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It’s 2019, When Will Sex Toys Deliver on Their High-Tech Promises?
January 8th, 2019
It’s 2019. We’ve reached the age of Back to the Future and Blade Runner. But if you take a look outside, it looks nothing like those dystopian movies have promised. And while we don’t know what the sex toys of the fictional future are supposed to look like, I can’t help but wonder if it would measure up. I know that I personally am a bit disappointed at how sex toys have failed to reach their potential by now.
Why?
I’m glad you asked.
Bluetooth Isn’t Body Compatible
As long as we rely on wireless technology that radiates through the air to connect devices, using them on and in our bodies is going to present a challenge. I’ve had Bluetooth toys that barely connected before I even inserted them let alone remaining connected while inside me, and I’m not holding my phone anywhere near 10 meters away from my vagina (the Bluetooth limit for most mobile devices). It’s enough to make me balk at the idea ever again, and yet, I find myself trying smart toys in hopes they won’t frustrate me.
And remote-controlled vibrators? They’re still ridiculously inconsistent. Every time some poor Redditor asks which remote-controlled vibe is the best because they’re too naive to realize that none of them deserves the title, I feel so bad for them. I shake my head and move along. Everyone has to make their own mistakes, learn their own lessons.
I Don’t Want to Use an App When I’m Fucking Myself — Or Anyone Else
I’ve said it before and I expect to have to reiterate: I don’t want to use an app with my vibrator. I don’t want my germ-covered phone in my lube-covered hand when I’m trying to get off. I don’t want to to have to unlock my phone when it becomes inactive because I was focusing on my clit.
But even if I wasn’t a germophobe, there are plenty of times when masturbating requires two hands. So how will I use the damn toy then?
God forbid the day when the only way you can use a vibrator is to with an app. The buttons will be removed, and I will have no use for the toy other than as a projectile.
Now, if anyone else wants to use an app-controlled toy on me, I might be inclined to let them… as long as the toy is functionally pleasurable. Of course…
Innovation Doesn’t Replace the Need for Quality Vibrations
Does a vibrator have a nice shape? Does it twist or bend into place? That’s great, but don’t forget about the main function: vibration. If a toy has barely-there vibrations or vibrations high-pitched enough that dogs would object (as would I!), there’s no reason for those innovative features. Because I’ll never use it.
Another high-priced paperweight? Sigh. If I must.
Imitation Might Be Flattery, But It’s Also Frustrating
Any time a sex toy manufacturer comes up with anything even remotely innovative, a slew of other companies follow suit, often with lower-priced or inferior products. I wouldn’t expect it any other way, and competition can certainly work for consumers. But when markets become flooded with all of these duplicates, I cannot help but wait for the ties to go back down to a point when I can see anything — anything — else when I log on to my favorite retailers or step into a sex toy store.
You know what I’m talking about. Dozens of companies copied Lelo’s early designs, including various toys for men, but even Lelo has resorted to duplicating the clitoral pulsation/suction toys that were all the rage last year.
Of course, I may sound ungrateful or hopelessly picky. I realize that there are people working incredibly hard behind the scenes, that innovation isn’t easy (otherwise, it would be much more commonplace), and that technology is tricky. Yet, I struggle to think of instances of technology or innovation that has won me over.
The most recent technological improvement in sex toys that I really enjoyed was Lelo’s oral sex simulator, and I may be in the minority there.
I know that smart toys will change the landscape of Kegel exercisers by providing valuable feedback, but I also know there’s still a lot of ground to cover. I’ve enjoyed pressure-responsive vibrators. Internal batteries have been revolutionary. Yet for every toy that provides pleasure, there are myriad underwhelming vibrators, glitching motors, defective models, and confusing designs to contend with.
When I try something that’s new and unusual, I always wind up saying something like
It’s different, but that’s certainly not a selling point in this case.
The novelty is interesting, but the followthrough is lacking. I wonder what I’ll do with a toy that fails to provide on the very premise that sold us all on it.
