barnett, C., Cloke, P., Clarke, N. and Malpass, A. (2005) Consuming ethics: articulating the subjects and spaces of ethical consumption,Antipode37(1): 23 – 45.

Bell, D. and Valentine, G. (1997)Consuming Geogra- phies: We are Where We Eat. London: Routledge.

Bondi, L. (2005) Making connections and thinking through emotions: between geography and psychother- apy,Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers 30(4): 433 – 448.

Bourdieu, P. (1984)Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgment of Taste. Cambridge, MA: Cambridge University Press.

Embodied geographies of kangaroo meat423 Caldwell, M. (2006) Tasting the world of yesterday and today: culinary tourism and nostalgia foods in Post- Soviet Russia, in Wilk, R. (ed.)Fast Food/Slow Food:

The Cultural Economy of the Global Food System.

Lanham, MD: AltaMira Press, pp. 97 – 112.

Carolan, M.S. (2011)Embodied Food Politics. Farnham:

Ashgate.

Castree, N. (2010) Neoliberalism and biophysical environ- ment: synthesis and evaluation of the research,Environ- ment and Society: Advances in Research1: 5 – 45.

Cook, I, Crang, P. and Thorpe, M. (1999) Eating into Britishness: multicultural imaginaries and the identity politics of food, in Roseneil, S. and Seymour, J. (eds) Practising Identities: Power and Resistance. Basing- stoke: Macmillan, pp. 223 – 248.

Cook, I. and Harrison, M. (2003) Cross over food:

rematerialising postcolonial geographies,Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers28(3): 296 – 317.

Cook, I. et al. (2006) Geographies of food: following, Progress in Human Geography30(5): 655 – 666.

Cook, I. et al. (2008) Geographies of food: mixing, Progress in Human Geography32(6): 821 – 833.

Costa, L.-R. and Besio, K. (2011) Eating Hawai’i: local foods and place-making in Hawai’i regional cuisine, Social & Cultural Geography12(8): 839 – 854.

Craw, C. (2008) The ecology of emblem eating:

environmentalism, nationalism and the framing of kangaroo consumption,Media International Australia 127: 82 – 94.

Darwin, C. (1998)The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals, 3rd ed. New York and Oxford:

Oxford University Press.

de Certeau, M., Giard, L. and Mayol, P. (1998)The Practice of Everyday Life: Living and Cooking, translated by T.J.

Tomasik. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.

Deleuze, G. (1997)Essays Critical and Clinical, translated by D.W. Smith and M.A. Greco. Minneapolis:

University of Minnesota Press.

Deleuze, G. and Guattari, F. (1987)Thousand Plateaus:

Capitalism and Schizophrenia, translated by B. Massumi.

Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.

Diesendorf, M. (2007)Paths to a Low-Carbon Future.

Epping, NSW: Sustainability Centre.

Dowling, R. (2010) Geographies of identity: climate change, governmentality and activism,Progress in Human Geography34: 488 – 495.

Flannery, T. (2004)Country: A Continent, a Scientist and a Kangaroo. Melbourne: Text Publishing.Foucault, M. (1994) The ethics of the care of self as a practice of freedom, in Rainbow, P. (ed.)Ethics:

Subjectivity and Truth, Essential Works of Foucault 1954 – 1984, translated by R. Hurley. New York: The New Press, pp. 281 – 302.

Foucault, M. (1995)Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison, translated by A. Sheridan. London: Penguin Books.

Freidberg, S. (2003) Editorial: not all sweetness and light:

new cultural geographies of food,Social & Cultural Geography4: 3 – 6.

Garnaut, R. (2008)Climate Change Review. Canberra:

Australian Government Publishing Service.

Goodman, M. (2004) Reading fair trade: political ecological imaginary and the moral economy of fair trade foods,Political Geography23(7): 891 – 915.

Grigg, G. (2002) Conservation bene t from harvesting kangaroos: status report at the start of a new millennium, in Lunney, D. and Dickman, C. (eds)A Zoological Revolution: Using Native Fauna to Assist in Its Own Survival. Mosman: Royal Zoological Society of New South Wales, pp. 53 – 77.

Guthman, J. (2002) Commodi ed meanings, meaningful commodities: rethinking production-consumption links through the organic system of provision,Sociologia Ruralis42(2): 295 – 311.

Guthman, J. (2003) Fast food/organic food: re exive tastes and the making of “yuppie chow”,Social & Cultural Geography4(1): 46 – 58.

Guthman, J. (2008) Bringing good food to others:

investigating the subjects of alternative food practice, Cultural Geographies15(4): 431 – 447.

Hayes-Conroy, A. and Hayes-Conroy, J. (2008) Taking back taste: feminism, food and visceral politics,Gender, Place and Culture: A Journal of Feminist Geography15:

461 – 473.

