Tuesday, April 29, 2025

A Lily Among the Thorns by Miguel De La Torre

Source of book: Borrowed from the library

 

I first discovered Miguel De La Torre while researching one of my Patriarchy posts several years ago. Among other things, his excellent interpretation of the Parable of the Workers caught my eye - it matched what my dad explained to me as a child, before he went all right wing. 

 

In any case, I decided to put this book on my reading list. 

 

I can’t even really remember when it was that I realized that the Evangelical teachings on human sexuality were, to put it bluntly, horseshit on a stick. It was likely a gradual process, starting from when I hit puberty at the latest. 

 

There are several factors, but I think all of them can be summarized by “I payed attention to actual evidence, not dogma.” Which is, come to think of it, a significant factor in my deconstruction generally. 

 

First of all, I read through the Bible in its entirety - which is a HELL OF A DANGEROUS THING TO DO. You can never again look at the Bible the same way after you read it with an open mind, rather than as a proof-text for the dogma you already believe. 

 

First of all, most of what Evangelicals teach about sexuality is not actually in the Bible at all. And it certainly does not match what the Bible actually does say about it. For example, Evangelicals are pretty strongly against polygyny, despite the fact that the Bible not only never forbids it, it assumes it as the norm, regulates it, and approves those who practice it. 

 

Likewise, the Bible takes for granted that women are the chattel of men, to be bought, sold, and raped pretty much at will. It’s right there in the Ten Commandments, where males are commanded not to covet other males’ property - slaves, donkeys, and women. 

 

And then, despite this being glossed over in theology and even in translation, men were permitted to take and own sex slaves, which they were free to rape whenever they wanted. 

 

In addition, other than not fucking the property of other men, committing certain kinds of incest, and not fucking another man as if he were a mere woman, male sexuality was pretty unregulated. 

 

So, it was pretty obvious after reading the Bible through the first time that its teachings on human sexuality were so rooted in the treatment of women as chattel that it both permitted and even encouraged things we now recognize as morally evil: rape, sex slaves, treatment of women as property - but it also failed to forbid most of what Evangelicals claim males should not do. 

 

I highly recommend Unprotected Texts by Jennifer Knust for a scholarly look at what the Bible actually says about sex - which is not what Evangelicals teach. 

In contrast to that book, A Lily Among Thorns seeks to develop a truly Christ-like theology of sexuality and the body, one based on loving our neighbor, rather than one based on the ownership of female bodies. 

 

To do that, De La Torre examines the biblical text, but also the history of Christian teachings. And, most importantly, he looks at how both of these are so rooted in evil beliefs about the nature of women, the nature of the human body, and the human hierarchies that benefit wealthy males at the expense of everyone else. 

 

In other words, he reads it and develops his theology based on the perspective of those who have been damaged and oppressed by our teachings on sexuality. 

 

***


 

Let me say at the outset that there are a few things I disagree with the author on - I will mention them - but overall, I think this is the best exploration of how a Christ-follower can and should view the human body and its sexuality that I have read. 

 

Perhaps even more to the point, I can say with confidence that if you find a man (or a woman, but especially a man) who fully embraces De La Torre’s view as expressed in this book, you will find a person who is good, thoughtful, and most notably, safe to be in a relationship with. 

 

The disagreements I have with him are minor, specific, and do not at all reflect moral issues. De La Torre proposes an entirely decent, loving, and mutual approach to sexuality, and our world would be a far better place if more people - and particularly more men thought this way. 

 

I mention men a lot here, because we live in a society that is still fairly patriarchal. And Evangelical doctrine is very patriarchal. Because society and the church are literally set up to privilege wealthy white males, most of the danger and destruction comes from those with power, not those abused by it. Fixing men will do far more to fix the problems of sexuality than fixing women. 

 

I will work through the book a bit at a time using quotes. I took a lot of notes, so this will be a long post, with a lot of information. That said, I do encourage you to buy the book. It is such a great resource for healthy sexuality - and I really wish I had read it when I was a teen. 

 

I also should mention here that this book is more about the theological side - although it is very practical too. I read Forever… by Judy Blume concurrently with this one, so I discuss the practical side of sexuality, and how I realized that my experiences didn’t fit with Evangelical theology in that post. I also talk about this in my recent review of Intercourse by Andrea Dworkin

 

***

 

As I dive into the book itself, I also want to note that one of the things I have appreciated the most about the book is that it examines the problem of our view of human bodies in general. It is often overlooked just how influential the Gnostics (and their progenitors, the Stoics) have been in Christian theology starting with Augustine and Jerome. Their view of the spirit as good and the body as bad permeates Christian thought, unfortunately, which has made sex into something dirty, to be tolerated as necessary for reproduction, but not a beautiful good in and of itself. 

 

Let’s start with the preface, which, interestingly, recounts the doomed reelection campaign of Silvio Berlusconi - in which he promised to be sexually abstinent for two and a half months before the election. Which somehow made him a “family values” hero. Which, wut? De La Torre explains. 

 

Why is sexual abstinence linked to family values? The prevalent ascetic tradition within Christianity has taught us to associate sexual abstinence with purity and holiness. Many Christians, believing that there is a moral degradation of our society and that it is the result of excessive sexual promiscuity, recoil at the concept of sacred sexuality or the possibility of an ethics based on sex. These Christians see sexual desire as both powerful and dangerous. 

 

Any of us who grew up Evangelical know just how much time and effort and pearl clutching went into impressing on us that we were not to have sex until we were properly stuck in a marriage. This came not only from our parents, but from the entire church-industrial complex. Far more was said about sex and not having it than on any other moral concern. 

 

The author goes on to note that sexual desire is seen as inherently dangerous, and that harsh laws are increasingly considered necessary to address it. (See: Project 2025…) 

 

He also notes the paradox that our often Puritanical society is also based on the use of sex to sell things. They are, he notes, the flip sides of the same coin. 

 

In this book I will search the Christian Scripture, in spite of their patriarchal tendencies, to find biblically based guidelines and principles for developing an ethical sexual lifestyle that is aware of how sexism, homophobia, and even racism and classism have influenced past and current conversations on sexual ethics. 

 

As he says, he will eschew both conservative and liberal views in favor of a liberative reading. 

 

To use a liberative methodology means to explore sexual ethics by (1) listening to the stories of those voices that are usually ignored, the voices of those abused by the prevailing sexual norms; (2) paying close attention to who benefits, either through power or privilege, from the present normative sexual practices of society; and (3) challenging sexual norms that prevent individuals from living the abundant life promised to them by Christ. 

I believe that social injustices pervert human relationships and distort any definition or concept of love. 

 

If you think that sounds a bit like Andrea Dworkin…you would be right. They have different concepts of how to address patriarchy and oppression, but they see the same issues at play. 

 

Although Moses, the prophets, Jesus, and Paul did not make sexuality the focal point of their teachings, issues involving sexuality are currently tearing apart Christian denominations and individual churches. Believers are no longer divided over issues of doctrine, but rather over issues concerning sex…Few sitting in the pews properly know their denomination’s Christological doctrines, but they do know where their church stands on premarital sex, homosexuality, and ordination of women. 

 

And this:

 

Sidetracked by these divisive issues and afraid to tackle the topic of sexual ethics head-on, Christians have failed to seriously and openly discuss sexuality as an integral part of our humanity. Quite simply, they run the risk of making their perspective on the topic irrelevant. 

 

So what is the issue here, and how can we do better?

