Wednesday, December 27, 2006

Number Thirty

“Written on the Body” by Jeanette Winterson.

“It’s a simple story; love found, love lost, love found again - maybe. The unnamed narrator falls for a married woman called Louise. Louise leaves her husband but when she finds she has cancer, she leaves her new lover too. Written on the Body is a journey of self-discovery made through the metaphors of desire and disease.”-- Jeanette Winterson.

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Excerpt:

The interesting thing about a knot is its formal complexity. Even the simplest pedigree knot, the trefoil, with its three roughly symmetrical lobes, has mathematical as well as artistic beauty. For the religious, King Solomon’s knot is said to embody the essence of all knowledge. For carpet makers and cloth weavers all over the world, the challenge of the knot lies in the rules of its surprises. Knots can change but they must be well-behaved. An informal knot is a messy knot.

Louise and I were held by a single loop of love. The cord passing round our bodies had no sharp twists or sinister turns. Our wrists were not tied and there was no noose about our necks. In Italy in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries a favourite sport was to fasten two fighters together with a strong rope and let them beat each other to death. Often it was death because the loser couldn’t back off and the victor rarely spared him. The victor kept the rope and tied a knot in it. He had only to swing it through the streets to terrify money from passers-by.

I don’t want to be your sport nor you to be mine. I don’t want to punch you for the pleasure of it, tangling the clear lines that bind us, forcing you to your knees, dragging you up again. The public face of a life in chaos. I want the hoop around our hearts to be a guide not a terror. I don’t want to pull you tighter than you can bear. I don’t want the lines to slacken either, the thread paying out over the side, enough rope to hang ourselves.

I was sitting in the library writing this to Louise, looking at a facsimile of an illuminated manuscript, the first letter a huge L. The L woven into shapes of birds and angels that slid between the pen lines. The letter was a maze. On the outside, at the top of the L, stood a pilgrim in hat and habit. At the heart of the letter, which had been formed to make a rectangle out of the double of itself, was the Lamb of God. How would the pilgrim try through the maze, the maze so simple to angels and birds? I tried to fathom the path for a long time but I was caught at dead ends by beaming serpents. I gave up and shut the book, forgetting that the first word had been Love.

In the weeks that followed Louise and I were together as much as we could be. She was careful with Elgin, I was careful with both of them. The carefulness was wearing us out.

One night, after a seafood lasagne and a bottle of champagne we made love so vigorously that the Lady’s Occasional was driven across the floor by the turbine of our lust. We began by the window and ended by the door. It’s well-known that molluscs are aphrodisiac, Casanova ate his mussels raw before pleasuring a lady but then he also believed in the stimulating powers of hot chocolate.

Articulacy of fingers, the language of the deaf and dumb, signing on the body body longing. Who taught you to write in blood on my back? Who taught you to use your hands as branding irons? You have scored your name into my shoulders, referenced me with your mark. The pads of your fingers have become printing blocks, you tap a message on to my skin, tap meaning into my body. Your morse code interferes with my heart beat. I had a steady heart before I met you, I relied upon it, it had seen active service and grown strong. Now you alter its pace with your own rhythm, you play upon me, drumming me taut.

Written on the body is a secret code only visible in certain lights; the accumulations of a lifetime gather there. In places the palimpsest is so heavily worked that the letters feel like braille. I like to keep my body rolled up away from prying eyes. Never unfold too much, tell the whole story. I didn’t know that Louise would have reading hands. She has translated me into her own book.

We tried to be quiet for Elgin’s sake. He had arranged to be out but Louise thought he was at home. In silence and in darkness we loved each other and as I traced her bones with my palm I wondered what time would do to skin that was so new to me. Could I ever feel any less for this body? Why does ardour pass? Time that withers you will wither me. We will fall like ripe fruit and roll down the grass together. Dear friend, let me lie beside you watching the clouds until the earth covers us and we are gone.

Elgin was at breakfast the following morning. This was a shock. He was as pale as his shirt. Louise slid into her place at the foot of the long table. I took up a neutral position about half way. I buttered a slice of toast and bit. The noise vibrated the table. Elgin winced.

‘Do you have to make so much noise?’