Hayes-Conroy, A. and Hayes-Conroy, J. (2010) Visceral difference: variations in feeling (slow) food,Environ- ment and Planning A42: 2956 – 2971.

Hayes-Conroy, A. and Hayes-Conroy, J. (2013) Veggies and visceralities: a political ecology of food and eating, Emotion, Space and Society6: 81 – 90.

Hayes-Conroy, A. and Martin, D.G. (2010) Mobilising bodies: visceral identi cation in the Slow Food move- ment,Transactions of the Institute of British Geogra- phers35: 269 – 281.

Heldke, L. (2003)Exotic Appetites: Ruminations of a Food Adventurer. New York: Routledge.

424Gordon Waitt Hercock, M. (2004) The wild kangaroo industry:

developing the potential for sustainability,Environmen- talist24: 73 – 86.

Hooks, B. (1992) Eating the other: desire and resistance, in Hooks, B. (ed.)Black Looks: Race and Representation.

Boston, MA: South End Press, pp. 21 – 39.

Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (2007) Climate Change 2007: Climate Change Impacts, Adaptation and Variability. Summary for Policy- makers. Working Group II Contribution to the IPCC Fourth Assessment Report. Available from:http:// www.ipcc.ch/ Jackson, P. (1999) Commodity culture: the traf c in things,Transactions of the Institute of British Geo- graphersNS 24(1): 95 – 108.

Jackson, S. and Vernes, K. (2010)Kangaroo: Portrait of an Extraordinary Marsupial. Crows Nest, NSW: Allen & Unwin.

Jayne, M., Valentine, G. and Holloway, S. (2010) Emotional, embodied and affective geographies of alcohol, drinking and drunkenness,Tr a n s a c t i o n s of the Institute of British Geographers35:

540 – 554.

Kangaroo Industry Association of Australia (2008) Kangaroo Industry Background, Available from:http ://www.kangaroo-industry.asn.au/morinfo/BACKGR1.

HTM(accessed 26 October 2012).

Law, L. (2001) Home cooking: Filipino women and geographies of the senses in Hong Kong,Cultural Geographies8(3): 264 – 283.

Law, J. and Hassard, J. (eds) (1999)Actor Network Theory and After. Oxford: Blackwell Publishers.

Longhurst, R., Johnston, L. and Ho, E. (2008) Using ‘the body’ as an ‘instrument of research’: kimch’I and pavlova,Area40: 208 – 217.

Longhurst, R., Johnston, L. and Ho, E. (2009) A visceral approach: cooking ‘at home’ with migrant women in Hamilton, New Zealand,Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers34: 333 – 335.

Mauss, M. (1934/1973) Techniques of the body,Economy and Society2(1): 70 – 88.

May, J. (1996) ‘A little taste of something more exotic’:

the imaginative geographies of everyday life,Geography 81(1): 57 – 64.

Morrison, M., McSweeney, C.S. and Wright, A.-D.G. (2007) The vertebrate animal gut in context, microbiomes, metagenomes and methane,Microbiology Australia 28(3): 107 – 110.

Of ce of Environment and Heritage (2012)New South Wales Commercial Kangaroo Harvest ManagementPlan, 2007 – 2011. Sydney: Of ce of Environment and Heritage.

Pink, S. (2004)Home Truths: Gender, Domestic Objects and Everyday Life. Oxford: Berg.

Porter, J. (2006) New name cooked up for kangaroo,Food Companion International, Sep., p. 34.

Probyn, E. (2000)Carnal Appetites: Food Sex Identities.

New York: Routledge.

Probyn, E. (2012) Feeding the world: towards a messy ethics of eating, in Lewis, T. and Pottter, E. (eds)Ethical Consumption: A Critical Introduction. Abingdon, Oxon: Routledge, pp. 103 – 115.

Purtell, D. and Associates (1997)Improving Consumer Perceptions of Kangaroo Products: A Survey and Report. Barton, ATC: Rural Industries Research and Development Corporation.

Roe, E.J. (2006) Things becoming food and the embodied, material practices of an organic food consumer,Socio- logia Ruralis46(2): 104 – 121.

Rozin, P., Jonathan, H. and McCauley, C.R. (2000) Disgust, in Lewis, M. and Haviland-Jones, J.M. (eds) Handbook of Emotions. New York: Guilford Press, pp. 575 – 594.

Slocum, R. (2004) Polar bears and energy-ef cient light- bulbs: strategies to bring climate change home,Environ- ment and Planning D: Society and Space22: 413 – 438.

Slocum, R. (2008) Thinking race through corporeal feminist theory: divisions and intimacies at the Minneapolis Farmers’ Market,Social & Cultural Geography9(8): 849 – 869.

Thien, D. (2005) After of beyond feeling? A consideration of affect and emotion in geography,Area34(4):

450 – 454.

