tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16209962784704056822024-03-13T10:09:32.526-07:00A BIT O'MUSLINSex and History. And sometimes a little more.Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.comBlogger71125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-91380785877627826342016-02-07T11:54:00.002-08:002016-02-07T14:34:33.669-08:00A Movie Review of Pride & Prejudice & Zombies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Dear Mr. Steers (the director and writer to Pride and Prejudice and Zombies),<br />
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1620996278470405682" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><br />
The movie, as Mr. Darcy would say, was "tolerable...but not enough to tempt me." Note: I respect your audience enough not to give spoilers.<br />
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I waited months to see this movie. MONTHS. It's all I ever talked about to my readers and to my family. Given it was taken directly from Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice with the drama of "zombies", and that the book itself was funny, scary and good, this movie had the potential to be BLOODY INCREDIBLE!!!<br />
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Unfortunately...one teeny tiny detail was left out. The storyline. It made me wonder, Mr. Steers, did you ever actually read the book to understand what the heart of the story was about? Even watching Colin Firth play Darcy or any Pride and Prejudice movie might have helped "steer" you in the right direction. It's not that I'm a Jane Austen purist. Far from it. I'm someone who likes to see things taken out of the box and smashed into the tiniest of pieces to make something new. And maybe that was the problem. You didn't even touch the box. You didn't even sniff it.<br />
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It takes real talent to direct and write. Very few people can pull off doing both. I would never claim to be anything more than a writer. It's the whole Jack of all trades and master of none sort of mentality. But I do know good writing when I see it and while you skirted it quite brilliantly at times, too many pieces were missing. *eyes cast downward in mournful sorrow*<br />
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<b>PROS:</b><br />
1.) The costuming, the settings and the filming were fantastic. It was eye candy in a box! The colors and the costuming and the setting made me feel like I was in Regency, England with a twist. I absolutely loved the visuals. Loved, loved, loved. Did I mention I loved the visual and the filming?!<br />
2.) The acting was phenomenal. BBC quality phenomenal. Mr. Collins (played by Matt Smith) was hilarious and everything we wanted out of him and more. The rest of the cast was equally magnificent! And the opening scene with Mr. Darcy...OMG. The opening scene is what carried me through the entire movie in the hopes something would match it.<br />
3.) The scene between Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth, when he proposes to her is classic. They weren't just verbally fighting. They were physically fighting. It rocks.<br />
4.) This is where my praise ends *sniffles*<br />
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<b>CONS (Hold on because the pot holes in the road are going to shake your carriage):</b><br />
1.) Some of the scenes were WAY too dark and it was obvious it had been filmed during the day with a filter put over it (the daylight shadowing gave that away). If you, the director, were trying to go for an authentic historic feel of showing how "dark" it would have been at night in a drawing room during Regency England, you not only succeeded, you nailed it. And I loved that you wanted to be true to history. I loved that! Unfortunately, if you put stilted scenes with dark scenes...well...the result were painful. There were times I was squinting to see what was going on.<br />
2.) The music overpowered people's conversations (ballroom scenes). I'm not hard of hearing but I sure felt like it. I shouldn't feel as if I missed conversations because of music... *waving fan frantically*<br />
3.) Right after the AWESOME opening scene with Mr. Darcy, we are taken through a quick history of England to catch us up to speed on the 'plague'. That introduction could have been taken to great heights but instead fell to great lows because you used cheaply drawn paper dolls to tell the story, as opposed to giving us scenes that would have elevated our investment into the story. A simple fix would have been to SHOW what was being discussed in quick glimpses as opposed to...well...TELLING. Even in a book, you don't tell your audience, you SHOW them. So for a movie...it was a death knell and here we are barely 10 minutes into the movie...<br />
4.) Mr. Bennet is one of the strongest characters in Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, and yet you only gave the man 3 or 4 lines in the entire movie. He did not exist as a character. *sobbing* Talk about a failure on your part to no understand the story of Pride and Prejudice. Even the book, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, stayed true to what Austen wrote (because he um...plagiarized her word for word). Yet you didn't bother to do anything with Mr. Bennet? How do you explain how kick ass the Bennet girls became? It wasn't thanks to "Mama" but rather "Papa". So much for male perspective and social commentary. Mr. Bennet sent those girls to become warriors and we aren't even privy to getting to know this magnificent man.<br />
5.) We never see the girls becoming warriors. We just see them already "being". So we didn't get a chance to grow with them, which led us to being completely disconnected.<br />
6.) The love story between Mr. Bingley and Jane had no time to develop and felt thrown in. Partly because they danced once together and gaped at each other in passing and that's it. The actress who played Jane was the weakest out of all the actors in this film. While Jane is supposed to be "shy" it just came across as bad acting (and mind you, she was a GREAT actor!). So when Mr. Bingley leaves, we don't feel the impact of his leaving at all. *heaving bosom*<br />
7.) In the beginning, you establish that the zombie infestation is under control, but for some reason, they were "magically" popping up at every "secured" event we were at. Um...teacher...I'm confused.<br />
8.) There weren't enough scenes and interaction between Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet to make me feel like they actually fell in love. We were so busy fighting zombies, we forgot to build a relationship.<br />
9.) This movie tried to replicate iconic scenes from the original Pride and Prejudice but failed miserably. You basically cut and pasted random things in to say "My name is Pride and Prejudice" when in fact you were saying "I like being random" Take for instance...The iconic swimming scene with Mr. Darcy. After an action scene we break to calm pond. No introduction to where we were or why. Then Mr. Darcy randomly jumps into the water and...that's it. Nothing else comes of it. We don't even get WHY he jumped into the water and we didn't even know whose property he was on. His? Bingley's? Bennet's? We never saw Mr. Darcy in his own house, in his own realm, with his sister, we never see Mr. Darcy's personal life at all. Which lead us into not caring about him at all. *sobbing* I wanted to care so much. It's Mr. Darcy for pity's sake!<br />
10.) The 4 horsemen. You introduce us to something magnificent and show us Mr. Collins explaining what he knows best: the bible. YES, YES, YES!! And then...you never explain it and you never touch it again. Bye, bye. If this is your way of saying we have to wait for Part 2, I may just have to spank you because I'm not paying to see Part 2 unless you let me help you with the script.<br />
11.) The ending. It made no sense. Someone was supposed to be dead. But you never showed us how Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth took care of that situation or got out of said situation with someone who was supposed to be dead. So I'm...confused?<br />
12.) What was up with Mr. Darcy's voice?<br />
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Bottom line, I'm sobbing. I'm sobbing because I wanted to love this movie SO much. I wanted people to see historical romance at its finest while doing comedy and horror. Because it never gets any attention from the public. As a director, you have a gift. As a writer, you're still growing. I'm not a Jane Austen purist given what I write...BUT...I went to this movie in the hopes of a story. I got eye candy and then I got...detached. When a historical romance author is detached during an apocalypse, all that's left for her to do is grab her smelling salts and find a fainting couch to lay on.<br />
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THAT SAID, everyone should still see the movie just for the opening scene. It's worth $10 for the opening scene, the costuming, the acting, and in particular, watching Mr. Collins.<br />
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Yours Truly,<br />
Delilah Marvelle <br />
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<br />Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-59050095717669559302015-11-29T14:49:00.000-08:002015-11-29T14:52:02.655-08:00The Historical Romance RetreatMy Dearest Reader,<br />
I don't know about you, but I'm all about history. Aside from reading it, writing it, traveling to locations to explore it, I'm also obsessed with collecting artifacts no one wants to touch (like chastity belts) and historical pieces like jewelry and gowns. Of course, if I were to wear said jewelry and gowns and chastity belts in public people would think I was crazy (not that I care THAT much...heh), BUT...imagine being able to go to a historical site and wear said gowns and jewelry and chastity belt without anyone thinking you're weird. In fact, you'd be weird if you showed up in jeans. That's right, people. It's happening and Bestselling Historical Romance author, Renee Bernard and I are bringing it to the world!<br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.historicalromanceretreat.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;"><b>THE HISTORICAL ROMANCE RETREAT</b></span></a> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">is a 4 day event you don't want to miss!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">SEPTEMBER 22-25th, 2016</span></div>
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We're stepping back in time with over 2 dozen of your favorite historical romance authors </div>
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and are going to party at the Davenport like it's 1699 or 1799 or 1899. </div>
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Whatever era you want to come dressed in!</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">LOCATED IN SPOKANE, WASHINGTON</span></b> and hosted at the historic <a href="http://www.davenporthotelcollection.com/our-hotels/the-historic-davenport-hotel/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;"><b>5 star Davenport Hotel</b></span></a> built in 1914, where Bing Crosby, Amelia Earhart, Babe Ruth, Theodore Roosevelt, John F. Kennedy, Harry Truman, William Taft and more stayed! </div>
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For years, the hotel kept the incredible tradition of never letting the fire </div>