‘Sorry Elgin,’ I said, spattering the cloth with crumbs.

Louise passed me the teapot and smiled.

‘What are you so happy about?’ said Elgin. ‘You didn’t get any sleep either.’

‘You told me you were away until today,’ said Louise quietly.

‘I came home. It’s my house. I paid for it.’

‘It’s our house and I told you we’d be here last night.’

‘I might as well have slept in a brothel.’

‘I thought that’s what you were doing,’ said Louise.

Elgin got up and threw his napkin on the table. ‘I’m exhausted but I’m going to work. Lives depend on my work and because of you I shall not be at my best today. You might think of yourself as a murderer.’

‘I might but I shan’t,’ said Louise.

We heard Elgin clatter his mountain bike out of the hall. Through the basement window I saw him strap on his pink helmet. He liked cycling, he thought it was good for his heart.

Louise was lost in thought. I drank two cups of tea, washed up and was thinking of going home when she put her arms around me from behind and rested her chin on my shoulder.

‘This isn’t working,’ she said. 

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“. . . .What you fuck is more important than how you write.  This may be because reading takes more effort than sex. . . .” --Jeanette Winterson

More. . . .

- by Tim Conley here

- a 1997 Salon interview “Rogue Element”

- Jeanette Winterson’s site

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Sincerely.
Eve and JW3 and Mélisande
Dirty Girl Things ©
Unrepentant.  Unpretentious.  Unconventional. ©

Number Twenty-Nine

Documento Sin Titulo...two places to find your dirty books for the New Year.

Olympia Press is renowned for it’s Ebook reproductions from that golden age of Parisian decadence and especially its’ Traveller’s Companion Series including “The Romance of Lust” (Volumes 1-4), “The World of Sex”, and “Sex Without Intercourse”. 

Salon featured Olympia Press in its article, “Lust in the Dust Jacket”, and paid it a heady compliment, “. . . .The Olympia Press has earned an honorable, demented place in literary history. It published some of the great books of the century when no one else would, and in the process helped smash down the last barriers of censorship. . . .”.

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The Erotic Book Shop has some interesting reading selections along with some toys & games.

Black Lace Book of Women’s Sexual Fantasies.  The Black Lace brand name is synonymous with quality erotica written by and for women. When the book was originally published in 1999 it was the first collection of British women’s fantasies to appear on the market.  The editor had unique access to the Black Lace readers’ most private opinions and spent a year and half interviewing and corresponding with the contributors.  The results are fascinating and clearly divided into themed sections dealing with the many-faceted nature of female sexuality. With thought-provoking analytical essays before each chapter, the reader can follow the history of modern sexual behaviour and see how popular culture and even fairy stories have influenced our erotic imaginations.

“The Society of Sin” was conceived on a hot and sticky summer’s evening inside a mansion house on a large country estate when, after an opium-fuelled night of passion, Lady P and her close friend Samantha Powerstock succumbed to desires they had both repressed for years. Now, a year later, they have invited a select few to join their exclusive association. But only genuine hedonists need apply; prospective members are interrogated over a sumptuous dinner then given an ‘assignment’ which they must fulfil. Failure to do so results in instant expulsion and the prospect of being ‘named and shamed’ in the exclusive circles they currently frequent. However, successful completion of the task opens for them a Pandora’s box of pain and pleasure.

Sincerely.
Eve and JW3 and Mélisande
Dirty Girl Things ©
Unrepentant.  Unpretentious.  Unconventional. ©

Monday, December 25, 2006

Number Twenty-Eight

Adam’s first wife.

The first true battle of the sexes, according to Jewish legend, happened when Adam was married to Lilith.  Lilith was Adam’s first wife, before Eve. 

“. . . . The Alphabet of Ben-Sira, written sometime between the 8th and 11th centuries. Lilith is described as refusing to assume a subservient role to Adam during sexual intercourse and so deserting him ("She said, ‘I will not lie below,’ and he said, ‘I will not lie beneath you, but only on top. For you are fit only to be in the bottom position, while I am to be the superior one.’"). Lilith promptly uttered the name of God, took to the air, and left the Garden, settling on the Red Sea coast. In this act, Lilith becomes unique in that she is not touched by Original Sin, having left the garden before Eve came into existence. Lilith also reveals herself to be powerful in her own right by knowing the name of God. . . .”