The bigger the promise, the harder the reality hits.
And that brings us back around to the reality of sex toy tech in 2019. It’s getting there, sure. I just wish it was moving faster than a snail’s pace.
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The Best and Worst Sex Toys (+Books) of 2018
December 31st, 2018
The Best
Cat-approved sex education
Unlike previous years, this list is filled mostly with books as I’ve reviewed more books than ever on my blog. I hope you’ve all enjoyed my book reviews. I’ve certainly
enjoyed reading most of them, especially the following.
- Just Lehmiller’s book Tell Me What You Want details the responses from over 4,000 Americans about their sexual fantasies. You’ll learn what’s common, why we might have some fantasies, how to talk about them, and when fantasies are best left unexplored.
- Becoming Cliterate is the book I want to recommend for anyone who owns or plays with a clitoris. It has the potential to flip a mediocre sex life on end and provides hands-on advice for the reader and their partner(s).
- Screamin O managed to surprise me with Scoop, a powerful little vibrator.
This vibrator allowed me to write a scathing review, at least
The Worst
Of course, not everything I tried was fantastic.
- This is a bit of a cheat because I didn’t write a similar post to wrap up 2017 (there simply weren’t enough contenders), but the Black Line Laya II was my biggest disappointment in years. I now have my hands on the updated Laya II, so expect a comparison review sometime next year.
- The Lovehoney Short Satin Robe was just boxy and cheap. I didn’t know something so simple could go so wrong.
- Oh my gaaawd, there was no denying that the GVibe 2 would wind up on my list. A toy claiming to do everything that pretty much did nothing. Please don’t waste your time. I beg of you.
- Despite positive reviews about toys in this line and the Mini Marvels Marvelous Massager itself, I cannot see myself ever picking up this painful, power-devoid vibrator again.
- Getting through Sex Outside the Lines was tedious. It was definitely my least favorite sexuality book of the year. The author continuously used hyphen-laden phrases that he seemed to pull out of thin air in a way that I am sure he thought made him look like an authority in the subject. Instead, it just made him look pretentious and out of touch.
Dishonorable Mentions?
I don’t normally do this, but there were a couple things that really stood out in a way that was confusing. First up?
- GBalls, which worked fine as a device and certainly better than Minna’s kGoal, which has earned my ire on a previous yearend wrapup. The only problem? The app. It needs another proofread. Similar items might be more worth your money simply because of the app experience.
- As I said in my review, the We-Vibe Wish has left me with conflicting feelings like no other toy before. The rumbly vibrations are so close to perfect yet just a smidge too weak to be a mindblowing toy. Not being able to adjust the vibration is almost torturous. Don’t judge me if I cry.
But this is just my opinion. I’d love to know if any of my readers agree or disagree. Got your own recommendations? Perhaps you want to warn us away from something? Sound off in the comments!
I’d also love to know what you’d like to see me review next year.
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We-Vibe Wish
December 30th, 2018
We-Vibe Wish
$129.99
from Tabutoys
Honestly?
I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so conflicted about a sex toy.
There have been toys that I wanted to love and didn’t.
But this? I don’t even know, you guys.
I didn’t expect to like it. But the thing is? I almost love it. It’s so close.
If We-Vibe’s Wish clitoral vibrator were a movie, it would be Batman Vs. Superman. It’s not universally liked, but I saw glimpses of genius that, if allowed to come to fruition, would have made it a masterpiece.
I feel strongly enough that I would fight you just to make sure you acknowledge that, yes, there are some amazing aspects to this creation.
But I know that it falls short, that the criticism makes sense. But this vibrator has touched me somewhere besides my clitoris. It has a hold on me that I cannot deny.
So let’s jump right on. The Wish is a bold blue external vibrator that looks something like an asymmetrical stone. It’s larger than you might think from photos alone (4 inches long and almost 3 wide), especially if you have no banana for comparison. While it curves, ostensibly to fit in your hand, it’s definitely a little too big to be described as palm-sized.