 

The church’s traditionally negative attitudes toward sex in general - and, by extension, toward women, people of color, and gays in particular - have made it difficult, if not impossible, to create biblically based and just sexual ethics. But when the biblical text is read from the viewpoint of the marginalized in society, specifically those who are normally oppressed due to their gender or sexual orientation, preconceived notions about Christianity and sex get turned on their heads. Reading from these margins of power forces the reader to move beyond a biblical interpretation that merely reflects their own opinions about sexuality. To read from the margins provides a liberating approach to dealing with issues of sexuality. 

 

De La Torre also addresses the myth of “objectivity.” There is no such thing. We are all subjective, and we need to admit that and acknowledge what that means for our views. 

 

I maintain that there is no such thing as objectivity. All ethical reflections are subjective. Only the subjective ethical reflections of those within the dominant culture are labeled objective. The approach employed in this book challenges the assumption that ethics - in this case - sexual ethics - can be understood apart from what the interpreter brings to the analysis. 

 

The preface is followed by an introduction. (Maybe they should have just been the first two chapters?) I definitely want to quote a few lines from the introduction, though, because I think they are very much on point not only for a discussion of sexuality, but indeed for any discussion of theology and ethics. 

 

Any discourse on Christian sexual ethics is also a debate over biblical revelation and inspiration; specifically, how scriptural interpretations are formulated and used. Although there are many theories, the basic question is whether the Bible consists of God’s actual words as dictated to human secretaries or the testimony of believers who witnessed God’s movement in their specific place and time. If the latter is true, could God’s revelation be misconstrued due to the prevalent existing social structures of the time - social structures that accepted polygamy, genocide, or slavery without qualms? The question we must wrestle with is whether the Bible itself supports patriarchy, or rather that the authors of the text, as members of an unquestioning male-centered social order, simply presumed their own gender-based social structures as normative?

Those with a sense of how the Bible has historically been used to foster oppressive structures voice concern about returning to some romanticized pristine illusion of biblical times. 

 

Yes! I am firmly in the second camp - actually reading the Bible with an open mind destroyed any belief I had in a literal dictation. And unfortunately, the Bible has indeed been used throughout history to justify slavery, genocide, and the mistreatment of women. 

 

Though we do not want to admit it, we all read biblical texts selectively. All of us come to the Bible with a specific life story and read our personal biases into the text. Our social location influences how we interpret Scripture, and the biblical interpretations we construct - which usually justify lifestyles beneficial to us - can contradict the very essence of the Gospel message. As we all know, the Bible has historically been used to justify atrocities like genocide, slavery, war, crusades, colonialism, economic plunder, and, of course, gender oppression. Bible verses have been quoted, sermons preached from pulpits, and theses written in theological academies to justify barbaric acts in the name of Jesus. 

 

And none of us are exempt from this risk in our own time:

 

Those who read the Bible from the position of authority must guard against misinterpreting scripture, consciously or unconsciously, as a way to protect their power and privilege. Passages that foster either sexism or partriarchy must be reinterpreted from the perspective of those marginalized by the text, or rejected in the same way we Christians today reject passages that foster genocide. 

 

I love De La Torre’s central interpretive lens.

 

The mission and purpose of Christ’s coming was to abundantly provide life, both temporal and eternal. It is through this lens, rather than the lens of patriarchy so often used, that we must read and interpret the entire biblical text. In short, if a biblical interpretation prevents life from being lived abundantly by a segment of the population - or worse, if it brings death - then it is anti-Gospel. When a reading of the Bible relegates women to second-class status, reducing them from persons to sexual objects, then such interpretations cease to be biblically based. 

 

It is with this in mind that De La Torre begins the main part of the book with “Liberating the Female Body.” I probably should give a content warning here: the history of male misogyny among church fathers is brutal. I mean, absolutely sickening. 

 

It is here as well that De La Torre expresses his core belief about good sexuality: it is intimately connected to familial relationships. Sex is to be in the context of people who love each other as equals and commit to mutual care. This doesn’t necessarily mean marriage per se; likewise, marriage is not nearly enough to make a familial relationship. My own experience with terrible marriages, both professionally and personally, bears this out. And patriarchy is a main cause of terrible marriages within church and society.  

 

Reading the scriptures through the lens of patriarchy has been used to justify advocating the male superiority as God ordained it. However, when we realize that these structures are a consequence of sin and not the order of things as ordained by God (as discussed in the introduction), we can see that the ideal relationship is far from what has historically been perceived as God-sanctioned. Patriarchal structures prevent familial relationships - relationships based on mutual giving and vulnerability - from forming. 

 

There is also an excellent discussion of the question of both men and women being made in the image of God. In Patriarchy, only males are truly in the image of God - and thus men are gods. (See also: Trump and MAGA…) One good line from a longer discussion:

 

If man, like God, has a penis, does it not stand to reason that all who have penises are closer to the perfect image of God? Following this line of thinking, the penis itself becomes a sacred object shared by God and males.

 

The author goes on to examine the way that the Bible often (although not always) and church fathers (near universally) reduce women’s purpose to procreation. I’ll note Augustine’s bizarre claim that it would have been better if God had put another male in the Garden with Adam rather than Eve - he notes this would have literally been “Adam and Steve.” And it wasn’t just Augustine. 

 

Relying on Augustine’s writings, the medieval scholar Thomas Aquinas would conclude that insofar as Adam’s purpose for existence was an end in and of itself, women’s raison d’etre was to procreate.

 

If this sounds like what Simone de Beauvoir was railing against in The Second Sex, you would be right. And don’t forget Martin Luther with his praise of women who die in childbirth, because they gave their lives for their sole purpose for existence. And later, he is also quoted to the effect that women were like children, and needed a man to tell her what to do as if she were in fact a child. Yuck. 

 

But women are not only considered inferior, but also downright dangerous, because they are so damn sexy. 

 

Women were cast as the eternal temptress, responsible for arousing desire among holy men. Eve and all women who follow were the reason why men become sexually excited. Augustine maintains that a battle exists between the mind and aroused penises, which are caused by women. 

 

I approve of the author’s inclusion here of the passages where angels themselves got so horny that they just had to fuck human women, thus creating the monsters. 

 

Yeah, so you can see throughout this chapter just how deeply rooted misogyny and sexism is in the Christian tradition. The bottom line is, unfortunately, that John Calvin was one of many when he claimed that women were no more than a “necessary evil.” 

 

One final note in this chapter: De La Torre does a great job of illuminating the mistranslation and misinterpretation of the Mary and Martha story. Martha wasn’t stuck doing housework. The word for what she was doing is the root word of “deacon.” She was literally a deacon of the house church along with her sister. They were leaders. And Martha was busy serving. As the author notes here, a better reading of the passage elevates both Mary and Martha - as Christ did. 

 

The next chapter is even more of a challenge to current Evangelical practice. Because the author takes on the way that racism is inseparable from Evangelical sexual norms. Oh hell yes, he goes there. And he is one hundred percent correct. 

 

No conversation about oppressive sexual structures can be complete without an exploration of how race is eroticized for the purpose of controlling bodies of color. 

 

There is too much information in this chapter to summarize, but it is excellent. Straight up excellent. 

 

Sexism reflects just one aspect of what it means to be a “real man.” It is therefore appropriate to expand our understanding of oppression to include all forms of prejudice imposed on those who fail to live up to the standards of being a white male with economic privilege. Male heterosexual superiority in the United States is as much about race and class as it is about gender. It would be naive to think that gender, race, and class structures of oppression exist as separate, isolated compartments. These normalized forms of oppression interact with, reinforce, and at times conflict with each other, yet their outcome is similar: to maintain white heterosexual male privilege. 