And that was officially the first divorce. 

Ps:  Hat tip to Camille.

Sincerely.
Eve and JW3 and Mélisande
Dirty Girl Things ©
Unrepentant.  Unpretentious.  Unconventional. ©

Number Twenty-Seven

Listen as three Independents shine.

This is an occasional feature focusing on musicians that will capture both your ear and your soul with their music and melodies.  And when you hear them, you’ll stop what you’re doing...and listen.

Secret Agent on SomaFM is featured on iTunes internet radio in the “Eclectic” category and is commercial-free and listener-supported, so feel free to send them some holiday cheer. 

Thievery Corporation

You’ve probably heard their songs...somewhere...commercials, an episode of the West Wing, a MTV promo, or even the movie “Garden State”.  But chances are that Thievery Corporation is probably one of the best kept secrets from Washington DC.  The instrumentals and beats in their music will keep your attention as they cross a spectrum of downtempo, electronica, jazz, Indian classical, and Brazilian beats all fused together.  “The Hong Kong Triad” & “Lebanese Blonde” (from The Mirror Conspiracy album) and “The Glass Bead Game” (from the Sounds from the Thievery Hi-Fi album) are definitive examples of that distinctive Thievery Corporation sound.  Check ‘em out.

TDR

One of Italy’s finest, The Dining Rooms, has a distinctive sound which blends jazz, electronica, and ambient.  Singles like “Invocation”, “Cosi Ti Amo”, & “Catania City Blues” (from the Numero Deux album) and “Prigionieri Del Deserto”, “La Citta Nuda”, “Astro Black”, & “You” (from the Tre album) will make you believe!

And…
Torso

Torso has some brilliant and sexy tunes.  “Acid Jazz with a Hip hop sense. Miles meets Fatboy Slim”—Broadjam.com, July 2005.  The Boston duo blends funky, cool jazz that goes from downbeat one moment to a 60 mph heartbeat the next and then finally, slowly rounds the curve on Lake Shore Drive on a warm Chicago summer afternoon.  “My Pretty Antidote” defines that unique Torso kind of cool in the way that Miles Davis did with the “Birth of the Cool”.  “My Pretty Antidote”, “Alpha Almighty”, “Sanjibel”, “Sky Train”, & “King Rabbit” (from the Percolatin’ with Lucifer album).  Take a listen to a complete listing of their tunes at Broadjam, the connection to independent music, by doing a search on the artist name. 

Sincerely.
Eve and JW3 and Mélisande
Dirty Girl Things ©
Unrepentant.  Unpretentious.  Unconventional. ©

Saturday, December 23, 2006

Number Twenty-Six

“The Internet Escort’s Handbook Book 1: The Foundation” by Amanda Brooks.

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What’s the dirtiest thing a girl can do?

Even in today’s society, the answer still is: openly enjoy sex. Even worse is a girl who decides to capitalize on her natural desires.  Yes, I mean that old profession.

But look beyond the mere physical.  Sex, in all its forms, is rarely contained in mere bodily reactions and sensations.  The fact that this site reviews music and photographs alongside sex toys is a testament that a well-rounded sexual woman is so much more than an object.  The number of self-help books created to guide people in solving their love life problems attest that sex is more than just the physical, as serious pleasure-seekers already know. 

If professional sex is only about connecting A with B, then no one would have questions and there would be no need for understanding one’s feelings.  But, above a certain level, it’s rarely just about sex. 

Confused?  Professional sex is about relationships. Yet confusion starts when money enters the picture. This societal confusion often causes needless agonizing for both the man and the woman involved in this very private equation.

Knowledge helps.  Some knowledge is fairly basic, such as the physical consequences of sex, like pregnancy and disease.  Other knowledge is completely individual, such as knowing one’s own personal boundaries.  Such wisdom is obtained only through personal thought and reflection. But how nice to have a head-start on what questions to ask!