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die out in the lobby hearth, whether it was summer or winter. </div>
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They also kept the tradition of washing the coins every night as they received them. </div>
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Historic hotel practices that have long since been forgotten with our modern era.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">WHAT CAN YOU EXPECT?</span></div>
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*Mingle with your favorite authors all four days!</div>
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*Travel back to 1931 for a movie night in an authentic 1931 theatre gone flapper.</div>
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*Historical Food at every event. Try things Jane Austen would have eaten!</div>
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*Gaming Hell Night, featuring historic games and prizes you don't want to miss.</div>
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*Absinthe Party, discover the history and why it was the drink of choice since the 1840's.</div>
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*Massive book signing with over two dozen historical romance authors.</div>
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*Author chats, the grand ball, surprise guests and more!</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sign up before the Early Bird Special Ends!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Limited to only 300 attendees!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: blue; font-size: large;"><b><a href="http://www.historicalromanceretreat.com/" target="_blank">www.HistoricalRomanceRetreat.com </a></b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: red; font-size: x-large;">HOPE TO SEE YOU ALL THERE in 2016!</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: white;">Cheers and Much love,</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: white;">Delilah Marvelle</span></span></div>
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Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-55213394532750819932015-04-04T13:54:00.001-07:002015-04-09T15:25:22.355-07:00Authors aren't the only ones being plagiarized<i><b>UPDATE</b>: As of 04/06/2015 the blogger referred to in this post has had their blogger account deleted and all reviews taken down with it. Her response regarding her snatched reviews? Her 'cousin' apparently took over her account and forged everything. Ehm. Yeah. I guess once an idiot, always an idiot. Blame it on the poor cousin... </i><br />
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My dearest Authors and Reviewers,<br />
We, as authors, have a very close and very complicated relationship with reviewers. Reviewers enable our books to be discovered in the chaos of the vast Internet world. Those reviews can make an author giddy with joy (someone loves me!) or cry in pain (someone hates me!). Whatever your perspective on the relationship between authors and reviewers, there is one thing that binds us: our honesty about our love for books.<br />
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So what happens when that honesty is violated between reviewers? Allow me to vent and lay out what just happened and why it needs to be addressed.<br />
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A few weeks ago, I was contacted by a reviewer in Portugal requesting a copy of one of my books. Nothing unusual. It is always at the discretion of an author whether they want to trust/spend the money to do so. It could be a scam, but I am a firm believer that when a reviewer goes out of their way to contact an author, an author should make the time to honor that request. Because there is one universal truth about reviewers. They are doing it for the love of books and most do not get paid a single penny for their love. So it is my way of returning their passion for books by giving them a copy. It doesn't matter what the review outcome is. All that matters is that a reviewer took a chance on my book. It is their precious time. Much like my writing is to me, reading is to them.<br />
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So what happens when a reviewer decides to violate <b><i>ANOTHER</i></b> reviewer? *gape time* That's right. I'm not talking about author/reviewer relationships anymore or how some have spiraled out of control because neither side is willing to be gracious. I'm also not talking about the scam of taking a book and never reviewing it. I'm talking about a reviewer violating another reviewer by plagiarizing another reviewer's review. Are you still with me?!<br />
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These are the clues that started coming together as to what had actually happened:<br />
-I was contacted by a reviewer from Portugal who had a blogger website listing beautifully well worded English reviews.<br />
-The reviewer from Portugal who contacted me spoke very choppy English. Her emails were like reading Google Translate on crack. Hm.<br />
-The reviewer from Portugal contacts me to say she received said book, still in choppy English. Okay.<br />
-A week later, she sends me a link of a beautifully written review for Once Upon a Scandal. Double hm and something doesn't feel right.<br />
-So I had a friend help me find a plagiarism checker online (<a href="http://www.duplichecker.com/" target="_blank">Duplichecker</a>) and it appears my review for Once Upon a Scandal was lifted word for word from <b><i>ANOTHER</i></b> reviewer's blog. And it wasn't just for my book. She was lifting reviews left and right for countless other books when further digging was done.<br />
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My jaw dropped and I started seething. Holy shit. Because we always talk about books being plagiarized, but we never talk about a reviewer's own words being plagiarized. Never mind that I got screwed out of money or getting a real review, what about the reviewer whose words were lifted word for word? The time she/he put in for the love of what they do. Their passion is being used for the gain of another who just wants to read a book but is too fucking lazy to even sit down and write the review. So she snatches it from others.<br />
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Some of the reviewers were already contacted about the plagiarism and it is my hope that her site gets shut down by blogger. Blogger is being contacted and they will hopefully address this.<br />
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Needless to say, I want reviewers to do the following things:<br />
-Make sure on your site, you have a copyright statement.<br />
-Make sure you have a contact on your site so when others find something to report to you, you can be contacted (it was difficult contacting some of you!).<br />
-Do random checks of your reviews (especially older ones) by running through a plagiarism checker.<br />
-If you feel your reviews are being lifted by another reviewer, contact blogger or wordpress and have that sucker taken down.<br />
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Bottom line, I'm being the bigger person and not posting this reviewer's blog BUT if her website isn't shut down by blogger in the next few weeks...her ass has been warned. It's <b><i>WRONG</i></b>.<br />
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*This shout out is for all reviewers who work so hard to share their love of books. We authors love you because you put your love into YOUR words. Not someone else's.<br />
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Yours Truly,<br />
Delilah Marvelle<br />
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<br />Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-51311071338559437962014-02-12T01:34:00.000-08:002014-02-12T07:27:52.316-08:00An Open Letter to my agent Donald MaassSo last month, the CEO of Kensington (my first publisher) had made comments about the self-publishing industry that I felt needed to be addressed. And this month, it would seem I'm 2 for 2 on the self-publishing debate given that my own agent has also stepped into the arena looking to take a swing in the self-publishing industry. (I would like to point out that Donald Maass did NOT represent me in my Kensington contracts, for those of you who were wondering.)<br />
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This is my open letter to my agent after he had posted to <a href="http://writerunboxed.com/2014/02/05/the-new-class-system/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Writer Unboxed</span></a>. He was rather well addressed over at Joe Konrath's blog where Joe aptly named it <a href="http://jakonrath.blogspot.com/2014/02/fisking-donald-maas.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Fisking Donald Maass</span></a>. I don't think I need to add anything to what was said. What I'll be addressing is the side few readers and unpublished authors get to see. The real relationship between a writer and their agent.<br />
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Dear Donald Maass,<br />
So last week, I was attending a fabulous Indie "Unconference" in San Francisco, learning more about the self-publishing business I'm in, and meeting tons of great professional people, when I stumbled across your blog called The New Class System. Fortunately, I had stumbled on it prior to the event because I was repeatedly asked by other indie authors face to face what I thought of your post given, well...um...you're <strong>MY</strong> agent and um...I'm self-publishing. It was an awkward position to be put in. After all, I've spent more than a few years getting to know you, your business, your model, your craft and what makes you the success that you are. I loved working with you and implementing your ideas and strategies of how to not only step out of the box, but smash it.<br />
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Not surprisingly, people had a lot to say about your post. But few (if any) who commented are actually represented by you. They responded to your post with two fists without realizing that you encouraged me to take up self-publishing and explore a world that I was too damn scared to venture into. You supported my decision to self-publish knowing that a.) you wouldn't see any money from what I was doing and b.) that I was walking away from a three book contract with Harlequin. Does this sound like a guy who believes there's a new class system being created? Or were you knowingly letting me get on Freight Class? (I'm being cheeky here, Don). <br />
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The class system you describe did surprise me. Because I think you're over-generalizing self-publishing by listing it as simple Freight Class and you know it. I've been in Coach, Don. You helped me get there. You did everything to ensure I was a success in Coach even though the seats weren't as comfortable as I thought they were going to be. But I stayed in my seat. Because I knew that by staying in my seat, the conductor would come around and eventually look at me and say, "You look like you should be sitting in First Class." Unfortunately, that conductor never gave me a second glance, no matter how many times you tried to wave that asshole down for me. In fact, the conductor took it upon himself to leave a window wide open, allowing eight of my books to fly out the window at a digital rate of 8% that I know I should have never signed. It was a digital rate you yourself didn't agree with, but we were dealing with Harlequin and I was told they don't negotiate their digital rates. And if Donald Maass can't negotiate a better deal for me, who could?<br />
