I just read The Purity Myth: How America's Obsession with Virginity Is Hurting Young Women by Jessica Valenti. Ms. Valenti has authored several books, in addition to being the Executive Editor of feministing.com and she is a woman after my own heart.
In this book she takes on this country's very popular and powerful abstinence-only movement that puts a lot of stock in reserving virginity until (heterosexual) marriage or else be considered ruined, particularly in the case of young women. The Purity Myth examines the very nature of "purity," and breaks down the movement down to its most basic element: the fetishization of virginity on the grounds of morality is just another societally institutionalized and sanctioned way to control women's bodies.
Throughout the book she makes a strong argument about how female sexuality has been maligned throughout history, exposing ways in which it is politicized and treated in reductive, insulting, and ultimately dangerous ways in the name of achieving a state of being that doesn't quite exist.
To me, the crux of this argument is summarized in a quote from primatologist Barbara Smuts that opens a chapter on page 185: "If female sexuality is muted compared to that of men, then why must men the world over go to extreme lengths to control and contain it?" It's about control and power.
Valenti addresses the ever-prevalent Madonna/whore dichotomy, touches upon subjects such as abortion rights and the perpetuation of the idea that women are the "sexual gatekeepers" who bear the responsibility for male sexual behavior, and points out how female pleasure is hardly ever mentioned when discussing sex education, abstinence-only or otherwise.
Near the conclusion, she writes:
That's ultimately what she--what we, as women--are up against, the co-opting and twisting of ideas about sexuality in a way that makes it seem like the desire for equality, hell, even the right to desire equally, is directly at odds with personal morality. And enough is enough.
Though The Purity Myth is hardly an objective tome--it draws a distinct line of battle in its title--I think it is well researched and well reasoned and I'd highly recommend it. Of course, since Valenti and are so like-minded on this subject, me reading this book is a classic case of preaching to the choir. But even though the book will probably do nothing to change the minds of hardcore purity-movement enthusiasts (even if they did take the time to read it), it's valuable as a passionate and humane cry for real thought and discourse. Throughout the book Valenti encourages personal responsibility, and offers many ways in which readers can affect change, be it through activism, blogging, or helping to re-frame one person's outlook, even if just her own.
It's important to me that a book like this exists because, if nothing else, it drives home again and again how preposterous it is to base a person's entire worth on whether or not they have had sex (however that is defined). That goes for men and women, though clearly women are and always have been most harshly judged in this arena. And while that seems like such a simple, obvious notion, I come across examples to the contrary--in real life and in fiction--several times a day. It's the world we live in, but it doesn't mean we have to live with it.
Back to the fiction trail, now. Currently reading: Diary of a Chav by Grace Dent; After the Moment by Garret Freymann-Weyr
Written material copyright 2009 Dawn A. Emerman