 

De La Torre also does not pull any punches when he discusses the open belief that white males owned the bodies of their slaves, and could fuck and rape them at will. During that era, young Southern men typically had their “sexual initiation” by fucking slave girls soon after they reached puberty. And yes, the author mentions Strom Thurmond and his child by his family’s teenaged black maid. (He raped her when she was only 15.) 

 

Every Evangelical who still clings to the church’s teachings needs to read this chapter, and understand that all of this violence and rape was fully condoned by the Southern churches, justified by scripture, and considered part of what a good white Christian was entitled to in this life. 

 

The next chapter looks at the anti-body tendencies in historical Christian theology. And yes, this is another doozy. It is fascinating how much “pagan” philosophy has become orthodox Christian teaching - but here we are. Central to this is a disdain for the body, which goes beyond Christianity to the broader American culture. 

 

De La Torre traces this basic aversion to the body and its functions back to the Stoics, and the book does a good job of doing this succinctly yet persuasively. The author then traces this belief through history, showing how it led to a belief that the “spiritual” was good, the body and particularly sex was evil. Eventually, we ended up in a strange place. 

 

Pain, suffering, deprivation, and self-mutilation were spiritualized, whereas love was desexualized so that desire for sex could be replaced with desire for God. Pleasure was found in self-denial so as to concentrate on things of the spirit rather than of the flesh. As a result, desire of sexual pleasure was demonized, an urge requiring suppression. Through pain, the opposite of sensual pleasure, the joy of salvation could be achieved. 

 

I won’t recap all of the Augustine stuff in this section, but this book does give a great overview of how fucked up Augustine’s views of sex were. Including his blaming of women for desire. Various theological luminaries are quoted reducing the purpose of sex to procreation, not pleasure. One can easily imagine that women rarely if ever got orgasms from this kind of sanitized procreation. 

 

I can say that, along with reading the Bible, reading Confessions as a young man did a lot to cause me to reject Evangelical teachings. I could not square this idea that bodily pleasure was evil with the reality of my experience. Or with any hope for a truly loving and pleasurable marriage. 

 

The author also notes how control of sex by organized religion serves to maintain power. 

 

Sex has been transformed into a tool to protect patriarchy. Sexual ethics was defined to perpetuate an unjust social order, mainly at the expense of women. Therefore, establishment of any justice-based social order will require a subversion of the normative sexual ethics of the dominant culture, which were and continue to be designed to privilege affluent males. To seek a liberationist sexual expression, sex must move beyond existing for the sole purpose of procreation or channeling lust. 

 

De La Torre further argues that the “traditional” focus on rules - what is forbidden - is misguided. This is one of my favorite passages in the book. Here are some of the best parts:

 

The quest for power over others dictates theological and ethical pronouncements concerning sex by relegating sexual acts to a binary system of what is permitted and what is forbidden. As such, sex is narrowly defined by what we do with our genitals. How we employ our genitals in one Christian culture or epoch may be defined as sinful, whereas a different Christian culture or era may deem it acceptable. 

 

See, for example, past eras when it was considered more sinful to have oral sex with your spouse than it was to rape your mother. Or the whole polygyny thing. 

 

The biblical principles of justice that call for attending to the needs of “the least of these” must be reapplied by each succeeding generation to make sense in the evolving cultural ethos. If not, what the Bible has to say becomes irrelevant to the vast majority of Christians, as the credibility gap between the official church teaching on sexuality and the experience of most churchgoers continues to widen. 

 

This very much happened to me: the gap between doctrine and reality was just too great. But I can also mention the vast gap between the Catholic doctrine forbidding most contraception, and the reality that two-thirds of Catholics have used the pill, and over 90% have used some forbidden form of contraception at least once. 

 

Implementing biblical principles concerning sexual ethics does not mean developing new doctrines or ethical pronouncements. It requires developing more effective praxis, by debunking the stereotypes and biases of previous generations. Because any given group of Christians can be subject to oppressive social forces, Christianity is best determined by focusing more on the correct actions of the believer toward the disenfranchised and less on the official church’s beliefs and doctrines. 

 

Preach!

 

The main focus and concern of orthoeros is the sexual prejudices of those in power. Those whom society empowers usually impose restrictions on the powerless so as to enhance and secure their privileged spaces, as in the case of patriarchy. For this reason, it becomes crucial to construct a sexual ethics from the perspectives of the sexually marginalized - those subjected to sexual oppression. Those who are privileged by the present sexual patterns that cause oppression - specifically those who dominate their wives, partners, or supposed economic or racial “inferiors” - lack the moral authority to pass judgment on proper sexual relationships that may appear contrary to their so-called ethical vision. 

 

White Evangelicalism is in deep, deep, denial about this. They have not yet understood that their support of Trump has ruined any moral authority they might have had. They have NONE. It is utterly laughable that they think anyone outside their bubble can or should care what their opinions are. They have no morality, and thus no moral authority. 

 

The same applies to my parents at this point. They still think their opinion about my life matters. It doesn’t, because they have burned their moral authority to the ground. I will not be lectured about my choices regarding my marriage by someone who cannot tell good from evil at an elementary level

 

At this point, having discussed the wrong ways to approach sexuality, De La Torre sets forth what he believes are the minimum standards for healthy sexuality, and I fully agree with him on this. 

 

This familiar relationship is not so much a set of rules as a way of being. The focus is not on the type of sex that occurs between individuals. How then is orthoeros established? For orthoeros to bloom, sex must be safe, consensual, faithful, mutually pleasing, and intimate.

 

Yeah, that’s how I wish for sex to be as well. How it should be. And how it rarely is within “christian” marriages in my professional experience. I won’t quote it here, but De La Torre goes through each element, and he really does set forth a beautiful vision of sexuality. It requires responsibility, mutuality, and equality, though. Which is the polar opposite from what virtually every “christian” marriage advice book promotes. 

 

He also strongly ties this in with social justice - a brilliant insight that really needs to be shouted from the rooftops. 

 

Injustice is the violation of vulnerability and the taking advantage of mutuality - in short, the abuse of power over another. The basis for most unjust social structures is the denial of bodily rights - denying the right to clothing, food, shelter, and health care for the body through economic oppression, or denying the right of the body to participate in the fruits of society because of its gender, skin coloration, or sexual orientation. Our society’s obsession with the idealized white, heterosexual male body leads to injustices usually manifested in the form of classism, sexism, racism, and heterosexism. It is assumed that these idealized bodies are privileged to have power and control over poorer bodies, darker bodies, female bodies. 

 

That kind of sums up the MAGA movement, doesn’t it? The abuse of power over others. And white Evangelicalism is at the core of this abuse, unfortunately. De La Torre explains my own experience pretty well:

 

Before we can hope to make great sex achievable for all, we must first analyze the power structures that perpetuate the privilege of one group at the expense of the sexually marginalized. We must critically question the system of patriarchy, heterosexism, sexism, and their supporters. Yet when one voices the concern that the predominant sexual mores may foster oppressive social structures, one runs the risk of being labeled a libertine or a non-Christian by those who benefit most from reasserting their positions of power. 

 

Yep. Feel free to express doubt about, say, the Trinity, or even the afterlife. But don’t you dare suggest that gay people should be free to experience loving sex. 

 

And, in another amazing passage, De La Torre goes after another sacred cow: original sin. 

 

And yes, it is far past time that this destructive, unbiblical, and thoroughly man-made doctrine was consigned to the dust bin. 