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But here is the one thing that made you stand out as an agent, even after I've been through 4 others. The one thing that I believe will continue to make you successful regardless of how the publishing industry changes. That although high winds were blowing in Coach Class through that open window and I couldn't hold onto my thoughts or my words or my clothes, you held my hand and kept my thoughts focused on what mattered most: the writing. I learned SO much sitting in Coach Class there with you. I learned to be a better writer because of you and I learned to challenge myself because of you. To me, THAT is what made you earn your 15%. What author can say that or more about their agent? My experience says very, very few. When I finally had the guts to get up from my seat because I knew First Class wasn't going to be in my future for at least another 10 years, you helped direct me to what you now call Freight Class.<br />
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I have to say, Freight Class is awesome. No one left the window open back here. The seats are bouncy and let me swivel any way I want so I can write and deliver the books in any way I want. And the conductor isn't sticking his nose in on my business telling me what I can and can't write. It's soooo nice. I guess what you're not seeing is that I learned to appreciate the wonders and the joys of Freight Class after being stuck in Coach Class for so long. I'm loving it back here and I kinda wish you'd actually rename all the classes. Because the people in Freight Class deserve more respect. And let me tell you why.<br />
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Once upon a time, traditional publishers and agents defined what went on the shelf. In the gatekeeping industry, a traditionally published author had to please only a few people to get on that shelf: their agent and a core group of editors within the publishing house. If it didn't please those core group of people, a rifle was taken out and the book was shot dead on the spot and buried on the side of the Railroad tracks our Class System train is zipping by. Unlike Coach and First Class who are confined to this way of thinking, the bar has been officially set higher by those in Freight Class. You heard me. Higher. Because we, in Freight Class, have to please more than just a few people. We have to please THOUSANDS and we have to do it all upfront and on our own. <br />
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The cold reality is that readers are the new gatekeepers. They aren't the agents, they aren't the editors, and they most certainly aren't the publishing houses. The readers pay for an author's ticket to stay on the train, regardless of what class system they're sitting in. They've always been the gatekeepers, but for some reason, a core group of people in New York decided that their control of the industry held more weight than that of readers and authors.<br />
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These single-minded group of agents, editors and publishers surprisingly share a similar core and history with the same group of people who told Charles Dickens he was a loser for supporting International Copyright Laws because he wanted to get paid. Imagine that. We don't know any of the big wig names belonging to those core of people from the publishing industry who told Charles Dickens he was a loser, but guess what? We sure as hell know the name Charles Dickens. And that's something the publishing industry is forgetting. Believe it or not, Charles Dickens started out in Freight Class, too. Because he didn't print his stories in the traditional way writers were expected to in his era (books). He originally printed his stories through periodicals, which was a quick and very inexpensive way to get his stories into the hands of thousands (wow, sounds like a Kobo, Kindle or Nook) as opposed to a select few who could barely afford books (hardbacks come to mind).<br />
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Regardless of the class system a writer is put into by an agent or a publisher, ultimately, you and I both know that it's the reader who decides who is going to stay on the train and who is going to get off. And while I believe you aren't knocking the self-publishing industry, given the incredible and wonderful support you have given me, I'm rather liking the idea that I'm sitting here in the same class system similar to what Charles Dickens once hung out in. Being innovative, progressive and dedicated to craft all at an affordable price the masses can afford.<br />
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In closing, self-publishing is a lot of hard work, yes, but let's not fool ourselves into saying that the work-load is any different when under a publisher's wing. In fact, the amount of work I did while with New York prepared me to take on self-publishing without any problem. Because my New York publisher never created my website, they never took on my Facebook, they never took on my Twitter, they never promoted my blog, and they never provided me any guidance on how to brand myself. Everything I did, I did on my own all while writing my books. All of this was done while under a publisher's wing, or more aptly, while hanging from the feather of a bird who can't even share my digital numbers.<br />
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Best,<br />
Delilah Marvelle AKA Freight Class Ticket Holder<br />
<br />Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-3277188939540845002014-01-20T09:16:00.000-08:002014-01-22T05:27:56.240-08:00An Open Letter to the CEO of Kensington Publishing Corp.While this blog is usually dedicated to the history of sex, this post will be dedicated to a different sort of history that eventually allowed me to publish and write about historical sex.<br />
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The following is my response to an open invitation by Mr. Zacharius, the President and CEO of Kensington Publishing Corp, made after he posted an article to <span id="goog_575942451"></span><a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/steven-zacharius/selfpublishing-the-myth-a_b_4453815.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">Huffington Post</span></a>
and then posted comments on <a href="http://www.thepassivevoice.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">The Passive Voice</span></a>. The idea behind my post is to share my experience and educate.
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Dear Mr. Zacharius, President and CEO
of Kensington Publishing Corp.,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My name is Delilah Marvelle and I
write historical romance. After writing 40 manuscripts and receiving over 200
rejections letters from the publishing industry over the course of 11 long years
well before the digital revolution, Kensington was the first and only publisher
to give this author a chance given the edgier and racier content of my stories.
Kensington took a chance with an author that the rest of the industry brushed
aside. I firmly believe, I would not be where I am today, as a writer, if it
were not for Kensington giving me an opportunity to be part of the industry.
And I thank you and all of Kensington, including and especially John
Scognomiglio for putting me into the hands of readers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">That said, I would like to open up the
discussion about traditional publishing that you and most of the American
population may not be aware of. And that is the history of our publishing industry
that made it into what it is today. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Back in 1842, a rising star of the
writing world known as none other than Charles Dickens, came to the United
States with an open plea and a stance regarding American publishers to favor
International Copyright laws. Why? Because American publishers weren’t paying
ANY royalties on imported manuscripts to authors. None. Zero. All copies
imported by New York publishers were pirated and every penny was pocketed. Have
you ever wondered why all the print publishers were historically living on the
east coast? So they could hop on a ship and buy up copies of books in England
that they then brought back to the States so they could make a huge profit that
no author would ever see. Needless to say, American publishers were *astounded*
that a popular author would come into their country and educate them on their
business practices. What did HE know about the industry of publishing? He was
just an author. They tried to intimidate and silence him, telling him he was
being “petty and self-serving and undemocratic” by speaking out against their
business despite the fact that supporting International Copyright Law would
have put more money into the pockets of American authors.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">This is the history of New York
Publishing. To pay no royalties unless required by law. And in my eyes, not
much of New York has changed. This mentality of not discussing the business has
been ingrained in the old school brain of every publisher going back to 1842. They
intimidated authors into not discussing their contracts, their numbers or their
rights. Why? Because if they started discussing the details, the authors might
actually realize that they were being financially raped. The services that you,
as CEO, boast about (which are hardly unique to the publishing world) comes to
an author at an obnoxious price no publisher in New York is willing to discuss.
Should ANY publisher get more than half the profits of an author’s work? Are
you saying you do more work than, I, as an author, do and that your services
are worth more than the content of the book itself? No. I’m sorry. I don’t
think so.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The traditional publishing industry
has created a hostile environment in which an author is the outsider from
beginning to end. Because if I, as an author want more information about
royalties or outside contracts (like the one Kensington signed with Scribd),
not only did Kensington refuse to share those contracts with me, even though my
books are being included in those contracts, I need lawyers and auditors to get
anywhere. Does that sound like we’re in business together?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I guess my biggest concern in all of
this is knowing that the CEO of Kensington is going online to “talk” about the
“realities” of self-publishing, when in fact, Kensington is not a self-publishing
expert (obviously). And why was it back in 2011, when RWA had its conference in
NYC and the big 6 (at the time) were on a panel discussing the industry with
PASIC, the big 6 barred Amazon from even being in the room to listen to their
panel? We know why. Self-publishing is a threat to the traditional way of
publishing. It’s the first time in HISTORY authors are actually making the
money they deserve. No, not millions, Mr. Zacharius, but above minimum wage.
