Sex
The case of the frozen penis
Most young feminists just talk about deconstructing the phallus. But when two undergrads saw a white willy rising above Harvard Yard, they reached for their shovels.
For a few hours at Harvard this month, the dominance of the white male phallus was not just a concept. At around 10 p.m. on Feb. 11, a dozen rowers on the university crew team completed work on a 9-foot-6-inch tall penis made of snow, complete with according to a Feb. 19 article in the Crimson — “life-like veins, a urethral bulge, and a sizeable scrotum.” Rising into the hallowed air of Harvard Yard, the Snow Manhood attracted scores of supportive onlookers and, you might say, onlickers — not to mention inquiries about the identity of the sculpture’s model.
But it turns out they had trouble keeping it up. Later that night, offended undergrad roommates Amy Keel, 20, and Mary Clare Cardinale, 22, used cardboard tubes and shovels to knock the makeshift monument down.
Vandalism! Puritanism! Misogyny! Too much free time! Raging in dining halls, women’s groups, and in the pages of the Crimson, the ensuing — and ongoing — debate over the limits of 1) free expression and 2) feminists’ sense of humor has been a veritable winter carnival of overthinking and overreacting. Harvard men will be boys; Harvard women will learn, sooner or later, which battles to bother with.
That said, you don’t need a Harvard degree to understand why some folks there might have been put off by the single-entendre sculpture. Harvard has notoriously few tenured female faculty; its new sexual assault grievance procedure is under investigation by the U.S. Department of Education’s Office of Civil Rights for being in possible violation of Title IX. Also, it was a giant white penis.
“I realize [the sculpture] was just a joke and that there was no malicious intent, but it propagated the notion that women don’t really belong here. It felt like it kind of put us in our place,” says Keel, who has received a blizzard of hate e-mail since the incident.
That snowy night, the crew team was actually trying to do something wholesome. “We don’t want to get into trouble for drinking, so we have to try to find other activities to bring freshmen into the team,” says captain Mike Skey, 23, a senior economics major from New Jersey. “So we thought, Let’s make a snow sculpture! Good clean fun! We can’t get into trouble for that!”
OK, but a penis? “The snow man is a little redundant. We thought the penis would be a good idea since we thought everyone would find it funny,” Skey explains. “We thought that at most people would find it immature, not offensive.”
When Mary Clare Cardinale happened by the construction project, she giggled at first, then started to wonder: “The whole community goes through here, tourists and old folks — what would they think? It wasn’t so much the feminist thing for me. [The sculpture] was not appropriate for where it was,” says the senior government major from Queens, N.Y.
“She came home and told me about it, and I was like, ‘Let’s take it down!’” says Keel, who claims that the two were threatened and shoved by male students during the process of deconstructing the phallus.
Keel defiantly took responsibility for the act in a Feb. 21 letter to the Crimson. “I, Amy Elise Keel, proudly own up to the fact that it was indeed me — with my roommate — who dismantled the obscene snow penis ‘sculpture,’” she wrote. “The unwanted image of an erect penis is an implied threat; it means that we, as women, must be subject to erect penises whether we like it or not.” The paper went on to have a field day with headlines such as “Ruined Snow Penis Stimulates Debate” (Feb. 24).
Women’s studies lecturer Diane L. Rosenfeld was “not anxious to comment further” on the issue, saying that the paper’s oversimplification of her comments had already gotten her enough hate mail. Can’t blame her: The Crimson makes her sound like a Lampoon parody of a feminist scholar. (Wrote reporter Hana Alberts: “[Professor Rosenfeld] said the snow penis follows a long line of public phallic symbols, including the Washington Monument and missiles.” Oh dear.)
But just a few days earlier, the Crimson ran an editorial that read like a Lampoon parody of a pretentious Harvard pseudo-scholar. Calling the snow schlong a work of “challenging art,” executive editor Jonathan H. Esensten asked: “Why did the enormous phallus elicit such iconoclastic fanaticism?” He then performed an irony-free analysis of the “long, and distinguished history of phallic imagery in art.” Example: Since the soldiers in Aristophanes’ “Lysistrata” “can no longer fight because of their chronically-swollen members,” he explained, “the phallus is a symbol of peace.” Citing examples of phallic imagery in ancient Hindu and Egyptian culture, Esensten concluded that “the Greeks were not alone in their positive association with the tumescent male appendage.”
I guess the Harvard women didn’t take that class.
Award-winning journalist Lynn Harris is author of the comic novel "Death by Chick Lit" and co-creator of BreakupGirl.net. She also writes for the New York Times, Glamour, and many others. More Lynn Harris.