The largest sex organ is the brain.  Good escorts sell the intangibles: their ability to massage, stimulate, and release the mind of their patron. In the end, what’s more valuable — mere physical release?  Or someone with the knowledge to pull and squeeze the emotions of sex from their partner? 

So what’s the smartest thing a dirty girl can do? Know what she’s doing.

“The Internet Escort’s Handbook Book 1: The Foundation” can be found here and Amanda’s musings on life can be found here on her blog, After Hours.

DGT Seal of Approval: Mom wholeheartedly endorses this book! Well okay, Amanda’s mom didn’t, but her sister did! And that’s good enough for us.

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Sincerely.
Eve and JW3 and Mélisande
Dirty Girl Things ©
Unrepentant.  Unpretentious.  Unconventional. ©

Friday, December 22, 2006

Number Twenty-Five

Soft Paris has a couple of new noteworthy items in time for the holidays.

Introducing The Cone for women.

Anne Lolotte has her review here (in French) and here (in English). 
Be sure to check out the cheeky commercial too.

There’s more about The Cone here and here.

And…

The Aneros for men (and the male G-spot...and possibly multiple orgasms).

Anne has an interview with the creator, Brian Mayfield, here (in French) and here (in English). 

There’s more about the Aneros here.

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Anne’s blog is here (in French) and here (in English).
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Sincerely.
Eve and JW3 and Mélisande
Dirty Girl Things ©
Unrepentant.  Unpretentious.  Unconventional. ©

Sunday, December 03, 2006

Number Twenty-Four

Erotic frescoes put Pompeii brothel on the tourist map
From Richard Owen in Rome, London Times online

A LUXURIOUS brothel that once entertained wealthy clients in Pompeii has been opened as a visitor attraction after painstaking restoration.

The two-storey structure, which features erotic frescoes that leave little to the imagination, is expected to become one of the ancient city’s top draws. Officials who unveiled it yesterday emphasised that the year-long restoration had been carried out in the interests of archaeology — and to save the frescoes — rather than prurience. The brothel was named the Lupanare — from lupa (she-wolf), the colloquial Latin term for a prostitute. Prices were posted outside the building, which had three entrances, and the frescoes depict the sexual services on offer.

The Lupanare boasted ten rooms, five on each floor, with the upper floor (which had a balcony) reserved for more important and wealthier clients. Sexual activity took place on stone beds, which would have been covered by mattresses.

Like other parts of pleasure-loving Pompeii, the brothel was overwhelmed by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius, which buried the city in a 6m (19½ft) layer of volcanish ash in AD79. The ash preserved the city as a time capsule until the 18th century, when the first excavations began to bring to light well- preserved houses, shops, frescoes and skeletons of people caught as they tried to flee.

Scholars say that Pompeii had many brothels, but most consisted only of a single room, often above a shop or wine bar. The prostitutes were slaves and were usually of Greek or Oriental origin. Pietro Giovanni Guzzo, superintendent of Pompeii, said that ancient Roman attitudes to sex and obscenity were more relaxed than those of later civilisations.

Erotic objects found during the 18th and 19th-century excavations were considered so salacious they were kept in a “secret cabinet” at the National Archeological Museum in Naples, to which only those deemed to be of “mature age and respected morals” were admitted. The objects include a statuette of the god Pan copulating with a goat, and numerous phallic symbols, considered by the Romans to be good luck or fertility charms.

The stone beds were placed in discreet alcoves. Scholars said that one prostitute, named Myrtis, had a sign outside her room explaining that her speciality was oral sex. Other girls working at the brothel — according to Roman-era graffiti on the walls — were Callidrome, Cressa, Drauca, Fabia, Faustilla, Felicia, Fortunata, Helpis, Mula, Nica, Restituta, Rusatia and Ianuaria.

Luciana Iacobelli, lecturer in Pompeiian antiquities at Bicocca University in Milan, said that not all the prostitutes were slaves. There was even some evidence that Roman women frequented brothels for sex with male prostitutes.

“Sex, like death, is always of consuming human interest and has been over the centuries,” she said.
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Sincerely.
Eve and JW3 and Mélisande
Dirty Girl Things ©
Unrepentant.  Unpretentious.  Unconventional. ©