I find the larger size is easier on my fingers than, say, the Pebble or Lelo’s Lily or any of those actually-stone-sized vibrators.
It has variable height (more than an inch thick in most places) and width along with a tapered tip. It’s coated in a pillow of silicone that makes it soft to the touch and further eases strain on my fingers. But the rigid skeleton is ungiving. I can get the pressure I need without any pain.
During use, I find myself lifting the back end a bit to rub the tip quickly back-and-forth. The control button is on the “butt'” of the toy, an ideal location for thumb usage in my opinion. I don’t actually like when buttons are on top of toys because that’s where I push with my fingers for pressure.
When it comes to vibrations? I was impressed. They’re pleasantly rumbly and deep. They’re broad. This is thanks to the two motors. I am sure anyone who loves the Tango might be intrigued by the Wish because of this. More on that later.
We-Vibe even describes this vibrator as similar to a wand.
Except it’s not.
A wand usually has steady settings over which you have control. That is not the case with the Wish.
You get nice and warmed up, you’re having a good time, and then.. the vibrations change.
It’s no longer a steady vibration; it’s a pulsation.
You haven’t changed anything, however. It seems like the first three settings are steady vibrations, but then it switches up to a pulse randomly.
You can try to coerce an orgasm out if it’s not ruined by the changeup. But that may not always be possible. You may be back at square one because the vibrator randomly decided to change what it was doing.
Now, I know that my readers will want me to compare this with the Tango or Touch. The Tango offers much more pinpoint stimulation. The Wish has a better shape than the Touch for me (I bought one from Babeland in Seattle and regret trying it.. again). The vibrations of the Wish are significantly deeper and stronger than either of those due to the twin motors.
But there’s another potential issue with this as reported by Epiphora: the dual motors sometimes result in a glitch that may not be noticeable by everyone. The motors may stop vibrating in unison.
I say this because I didn’t necessarily notice in use. So I sat the toy on the sofa next to me as I wrote my review and..
What. the. actual. fuck.
After a few minutes, I heard/felt the vibrations become out of sync. The Wish becomes much louder. And then it started crackling?
This lasted only a brief moment before it goes back to normal. The glitch feels like an odd trill and, you know what? I kinda like it. But that crackling? That would be ridiculously alarming during use.
And the Wish isn’t that quiet, to begin with.
My experiences with the Wish thus far have been.. polarizing to say the least. The first time, I coerced out an orgasm after a surprisingly-long amount of time. I tossed the vibrator on my dresser in frustration.
The second time I used it could not have been more different. For whatever reason, that pulsation didn’t kick in right away. It happened only once as I was well on my way to getting off, and it didn’t happen again. I was able to cum easily a second time because it didn’t take long, and the toy stayed at steady vibrations the entire time.
Basically, there’s no way to know when the vibrations will start to pulse and if that will be a help or hindrance to your pleasure.
What are you thinking, We-Vibe? Why would you do this to us? What do we ever do to you to deserve this?!
The company tries to explain how this is a good thing by lauding their “PowerPulse” technology. Yet, I am not alone when I say that this is frustrating. And I seem to have had a better experience than many.
On top of the frustrating PowerPulse settings, the other settings just seem kind of useless.
Those first three settings just look frustrating, don’t they?
I’m also hesitant about the single button. If this only had the three PowerPulse settings, that wouldn’t be a huge deal. But with 10 settings, that’s a lot of button pushing. And the button on Wish isn’t exactly user-friendly.
I mean, it seems like it should be. It looks pronounced enough, all right. But it’s actually stiffer than it appears and you have to press it in exactly the right location to get it to work.
I found myself surprised to be fumbling over this button. I can usually call which buttons will be problematic. I did not expect this one to be.
You may also want to know that to actually turn the toy off, you need to cycle through all of the settings. Otherwise, holding it for two seconds pauses it on the last-used setting. It’s more like pause than turning it off. This might be useful if the toy didn’t blink while it was de-activated.