And THAT is the “reality” of self-publishing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Delilah Marvelle</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="http://www.delilahmarvelle.com/">www.DelilahMarvelle.com</a></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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UPDATED RESPONSE TO STEVEN. THANK YOU FOR YOUR RESPONSE!<br />
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STEVEN: *Authors enter into a contract, quite often with an agent who represents their behalf. No one is forcing them to enter this contract. I believe that contracts are a personal matter between the author and the publisher.* <br />
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DELILAH: When I signed my contract back in 2007, even with an agent on my side, I was unable to change any of the percentages in my contract because (as the publishers and agents go on to say even today), it’s a “standard” contract. Your suggestion that contracts are personal when we, as authors, are told by agents and publishers alike that it’s a “standard” contract, leads me to believe that the contract isn’t THAT personal.<br />
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STEVEN: * I don't see musicians talking about their contracts in an open forum either.*<br />
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DELILAH: I think musicians talk a lot more than you think. They talk about the same things we authors are talking about. How we don’t get paid what we’re due and how the contracts are in the favor of everyone but the author/musician. I’ll just give you one link to look at, but there is a mass amount of discussions out there. Sadly, the creative industry is notorious for taking advantage of an artist’s need to be seen. <a href="http://bit.ly/LIQxL6">http://bit.ly/LIQxL6</a> <br />
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STEVEN: * I don't know how you're coming up with the fact that the publisher is getting more than you're making. I can't tell you how many contracts we have where the author ends up making far more than we do. The higher the advance the more likelihood this has of happening.*<br />
DELILAH: I know that you aren’t referring to me. In fact, your example of where the publisher would make less does not apply to me. And I strongly believe you are not talking about most of your authors. Let’s get into some quick specifics on me and Kensington. <br />
1.) For every electronic book that Kensington sells of mine, they make three times the money I do. If I get .25, Kensington gets .75. (Keep in mind that my digital sales are higher than my print sales).<br />
2.) I know what my percentage is, but what I don’t know is what your percentage is. At no point has Kensington ever shared how much it actually profits from my books. I would love to know. And if you feel I don’t need to know then it’s hard to validate your claim that you’re the last in line to get paid. I would *love* to hear the core numbers of what Kensington has made off my book in comparison to what I have made. Put it here or email it to me with a disclosure. I’m thinking, however, that it won’t ever be disclosed. Why? Because what author would be happy to learn that their publisher was making far more on each book sold than the author who wrote it. The other thing you haven’t addressed is the time of payment. As a self-published author, I’m getting paid monthly. Kensington pays me once every six months on year old sales. I have not seen any interest paid to me for the money that sits in the bank over that six month duration.<br />
3.) As a self-published author, and a traditionally published author, I have the luxury to compare the two. In my School of Gallantry series, I only need to sell 1 copy of my self-published Lady of Pleasure, to equal 7 electronic copies of my Kensington books in the same series. The key point being I don’t even need to be as good at marketing to break even as a self-published author.<br />
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STEVEN: *I don't think we have created a hostile environment at all. Anyone who has ever asked me a question that I feel can be answered publicly, I have done so. I have no secrets about our deal with Scribd and if you had a question, you could call or email me. I have said publicly that the author is getting their FULL royalty due on any book read from Scribd once the reader goes past a small browsing percentage of the book. The deals are the same as with other subscription services.*<br />
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DELILAH: The attitude, which I admire you for publicly expressing, needs to trickle down to the rest of your staff and business practices. Because when I contacted Kensington a few weeks ago, they told me a.) I couldn’t see the Scribd contract b.) I couldn’t be given any other contract details other than that I would be paid my regular royalties. I would hope I’m getting my FULL royalties given I gave you the rights to do so. Because as of right now, here’s how it stands. When those contracts aren’t being shared with me, even though it involves the rights of my book, I’m supposed to just take your word that the deal is what it should be. Give me a legal document that tells me what I’m getting, who signed what and why. Don’t tell me I’m getting a full royalty. Show me. Because while I genuinely wish to believe you, Steven, in the world of business, a handshake isn’t enough. It has to be put into writing. I would love to see the Scribd contract, even if it means I get a disclosure saying I can’t share it with anyone. I’m fine with not sharing it with anyone. What I’m not fine with is not knowing what was in that contract. And that applies to all of the contracts Kensington has signed for me, including foreign rights and audible rights. I’d like to see them. I haven’t seen a single one. What’s frustrating for me as an author is that even with two agents, I can’t get anyone at Kensington to further address this. This is sadly, not unique to Kensington. This is the “standard” way of dealing with authors in the industry.<br />
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STEVEN: *You are telling everyone that you need lawyers and auditors to get answers. That is simply not true. If you or any author has a question about a royalty statement we are happy to provide answers without you having to hire an experts that will cost you money.*<br />
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DELILAH: When an author asks for a breakdown of where sales are digitally coming from (in other words Amazon or Kobo), Kensington has not been able to provide that. In fact, it refuses to. So I don’t know how many copies I’ve sold digitally to what store. All it shows in my royalty statement is GROSS UNITS. And nothing more. And if I want to ensure those numbers are right, I’m sorry, but it does cost me money. Because the only way I can *ensure* the numbers Kensington is giving me are correct is by taking it to the auditor because as all authors know royalty statements are notorious for obfuscating information. And that’s me speaking of royalty statements in the most positive light possible.<br />
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STEVEN: *I never claimed to be an expert on self-publishing. I got pulled into the conversation and just expressed my opinion which basically is that there is a very small percentage of people who are making any real money by self-publishing.*<br />
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DELILAH: I think when you speak for the publishing industry, while using your CEO name, it becomes more than just an opinion. Tossing out what you think is an opinion about “self-publishing” and using polls that clearly don’t encompass the majority of the self-publishing industry, is giving misinformation to unpublished authors who don’t know anything about either business. And that, to me, is wrong. Especially because it’s pretty obvious you aren’t speaking too favorably about the self-publishing industry. Which is a shame, because many of your own Kensington authors have gone on to self-publish, including myself, and have made more money doing it.<br />
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STEVEN:*And please don't going saying as a generality that authors were making only minimum wage before. That's simply not true.*<br />
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DELILAH: And this is where you’re wrong. Is it a generality to say that authors are making only minimum wage? No and no. It’s not. Out of the HUNDREDS of authors that I know through RWA, given I have been part of RWA since 1996, very few have been able to stay at home full time writing. When my husband landed his dream job but couldn’t take it because I landed mine, he made a hard choice that cost him an opportunity he will never get. We couldn’t afford for him to take his dream job given how much money it took to maintain my writing. Even though I was writing 3 books a year, my wage as an author (I broke down my hours) was $1.23 an hour. Not even minimum wage. And my story represents so many others who don’t have the courage to talk about it like I do. I would also like to share my personal story with my dealings with Kensington. I was one of the first Kensington authors to speak up back in 2009, when I lost my contract, not due to lack of sales (I sold out my print run in less than 8 months) but because they were closing a line (Zebra debut) that Kensington just didn't have the guts to openly announce. But what did Kensington do? It made authors like me believe my sales were too dismal to support. I guess selling out of my print run is dismal in the eyes of a publisher. Unlike many authors, I didn’t quit. I went on to publish somewhere else.<br />
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The bottom line is this: Kensington is competing with companies like Google, Apple and Amazon who have billions of dollars in capital for investment. Your only investment is your authors. Why destroy that by not giving authors the one thing that they want? 50/50. If Kensington or any other publisher in New York cannot give authors a 50/50 split due to their “costs” which New York cannot cover, then I really don’t see this ending well for Traditional Publishing industry. And that’s something that is hard for even me to swallow because my first and only dream coming into this business was to be published with New York. <br />
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If you would like to continue this conversation in private so we may discuss other details that you may not feel comfortable sharing in public, please email me at <a href="mailto:Delilah@DelilahMarvelle.com">Delilah@DelilahMarvelle.com</a>Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com49tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-86097993714728658232013-02-01T08:50:00.001-08:002013-02-01T08:53:22.824-08:00Frued's idea of orgasm<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyLKx8AcjBQyCgNOuWzOgR6a7Db0jFc2_jMU5UdjHgTOohQDlxH8YZaHbopxf5zi8-YVDxYAffivUrmE6OvEN_5ZkmDXODZQbQCIyNQdU5KCXYVA0NGib1t1n6j26AdVVPcLDGMNVO9utm/s1600/Sigmund-Freud.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyLKx8AcjBQyCgNOuWzOgR6a7Db0jFc2_jMU5UdjHgTOohQDlxH8YZaHbopxf5zi8-YVDxYAffivUrmE6OvEN_5ZkmDXODZQbQCIyNQdU5KCXYVA0NGib1t1n6j26AdVVPcLDGMNVO9utm/s320/Sigmund-Freud.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
My dearest Readers,<br />
Happy Valentine's day month to you! In honor of the glorious month, I thought we host a very special guest who knows about as much about the sordid goings on in history as I do! And in honor of her post, we will be giving away 3 digital copies of her Victorian historical romance, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Dark-Lady-Passions-ebook/dp/B008BM4N0W/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1359736761&sr=8-1&keywords=maire+claremont" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;"><strong>THE DARK LADY</strong></span></a>. Please read her post and leave a comment about the post with your email address for your chance to win! Winners will be chosen and contacted on Feb. 28th.<br />
Without further ado, I give thee Máire
Claremont. <br />
Much love,<br />
Delilah Marvelle<br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">It’s so exciting to be on Delilah’s Blog. I have so much
admiration for her work on exposing sex in history. Now, two of my very
favorite subjects in Victorian sex are Hysteria and. . . Well, wait I will keep
the other one a secret for a moment. Delilah has already done the most
MARVELOUS blog on <a href="http://www.delilahmarvelle.blogspot.com/2012/10/hysteria-and-vibrator.html" target="_blank">Hysteria</a>. You must read it. But the topic does suggest that
there was a huge divide in psychology and female sexuality at the time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">The Hysteria issue allowed women to be “stimulated” through the
clitoris to give them medical help to ease their anxiety and tension. . .