 

Yes, it is unbiblical. It was invented by Augustine, as a way of explaining his own sexual hangups. He made sin into a sexually transmitted disease, rather than actions and systems that harm others. It ultimately removes responsibility from people, societies, systems, and cultures, and pushes it back into the murky past and a guy who ate some fruit. 

 

Here is the money line from this discussion:

 

The problem with the doctrine of original sin as a stain on one’s soul is that it ultimately roots all evil in Adam’s original act of disobedience. In short, blaming the original sin of Adam (the Fall) for the sins of oppression prevalent in today’s society is a questionable doctrine that obstructs ethical reflection. Doctrines are always being formed, reformed, and at times deformed. Most doctrines, either explicitly or implicitly, secure the power and privilege of those formulating the ethical pronouncements of the day. For example, “family values” is the present-day purity code used to condemn those whose sexual practices fall outside of the Religious Right’s moral vision. Today’s cultural spiritual leaders are perpetuating their own doctrines that, in effect, turn the Christian church into a new form of prison. 

 

And yes, the author points out that a woman can be celebrated as a CEO, given leadership positions in society (like my wife, a manager at her hospital), and yet be denied leadership in the church. This is one reason we left organized religion and have not returned. 

 

Well into the twenty-first century, the universal Christian church, rather than serving as the vanguard for the liberation found in Christ Jesus, usually finds itself still serving as the major legitmator of sexism (and heterosexism). Thus, the Christian Church remains among the most discriminatory institutions in existence - perpetuating unjust social structures. 

 

The second half of the book looks more positively at what makes for good sex, including justice in our relationships. 

 

One of the opening discussions is the cesspit that is “biblical marriage.” And to illustrate that, the author looks at the Fundamentalist Latter-Day Saints (aka, the polygamist Morman sect). As has come to light, in these groups, girls as young as nine are married off to older men, who, having economic privilege, can marry - rape, really - as many young girls as they can afford to support. 

 

The example of Hildale probably isn’t what those clamoring for the establishment of marriage in line with a literal biblical interpretation have in mind. But as far as truly biblical marriages go, Hildale, Utah, can serve as a perfect blueprint. 

 

As De La Torre gives ample evidence of in that chapter, this is not really disputable. To go back to a “biblical” marriage system, we would indeed have polygyny and child rape as normal.

 

From there, the author goes through history to the present, showing that “marriage” isn’t what we think it is. These days, most of us consider it a love match, a mutual contract for love and support. Up until recently, it was property ownership of women, an economic contract between families, and certainly nothing that could be considered mutual. (Although, as he notes, since the poor lack property, marriages between impoverished yet free persons has always been closer to egalitarian than marriages where property is the primary consideration.) 

 

De La Torre also briefly touches on the modern affectation that is the stay-at-home mom. Historically, only wealthy women could afford to be idle - it was a status symbol. 

 

In addition, the concept of the male as exclusive breadwinner was (and continues to be) unheard of among the poor. Although women of class were excluded from the workforce until about the mid-twentieth century, poor women and women of color were always expected to work, mostly in domestic roles, to help financially support the family. Even children, as recently as this past century, were also responsible for bringing home enough to eat. Women in poor families have always had to and still must work to earn money; the option of staying hime to care for the house and children full time is not feasible - it remains a class privilege disproportionately exercised by affluent whites. 

 

Hey, I wrote about that once, and also posted about The Way We Never Were by Stephanie Coontz. I have also noted that my wife and my decision to split breadwinning became a stupid and senseless bone of contention for my mother, and eventually led (along with other actions) to my wife withdrawing completely from a relationship with my parents. 

 

The next chapter, on sex and the single Christian, is an interesting exploration of a lot of misconceptions about what the Bible actually says. Let’s start with a Martin Luther quote:

 

“Onan must have been a malicious and incorrigible scoundrel. [Masturbation] is a most disgraceful sin. It is far more atrocious than incest and adultery. We call it unchastity, yes, a Sodomitic sin.” 

 

There are times when L. P. Hartley’s immortal line, “The past is a foreign country - they do things differently there” seems so true. I mean, say WHAT? Masturbation is worse than adultery or incest? 

 

That’s up there with notorious white supremacist preacher Doug Wilson’s claim that gay marriage is far worse than slavery was

 

Leaving aside the fact, to start with, that the Onan story isn’t even about masturbation, but about the use of coitus interruptus to avoid fathering a child for his deceased brother (levirate marriage), did Luther not realize that nearly all humans masturbate? 

 

So yes, De La Torre goes through the bible to show, among other things, that masturbation is never addressed, and apparently does not appear to be a priority for God. He also looks at how celibacy came to be the official Christian ideal, despite that position not really being biblical at all. 

 

One particularly fascinating passage in this section addressed something I hadn’t really been aware of. I had not realized that the Catholic Church didn’t officially force celibacy on clergy until a thousand years after Christ’s death. 

 

And, as usual, women paid the price for these decisions by powerful men. The wives of priests who wished to remain clergy had their marriages declared void - reducing them to the social status of prostitutes. From there, they - and their children - were sold into slavery. Yeesh. Not to different from Augustine sending his mistress and child away without means of support after he had his “conversion experience.” This is exactly what the author means by the problems inherent in seeing sexuality from the viewpoint of power and privilege, rather than its opposite. 

 

De La Torre also advocates strongly for accurate sex education in this book. This is tied to his belief that our bodies are sacred, and we need to understand how they work. And also, because a significant part of expressing sexuality in a way that promotes justice is not impregnating a woman without her consent. Hence the need for contraception in many cases. He also proposes better education on the “social and emotional” components of sex. Which is really good, actually. My home state of California has been trying to add this into its health classes recently, and my children benefited from this. Unfortunately, health is not a universal requirement, so some students still don’t get it. 

 

And then there is the discussion of premarital sex, which is refreshingly realistic. I mean, the Bible actually does not actually forbid premarital sex. (That’s one of the biggest lies we were fed.) For example, Ruth, who goes and grabs Boaz by the dick. And they have sex before he officially marries her. Damn seductress. Too bad she had to become an ancestor of the Hebrew kings, and eventually Christ, right? 

 

And the exploration of Song of Songs is also excellent. An unmarried woman who defies convention and the males in her family, invites her lover to have sex with her over and over. Yeah, reading that for the first time blew my mind and ruined my belief in certain doctrines. It’s a gorgeous erotic poem, and is primarily about female desire and pleasure. 

 

The book also notes something I have said many times before as well: just because two people are married doesn’t make the sex moral or ethical. Too many people I have known or worked with have used marital sex in a harmful and abusive way, or used it as a weapon, or as a transactional act. De La Torre insists that marital sex is only “familial” if it is based on mutual giving and vulnerability. 

 

The author also questions, as I have, whether expecting people to wait until their late 20s or 30s to have sex is so divorced from reality as to make the expectation irrelevant to most people. And we both conclude it is. 

 

Furthermore, contrary to the usual Fundie claim (one my parents used on me) that if you have sex before marriage, you will be blinded by lust and miss red flags, marrying primarily because it gives you permission to have sex leads equally - perhaps even more - to poor decisions. 

 

If we insist that sex must wait until marriage, we reduce marriage to simply a license to have sex. Entering a marriage so as to engage in sex is unwise and by far the most inadequate reason to ever wed. Wrong reasons for marriage can lead to poor judgment in choosing partners. Such marriages, based more on lust than on love, can only contribute to establishing an unhealthy relationship that is supposed to last a lifetime. 