I don’t want to use up battery for a useless light, and blinking lights in my home annoy the shit out of me.
And, okay, it works with the app. Not that you need an app if your sex toy only has one mode I’ll ever use, and it’s a disappointment at that.
I think all my readers know that I don’t want to mess around with that, though. When I’m masturbating, I want a hand on myself, my partner, my toy — not my phone. The very idea grosses me out, to be honest. One of those things is a breeding ground for germs.
So I didn’t even try it.
Yes, this vibrator is waterproof. But I have to like a toy to want to bring it into the shower or bath with me. And you need fairly strong vibrations to overpower the sensation of the water.
I… just.. ugh.
So what do I want from We-Vibe? I pretty much want a Wish II that’s nearly identical save for replacing the PowerPulse with steady vibration. Maybe simply let the user activate PowerPulse with the button should they choose to. Fun Factory has some toys with a dedicated boost button, and I don’t see why this wouldn’t work here. Perhaps add steady vibration (I’d be okay with a single mode as long as it were the highest strength) to the list of modes.
But if We-Vibe added any settings, they should add a second button to make it easier to cycle through them.
I have to tell you, though, if We-Vibe released the Wish with a few settings that I actually want, I’d be okay with the finicky button. I’d power through it, and that toy might become my new favorite because I absolutely love the strength and depth of the vibrations, the large size for a clitoral toy, the tapered tip, and curved shape, and the plush silicone that surrounds the toy.
It should be clear by now that I am torn over the Wish. Will I keep it and use it? Yes. I expect I’ll have many orgasms with it, and plenty will be fantastic.
But there’s a reason so many sentences, including this one, start with a “but.” It’s inconsistent. I also expect I will have some frustrating masturbation sessions, perhaps some ruined or miserable orgasms.
I’m basically describing an abusive relationship with a sex toy, and no one wants that.
My please to We-Vibe is this: you know what I want. Now give me the option to give you money for it. Please?
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December 2018 Media Recommendations
December 29th, 2018
By the time you see this, most of the December holidays will have passed. I hope that you enjoyed them, along with time with your loved ones. At the very least, I hope people have time free time, which you could perhaps use to enjoy some of the recommendations below.
Watch
- I came across Gurit E. Birnbaum’s recent TED Talk because she posted a transcript on Psychology Today. In her video, she discusses the myriad reasons humans recognize for having sex that go well beyond procreation.
- “A dummy’s guide to how the world regulates sex work in three minutes” is exactly what the title suggests. It’s not a deep dive, but it might encourage you to look into how sex workers operate in some locations.
- I’ve been rewatching The L Word. I suspect many of my readers have enjoyed this, but it’s interesting to watch it in 2018 and with a more critical eye to see some of the negatives in the show. I don’t recall hating Jenny nearly this much the first time around, but I also don’t think I finished the series. So many events seem to be occurring for the first time for me.
- Also, while non-related, Travelers (Netflix) and Marvel’s Runaways (Hulu) have returned with new seasons, and I’ve been enjoying both of them a lot.
Listen
This was such a great month for podcasts. I’ve been trying to branch out from the ones that I listen to the most and, as such, tend to frequently recommend. There have been more misses than hits, but the strong episodes really stuck with me.
- This first recommendation isn’t a new release, but it’s definitely worth listening to (and there’s also a full transcript if you prefer to read). This American Life’s episode on the 81 words about homosexuality in the DSM, the book that defines mental disorders, tell how being gay went from being pathologized to generally being accepted after the entry was finally edited. There’s some information about the gay professionals who helped make this happen that I especially appreciated.
- I started listening to Let’s Do It with Alex and Liz just this week. I’ve only listened to two episodes, but the very first one I had a chance to listen to blew me away. The hosts invited Teddy Cook, a health promotion specialist who attended the AIDS2018 conference in Amsterdam this year and reported on the latest research into HIV and AIDS. There’s been good news, some of which I’ve shared on social media; although, there are some frustrating trends.