though it wasn’t considered sexual.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">My topic however deals with one of the big thinkers of the time.
A mover. A shaker. Someone still mentioned in the hallowed halls of psychology
today. Sigmund Freud.</span><o:p><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"> </span></o:p><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Okay, kids. Are you ready for it? Let’s talk about the immature
and mature orgasm. Wooo. Freud firmly believed that women who experienced
orgasms through the clitoris were experiencing immature and infantile sexual
pleasure. A mature woman experienced orgasm through penetration and penetration
alone. Yes. You read right. Your fella just had to stick it in and if you were
a mature woman? Oh, bliss. If not? You were riddled with problems and still a
little girl. </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Right. . .</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">So, Freud firmly proposed that as a woman matured her ability to
orgasm transferred from the clitoris to the vaginal canal. And get this, any
woman who persisted in experience orgasm through the clitoris was suffering
from. . . Wait for it. . . Penis envy. Yep. Penis envy. Because she insisted on
experiencing pleasure from her EXTERNAL sex organ, she was envious of the man’s
sexual organ, the penis. After all, she was supposed to relish the passivity of
her INTERNAL organ being penetrated. Women are supposed to be passive, or
didn’t you know? {pardon while I die laughing}</span><o:p><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"> </span></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">But truly, this was a very serious thing in the medical and
psychological field of the day. A woman who needed clitoral stimulation was
suffering from a mental illness. She was immature, infantile, in need of
serious help and psycho analysis. Today, we find this laughable. Then,
countless women were bereft and at the whim of a budding medical field that
dealt with supposition rather than fact.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Can you imagine living in this world?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">A woman would be
considered mentally at risk by preferring clitoral stimulation. And that
preference would get her in some serious trouble or at least gain her months of
analysis. You have to wonder how many women just started faking it so they
could cease therapy. Many, I should think. I would. I mean, who really wants a
man telling you about your body and how you SHOULD respond to foreplay. . . Oh,
wait, I’m sorry. I mean the lack there of. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">And consider the man’s mentality. This idea completely freed him
from the need to pleasure his wife/woman in any other way but penetration
because to do so would be bad for her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Yes. Bad for her. And not only that, it meant something was WRONG
with her. Under Freud’s theory, he’d be encouraging her mental illness and
malformed development by performing oral sex or any other sort of fun stuff.
Men already struggled {struggle?} to understand the clitoris. Freud basically
gave them a get out of jail pass. She can’t come from penetration? She’s
mentally ill. Oi.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Ironically, variations of this theory persisted for a hundred
years. Sure, Freud’s mommy and daddy complexes give food for a lot of thought
and some of it immensely valid, but I don’t think I shall ever forgive him for
so disparaging that glorious organ, capable of reaching climax again, and
again, and again, the clitoris.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Poor Victorian women. Between Hysteria and Freud, what a mess it
was. I thank goodness I live in an era where the clitoris is hailed. Thoughts? Questions? Bring it on for your chance to win a copy of my book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Dark-Lady-Passions-ebook/dp/B008BM4N0W/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1359736761&sr=8-1&keywords=maire+claremont" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;"><strong>The Dark Lady</strong></span></a>!</span></div>
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Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-51639738069951957642013-01-01T01:00:00.000-08:002013-01-01T01:00:11.982-08:00Historical Romance Book Club for Men<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
My Dearest Reader,</div>
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Happy New Year and hello 2013! </div>
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We have yet another year of educational naughtiness ahead of us. I have a few upcoming surprises that will start this summer. I am about to give A BIT O'MUSLIN an exciting new twist. I won't share the details of the makeover quite yet, but let me say, you'll have a grand time with it. Because I'm on vacation (and under deadline), I won't be doing a post this month, BUT, I am sharing a very special video with you called <strong>'Historical Romance Book Club for Men'</strong> which I am quite certain will entertain all you dirty minded people. Enjoy and Happy New Year!</div>
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Much love and until next time,</div>
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Delilah Marvelle</div>
Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-25741824750201133672012-12-01T13:03:00.003-08:002012-12-01T13:03:43.836-08:00Venus in Furs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My dearest Readers,<br />
There are many words we use today in which we don't even think about as to why we use them or where the heck they came from. I'm going to explore that today. "Masochism" is one of those words people use left and right to define people who in plain terms like to be treated like shit. We know what it means, but where did the term come from? Just as 'sadism' came from Marquis de Sade due to his works and quirks and private life gone wild, masochism found its way from a quiet gentleman named Leopold von Sacher-Masoch.<br />
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Born in 1836 in the city of Lemberg in the Kingdom of Galicia, which at the time was part of the Austrian Empire (now the Ukraine), he grew up fascinated by law and history and went on to be a professor. Very educated, he lead what people thought was a simple, quiet life. Until he retired from being a professor and turned his full attention to writing books. At first, his books were respectable stories relating to cultural histories that he became known for and respected for. He must have gotten bored. Or rather, he must have gotten bored of hiding who he really was. <br />
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In 1869, he started publishing short stories known as The Legacy of Cain. He abandoned completing the collection of stories, but had created one story in particular that to this day made him incredibly famous and well known. The story was called Venus in Furs. It explores Masoch's fetishes. Black furs, black silk, knives, whips and confessions of a 'supersensual man' who wanted to be a slave to a woman. The word "donkey" defined who he was. He was waiting to be ridden by his master. It isn't merely about physical submission but mental submission.<br />
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In reading Venus in Furs, you might expect 50 Shades of Grey. Not so. It's a philosophical, yet romantic approach to a man fully submitting to a woman. Quotes like "To be a slave of a woman, a beautiful woman, whom I love, whom I worship" is the premise of Venus in Furs. <br />
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Yet it's pretty obvious more than romantic philosophies line these pages.<br />
I picked my favorite part from Venus in Furs just to demonstrate: <br />
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<strong>Today she suddenly took her hat and shawl, and I had to shopping with her. She looked at whips, long whips with a short handle, the kind that are used on dogs.</strong><br />
<strong>"Are these satisfactory?" said the shopkeeper.</strong><br />
<strong>"No, they are much too small," replied Wanda, with a side-glance at me. "I need a large--"</strong><br />
<strong>"For a bull dog, I suppose?" opined the merchant.</strong><br />
<strong>"Yes," she exclaimed, "of the kind that are used in Russia for intractable slaves."</strong><br />
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Curious? Want to read it? I recommend you download it for free from Amazon. It's a quick read and nothing like you'd expect. It's historical confectionery masochism. And it's hard to believe the word came from this odd little man.<br />
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Needless to say, in Leopold's private life, he was, in fact, living out his fantasies and festishes. He signed a contract with his mistress known as "Baroness" Fanny which made him a slave to her for six full months. He was at her cruel bidding of each hour of each day. His only request was that she had to wear furs (which he bought for her). Even better? Whenever he traveled with his "mistress," he wore servant's clothing and took on a common name. It was "Gregor" this and "Gregor" that. Believe it or not, Leopold eventually married. Not his "mistress" but a woman who had no idea what the hell she was getting into. He made her live out all of the fantasies she wasn't into. All the poor man wanted was his wife to be his master. But I'm certain it was more work than she had anticipated. He eventually got bored of her, given she wasn't cooperating, and divorced her. <br />
