1984

1984: 60th Anniversary Edition
1983
Weight: 9.6 oz
Method of Disposal: Gave to my friend, Tracy

I can no longer imagine living in this world without having read 1984. Its language has become community language. Its themes are embedded in a collective memory. We always hear talk of “Big Brother.” In other books, movies, conversations, interviews, everywhere. It is hard to block it out of your mind when you walk into a store with an automated voice that greets you by saying, “You are on camera. Do not steal anything.” Upon looking up, you see several monitors with your image from various angles. The word “Orwellian” occur to you? It has survived for decades and has been passed down and down. It warned/scared people then, and it still does now. The constant war, the censorship, the surveillance, the national identity, the propaganda always seems eerily familiar.

If you have not read this book yet, you should. You will hear it referred to throughout your life no matter what, but if you read it you will understand why.
"Your worst enemy, he reflected, was your nervous system. At any moment the tension inside you was liable to translate itself into some visible symptom."

Whores and Other Feminists

Whores and Other Feminists edited by Jill Nagle
1997
Weight: 12 oz
Method of Disposal: Selling



This book was much better than my last attempt to read about feminism and the sex industry. I started reading this book about 4 years ago, on a plane going to Chicago, and I finally finished it about 4 months ago. The second time I picked it up I could not put it down. I have been very reluctant to get rid of it. There were definitely segments of the book that I found less than impressive and some that really irritated me but, for the most part, I was smitten. I still want so much more, but I recommend that you put this on your reading list, amongst others. There isn’t enough written on the topic by people in the industry, but the genre seems to be growing all the time. Side note: I am still sad you are gone, Spread Magazine.
I will break the book down as quickly as possible. After the preface, introduction, and acknowledgements you are put into the world of the peep show and how it feels for one woman to work within it. Then, you meet a feminist who loves to write pornographic stories. The third piece is Cosi Fabian describing why she is “proud—and happy—to be called ‘whore’” (53). Ann Renee has a short piece about wanting “to fuck the world.” Nina Hartley writes about porn and the adult entertainment industry. She talks to us about her exploration of sex and how important having a good sex life can be. She is an adventurer and a teacher. Annie Sprinkle offers a valuable and short chapter on how to fight of sex worker burn out syndrome.

And then we are on to part 2, and it just gets better. This section gets more into a larger-scale portrait of sex work. It gets into the structures, legal, social, and in pop culture. In “Love for Sale” Eve Pendleton writes, accurately, that “sex workers provide a powerful indictment of gender roles by demanding payment for playing them: feminism would be transformed and strengthened by incorporating this analysis” (81). I also agree with Priscilla Alexander who writes, “I believe as long as women are arrested for the crime of being sexually assertive, for standing on the street without a socially acceptable purpose or a male chaperone, I am not free” (84).

The 3rd section is dedicated to “reversal, subversion, and re-vision.” We get to read about male prostitution, BDSM, feminist pornography, the Mustang Ranch, and a butch Gigolette with a wonderful guide to “negotiating your desires.” One of my least favorite pieces was contained in part 3, and it was about the Mustang Ranch. Some things about it rubbed me the wrong way. Monet always wanted to go to the Ranch and so one day a boyfriend brought her. The women at the Ranch were less than welcoming. First, she expresses disappointment that they had to choose from women who were o.k. with a couple, and she “wondered why didn’t get to pick girl from the traditional lineup” (168). She later states that she wishes she could have been treated like a male customer and mentions the lineup again saying she couldn’t take part in the usual “just because some of the girls think eating pussy is gross” (168). She realized “homophobia was alive and well in the desert” (168). Then she talks about wanting to rescue the woman she eventually has her fantasy with. Luckily, that need to rescue is later turned into a need to educate and gain sex worker’s rights. She realizes that sex work is worth everything you might be asked to spend, and she values the experience. The last paragraph of the essay is great. The stuff before it is frustrating. I believe she ran into homophobia at the Ranch, but I think it is perfectly acceptable for a woman not to want to have sex with other women and to claim that as a boundary she is not willing to cross. We should all have a say in who we sleep with so I did not understand her level of irritation and the idea of rescuing disturbed me, but she immediately recovered from that. Overall, I got very little from this particular essay.

