The Home for the Literarily Bent
BDSM
Sex and Sadism
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Sex and Sadism front cover
by Val Vane
Published in 1967 by Stewart Gordon Publications
I looked forward to reading Sex and Sadism. The blurb on the cover promises “An intimate look into the lives of people actively obsessed with the need to inflect or to receive pain in the spirit of pleasure.” This book is also listed in the Leather Archives and Museum’s Leather History Timeline. With both those things going for it, I envisioned a sweet candy treat for my twisted literary tastes. Unfortunately, I got a sourball.
This book has any number of problems. I’m sure I could list them all but frankly gave up carefully reading this mess after 100 or so pages. Written in a faux scholarly tone, it compares it to moralistic treatises of the early 1900s. For example the book’s opening words, “Contemplating the squalid story of Human Evolution, one is inevitably forced to the conclusion…” The prose in the mess never gets better, just longer.
More annoying than the tone and prose is the author’s habit of relaying stories without providing sources or enough detail to verify the veracity of his assertions. I’d provide lots of examples, but since Val Vane doesn’t think it important why should I?
The book fails to deliver its promised “intimate look” into the lives of sadists and masochists. Instead, we get a roundabout history review of chattel slavery and crime and punishment through the ages. The only real hint of sadomasochism is a series of letters hastily tacked onto the end of the book. Again, the author fails to give us any evidence of the letters’ origins. I recognized several from John Willie’s Bizarre magazine. (I’d research that and give you specific issues, but again Val doesn’t care so why should I?) I suspect the rest of the letters are similarly cribbed from other period publications.
Why these letters are included or why this book was written is unclear. My best guess is that this book was originally written as a “legitimate” history of torture similar to A History of Torture throughout the Ages by George Ryley Scott, but was so poorly written no mainstream publisher would accept it. Unlike Sex and Sadism, George Ryley Scott’s book is a brilliant treatise. I can’t recommend it highly enough. Scott not only understands history and cites sources, he shows he also understands the nature of sexual sadism.
Sex and Sadism proves neither arousing nor informative. Worse still, it commits the worst transgression I can think of: it’s boring.
The New Topping Book
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The New Topping Book front cover
by Dossie Eastman and Janet W. Hardy
Published in 2003 by Greenery Press
Covering everything from negotiation to aftercare The New Topping Book is a thorough guide to the emotional side of topping. While the practical advice is expected, it’s the unexpected things that make this book truly worthwhile.
I was particularly heartened to see the “Top’s Bill of Rights.” Too often, the fact that we tops have needs is overlooked (even by other tops). I suppose that the general belief that if the top is in charge and not getting his needs met it is his own failure. This is at best simplistic. A good scene is like a dance; unless you’re Billy Idol it isn’t much fun to do it by yourself. Naturally not only do tops have rights but also responsibilities and “The Top’s List of Responsibilities” delineates these well.
Having something go wrong in a scene is inevitable. Sometimes that wrong thing turns out to be something nice though that obviously isn’t normally the case. The pages devoted to preparing for this eventuality are of particular interest, and will help give any responsible top the tools he needs to manage a scene.
I can only find one fault with this book: the narrative interludes. Their appearance needlessly jolts the flow of the book. While learning from other people’s experiences is invaluable, the book would have improved if those experiences were relayed in the same voice that the rest of the text is written in. This is but a minor complaint and the book is more than strong enough to overcome it. Highly recommended.
The Toybag Guide to Clips and Clamps
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The Toybag Guide to Clips and Clamps front cover
By Jack Rinella
Published in 2004 by Greenery Press
Just when I was ready to give up on ever reading a well written BDSM book I happened to pluck this little gem from my collection. Unlike most of the Greenery Press’ authors, Rinella writes in a clear concise style. Better still, rather than rambling about fantasies he has, he incorporates the experiences of others into his narrative and uses those experiences to explain things he’s already discussed or introduce new ideas.
If you are unfamiliar with the Greenery Press’ Toybag Guides, they are small pocket-sized books devoted to BDSM topics. Though Rinella spends most of his discussion on the most common of all clamps, clothespins, he also discusses other styles of clamps and objectively discusses their merits.
Despite this book’s short length, I enjoyed it and it will remain a handy reference for years to come. However, there were a few things I noticed that weren’t mentioned in the book that may be of use to you, so I will mention them here for your edification.
First, in his inventory of clamps, he does not discuss sheet metal clamps. Whether Rinella omitted them because they are less commonly used in play or because of concern that they are too dangerous to use, I don’t know. If it is the latter, it is a concern he can hardly be faulted for having.