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Believe it or not, the term 'masochism' came to be used when Leopold was still alive, back in 1886, by a psychiatrist. Apparently, Leopold wasn't pleased but given his character, I'm certain the humiliation was one he secretly savored. His so-called private life became further exposed when his ex-wife decided to write a memoir about their lives together. They were detailed and to the point. It grounded the term 'masochism' in the minds of everyone permanently. Think on that the next time you use the term 'masochist.' Think of poor Leopold being sized up by his ex-wife and a psychiatrist...<br />
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Until next time,<br />
Delilah Marvelle<br />
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<br />Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-77510430523742979422012-11-01T13:13:00.001-07:002012-11-01T13:13:42.424-07:00Leather Archives & Museum<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My dearest Reader,<br />
In Chicago, there is an incredible S&M museum that lays hidden from the world. It's known as LA&M (The Leather Archives & Museum). Having lived in Chicago for almost 20 years, I had no idea this gem of a museum existed until recently. I happened upon it quite accidentally. I was looking into sex museums within certain regions. Why? I was running a contest in which one of my readers (the gorgeous Melanie Friedman from <a href="http://bookworm2bookworm.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">BookWorm2BookWorm</a>) could win a day with me. Naturally, I wanted it to be *special* for my winner. Heh. So I hunted down the best dang sex museum there was in her hometown of Chicago. Imagine my surprise at finding an S&M museum that has it all. <br />
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The idea of S&M is nothing new. Even though everyone who ran out and bought 50 Shades of Grey certainly thinks it is, lol. When it comes to pain and sex, or instruments used for sex, or gay and lesbian sex, or group sex, or kinky sex, or anything involving leather, whips, restrains, and so on, you had better believe none of it is a 'recent' invention. We just get better at understanding it. The idea of S&M goes back loooooooong before medieval times, I assure you. <br />
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If you're ever in Chicago (or live in Chicago), I recommend you hunt down <a href="http://www.leatherarchives.org/home.htm" target="_blank">LA&M</a> for two reasons: It's incredibly artistic and incredibly educational. If you've been meaning to get into kinkier sex and/or understanding what it involves, THIS is the museum to visit.<br />
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The building itself was first a synagogue, then an arts center, before turning into what it is today in 1999. When you first come to the museum, you'll find that the doors are locked. Given what the museum has on display inside, they have no choice but to take precautions from religious freaks who think it necessary to destroy the museum's property. Fortunately, Melanie and I looked seemingly harmless enough and were allowed in. Once inside, the joy of discovering where my true comfort level lay began.<br />
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The exhibits include the Etienne Auditorium and the John Larsen Gallery. The paintings are incredible, life-like and breathtakingly provocative. Because the art collection was started by artist Dom Orejudos who worked under the name of Etienne, I found that most of the paintings involved men or male/male. I spied maybe one or two females painted into the artwork, which, for me, made it all the more unique, as our society has a tendency to showcase nude women, not nude men. (I loved it!)<br />
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One of my favorite aspects of the museum (aside from the artwork and historical artifacts) was actually the bondage safety quiz. Many of us think we know what bondage involves, until we take a test. I was pleasantly surprised to find that I aced all of the questions. And I consider myself a real amateur. I found I did rather well because when it comes to bondage it really just involves a lot of common sense. One has to have an understanding of what you're getting involved with and WHY you're getting involved in it.<br />
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I thought maybe you all needed proof that I actually visited the museum, lol. So here I am getting personal with one of the 'guys' at the Leather Bar. Yes, they have a leather bar! I lingered at that bar for a small while, lol.<br />
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On display, they also had some incredible historical kink artifacts, including this MASTER VIOLET RAY from the 1920's. What is a MASTER VIOLET RAY?<br />
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It's a medical device that was first created in the 1890's that delivered a high voltage current to the human body. In the 1920's you could purchase one for the retail price of $20, which included glass attachments. It was used to cure everything, including an ailment known as "brain fog." Instead of caffeine, why not clear your head up with a good dose of electricity. That's right. Wherever your particular ailment was located on your body, you would take the rod and apply it and zap it. Our great grandfathers and great grandmothers firmly believed running electricty through the body was good for you. Needless to say S&M people enjoyed making use of this item at home by applying it to certain neither regions, either on their own or with their partner/partners. Of course, people started finding it wasn't curing as much as they hoped it would and lawsuits started rolling in. In the 1950's, we see the end and ban of these magical MASTER VIOLET RAYS. Though that's not to say that people aren't making them and/or enjoying them today.<br />
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The most amazing aspect is the Teri Rose Library. A must see. It's a non-lending library filled to the ceiling with books, documents, and magazine that are all kink/sex related. Bottom line, I *highly* recommend this museum. I personally plan on making another visit to the museum just to spend the day going through their archives....maybe I'll see you there.<br />
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Until next time,<br />
Much love,<br />
Delilah Marvelle <br />
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<br />Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-63569306162698571992012-10-01T11:01:00.000-07:002014-01-28T07:28:24.097-08:00Hysteria and the vibrator<br />
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My dearest Reader,<br />
In celebration of the recent release of the movie HYSTERIA on DVD, I thought it'd be fun to give you sneak peek behind the history of the movie. Watch this outrageously funny little clip and then we'll chat about the history of the vibrator. And even better, I am offering YOU a chance to win the DVD Hysteria. How? Read on.<br />
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Since the 1700's, doctors all across Europe were frantically treating a female condition known as "hysteria." It was a diagnosis created by medical men that covered all sort of outrageous symptoms from asthma, muscle spasms, headaches, depression, faintness, loss of appetite and my favorite, "a tendency to cause trouble." What was the cause of "Hysteria" in women? Not having been properly pleasured, of course! Meaning...lack of orgasm. </div>
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Among the most tedious manners of treating this condition in women was for the doctor to "manually" go in and finger the clitoris to induce what was known as "hysterical paroxysm." That's right. Male doctors were fingering their patients into climax in the name of medical science. Whilst we women of the modern age snicker at the thought of these dirty old male doctors fingering us in the name of a medical condition "they" created, here's the scary part. They actually thought it was a real condition and therefore treated it as such. There is no documentation of any of these women taking doctors to court for "inappropriate" fingering, or any other documented complaints. The people of the time also didn't perceive at it as a sexual procedure, which tells you, the women were probably rather pleased to be getting off at all given many men back in the day didn't have the slightest idea as to where the clitoris was even located. It required a doctor. Though I do wonder how many 'fake' doctors opened up offices all around London. *_* </div>
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The truth is, many of the doctors saw it as a tedious chore. They had to finger women all morning and all afternoon, day after day. Which created sore wrists and sore fingers. (I kid you not. Kind of like carpal tunnel). Though dildos were prescribed to patients, and were used on said patients since the 1700's, it still required a lot of work. Pleasuring women day in and day out in their offices was incredibly exhausting. So...when late-Victorian technology offered mechanical solutions, you had better believe doctors jumped at it (making women even all the more happier, I'm sure). <br />