- This week, Science VS looked into the “science of being transgender.” Like many of us already know, it’s complicated. This episode explains some of the basics as well as the more complex interplay between hormones, our brains, genitals, and gender identity in an easy-to-digest format. The results might frustrate some transphobes but, hey, it’s science.
- Another new podcast that I checked out is Two Married Sluts. Hosts Tristan and Bowie recently discussed taking a break from polyamory in the interest of self-care. I suspect some of my readers will find this useful. Even if you’re not poly, the advice rings true for other situations and types of relationships. It also ends with some sexy recaps.
I’ve been focusing on finishing up book’s I’d previously started as well as catching up on those for review, so there are no new reading recommendations this month. However, I’ll soon be starting some new reading material, so you can expect some next month.. if they’re any good.
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Science of Sex: Finger Length and Sexual Orientation (The 2D:4D Ratio)
December 22nd, 2018
More than fifteen years ago, when I was still in high school, I had heard there was something about your hand shape that could be linked to being gay. I’d heard this repeated throughout the years but always in a way that indicated it was an urban legend, simply a myth. Why did I think this way? Because no one discussed the science; they just held up their hands and explained this fact.
This month’s Science of Sex explains the theories about why hand shape and, specifically, finger length correlates with gay orientations. I hope you enjoy learning a little more about physical and sexual development if you, too, had heard about this phenomenon before and had wondered whether it was true or how.
Researcher Jonathon Manning was the first to notice a correlation between finger length and homosexuality in men. He wrote about how men having a ring finger that’s longer than an index finger (rather than the index finger being longer or both fingers being the same length) can be an indicator of sexual orientation. This high ratio (greater than 1), known as the 2D:4D ratio, is typically more common in women than in men.
But there are a few caveats.
First, we’re talking about the right hand specifically. Secondly, measurements should be taken from the crease to best compare overall finger length. Third, to reiterate, the high ratio is already prevalent in women, so this measurement applies less to them (although, you’ll discover that it does highlight some interesting traits).
This doesn’t mean that you should assume you’re gay if your ring finger is longer, but it might be an indication of biology at play if you don’t identify as straight.
Why does this happen? Researchers know that hormones such as testosterone and estrogen affect our development in the womb. A longer ring finger is connected to the influence of testosterone (a type of androgen) in utero. A lower ratio, which is typical of straight men, corresponds to greater testosterone influence in the womb. The interplay between testosterone and estrogen during this stage is also important.
You might remember that testosterone which encourages skeletal growth. This is why men tend to be taller and have defined Adam’s apples; testosterone spurts during puberty cause this. But finger length is visible at birth, unlike changes that don’t occur until puberty.
Finger length is just one thing that can be affected by hormones in utero. Research suggests, that on average, a gay man’s brain is a bit more feminized than a straight man’s, and that a gay woman’s brain tend to be a bit more masculinized. Of course, there is great variety not just between the sexes but in a single sex, so it is not accurate to say that a game man has the brain of a straight woman. You have to consider the spectrum.
However, there are other ways in which gay men and women are more similar to straight women and men, respectively. Gay men and straight women tend to do better when it comes to verbal measures, and gay men are also more similar to women when it comes to being dependent on landmarks, not direction, when navigation or providing directions. Young gay boys even gravitate toward individual sports rather than team sports.
Higher exam scores, increased neuroticism, better visual recall (in women), and improved literacy also correlates with a greater testosterone influence in utero. There are also some risks from increased testosterone exposure, including an increased risk of prostate cancer as well as lower sperm count, increased risk of heart disease and obesity (in men), and increased risk of mental health conditions such as anxiety, depression, alcohol dependence, and bulimia.
Many of these differences exist even in children; although, some people wonder whether children who are more ‘sex typical’ who later identify as gay may trace their sexual roots more to childhood events than fetal development.