 

By looking at sex, not as “dos and don’ts” involving our genitals, but as an expression of a loving relationship, he is able to envision a far better experience of intimacy than doctrine will give you. His description of the gradual exploration between two lovers (again, see Song of Songs), is beautiful, and something that I am eternally grateful that I was able to experience. 

 

The chapter on same sex relationships is excellent as well. As I have done, he cuts to the chase: the prohibition on same sex relationships is inseparable from its roots in misogyny. 

 

Much can be revealed about a person in the sexual acts that person vehemently and loudly condemns - specifically the fear of gays, and more precisely the fear of possibly being perceived as gay. 

 

I am pretty strongly cishet, but for various reasons, I have been perceived as gay pretty often. Probably my love for flannel shirts, poetry, and violin. But whatever, I don’t particularly care or mind. But for many men, it really matters. Why? Because “being gay” means they aren’t “masculine” enough. (Again, misogyny at work.) 

 

Whenever any individual fails to deal with their sexuality in a healthy manner, it will manifest itself in destructive ways, not just for the individuals, but also the overall community.

 

I strongly recommend reading this chapter for that reason. It goes through the trail of destruction that anti-LGBTQ bigotry has left in our churches and our society. And kudos to De La Torre for his strong statement as to why gay rights are not negotiable. 

 

One final note: For many who disagree as to how a biblical text is interpreted on any number of issues, a compromise is usually proposed in which both parties simply agree to disagree. This strategy can usually be beneficial. However, when the interpretation fosters oppressive structures, then agreeing to disagree can never be an option. When the Bible’s ancient words are used to support slavery, women’s subjugation, and ethnic cleansing, then such interpretations must be condemned for Christ’s sake. Interpretations that limit gay civil rights or advocate subjugation and oppression of homosexuals should also be challenged and condemned. 

 

As Robert Jones Jr. said: “We can disagree and still love each other unless your disagreement is rooted in my oppression and denial of my humanity and right to exist."

 

[The quote is often wrongly attributed to James Baldwin, another black gay writer - who I highly recommend reading.] 

 

Also major kudos for pointing out that the sin of Sodom - as stated in the Bible and confirmed by hundreds of years of Jewish interpretation - wasn’t homosexuality, but violent xenophobia. 

 

The same xenophobia demonstrated by the Sodomites, who sought to physically rape the foreigners in their midst, is present today in the actions of those who economically rape the poor and the undocumented alien. Both in ancient Sodom and in the modern United States, the residents in power desire to subordinate the stranger, the undocumented, and the alien in their midst. Rather than using this passage to condemn homosexuality, today’s preachers would be more biblically sound if they used Genesis 19 to show how First World nations economically treat the peoples of Third World nations, which is not so different from what the Sodomites hoped to do to the aliens in their own midst. 

 

Trump and the MAGA voters who put him in power expressly so he could abuse immigrants are the true Sodomites in our nation. 

 

As the author notes, even the sexual acts of the Sodomites aren’t homosexual: they are heterosexuals perpetrating same-gender rape. 

 

Also good is that De La Torre talks about the bizarre biblical references to angels getting horny and fucking human women. I love this bit of snark, in reference to the passages in 2 Peter and Jude to human/angel sex:

 

Why then mention Sodom and Gomorrah? Because the men of Sodom attempted to gang-rape Lot’s guests, who were angels. The townsfolk’s unnatural lust for angels is being condemned, not homosexuality. And again, both conservatives and liberals, heterosexuals and homosexuals can agree that sex with angels is probably not a good idea. 

 

I have already discussed the David and Jonathan story more fully in Unprotected Texts, but I will note that De La Torre also notes this rather obvious gay relationship. Discussed only in this book, though, is the story of Ehud. Which, well, once you see it, you can’t unsee it. Just saying. 

 

The chapter closes with an assertion that homophobia has been and continues to be used as a paradigm for oppression. 

 

Thus the man’s penetrating penis provides the personal capacity to dominate others, especially his adversaries. The resulting gaze of the dominant culture’s male assigns effeminacy to others who do not have a penetrating penis by which to “make” history, or “provide” for their family, or “resist” their subjugation. Women, nonwhites, and the poor usually end up becoming the “not male.” But those who are deemed to be “real men” cannot rest easy in their position. They fear that their masculinity - which is defined by the power they exert - would be forfeited if any suggestion or allegation of passivity or vulnerability was successfully made. 

 

This leads easily into the chapter on predatory sex, which is also excellent. It starts with Jerry Falwell, naturally, that disgusting false prophet who co-founded the Religious Right on a platform of segregation. 

 

In this case, after a pastor was prosecuted for raping multiple children, including some as young as age six, Falwell referred to the “scandal” as a “bump in the road.” 

 

This is, unfortunately, par for the course when it comes to religion’s response to sexual violence against women and children. 

 

It is disturbing that for some, a loving relationship between two individuals of the same sex is an abomination before the Lord, while the rape of children by a prominent pastor is simply “a bump in the road.” With all the talk about when not to have sex and who not to have it with, churches have done a poor job in engaging their congregations to deal with sexual practices that bring harm, if not death, to the most vulnerable members of society: women and children.

 

I won’t quote much from this chapter other than that, because it should be thoroughly uncontroversial to all decent humans. But it does need to be said, and De La Torre says it well. 

 

A professional note here: the very worst divorce case I ever did was one where a pastor was so sexually abusive to his wife that she had taken to locking herself in the spare bedroom at night to avoid being raped and expected to perform sex acts she found painful and degrading. 

 

It was ultimately the result of her adult children insisting she see a therapist (a wonderful, professional woman within the denomination, interestingly) and eventually seek a restraining order and a divorce. 

 

I had the pleasure of seeing her again a decade later, and she was a different person. She looked ten years younger, and glowed with happiness and wellbeing. Leaving that abusive piece of shit was a literal lifesaver for her. 

 

The fact that people like him find their way into ministry and are allowed to continue to abuse women and children is a huge black mark on the Church, and a major reason that membership is declining. 

 

I will touch on a couple of other areas briefly. The author looks at BDSM a bit, and, while he isn’t particularly a fan, I think he does a good job of delineating between consensual role play that is pleasurable for both parties, and pressuring someone to do acts they find unpleasant and undesirable. 

 

But what was most fascinating to me is this:

 

Are the extreme cases of self-denial and self-mutilation practiced by the early Christian ascetics in their desire to pursue heavenly pleasure a sanctified form of sadomasochism? If so, we have developed a faith in which the ultimate desire to please God is satisfied through the prolongation of pain. 

The Christianity that developed found pleasure in the state of being dominated by God. The pleasure received from sadomasochism is not so much the pain received or inflicted, but rather the knowledge of control over another. In the early Christian ascetics’ renunciation of sexual pleasure, did they turn God into a dominatrix? 

 

Yeah, good question. On a related note, of those I am acquainted with who have indicated some interest in BDSM, most have had traumatic religious experiences from authoritarian parents and churches. I suspect that many - maybe most of us? - have deep connections between trauma and sexuality, and at least in fantasy, may use sexuality to heal those wounds? 

 

I also loved that the author notes that porn isn’t monolithic. In his view, there is nothing dirty about sex or human bodies. But there is an issue when (usually) women are degraded, and sex is reduced to power and violence. In this, I agree. 

 

But most interesting here is his mention of shows like CSI, which are pornographic in their depiction of violence against women. He notes that while there are male victims in these shows, the more graphic and shocking violence comes against women. This is a kind of pornography of violence, and is perhaps more morally and ethically problematic than depictions of sex. 

 

Ultimately, De La Torre’s call for all of us to be aware of how violence against women is glorified in our culture is helpful. To know is to be able to counteract in our own behavior, and make sure that as men we honor and cherish our women rather than treat them with disrespect, objectification, and violence. 