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One of the first vibrators was a "steam-powered device" called the "Manipulator." And of all things it was created by an American physician named George Taylor. It was hard to handle and created other wrist issues for doctors, lending doctors to look into creating something more efficient.<br />
Step in Doctor Joseph Mortimer Granville (whom the movie Hysteria is based off) in the 1880's. Dr. Granville created what was known as the first "electromechanical vibrator". Before you knew it,<br />
his device and many other large massagers became the fashion in many medical offices, that provided quicker and assured "paroxysms" to the large quantity of women walking through their doors day in and day out. Eventually, more compact vibrators were created and sold directly to the public. In the early 1900's, countless ads started appearing in female catalogs.<br />
<br />
And there you have it. Because men were shitty in bed, women had to go to their doctors. Heh.<br />
SO....for a chance to win a copy of the DVD Hysteria, answer the following question: If you were living in 1880, would YOU go to your doctor for treatment? Why? Or why not? The more creative the answer, the better your chances of winning. Winners will be announced by Oct.28th and posted here on the blog. US entries only.<br />
<br />
Until next time,<br />
Cheers and much love,<br />
Delilah Marvelle<br />
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Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-34226475623487256152012-09-01T09:10:00.000-07:002014-01-28T07:29:06.635-08:00Princess de Lamballe & Lesbian Propaganda<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXcVDm03ciWZdISPP6dFP9JNwfl9GcOkWlJP6zjiuGy34UgLgg_N7sTd9O0Y3Y3dMQSD_gm4p5Rp9CpVyIwyjmXia1X2MxyvkqHMnFJG9oPnhvNh1bsApabjEDmqk9kPRFTZTcnD9DiowJ/s1600/madamedelamballe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXcVDm03ciWZdISPP6dFP9JNwfl9GcOkWlJP6zjiuGy34UgLgg_N7sTd9O0Y3Y3dMQSD_gm4p5Rp9CpVyIwyjmXia1X2MxyvkqHMnFJG9oPnhvNh1bsApabjEDmqk9kPRFTZTcnD9DiowJ/s320/madamedelamballe.jpg" height="320" width="250" /></a></div>
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My dearest Readers,<br />
WARNING: if you are in any way squeemish, this post will make squeem (sounds dirty, I know. I'm not sorry).<br />
<br />
When it comes to the history of the French Revolution, you had best place both your hands on your neck and be ready for murder. Such is the story of Princess de Lamballe. Only hers goes way beyond murder. <br />
<br />
Many know the story of Marie Antoinette, and how she was dragged before the court, and asked to admit that she had been sexually abusing her own son (which she denied, for it was propaganda). But very few know the story of our poor Princess de Lamballe who was Marie Antoinette's closest friend. Like Marie Antoinette, Maria Louise of Savoy married young. At 16, she was wed to the Prince de Lamballe, a man who would inherit one of France's greatest fortunes. Barely five months into their marriage, the prince took on a mistress. Barely three years later, at the age of nineteen, Princess de Lamballe's husband died of a venereal disease<sup class="Template-Fact" style="white-space: nowrap;"></sup>, making her one of the wealthiest women in Paris. She soon came to the court and became a confidant to none other than Queen Marie Antoinette. She was present at every ceremony and privy to every goings on and was eventually given the honor of becoming a lady in waiting at Versailles. As she became closer in her friendship to Queen Marie Antoinette, she was then moved upward to a rank known as "Superintendent of the Queen's Household." It was the highest rank afforded to anyone in the Queen's realm. This high honor came at a high price. She became resented amongst many aristocrats for being so well loved and high placed by the Queen.<br />
<br />
Now here is the wicked twist of fate. Princess de Lamballe, by nature, was not only a good girl, but also a prudish girl. Especially after the way her husband had died from venereal disease.<sup class="Template-Fact" style="white-space: nowrap;"></sup> She played by the rules when it came to being a real lady and didn't engage men. And yet, despite her good name and respectable nature, she became the victim of what was known as "anti-monarchist" propaganda. What sucks about this was that she did everything respectable and yet in pamphlets all across Paris, she was being constantly portrayed in pornographic pamphlets as a lesbian to the Queen (which was far from the truth). In 1791, when things were beginning to heat up in Paris, Princess de Lamballe went to Great Britain in an attempt to plead for assistance for the French Royal Family that was under threat. Princess de Lamballe, whilst in Great Britain, also wrote her own will, fearing her own death upon her return to Paris. Being loyal and a good friend, Princess de Lamballe returned to Paris and served the Queen until that fateful day in August of 1792 when the royal family was seized by the beginning of the French Revolution.<br />
<br />
She was brought before a tribunal and commanded to revolt against her own Queen. She refused. With shouts of her being a lesbian by the mob (thanks to propaganda), that refusal ended in her being shoved into the street toward a male mob who delivered her the justice they believed she deserved. <br />
<br />
In The book MARIE ANTOINETTE: The Journey by Antonia Fraser, the following was done to Princess de Lamballe on the streets of Paris for the world to see:<br />
<br />
*Hit by hammers repeatedly on the head until she loses consciousness.<br />
*Raped before and after she loses consciousness.<br />
*Her breasts and clitoris were sliced off.<br />
*Her heart was cut out .<br />
*She was disemboweled.<br />
*Her head was mounted on a pike, her mons pubis then sliced off and worn as a moustache.<br />
*Her head was then through the street on said pike and stopped over at a barber shop so that the princess's head of hair could be restyled.<br />
*The head was then taken to where Marie Antoinette was being imprisoned and held before her window. It was the wrong window.<br />
<br />
While the outcome might have been the same given she was in allegiance with the Queen, the lesbian propaganda that had floated about the streets of Paris for years prior to the revolution, added to the fuel of this horrid crime. Rest in peace my dearest Princess de Lamballe.<br />
<br />
Much love and until next time,<br />
Delilah Marvelle<br />
<br />Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-21343900369714693312012-08-01T00:30:00.000-07:002014-01-28T07:32:37.632-08:00Offensive sexual positions in history<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYLf4Q12sjP55yTtB6fjFuCb2GjaodEOp_DuNriq_cu1pMTQIX3JhyphenhyphenQFDsNzAIX5SKxwPBzr-BgkG1AxWCgYCyljCxCyUnF0vTZbDXii3vc_OTMIfUFwmJTfGKkH1bsBeqPjp_DPU0LAdX/s1600/blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYLf4Q12sjP55yTtB6fjFuCb2GjaodEOp_DuNriq_cu1pMTQIX3JhyphenhyphenQFDsNzAIX5SKxwPBzr-BgkG1AxWCgYCyljCxCyUnF0vTZbDXii3vc_OTMIfUFwmJTfGKkH1bsBeqPjp_DPU0LAdX/s320/blog.jpg" height="320" width="219" /></a></div>
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My dearest Reader,<br />
As if sex didn't make all the prudes in history shake a fist, there was one period in history, when more than one fist was being shaken. In the year 1215, there was a religious cleric by the name of Johannes Teutonicus who was the first to publicly go on record that there should be only ONE sexual position allowed. That position is known today as missionary style. Teutonicus' theory was that the missionary style was not only optimal for conception but that any other position fell into the realm of pure evil. (I'm so going to hell). <br />
<br />
Since Teutonicus spoke out so anally (get it?!) about the matter, many other religious sects began focusing on what they believed were positions that created waaaaaay too much pleasure for the common good of humanity. It resulted in the creation and printing of "handbooks" known as SUMMAE CONFESSORUM (sounds like Harry Potter business to me...heh). Summae confessorums were handbooks that detailed all of the "offensive" positions and issued "penances" for each offensive position you took part in. The offensive positions listed in these books included "coitus retro" (rear entry, but not anal sex), being seated while having sex, standing while having sex, a woman being on top during sex (hey now...), having any side by side business, and sex during menstruation. Basically, if it wasn't face to face, with a man on top and penis to vagina, it was in the book under a long list of penances one needed to do if one strayed. <br />
<br />
According to these books, rear door business with a woman was as bad as rear door business with a man. It might surprise many of you to know that in England buggery wasn't illegal until Henry the VIII made it such in the 1500's.<br />
<br />
The following list of penances was taken from Sex, Dissidence and Damnation by Jeffrey Richards and Napoleon's Privates by Tony Perrottet.<br />
Penances included going without food and sex itself to purify the soul.<br />
<br />
And I quote:<br />
"Dorsal sex (woman on top): 3 years.<br />
Lateral, seated, standing: 40 days.<br />
Coitus retro: 40 days.<br />
Mutual masturbation: 30 days.<br />
Inter-femural sex (ejaculation between the legs): 40 days.<br />
Coitus in terga (anal sex) with an adult: 3 yrs.<br />
Coitus in terga with a boy: 2 years (*this just doesn't sit right with me. Less time for a boy?!)<br />