The potential differences and risks I’ve listed above occur to a high 2D:4D ratio. But it’s not just the high ratio that matters. Bisexual men, for instance, have a lower ratio than gay men. Lesbians also tend to have a lower digit ratio, indicating a decreased preference for a masculinized partner, than straight women. However, a high ratio in women correlates to identifying as femme rather than butch.
Amazingly, scientists have been able to study women who were identical twins where one was gay, and the other was not. The differences persist.
A low digit ratio even corresponds with an interest in polygamy.
This research indicates not just the biological differences between gay, straight and bisexual people, but also the significant impact of hormones during our fetal development. The more I read about this, the more I realize that a ton of research supports these theories.
However, I would love to see more research on bisexual men and women specifically — not just because I am one.
Additional Reading
- Sexuality: Your Telltale Fingertips
- Hand pattern indicates prostate cancer risk
- Why Is the Penis Shaped Like That? And Other Reflections on Being Human
- Digital ratio: correlation with traits
- Stay or stray? Evidence for alternative mating strategy phenotypes in both men and women
- The ratio of 2nd to 4th digit length: a predictor of sperm numbers and concentrations of testosterone, luteinizing hormone and oestrogen.
- The 2nd–4th digit ratio (2D:4D) and neck circumference: implications for risk factors in coronary heart disease
- Second to fourth digit ratio and male ability in sport: implications for sexual selection in humans
- Second to fourth digit ratio and the ‘big five’ personality factors
- Picture recall skills correlate with 2D:4D ratio in women but not men
- Finger Length Ratios of Identical Twins with Discordant Sexual Orientations
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Buzz: The Stimulating History of the Sex Toy
December 20th, 2018
Buzz: The Stimulating History of the Sex Toy
$12.99 (Kindle)
from Amazon
Buzz: The Stimulating History of the Sex Toy starts with an introduction to home sex toy parties and the author’s own history as a salesperson. We learn firsthand how she was taught to push toys to bored housewives despite the very act being illegal in so many places. In her introduction, Hallie explains to the reader how she always had an interest in sex toys. And while she could no longer support companies that mislead their customers, her curiosity continued — enough to write the history of sex toys.
She continues on with the ancient history of sex toys (there are some photos of ancient devices and early sex toy ads included), which may be older than you think, and continues to bust some oft-touted stories about sex toys. Pop culture doesn’t always get it right, and our author wants us to know better.
In Buzz, the reader learns about the competing factions that helped to legitimize or, at least, make saleable sex toys. This includes seedy porn store operators, dedicated toy makers, feminists (both those for and against sex toys, especially dildos), mom-and-pop shops, and mega-corporations. Lieberman attempts to illustrate these forces while clearing supporting/promoting the feminist-run stores, a point-of-view I also agree with.
As readers, we learn about original stores such as The Pleasure Chest and Eve’s Garden. We discover the history of Good Vibes, Babeland, and masturbation month and feminists such as Joani Blank, Betty Dodson, Claire Cavanah, Del Williams, Susie Bright, and more who fought for sex toys and a woman’s sexual autonomy. Buzz discusses how seedy businessmen will always be businessmen, even while paying million-dollar fines and sitting in jail. The reader also has a chance to learn how far back the practice of using sex toys goes and how able-bodied people were able to experience sex toys due in part to their marketing as devices for people who were disabled.
Two other opposing forces that the author does a great job at depicting is how sex does indeed sell and how the American public and government railed against sex toys for so long. Lieberman lists case after historical case against sex toys. It’s amazing that any of the smaller stores or chains managed to stay in business while they were fighting the law and competing with unscrupulous competitors.
However, by trying to tackle every angle in Buzz, Lieberman has produced a book that is sometimes confusing and frazzled. These opposing forces are working simultaneously but the retelling is not quite as skillful as I would have liked.
