The Goddess Array

I think I lead a pretty pedestrian life, but I swear to the gods, “bring her flowers; dim the lights; relax her; hug her; cuddle her; take her slow dancing” is “things to do because they’re pleasurable for everyone” not “The Goddess Array.” Seriously? Are our ideas of female holiness so fucking pathetic that “hug her” is a trick of the gods?

If somebody is going to use any “Goddess Array” on me, it better leave me nothing but a quivering, grinning mess in the middle of the bed/floor/dining room table/Montana/etc. Leave the lights on. Open the windows. Let the cops who respond to the noise complaint stand out on my lawn shifting uncomfortably as they realize what’s going on. Make the paramedics blush. Leave me and the seven other people involved with a permanent limp. Make it something college kids whisper about and pass down like a ghost story in the dorms at night. Whatever a Goddess Array is, after we do it, by god, the Tennessee State Legislature better be talking about how to outlaw it to prevent it from happening again.

“Hug her.” Please, Naomi Wolf. Please.

In related news, I could read this book review over and over all day. I do feel like my vagina is slacking a little because it’s not really a mystical experience for me when someone dims the lights, but in my vagina’s defense, neither it nor I had any idea that it should be.

12 thoughts on “The Goddess Array

  1. That list of “the Goddess Array” sounds more like it would leave me with a grumpy vagina.

  2. The review is funny. But you are hilarious.

    Wolf defines the vagina as “the entire female sex organ, from labia to clitoris to cervix”

    ugh. and how weird. It would be weird to define penis as “the entire male sex organ” since there’s more to it than that. Why is it okay to do to women? While supposedly teaching us something about women’s bodies and pleasure she’s actually playing into the mystification about us either being just internal analogs to men or with so many confusing parts and pieces that cannot be made sense of.

  3. The reviewer writes: “Wolf investigates the science of female sexuality, including new findings showing a powerful connection between the vagina and brain.” And I just have to ask two things:
    1) did people doubt this?
    2) which parts of our bodies lack a powerful connection to the brain?

  4. Apparently, one of the (multitudinous) things that squicks people (who enjoy good writing and are not morons) out about Fifty Shades of Grey is the narrator’s incessant referencing of her “Inner Goddess” and said Goddess’s thoughts on the matters (ahem) at hand.

  5. And, lest I not see you after all, I love with the fire of a thousand bottles of self-heating lubricant your description of what the “Goddess Array” ought to be like. Hell to the yeah!

  6. That second paragraph. Whew.

    I love it for 2 reasons. First, because I found myself all flushed after reading, and that’s always a fun thing.

    The second reason is a bit more complicated in my head. Reading that I thought “hells yes, she’s absolutely right.” And then I had two immediate and contradictory reactions. That it was inappropriate (? I can’t quite put my finger on the right word) to have ideas like that, and then, in the next millisecond that I was wrong, of course your description was appropriate. That it’s a healthy and wonderful view on how things could or should be. I think I need more of your version of a goddess array in my life.

    That’s going to stay with me a while. in a good way. :)

  7. Kathleen, I think part of the problem is that we don’t have a lot of good models for lusty, bawdiness in women. it does kind of trip the “oh, that’s not right” trigger, even if you then immediately say “what? Why would I think that’s not right?”

    But a goddess, especially one from the many traditions in which they are not raped and under no fear of rape, must have a holy strain of lusty, bawdiness, right?

    Hell, even in traditions with rape myths–like Persephone–Demeter has Baubo.

  8. … we don’t have a lot of good models for lusty, bawdiness in women.

    This is the chief reason I hate how Bette Midler got all sanitized and Hollywood-ized and lost her bawdy brilliance in channeling Sophie Tucker for a new generation. Hearing her bellow “… ‘Soph’ (he always called me Soph)” changed my life as a high-school sophomore.

    Twenty does go into eighty a hell of a lot more than eighty goes into twenty, by the way.

    I wish there was an emoticon for a wink and a grin accompanied by a big powdery perfumed boob flounce. I’ll have to create one. ;oDB

  9. Bette Midler was the only living woman i could think of who embodied the kind of energy I was trying to get at. Mae West before her and the great Blues women like Bessie Smith and Ma Rainey and… then…

    I kind of want to see where Nicki Minaj ends up when she’s in her late 30s. She’s not there yet. I don’t know if she even wants to get there. But she’s literally the only other living woman I can think of who has the right ingredients–the right level of comfort with herself, brains, and wicked sweetness.

  10. Lusty bawdiness! Yes and yes. It’s just so refreshing for it to be out and about for everyone to see.

    And grandefille, if you don’t mind, I may have to appropriate your big powdery perfumed boob flounce. That’s all kinds of awesome.

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