The 4th section is about “myth, stigma, and silence.” Stacy Reed exposes common myths about strip clubs and strippers. She writes that she was safer at the clubs than in her own home (186). A fat sex phone operator talks about how she worries about the political implications of what she does and admits to acting thinner over the phone, but she also writes that "Sex work has taught me that I own my body. It has taught me that sex is a choice. That work is a choice. That what is attractive about me is not a lie. That telling stories gives me power. (190). She says, "Sex work is like real life. Only straighter. And thinner" (190). And, ultimately, therein lies the problem with sex work. It is not better than the rest of the world. It is a part of it. Sexism, racism, ableism become a part of it because they are a part of larger society. Sex work and pornography do not create those problems, but they can be infiltrated by them--just like everything else.

Then we hear from a sex-positive dike writer. That is followed by a discussion about women of color in sex work, which exposes the racism that is not escaped by working in a “fringe” job. 6 women have a discussion about what it is like to work in the industry, and they are all from different backgrounds and have different experiences. In chapter 22, an ex-LAPD officer left her job after 10 years and becomes involved with sex work. She was burnt out and horrified by the abuses she saw other officers committing, some officers were even busted having sex with minors as young as 10 years old (213). After becoming a call girl, she would get arrested and experience the fear of being detained first hand. She was working on a book to expose the abuses within the LAPD, and that made a lot of people unhappy with her. She ends her essay with this statement, “I am one prostitute that no one and nothing can silence—not eighteen months in prison, not the women of the Coalition Against Trafficking in Women, not an apathetic media, and certainly not the police!” (216). I, for one, am glad to hear it.

The 4th section ends with another piece by Monet where she describes being outside of the industry and then inside of it. She talks about the importance of words. Specifically, “slut” and “whore.” She writes, “If we as feminists use these words to stigmatize some women—any women—then we are part of the problem. We must embrace these labels or we will continue to be controlled by them. One need not be a sex worker to experience being a bad girl; one can simply refuse to wear the label of the good girl, and let people assume she is sexually experienced, forward, and promiscuous, even if she is not” (222). Agreed.

The final section is on “Activism, Intervention, and Alliance.” The Scarlet Harlot tells us about her invention of the term “sex work.” Lyndall Maccowan interviews Denise Turner about organizing and worker demands in a massage parlor. We are then led into the scary world of Men Against Pornography and what it means to be a sex-positive male feminist. Teri Goodson writes about being a part of NOW despite the stigma that surrounds sex work in the organization and Siobhan Brooks writes about racism at the lusty lady, a petition, and her push for change. Joan Kennedy Taylor discusses the Sex Wars and a woman’s right to pornography.

All of this is followed by an appendix of “organizations for sex worker support, advocacy, education, and professional advancement” (259). It is dated information, and I could not find all of the groups that were listed. I was particularly sad about not being able to track down the Atlanta based group. Plenty of the groups are still around though, so you should take a look and find other, new ones. As you can tell, with this break down, this book covers a lot of ground in under 300 pages. It is well worth your time. There is a lot to learn!

There is so much talk, lately, about sex trafficking and child slavery. Movies, books, sting/bust shows, radio interviews, and new legislation can be found at every turn. It is important to protect children from being kidnapped and sold for sex. That is one of the more deplorable things you hear about, and it must be combated. But let’s make sure we do not conflate that issue with the adult, consensual, selling of sex. The sex industry is an umbrella for all types of people and all sorts of work. It is complicated, but the one thing we know is that people need more protections and more respect. We also know that sex workers are human beings, with lives, friends, and family members. They are not separate entities who deserve abuse, arrest, and contempt.

Check out this shit:

http://colorlines.com/archives/2011/03/federal_civil_rights_suit_challenges_louisianas_felony_sex_work_law.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+racewireblog+%28ColorLines%29

Let’s do something about it. Any ideas?

Sex My Studies Up

Jane Sexes It Up: True Confessions of Feminist Desire Edited by Merri Lisa Johnson
2002
Weight: 15 oz
Method of Disposal: Giving to my friend Tracy



Feminism and Sexuality are two topics that I believe cannot be discussed separately. They come up a lot in conversation. People struggle to grapple with the two together, but there is no other option. I feel comfortable in the many layers of possibility enveloped in the blanket terms, feminism and sexuality. I consider myself pro-sex, whatever that really means. I love talking about sex, reading about it, discovering new things, enjoying new experiences. I am a huge fan of sex toys, sex talks, porn, and people having the right to provide sex work while maintaining their safety and respect.