 

When I was dating Amanda, I was given a number of “christian” marriage advice books, which universally turned out to be shit. Ironically, the best advice I read at that time came from the secular (at the time) radio show host, Dr. Laura - her advice was that men were human, had emotions too, and that treating each other kindly was the basis of a happy partnership. Good advice. (Even if she eventually moved to the right wing, and went off the rails.) 

 

If I had discovered this book at that time, it would have been a welcome one for its overall solid discussion of sexual ethics. (Never mind that it wasn’t written until 2007…too late for me.) I am considering buying this book for my own shelves, and can highly recommend it to anyone looking for an alternative to Evangelical Patriarchy-based sexual rules, but who still wants to ground their beliefs in the Christian tradition. 

 

And even for those for whom Christianity is not their belief, there is nothing in this book that should be objectionable to any decent human who wants to form a sexual ethic based on equality and mutual care. 

 

***

 

My (minor) disagreements with the author:

 

First the big one: the author is very negative about Prenuptial Agreements. As an attorney, I have the opposite view. The author - like most conservative religious sorts, interestingly - sees premarital agreements as inserting filthy lucre into what should be a love match. 

 

As an attorney, I understand that because our laws already insert property rights and spousal support into marriages, the lucre is already there whether you want it to be or not. Only a rejection of private property and income in general can sever this connection. A prenup is there to clarify rights, and in many cases, to modify the default legal relationships between the parties. There is nothing inherently “better” about the default rights than other approaches. Folks wishing to marry may well wish to clarify those legal monetary relationships using a prenup, and this does not minimize their love for each other or make them mercenaries. That’s my two cents. 

 

Next, De La Torre, presumably because of his intended audience, glosses over modern scholarship regarding biblical authorship. In the most annoying example, he assumes Saint Paul wrote the Pastoral Epistles, when the evidence is pretty undisputed that they post-dated Paul by over a century. They are essentially a forgery - at best a “in the style of Paul” tribute. Make of that what you will. This is a minor quibble, and does not diminish the argument the author makes, and his choice to ignore this probably is intended to appeal to his intended audience.

 

I’ll also note some disagreements in his approach to sex work, but again, these are minor. And any person who chooses to avoid either paying prostitutes or becoming one is hardly immoral. And he does avoid blaming sex workers. I think he is a bit naive to assume that if we fixed economic and gender inequality, sex work would disappear, but certainly economic and gender justice would reduce the numbers of people who turn to sex work because of necessity. 

 

The same applies to polyamory or short-term sexual relationships. While neither is something I am interested in, and the author’s views are defensible, I think that either can be ethical - and indeed supported by the Bible depending on which passages you choose. 

 

As to all of these (except prenups), I think these are extremely minor disagreements, and ones that are within the range of differing perspectives, not ultimate motives.  





Wednesday, April 23, 2025

The Death of Achilles by Boris Akunin

Source of book: Borrowed from the library

 

This is the fourth book in Akunin’s Fandorin mystery series. I have written about the first three previously - I recommend reading those first, because I include information about the author and the series that I will not duplicate in this post. 

 

The Winter Queen

The Turkish Gambit

Murder on the Leviathan

 

As I noted in previous reviews, the series is intended to contain an example of each of the 16 mystery novel types (as the author sees them) as well as containing one of the 16 different characters. While the novel genres are easy enough to find, I have yet to come across a listing of the character types, so I guess we all have to speculate. 


 

The Death of Achilles is a “murder for hire” mystery. So, one with an assassin who carries out a high-profile murder. 

 

Which is exactly what happens here. Our detective, Erast Fandorin, is recently returned (finally) to Russia, and gets hired as an assistant to the Moscow governor. Also returning is the great general, Sobolev, who is nicknamed “Achilles.” 

 

When Sobolev is discovered dead of apparently natural causes (a heart attack) in his hotel room, Fandorin is sure it is actually a murder. This leads him to deduce that in fact Solobev died, not in his own bed, but in the bed of a well-known courtesan - a great embarrassment that has been covered up by the general’s aides. 

 

But the deeper Fandorin digs, the more apparent it becomes that this is far bigger than it seems. The conspiracy to murder Sobolev goes all the way to the very pinnacle of power, to the inner circle of the Tzar himself. 

 

And, interestingly, the assassin turns out to be someone who appears in The Winter Queen. His attempt to kill Fandorin in that book was one of his very few failures. It isn’t too much of a spoiler to reveal that, as will be apparent to anyone who reads the book. 

 

One of the reasons for that is that the book is divided into two sections, each of which tells the story from a different perspective. 

 

The first part is from Fandorin’s point of view - an interesting return to the first person after the third person of the two prior novels. The second is told from the point of view of the assassin. We get his back story, as well as his account of the murder. 

 

The two come together at the end, in a final faceoff between the two greatest, well, whatever you classify them as: secret agents perhaps? 

 

The book is filled to the brim with historical and literary allusions - it is an easter egg hunt for nerdy sorts. 

 

The most obvious are the links to the Achilles story. However, the nickname is a red herring. The General isn’t Achilles; he is Hector. The assassin is the true Achilles, as the book makes clear with parallel after parallel between the two stories. I recommend taking a look at the Wikipedia page for the book after you read it for a good list. 

 

But the book also draws heavily on history as well. The general is based on Mikhail Skobelev, who did in fact die in a brothel and had that fact covered up by his aides. After his death, there were indeed conspiracy theories that he was assassinated - the book explores one of them. 

 

Several of the characters in the book are based on the real life figures they represent, from the Tsar on down. 

 

I will also mention that there are definite allusions to Sherlock Holmes and other classic mystery writers. An astute reader will likely note many of them. 

 

In general, this is a pretty violent book - it is part of the genre. Expect some graphic descriptions of bodily mayhem. That said, unlike far too many modern pulp books, this book - and the series in general - doesn’t focus on violence against women. Sure, women do face some violence - witnesses have to be erased, for example - but the book doesn’t dwell on it, and there is no hint of the quasi-pornographic lingering on female pain. 

 

Rather, the worst of the violence comes in encounters between Fandorin and his allies and the thugs of the underworld. And, of course, the final battle between Fandorin and the assassin. 

 

This book isn’t so much a whodunit as a story about the unfolding of a deep conspiracy, and the battle of wits between the protagonist and the antagonist. 

 

As I have noted before, while these books are genre fiction, they are higher quality than average, with good writing, well-laid plots, and rich historical detail. Within the implausibility of the idea of the superhero detective, they are quite plausible. People act like real people, and the characters usually go deeper than the surface. 

 

I noted a few lines that were interesting. For example, the description of Wanda, the courtesan who has the bad luck to have a client assassinated….before she could do it herself.

 

“Who is this Wanda that everybody knows?”

“Well, perhaps not everybody, but she is a well-known individual in certain circles. A German woman from Riga. A singer and a beauty, not exactly a courtesan, but something of the kind. A sort of dame aux camelias.

 

That’s a Dumas reference, by the way. 

 

As it becomes apparent that there are threads in the mystery that might lead in unpleasant directions, one of the general’s aides challenges Fandorin to a duel, then tries to extract a promise that Fandorin will preserve the honor of Russia. Fandorin’s response is badass. 

 

“I promise, Gukmasov, that I will do nothing against my own honor, and that, I think, is sufficient.” 

 

Later, in an incident involving a German spy, Fandorin notes why this known spy is left unmolested. 

 

“And you don’t pick him up because a secret agent you know is better than one you don’t.” 