The other omission I noticed was there was no discussion about clothespins modifications. While some people enjoy modifying their play clothespins with small nails or other objects to increase their bite, I personally have never found the reward worth the effort. Perhaps you have lots of free time to devote to putting small nails or rubberbands on clothespins. If so, go for it! Clothespins can be taken apart and reversed for a different sensation. Trivia lovers take note; folks in the motion picture industry refer to a clothespin as a “C47” and a reversed clothespin as a “C74.” (Full credit for that tidbit of knowledge belongs to Hardy Haberman.)
Play Piercing
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Play Piercing front cover
by Deborah Addington
Published in 2006 by Greenery Press
I’m not sure what to make of this book’s appearance in print. On the one hand, it’s good that a publisher with the stature of Greenery Press finally went on the record and published a resource about play piercing. Yet for some reason, I can’t help but envision a self-serving politician hoisting this book in front of the cameras of a media all too eager to play along about the latest menace to our children. Even though we’re all responsible for our own behavior, I also can’t help but worry that the book might inspire someone who doesn’t know what they are doing to try play piercing on someone too trusting and result in a bad play experience or worse.
Play piercing is one of my favorite play activities. While there is a great deal of medical literature and accepted medical practices devoted to similar practices such as phlebotomy, play piercing is an art and not a science. There aren’t lots of controlled studies dedicated to following how different piercing techniques affect the body, how piercing bottoms react to such things. Nor is there a central agency to receive trouble reports when play piercing goes awry.
Though there is little doubt that experience is imminently valuable about learning how to do something like play piercing, all of that experience is anecdotal. Just because I stuck a needle in the Nether Region A on subs x, y, and z and nothing bad happened to them, it’s a big stretch to say that sticking a needle in Nether Region A is “safe.” For one thing, I don’t think that play piercing is safe.
It is my considered opinion that if you want to enjoy BDSM but only when it’s safe, you should probably find a new sexual outlet. Most everything BDSM doesn’t meet any reasonable definition of “safe” either physically or emotionally. Which is okay. Just because something isn’t safe doesn’t mean one has to be reckless – exercising caution isn’t a bad thing.
If nothing else, Play Piercing will prove to be a good resource for those interested in play piercing, because it will stand as a handy reference for basic questions about the most common questions and techniques about play piercing. The book also suggests a few more advanced play piercing techniques and ideas that can expand the play of even the most experienced play piercing fan. The sections devoted to the joys of blood play are also of interest.
Still I can’t write about this book without mentioning a few minor things that bugged me as I read through the pages. One thing in particular was Addington’s use of the term “skinsuit” to describe the skin. I don’t know if it was intended to be clever, cute, or both, but it distracted from the text.
In another section where she discusses consuming (drinking) blood, she attempts to come across as a blood epicurean and makes silly and preposterous claims about how one’s diet affects the taste of their blood. She claims that people who eat fish often taste fishy, frequent fried food lovers taste like gravy, and so on. Until someone coducts a double blind study of the taste of blood and diet, I will remain unconvinced. Perhaps instead of a rigorous study, someone could start a crimson Pepsi Challenge. Imagine perverted volunteers like myself being surprised to discover they prefer the taste of Miss Eats-McDonald’s-Every-Day to Miss Exercises-and-Watches-Her-Diet. Then again, I’m a little strange.
While this book will not serve as a substitute for learning about play piercing by doing and observing, anyone interested in play piercing, regardless of their level of experience, will find this book a good investment of time and money.
Flogging
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Flogging front cover
by Joseph W. Bean
Published in 2000 by Greenery Press
The foreword to Flogging begins, “You cannot learn flogging – Top or bottom – from a book.” While many might find that a curious claim for a book that sets about teaching the art of flogging, that forthright admission is fine evidence of this book’s value.
Covering everything from negotiation, positioning, types of floggers, techniques, managing the scene, aftercare, toy care, and all points in between in detail, Bean offers a comprehensive guide that gives one the tools they need to explore the world of flogging.
My only complaint with this book is the heavy use of narrative scene interludes to emphasize the instructional text. While a standard format for BDSM technique books, it distracts from a book’s narrative flow. I wish I knew who was responsible for starting this trend in the genre so I could make them pay dearly for the literary agony their legacy has inflicted on me. (Actually, I do know who shoulders the blame for this. Though I haven’t read or reviewed that book yet, I will eventually. While I promise to read that book with an open and unbiased mind, I feel confident I’ll excoriate them appropriately.) Bean’s narratives describe flogging scenes in detail, and he references them frequently in his instructional text. If these scenes and their references were omitted, the finished work would be a pamphlet and not a book.
While Bean clearly knows his topic, I can’t escape the feeling that using a different format would have allowed him to cover it in greater depth and scope which is a shame. My complaint aside, Flogging is an essential reference that anyone who wishes to explore the erotic possibilities of flagellation will be well served to read.