#dirtywords2

[trixclibrarian]

dirty words: cunt, clit, blood, puss, shit (installment 2)

trixclibrarian: dirty words (installment 1)

You might get the impression that I’m one of those completely touchy feely, mystical magical, believe in the zodiac and psychics, herbalist, massage therapist, spiritualist type of girls, sometimes, if you listen to me talk (and I *do* talk a lot). But I’m not, really. I’ll admit I’m a dabbler,...

dirty words: cunt, clit, blood, puss, shit (installment 2)

Let me explain.

 If you don’t know what the Vagina Monologues are, you should definitely, in my too often less than humble opinion, find out. Google it. Meet the author, Eve Ensler, and her orginal one-fucking-kickass-woman show brought to you by the whole female human race. Buy the dvd, buy the book, find your nearest local production at a college (in Febraury, for Valentine’s Day) and go see the show. Donate. Bring your tissues and your laughter and your courage and your conscience. It’s all about stopping violence against women and it’s one incredible ongoing piece of non-violent activism.

But to be a little less obtuse, the Vagina Monologues is a production piece, originally written and performed by one woman, Eve Ensler. She is a journalist, (a *writer* ~ *people*), who started interviewing women about their vaginas. Like me, she recognized how common place, how powerful, how undeniable the fact is that language about men’s bodies is an everyday part of all of our vernaculars. Like me, I imagine that she likes that power. I believe Eve recognizes that when we use these words, “cocksucker” and these phrases, “he’s got balls” our utterances are like incantations, calling forth the sensuous metaphoric power of men’s bodies through words. So there’s nothing wrong with this talk – or with the power that goes with it.

The problem lies, in the differential – the power differential.  The real-life power differential, created when we fail to also bring the language of women’s bodies into our vernacular.  Eve saw, I believe, with amazing wisdom and insight, the connection between failing to talk about women’s bodies and the unspoken assumed right to commit violence against them.

So she took the stories women told her about their bodies when she was interviewing them to ask specifically about their vaginas, and she wove them into a collective of real true stories. And the effect is captivating. Then she performed it and became an activist, donating proceeds to stop violence and creating a foundation. Then, and here’s the really amazing part, she began giving her gorgeous creation away. Each year, she invites women at colleges around the world to perform the piece as a bit of reader’s theatre, with local women doing the stories and donating the money to local women’s charities. It’s cool as hell.

The second year, I did a piece called THE VAGINA WORKSHOP which is very dear to me and will always be, in my mind, the centerpiece of the whole show. It’s got some humor and some serious moments, I did my best to play them both and ended up in real genuine tears (and snot) by the time I finished the piece at all three performances. Here’s what it taught me: as impossible as it would be to lose your clitoris, it’s that impossible to lose your identity, your soul, it’s all there, baby. All inside you.

The third year, I did the final piece in the show before the finale spotlight a monologue, about childbirth, called I WAS THERE IN THE ROOM.  It is an almost too-easy complete show-stopper, tear jerker, but I got to say “blood and puss and shit”, too. So it was pretty damn keen.  I had the chance to see the audience laugh and cry *with* me that year. And let me tell you, the experience made me…high as a kite.

So there’s a million obvious reasons to advocate and share my experiences about this show. Its successful good intentions are well-documented and clear to all. But that’s not all I wanted to write about here. I want to explain a more subtle, but I think, even more powerful, effect of this show….