For example, the author illustrates how important sex toys were as a way for women to revolt and yet how divisive toys were among feminists. Lieberman also dedicates time to discussing Friedan and Dodson, and while these women influence feminism and female sexuality greatly, this section seems to veer away from the topic (less time may have been spent on the biggest online retailer: Adam & Eve). Yet, we’re thrust back into it (no pun intended) with force when she introduces Ron Sturman, the founder of Doc Johnson and owner of numerous sex toy stores and distribution centers.
A large chunk of Buzz is dedicated to Doc Johnson, Sturman, his many business associates (including Ron Braverman) and the sordid history involved. It’s fascinating (and I have no idea how I didn’t come across more of this information/history before) but, at times, this book seems more like a history of that drama than an overall history of sex toys. Although the author does frame each chapter with a message about the progression of sex toys through the eras, it’s easy to forget that Buzz is not a book about Doc Johnson specifically; although, I suspect there’s enough history there that one could be written.
While Lieberman spends so much time on the Sturman era, much less time is dedicated to changes in sex toy culture in the 1990s and beyond. I suppose it may be too soon to write about the more recent drama, which I’ve experienced as a sex toy reviewer in the last decade, but it seems remiss for the author not to mention that Good Vibes bought out Babeland while referencing other sex toy news from 2017.
The author may have simply published this book too soon to mention smart sex toys and other advancements in sex tech, but there have been a lot of changes over the last few years that I would love to see chronicled. I suppose that will have to wait until the sequel.
Toward the end, Hallie writes perhaps the most forgiving description of Fifty Shades that I’ve ever heard while quickly (phew!) following it up with a warning that the sex toys used within those pages and sold and merchandise are acceptable because they still focus on sex toys as devices for couples to use and a woman’s sexuality as under the control of a man. The reader is reminded that all the progress we’ve made as a sexual society is impeded still.
Ms. Lieberman ends her book with a reminder that sex toys are important and not shameful, that we should not still feel ashamed about using or selling them, and they she personally will not be shamed. It’s a strong ending after a somewhat shaky middle.
Lieberman’s voice is the strongest and possesses the most clarity when she’s making those impassioned pleas. And I would have been thrilled to read a manifesto by Lieberman that lauded significance of sex toys when it comes to a woman’s autonomy and independence while highlighting the ways that sex toys remain unaccepted and in some jurisdictions illegal.
But Buzz is not that book. The strengths of Lieberman’s voice become lost in the making of this historical tome. Lieberman is not a bad writer, she simply attempted to write the wrong type of book. As a writer myself, I empathize. I, too, I’ve tried my hand at types of writing only to realize that they were not my forte. So while I look forward to what she might write in the future. I am not sure that Buzz is the strongest example of her talent.
With that said, I would recommend this book if you’re interested in the sordid history of Doc Johnson, the way that feminist leaders such as Dodson helped politicize sex toys, and the antics of at-home sexually parties. I plan on reading a similar book titled Vibrator Nation and posting my review of that here to compare with Buzz. Perhaps that book will garner my recommendation, but until now, I’m glad that I did read this book.
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A Lover’s Pinch: A Cultural History of Sadomasochism
December 15th, 2018
A Lover's Pinch: A Cultural History of Sadomasochism
%18.70 (Kindle)
from Amazon
Although there are many books about S&M, most of them focus on the erotic or instructional. This isn’t the case with A Lover’s Pinch: A Cultural History of Sadomasochism, a book by kinkster Peter Tupper. This means that A Lover’s Pinch fills a void, and it dives to depths I couldn’t have imagined before I started reading.
A Lover’s Pinch is a deep dive that goes far beyond Leopold von Sacher-Masoch the Marquis de Sade. Admittedly, I wasn’t expected to read analyses of how religion, war, and slavery impacted our sexualities (and relevant imagery is included on some pages), but the author of this book is not afraid to broach those subjects.
I wouldn’t say that tricky subjects aren’t handled with care within these pages or that it’s un-PC, but the tone is sometimes decidedly frank. If you’re especially religious or still experience trauma from war or slavery, then A Lover’s Pinch might not be a book you wish to pick up (or you may wish to skip those specific chapters).