 

In another perceptive line, after Fandorin confronts the independent gangster, Little Misha. 

 

Extreme cruelty was the obverse side of cowardice, Erast Petrovich thought philosophically. But that was not really surprising, for these were the very worst pair of qualities that humanity possessed. 

 

Something to keep in mind in our own era of cruel bullies in government. 

 

Fandorin at one point interviews the mistress of the general - who hasn’t been forthcoming about what she knows. 

 

“Because of your omissions, Ekaterina Alexandrovna, I assessed the situation incorrectly and a very good man was killed as a result. As well as several bad ones, who nonetheless still had immortal souls.” 

 

I’ll end with a note about the Moravians and Mennonites. Yeah, that came out of nowhere, right? Well, in the second part, it turns out that the assassin’s roots are in one of those non-violent communities that fled Germany for Russia in the 1800s. 

 

Because they refused to serve in the army, they were expelled from Germany. Later, in addition to suffering from random violence like Jewish communities experienced at the time, they were eventually expelled from Russia as well, and for the same reason. 

 

My Mennonite ancestry on both sides of the family was part of this story. By ancestors were expelled from Germany, then Russia, before settling in Montana and Kansas. After coming here, the family assimilated into the mainstream of Evangelicalism, losing the Mennonite culture and roots. But I would like to think that my own aversion to violence and my commitment to social justice is a sign of my roots showing a bit. 

 

As I have before, I strongly recommend reading these books in order. The plots stand alone pretty well, but it helps to know Fandorin’s past, as it always affects his present actions. 

 

Overall, I have found I enjoy the books quite a bit. They are a bit different from the average English language mystery, but familiar enough to be easy to follow and enjoy. 

 

Tuesday, April 22, 2025

Forever... by Judy Blume

 Source of book: Audiobook from the library

 

Fair disclosure here: because of the current political situation, I have concern that certain books are going to become difficult to find due to official censorship or, perhaps more likely, preemptive compliance in order to avoid trouble. This is particularly a risk in Republican-dominated areas like the one I live in, where a loud and active minority gets more press than they deserve and are all too often able to create trouble for the rest of us, who prefer free speech. 

 

Because of this, I have been, and will be reading and reviewing a number of sexuality-related books this year. Some of them may be added to my own library later, if I decide they may be of use. 

 

One of these is this classic by legendary children’s author Judy Blume. 


We have listened to a couple of her other books, and I have found that they are rather interesting. On the one hand, like any book set in the present, they feel a bit of their time and place: the white collar middle class of New England in the 1970s. This means that they feel a bit set in certain secular white communities.

 

On the other, the themes are timeless, and the characters familiar due to their nuance and Blume’s keen eye for human nature. 

 

Listening to this one, though, I think I was struck most with how progressive the 1970s seem by comparison to today in so many ways. Particularly compared to my own teens in the 1990s in the ultra-conservative religious subculture. I mean, in these books, children are treated like actual people, not little sinners needing to be beaten into submission, or pawns in the culture wars. 

 

And normal human behavior is seen as, well, normal, and something to be discussed in terms of avoiding harm to self or others, now and in the future. Wow. It’s straight-up refreshing. 

 

It is hard to believe this book is slightly older than I am - it turns 50 this year. It seems to be from a different era altogether. Or maybe from an alternative future I wish my children could have had, rather than the MAGA-Fascist one we have. 

 

I will say at the outset that I was somewhat shocked at how sexually explicit this book is. I cannot imagine something like this getting published in our current climate - which is a shame, because “explicit” isn’t really the issue when it comes to sex, but context and content. 

 

And, in that sense, this book is really great. I’ll explain that later in this post. 

 

The book had its genesis in a conversation between Blume and her daughter Randy, who asked her mother to write a book about two nice teens who fell in love and had sex, and neither of them had to die

 

Which, well, that doesn’t seem like that much to ask, right? Well, not so much, as reading literature from past eras certainly shows. Particularly if a woman had sex, and enjoyed it, she has to die. Because…

 

[Note: I will be reviewing A Lily Among the Thorns by Miguel De La Torre soon, and will discuss a lot more about my own views on human sexuality - these two books go well together. Stay tuned.] 

 

Here is the thing: sometime around the 1920s, a HUGE shift in culture occurred. And it isn’t what people usually think. 

 

Prior to that time, most middle-class males in the Western world had their first sexual intercourse in one of two ways. Either with a prostitute, or by raping a servant. The shift in the 1920s is that from that time on, the majority of males had their first sexual experience with a peer. That is, with a female of their own social class. 

 

Or, what we would now call “premarital sex.” 

 

Thus, when we Americans (or Europeans, Canadians, or Australians, and more…) look around, 90% or more of the adult humans we see had sex before they married. Full. Stop. 

 

And guess what? Nothing horrible happened to most of them. They went on to get married, have kids, grandkids, and normal lives. 

 

As an attorney who has handled family law cases - and estate planning cases too - I have quite a bit of insider knowledge about family history. You would be surprised (or maybe not) at how many respectable, church-going, normal religious people had their first child six months or less after getting married. Clients also tend to talk, and I have heard plenty of women in divorces talk about being a virgin on their wedding night. Or the other way around. 

 

What I can say from this and knowledge of my own extended family is that of all the factors in whether a marriage is happy and whether it will stay together, virginity is at the bottom of the list. Probably behind freckled moon spots or the flight of an unladen swallow. I’m not kidding. 

 

If anything, the shotgun marriages I have known the best tended to be happier on average. Perhaps because there was a strong sexual connection to start with. 

 

The opposite can be true too, of course. People get married because they get pregnant, often too young, and break up. But people also get married so they have religious permission to fuck, often too young, and break up. So….maybe not a real pattern here. 

 

Before I get too far off a rabbit trail here, let me just mention a few things that I have thought about for literally decades. 

 

First, due to our current economic system, marriage and children increasingly make sense only (if ever) once a person is able to afford a family, which is happening ever later in life. Now that student loans are so often a lifetime debt, this time may never come for many people. Expecting that people will never experience sex and intimacy because they are enslaved to the financial system is unrealistic. As is, for that matter, expecting most people to wait until age 30 before sex. It simply isn’t going to happen, no matter how much you lecture them. 

 

Second, given that a shockingly high number of women do not experience orgasm with a partner most or all of the time, it seems to me that a woman would have every incentive to take a partner for a test drive before committing to them. Getting stuck with a man who refuses to learn how to pleasure a woman sounds like hell to me, and I would never blame a woman for wanting to check first that he isn’t a boor. Just saying. 

 

Okay, with that, on to the book itself.

 

***

 

The title is Forever… with the three dots included. There is a reason for this, and the book continually circles back to that theme throughout. 

 

The story is told through the eyes of Katherine, a high school senior. She meets Michael at a New Years party, and the two of them become interested in each other. Soon, they are dating, and navigating the question of sex. 

 

Unlike in the religious subculture I grew up in, for their families, the issue of sex is more of a health and emotional question, not a moral one. And this is a good thing. 

 

Here is where I think the book is particularly good: the issue of sex is based firmly in consent and mutual pleasure. While Katherine and Michael are teens, and act out in teen ways sometimes, they are basically good people, and concerned about each other. 

 

For Michael, socialized into the idea that boys push for sex, has to balance the script he knows with his desire that Katherine fully consent. And he gets it right most of the time, actually. With the exception of some stupid and hurtful stuff he says when they break up, he is a really nice guy. 