Massage therapists rubbed wrong by sex talk
A Jennifer Love Hewitt show and the Travolta allegations have masseuses tired of being confused for sex workers
(Credit: iStockphoto/sybanto) Joe, a licensed massage therapist, knows what it’s like having a famous client who expects something extra. He had an Academy Award-winning actor begin gyrating on his massage table before raising his hips in the air to show off his erection. “He was hoping that I would play with him in some shape or form,” he says.
Needless to say, Joe isn’t surprised by allegations by two masseurs that John Travolta got handsy during massages. (Travolta’s attorney has denied all the allegations, and called them “ridiculous.”) “It happens all the time,” he says, and not just with celebrity clients. He frequently encounters men who try to fondle him, usually while he’s working on their glutes or lower back and their hand happens to be level with his crotch. “They think they’re so original, but they’re all so much the same,” Joe says, his voice rising. “They all use the same tactics, the same body movements, the same gyrations and grinding my table, the [heavy] breathing.”
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Tracy Clark-Flory is a staff writer at Salon. Follow @tracyclarkflory on Twitter. More Tracy Clark-Flory.
A night at the vibrator museum
Early vibrators were hand-cranked, two-person jobs -- and prescribed by doctors. How far we've come since then
(Credit: Antique Vibrator Museum) I can now say that I’ve used a turn-of-the-century vibrator — on my hand, but still.
The silver, hand-cranked contraption is usually kept behind glass at Good Vibrations’ Antique Vibrator Museum in San Francisco — but staff sexologist Carol Queen made a rare exception. “This is very special,” she whispered, unlocking the case and carefully pulling out Dr. Johansen’s Auto Vibrator, a relic from 1904. The “auto” part is not so much: It was a two-person job, with her having to crank the device’s handle to get it thrumming. Pressing my finger tips to its inch-wide circular platform of pleasure, I was pleasantly surprised by its power.
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Tracy Clark-Flory is a staff writer at Salon. Follow @tracyclarkflory on Twitter. More Tracy Clark-Flory.
Maggie Gyllenhaal on sexual liberation
The beloved indie star tells Salon about her "vibrator movie" and why she loves playing transgressive women
Maggie Gyllenhaal (Credit: Reuters/Mark Blinch) When I met Maggie Gyllenhaal about six weeks ago, she was enormously and gloriously pregnant, stretching out on a sofa with her shoes off and feet up in a Manhattan office building. (Since that time, Gyllenhaal and husband Peter Sarsgaard have welcomed their second daughter, Gloria Ray, to the world.) We were there to talk about “Hysteria,” the charming, lightweight feminist farce from director Tanya Wexler that explores a key event in the history of female sexuality: the invention of the vibrator by Mortimer Granville, a Victorian doctor who was seeking to cure the mysterious “female malady” that lends the movie its title.
Continue Reading CloseMother-daughter sexperts
Susie Bright and her daughter, Aretha, make parental talks about sex look easy -- and fun
Most parents loathe talking to their kids about the birds and the bees, let alone pubic hair grooming, faked orgasms and “water sports” — but most parents are not legendary “sexpert” Susie Bright.
Better than talking about these things, she penned an advice column in 2009 with her daughter, Aretha, then 19, for the ladyblog Jezebel. Their answers to questions about everything from porn to Paxil were unflinching but playful, and at times controversial. Now the pair have collected those columns into a new e-book, “Mother/Daughter Sex Advice.” Together, they read as an irreverent version of “Our Bodies, Ourselves” for the Internet age. The mother-daughter team also reflect on what the experience of writing the column was like, and it turns out it wasn’t as weird as many would think: For the most part, it was just a continuation of conversations they had been having throughout Aretha’s life.
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Tracy Clark-Flory is a staff writer at Salon. Follow @tracyclarkflory on Twitter. More Tracy Clark-Flory.
On the rack: A cultural history of breasts
Did breasts evolve for lactation or to enhance sex appeal? A new book explores why they matter
(Credit: iStockphoto/NadyaPhoto) It’s hard to be boobs. Sure, breasts are cherished as givers of milk and the pinnacle of sex appeal, but the modern world hasn’t been good to mammaries.
As Florence Williams writes in “Breasts: A Natural and Unnatural History,” they’re the most tumor-prone organ in the human body. They “soak up pollution like a pair of soft sponges,” and transmit environmental toxins to babies through breast milk. “Breasts are bellwethers for the changing health of people,” she says. While we’ve “genetically modified our crops to be able to protect them from the ill effects of pesticides,” Williams writes, “we haven’t yet figured out how to modify our breasts.” Aside from using saline and silicone, of course.
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Tracy Clark-Flory is a staff writer at Salon. Follow @tracyclarkflory on Twitter. More Tracy Clark-Flory.
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