Thomsen, D.A., Muir, K. and Davies, J. (2006) Aboriginal perspectives on kangaroo management in South Australia,The Rangeland Journal28(2): 127 – 137.

Thrift, N. (2008)Non-Representational Theory: Space/ Politics/Affect. New York: Routledge.

Tomkins, S. (1991)Affect, Imagery, Consciousness, Vol. I.

New York: Springer.

Waitt, G. (1997) Selling paradise and adventure: represen- tations of landscape in the tourist advertising of Australia, Australian Geographical Studies35(1): 47 – 60.

Waitt, G., Caputi, P., Gibson, C., Farbotko, C., Head, L., Gill, N. and Stanes, E. (2012) Sustainable household capability:

which households are doing the work of environmental sustainability?,Australian Geographer37: 45 – 55.

Waitt, G., Forbotko, C. and Criddle, B. (2012) Scalar politics of climate change: regions emissions and responsibility,Media International143: 36 – 46. Embodied geographies of kangaroo meat425 Whatmore, S. (2002)Hybrid Geographies. London:

Sage.

Wilson, G.R. and Edwards, M.J. (2008) Native wildlife on rangeland to minimise methane and produce lower- emission meat: kangaroos versus livestock,Conserva- tion Letters1: 119 – 128.

Abstract translations Incarnations ge ´ographiques de la viande de kangourou Un nombre croissant de chercheurs dans le domaine de la ge ´ographie sociale et culturelle s’inte ´resse a ` l’e ´tude de la nourriture a n d’explorer les questions e ´thiques, civiques et sociales. Je de ´veloppe les analyses en m’appuyant sur le visce ´ral. En puisant dans le travail the ´orique d’Elspeth Probyn, je soumets que manger re ´ve `le l’ambigu ¨ite ´fondamen- tale d’incarnation, nous permettant de traiter des visce ´ralite ´s de diffe ´rence telles que nous les comprenons dans le contexte de ge ´ome ´tries du pouvoir qui forment et reforment les politiques alimentaires. Cette analyse est promue par le fait que le gouvernement du Commonwealth australien soutient les suggestions de la part de scienti ques environnementaux de remplacer le kangourou des repas familiaux par le be ´tail d’e ´levage pour diminuer l’e ´mission de gaz a `effet de serre.

J’examine les gou ˆts pour le kangourou lors de conversations alors me ˆme qu’il e ´tait servi, et quelquefois dige ´re ´par des blancs dans les cuisines et les salles-a `-manger de trente foyers de Wollon- gong, New South Wales. Pour expliquer ou `le kangourou est rendu immangeable ou comestible, je me sers de la reconnaissance du fait que le domaine visce ´ral – raconte ´a `travers les aro ˆmes, les gou ˆts et le toucher – donne un aperc u du lieu, de lasubjectivite ´, des compe ´tences repre ´sente ´es et des politiques alimentaires.

Mots-clefs:visce ´ral, politiques alimentaires, kan- gourou, foyer, Australie.

Geograf ´as corporales de carne de canguro Una creciente a ´rea de estudio en la geograf ´a social y cultural ha puesto su intere ´s en el ana ´lisis de alimentos para explorar cuestiones e ´ticas, c ´vicas y sociales. Las cr ´ticasson desarrolladas a trave ´sde un compromiso con lo visceral. Basa ´ndose en el trabajo teo ´rico de Elspeth Probyn, se sostiene que el comer revela la ambigu ¨edad fundamental de lo corpo ´reo, lo que permite observar las visceralidades de la diferencia tal como se las entiende en el contexto de las geometr ´asde poder que modela y remodela la pol ´tica alimentaria. Este ana ´lisis es promovido por sugerencias de cient ´ cos ambien- tales aprobadas por el gobierno australiano de la Commonwealth, las cuales indican que las comidas en los hogares que incluyen canguro deber ´an ser sustituidas por ganado de cr ´a para reducir las emisiones de gases de efecto invernadero. Se investiga el apetito por la carne de canguro mientras es servido a la mesa, y a veces cuando se digiere, por individuos de raza blanca en cocinas y comedores dentro de treinta hogares en Wollongong, Nueva Gales del Sur. Para explicar do ´nde el canguro se considera no comestible, o comestible, se reconoce que el reino visceral–narrado a trave ´s de aromas, sabores y tacto–ofrece un entendimiento ma ´s claro acerca del lugar, la subjetividad, las destrezas integradas y la pol ´ticaalimentaria.

Palabras claves:visceral, pol ´tica alimentaria, canguro, hogar, Australia.

426Gordon Waitt Copyright ofSocial &Cultural Geography isthe property ofRoutledge anditscontent may not becopied oremailed tomultiple sitesorposted toalistserv without thecopyright holder's express writtenpermission. However,usersmayprint, download, oremail articles for individual use.