I often have to think and then re-think my defense of porn and/or sex work. It is a strange and blurry area. The Feminist Sex Wars have been written about a lot, and I have respected women on both sides of the pro/anti-porn debate. I spent a good deal of my college-life studying Catherine MacKinnon, loving her and disagreeing with her all the way (she did convince me to become a vegetarian). I am fluent in Pat Califia. Dworkin holds a special place in a crevice of my heart. I cannot possibly forget my past desire to follow in the footsteps of Susie Bright or, hell, even Sue Johanson. I’m not picky. I just want to talk to people about how incredible and versatile sex can be.

Recently, discussion about porn, sex work, and human rights has been renewed in my life. I find myself with some of the same questions I thought I had already answered and some news answers that question the ideas I had once fully developed. I am uncomfortable in some of my beliefs again, and I am more confident than ever in others. I am confused. This is not an unusual feeling, but it has been awhile. I am excited to rake it all over again and give it another look-see. It is an ongoing conversation I am having with Tracy that has me re-reading a large stack of books on feminism and sexuality. I am going to pass the stack onto her when I am finished because I think she has her own confusion—different than my own in many ways, though there are overlaps. This is the first book in the stack.

As per usual, I had high hopes for Jane Sexes it Up, but I wasn’t overly impressed. I also don’t think it helped me work out any answers for all of my questions. I found myself periodically checking the publication date to make sure it was really written after the year 2000. If it had been in the late 80’s I might have been more enthused. I felt too young for the essays, but too uncomfortable with my potential ageism to admit it right away. It all felt so dated to me.

“Fuck You and Your Untouchable Face” consistently quotes one of my favorite Ani Difranco songs--when I was in high school. I still love me some Difranco, but it felt weird. I appreciate the author’s honesty and openness, and I respect a good conversation about queering heterosexuality. I just didn’t learn anything, and I don’t know what she meant when she used the words “queering heterosexuality.” There was too much reservation in “Of the Flesh and Fancy: Spanking and the Single Girl.” And who judges spanking anymore? I know people do, but I am not around those people much so I forget. And what is wrong with the word “flog” or “flogging?” I like a good flogging from time to time, and I like that it is not dainty.

I did like “Liquid Fire: Female Ejaculation and Fast Feminism.” That might have been the best essay. I wasn’t anxious to leave it. I wanted to follow her through the sex club, and she was a good leader. I liked her sexual openness and how she subtly showed how you can maintain control of your body and your consent in a building with many sexual partners with a simple word or sentence if everyone respects each other. It doesn’t have to “take you out of the moment,” and everyone can maintain their hunger. The lessons on ejaculating were enlightening, and the author seemed confident.

“Scrutiny and The Female Porn Scholar” and “Pearl Necklace” had so much potential, but they quickly became some of my least favorite portions of the book. “Pearl Necklace” had me. I was so onboard with the masturbation, the ejaculation, the bath tub water turning cold, the rape fantasies, but she lost me somewhere in all her rape language. She defended it with her so whats, I like its, and who cares. Are those even a defense? Could you try just a little? I am all about rape fantasy, forceful sex, role playing, BDSM, and so on and so forth, but consent is my #1. And I don’t mean just saying “no” if something is unwelcome. Where was the discussion about consent, safety, consideration, and respect? “A Cock of One’s Own: Getting a Firm Grip on Feminist Sexual Power” was an essay I could not relate to but could see vague outlines of in my memory. I cannot remember the last time I spoke with someone who was anti-dildo, but I have girlfriends of friends of friends who are anti-dildo. I know they are out there. I have read about them in letters and in this essay, but I don’t see a lot of it in my sexual partners.

Maybe I am just super-sexed. I mean, maybe I hoped something would shock me, compel me, maybe even turn me on but nothing did. Worst of all, I don’t think I learned anything and the book came nowhere near helping me with my new prostitution and porn dilemma. I guess I didn’t know what Vulvodynia was before, and I do now. I thank Kantinka for sharing her story with me and all of us. I am not sure it gave me a good pro-porn argument, but I am glad I read it. It gave a good reason for why one might watch porn, but I can think of 100 of those. I need more good reasons for why people make porn-- other than money. A subversion of the patriarchy, playing with the strict rules of society, promoting sexual fun and play, helping others in their exploration of sexuality, pure enjoyment, just a job, what? Where do all these reasons fit into the dominant porn industry? Is it fair to look at “mainstream” porn and judge all porn? It seems that (at least in a capitalist society) the big rigs always have some fucked up idea of morality and the small, little independents struggle to stay alive. I don’t know what the answer is. Maybe we just need to be more responsible about how we purchase sex. Is there a Conscience Consumer list out there for the sex industry? Can anyone help? Do you have any book recommendations? I have many more books to come, Whores and Other Feminists being the next.