With this in mind, the book starts with a strong historical tone. The author touche on worldwide (sometimes longstanding) stereotypes of sex and power including the Orient as well as Nazis (and the strange, erotic movies inspired by them). It’s, thorough and interesting to learn but definitely dry and perhaps not applicable to modern kinksters.
I found that A Lover’s Pinch really picked up as Tupper dove into Victorian England’s relationship with sex, one that is similar to that in modern America: both obsessed and prudish. As he analyzes the (not-so) secret kink in this era, describes the lives of specific individuals and introduces the reader to publications that deal with S&M, you really get a feel for how long we’ve been into power exchange in our sex (and lives). Of course, these ongoings are generally fragmented, and there isn’t much to speak of in terms of community.
The reader watches the community come and build together in the 20th century, and this is where I think Tupper does the best at describing how things really were. Yes, some men returned from war, donned leather vests, and continued to live within the structure they’d grown to know in the service by practicing S&M with other men. But the author describes how, for some, the leather community was not one that was sexual.
As the book — and time — progresses, we learn how the kink community overlaps with the gay community and how, slowly but surely, gay women and, eventually, straight people join the S&M community. Tupper discusses some of the better-known groups from across the country and world, including DC’s Black Rose, Janus, and the many gay and lesbian communities that supported — and sometimes opposed — such activities.
I was especially struck by the way that the book describes how some feminists railed against S&M as something that was misogynistic. I learned of similar opposition from feminists to sex toys, especially dildos when I read Buzz.
Tupper’s analysis of gay, lesbian, and straight S&M is important, and he impresses upon the reader how these communities are still separated in ways — and even the division within the leather/gay S&M communities due to an entire generation succumbing to AIDS. If there is a more overarching theme of A Lover’s Pinch, I don’t know what it is. While many people are into S&M, and there are groups in many major cities, it’s still as fragmented as the Android market.
Still, S&M has followed a similar trajectory as homosexuality, first ignored and denied, then pathologized and illegalized, next slowly decriminalized, increasingly understand, and, to some extent, accepted. Tupper skillfully draws the parallel.
It was interesting to see the progression from haphazardly-created communities and risky scenes to planned organizations (and to learn the origin of munches) to the adoption of the “Safe, Sane, Consensual” creed, which was never intended to guide an entire sexual subculture. In some ways, BDSM became commodified alongside these other cultural shifts.
My favorite chapter in this book may have been that on “Alt.sex”. Although I am too young to have used Usenet, I remember the days of HTML-based chatrooms, which may have been my own introduction to BDSM. Tupper discusses the usefulness (and lack thereof) of capitalization conventions and how S&M relationships have existed solely in the online realm. He touches on Gor communities and online roleplaying. I remember many of these things fondly, and while they’re in relatively recent past when it comes to the overall history of S&M (as this book does a good job at pointing out), my own memories from 15-20 years ago seem so long ago.
As the book wraps up, Tupper reveals his own interest in S&M and coming out, and how coming out is different for kinksters than those in the LGBTQIA+ community, especially when it comes to the still-existing ramifications for those who might like their sex on the kinky side. Tupper discusses specific cases as recent as 2001 in which S&M interests left people ostracized and unable to find employment. And this is all despite the strides society has made to accept those who practice consensual S&M.
Finally, the author makes the case that S&M has both expanded sex and brought the idea of consent to the forefront in sexual and nonsexual interactions. He makes a nod to Fifty Shades while arguing that thanks to its popularity, BDSM is more visible than ever but still not part of the mainstream because the story wraps mild kink in a package of acceptable hetero romance. In comparison to this and other pop culture representations, BDSM can much more extreme, and mainstream portrayals still struggle to get it right.
On the other hand, Peter Tupper has worked hard to “get it right” in A Lover’s Pinch. His hard work is noticeable. It’s easy to appreciate the research that went into making this history of sadomasochism.