 

He makes sure Katherine is okay with everything they do, agrees to take things slowly - slower than he would like, actually - and is concerned that she experience pleasure as well. He is a pretty damn good lover for a novice. 

 

Likewise, Katherine genuinely cares about him, and feels terrible when they do break up, even though she knows that she isn’t yet ready for “forever” decisions. 

 

The whole love story is sweet and tender and beautiful, even if it inevitably leads to disappointment. After all, they are still high schoolers, with college ahead of them, and it really is too early for them to be making forever decisions. 

 

When I say that the book is sexually explicit, I mean that it uses the appropriate clinical terms for body parts. It describes contact in a sensual although not obscene way. Michael touches Katherine’s breasts and vulva. She strokes his penis until he ejaculates. They have intercourse several times. 

 

And, most shocking of all, Katherine describes the feeling of her orgasm. Because orgasms for girls are important in this book. 

 

Really, the only negative thing I can say about the sex is that it was a bit awkward listening to it with one’s teens. I still have some baggage from my past, sigh. 

 

There is a certain sadness in the breakup, of course. Breaking up always sucks. But it is clear that Katherine, as much as she loves and is attracted to Michael, is not ready to commit to marriage. And, I suspect if Michael were honest, neither is he. But the connection is powerful, and it hurts to break it. 

 

Again, given my own professional experience, better to break up before getting married and having kids than after. 

 

Other good things about this book: 

 

Katherine and Michael can talk about her period without getting all weird. Personally, I was raised this way - my upbringing was a strange combination of really good sex education and really fucked up beliefs about gender. We could always talk about menstruation, and I never felt it was a particular taboo. 

 

Also good is that Katherine and Michael take responsibility for the sex they have. They use contraception, first condoms, and then later Katherine takes it on herself to get the pill from the local planned parenthood. This is modeling responsible behavior - the point of sex education come to think of it. If you are too young to take responsibility for what you are doing, you shouldn’t be doing it. 

 

In this sense, Katherine and Michael are indeed mature enough for sex. Not only by being physically responsible, but accepting the emotional responsibility, and choosing to act kindly (most of the time) toward each other. Honestly, this relatively brief relationship shows more emotional maturity than more than half the marriages I have seen up close. 

 

There are a few things that do seem dated about the book, and, interestingly, Blume herself talks about them in her afterward to the edition we listened to. 

 

In addition to sharing the story of her daughter, she also notes that back in the 1970s, prevention of pregnancy was the main concern for safe sex, so even for a short relationship, the pill was considered sufficient. Nowadays, in our post-AIDS society, Katherine and Michael would have been advised to continue to use condoms at least until they were a long-term relationship where both had been tested for STIs. 

 

Another dated bit was the fact that Katherine appears to orgasm fairly easily through intercourse alone (although with foreplay.) This is now understood to be something the majority of women do not experience. Most women need direct clitoral stimulation for orgasm. I think it would have been helpful, given how good the rest of the book is in educating about the reality of sex, if this might have been mentioned somehow. 

 

But these are really minor quibbles. The book is a classic for a reason: it is the most realistic portrayal of teenage sex - indeed young sexual discovery generally - that I have ever read. And it is really sweet and loving and tender and sad and real. 

 

It matches my own experience of a sexual awakening so much better than any of the Fundie crap I grew up with. 

 

There are a number of lines that are really excellent that I remembered enough to look up. 

 

“Sex is a commitment...Once you're there you can't go back to holding hands...and when you give yourself both mentally and physically...well, you're completely vulnerable.” 

 

That is a simply outstanding observation. This is why, for me, I really can’t envision casual sex as something I would enjoy. But also why I love sex with a partner I love so much. 

 

This next line is a great rebuttal to the kind of moral panic each generation of parents seems to have. 

 

“I still get angry when older people assume that everyone in my generation screws around. They're probably the same ones who think all kids use dope. It's true that we are more open than our parents but that just means we accept sex and talk about it. It doesn't mean we are all jumping into bed together.” 

 

Ironically, the Baby Boomers were, statistically, the most promiscuous generation of my lifetime. Since then, each generation has delayed sex more, had fewer partners, and fewer unplanned pregnancies. But it’s all the kids’ fault, right? 

 

I’ll end with this line, from the end of the book, which is just incredible. 

 

“I wanted to tell him that I will never be sorry for loving him. That in a way I still do - that maybe I always will. I'll never regret one single thing we did together because what we had was very special. Maybe if we were ten years older it would have worked out differently. Maybe. I think it's just that I'm not ready for forever.”

 

In my own life, my wife and I met and married fairly young - although we didn’t date until we were both in college. Ours was a young marriage, although not as young as my parents, for example. 

 

We had a beautiful courtship and sexual awakening together, and, as the line says, it was beautiful and very special. And we don’t regret a single thing we did together and I will never be sorry for loving her. Even if it hadn’t worked out, it was still beautiful and special and something I will treasure my entire life. 

 

In a way, I miss being young and in love like we were, even though I really don’t want to be in my 20s again. It is good being middle aged and in love too, and a quarter century with a beloved partner is also a beautiful and special thing. But I am grateful that we  had that beautiful experience of being young and in love together. 

 

Forever… is a classic for a reason, and I am glad we listened to it. It presents a far more healthy look at sexuality - including teen sexuality - than most media even these days. All of us should aspire to treat each other with respect, love, and consideration. For any of us, taking responsibility for our sexuality like Katherine and Michael do would be a good thing. And really, many marriages and relationships disintegrate because the partners do not take this kind of responsibility - physical and emotional - and seek consent and pleasure for the other. But we all should.

 

In this era, when online influencers of the “manosphere” push toxic and violent masculinity, and then wonder why toxic men can’t get laid, Judy Blume offers an alternative: loving and consensual relationships. The world will be a better place if her vision wins out in the end. 

 

***

 

Note on my sexual education:

 

In many ways, I had an excellent sex education. My parents were always frank and willing to talk. I would say it was FAR better than my public schooled peers got at the time, and definitely better than I have found most homeschooled kids to have gotten. 

 

The good: 

 

Scientifically accurate information about bodies, puberty, menstruation, and intercourse. Solid information about STIs, contraception, and pregnancy. A good emphasis on consent and mutual pleasure, even if I wasn’t taught what a clitoris was and how to pleasure one. Generally good information on the emotional dimensions of sex - how it can paper over red flags in a relationship, the need for women to feel safe in order to orgasm. 

 

The not-so-good:

 

For obvious reasons, no scientifically accurate information about sexual orientation or gender identity. Although, to be fair, this was the 1980s, and homophobia went a lot deeper than religious beliefs in the larger society. Nobody in public school was getting great information here either. 

There was also, of course, the usual “no sex until you are married” thing, with “the line” drawn in various places depending on who you were reading. For Gothard, no kissing before marriage. For others, as long as that penis wasn’t in a vagina, it was okay. My parents were somewhere in the middle. 

The worst, though, was the gender essentialism - which turned out to be so far from reality that I pretty much had to abandon the whole thing. You know the stuff: “men trade love to get sex, women trade sex to get love.” That’s horseshit. Men need love as much as women do, and women can and do enjoy sex for its own sake. And the gender roles thing, that became more important to my parents as time went on. 

 

But overall, I got good education - and it made a positive difference once I started experiencing sexuality with a partner, while laying the foundation for a healthier marriage than most. 

 

***

 

The narrator for the audiobook was Caitlin Kinnunen, and I thought it was kind of meh. It was hard at times to distinguish between the voices, including between Michael and Katherine, which is actually important at times. Oh well, at least the book itself was compelling, even if the audio left me a little flat.