Coitus in terga with a cleric: 10 years.<br />
Semenem in ore (Semen in the mouth): 15 years."<br />
<br />
But here's the real kicker. As you well know, masturbation was never looked upon graciously. And guess who got slapped around for doing it the most? You got it, women. Men got about 10-30 days while a woman got a whole freakin year of penance. <br />
<br />
These books, however, fell out of practice of being printed and distributed by the 1500's. With all the positions listed in the books, I have no doubt it was because it served as its own Kama Sutra people gladly took home to look through, lol. So next time you ever complain that your partner isn't being creative enough, whip out your 'Summae confessorums" and show them they can do it all (for a price.)<br />
<br />
Until next time,<br />
Delilah Marvelle<br />
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Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-5321801234884009472012-07-01T23:06:00.001-07:002014-01-28T07:32:21.943-08:00Power to the Prostitutes New York Style<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifhugCgl7xPBBRry5JUVmIjHsUvAeUK-G_9Cy4NKA72b20DrHFG2IjxRksPyiYBfG9k-l9bKtqhJlLOqMH31q2bPqfhmmvUyJGJmNEftror283sxqmzgFfyhHd4MjP6Z4q2xY6G4HASaaL/s1600/Prostitute.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifhugCgl7xPBBRry5JUVmIjHsUvAeUK-G_9Cy4NKA72b20DrHFG2IjxRksPyiYBfG9k-l9bKtqhJlLOqMH31q2bPqfhmmvUyJGJmNEftror283sxqmzgFfyhHd4MjP6Z4q2xY6G4HASaaL/s320/Prostitute.jpg" height="320" width="311" /></a></div>
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<br />
I do a lot of research. So much of it, in fact, about 75% of what I come across never gets put into any of my stories. Ah. But they do find a place in this here monthly blog, where I explore the naughtier, dirtier and grittier side of history. My latest research adventure for my current series, took me into the depths of New York City between the years of 1800 to 1831. Although my upcoming release, FOREVER A LADY, features New York City and its poverty in the Five Points in 1830, I stayed away from the story of prostitution because it is an all too common theme for impoverished women. But…I did want to share some of the interesting aspects of New York City’s prostitution and how it compared to London’s prostitution during the Regency period.<br />
<br />
Both cities had massive prostitution problems. There was no doubt in that. Both cities had designated sections where it thrived, usually within close vicinity of churches, as those same churches offered assistance to the poor (and prostitutes were poor). But New York City had something that London did not: private prosecution. Basically, New York didn’t create a municipal police force until 1845, while London had created its municipal police force in 1829. What did those 17 additional years without a municipal police force create? Power for the prostitutes.<br />
<br />
Up until 1845, in New York City, it was individual citizens who pressed criminal charges, as opposed to the state and its officials. Therefore, prostitutes could use their rights as individual citizens in a way London prostitutes couldn’t. When threatened or attacked or if a loss of income occurred, the prepolice era allowed New York City prostitutes to define the crime that had been committed against them. Despite them being fallen women of society and breaking laws themselves, they were able to summon the watch and press charges. Countless men were convicted and jailed and fined due to brutalizing prostitutes and/or not paying them. How were these women able to do it? Prior to police, the process being used was known as the antebellum government. It was dedicated to protecting taxpayers and private properly. Are you catching on? So basically, prostitutes and their bodies and bordellos were considered property. Women, after all, WERE property. Talk about a quandary the New York City government had created for itself. It was either follow the law by allowing these women to protect themselves or break the law. And well…we know how quickly congress works…. can you imagine then?!<br />
<br />
Despite this incredible muscling power that the prostitutes had discovered within the cracks of the government, it created a backlash that sent us whirling into the Victorian era that created a different prostitute in New York City that changed when the police force was instated. She needed real protection that the government was no longer giving her. This was an era that exploded with pimps who could provide the protection to these women that the government no longer did.<br />
How’s that for a little history lesson?<br />
<br />
Until next time,<br />
Delilah MarvelleDelilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-67691780489408033612012-06-01T08:17:00.002-07:002014-01-28T07:33:03.838-08:00Men "discover" the Clitoris<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: #999999;"><span style="color: white;"></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">My dearest Readers,</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">
<span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: border-box; background-image: none; background-origin: padding-box; background-repeat: repeat; background-size: auto;">Given I myself am a woman, and that most of the
readers of my blog are women, I thought it only fair we dedicate am entire post
to the ever glorious clitoris. Although women have had their clitoris for as
long as men have had their cocks, here's a little something that will make you
want to smack around all the men of history. The sad reality is this. The word
"clitoris" which some will claim was taken from the ancient Greek
word <em><b>kleitor</b></em> (meaning little hill...how cute), did not find its
way on actual English record until 1615. Ehm. Kind of late boys. Don't you
think? </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">
</span><br />
<div style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Speaking of late...according to certain sources
(including Perrottet) the clitoris was "re-discovered" by men in the
year 1559. Now I am *more than certain* men knew of its existence prior to 1559
(geez, I freakin hope!) but medically speaking there was nothing on record
pertaining to the clitoris prior to 1559. Ooo. And get this. The man who goes
on record to "discover" the clitoris (which was done on a cadaver
whilst conducting research of the female body) was none other than a man by the
name of Renaldus Columbus (yes, like Christopher Columbus! Wow and how
appropriate!). </span></div>
<span style="background-color: white;">
</span><br />
<div style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">After some "prodding" into female cadavers,
Mr. Columbus came to the conclusion, which he wrote about in his book <em><b>De
Re Anatomica</b></em> that there was a female "appendage that would throb
with brief contractions" during sex. *dead silence* My question is how did
this dude know this by uh...studying DEAD women? *shudder* Uh...forgive
me...I'm digressing. As I was saying, Mr. Columbus decided to name his
incredible "discovery" <em><b>amor Veneris, cul dulcedo</b></em> (the
love or the sweetness of Venus). His momentous discovery created such a huff of
excitement throughout the community that OTHER men started protesting THEY had
first discovered it (and bravo if they had, right?). </span></div>
<span style="background-color: white;">
</span><br />
<div style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">There was only one problem. This Dutch physician taps
on the shoulder of every man in Europe, including Mr. Columbus, and announces
(now, mind you, I'm paraphrasing as there is no record of him saying it)
"The appendage, gentleman, was written about in great detail by Doctor
Galen back in the second century. The Greeks beats us, boy. Again."</span></div>
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span>
<div style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">And there you have it. The Greeks do it again. Though
this girl hopes that men prior to the Greeks knew about it, too. For the sake
of all those women in history.</span></div>
<span style="background-color: white;">
</span><br />
<div style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Until next time and much love to you,</span></div>
<div style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">
<span style="background-color: white;">Delilah Marvelle</span><span style="background-color: #999999; color: white;"><span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="background-color: #cccccc;"></span></span></span><br />
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Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-64282201031544134312012-05-01T01:00:00.000-07:002014-01-28T07:33:24.664-08:00Once Upon a Chucking<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_T2f-x4IWO4UAJDgEFzpbTOMcHATiqBztlg2v9ad0LfslRct5SdwrIuK5zmGuOWJI2Qg_nySeLISGsEkHnVVU2jKVGtOdPyZk_zH3fDpQRsVYCS3U1IwmH7BKACNF0QfXhZTYmoB15FjQ/s1600/chucking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_T2f-x4IWO4UAJDgEFzpbTOMcHATiqBztlg2v9ad0LfslRct5SdwrIuK5zmGuOWJI2Qg_nySeLISGsEkHnVVU2jKVGtOdPyZk_zH3fDpQRsVYCS3U1IwmH7BKACNF0QfXhZTYmoB15FjQ/s320/chucking.jpg" height="220" width="320" /></a></div>
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My dearest Readers,<br />
This month's post will be rather...short. But the history will be just as amusing as anything else in naughty history. We touch upon a wink in history pertaining to prostitutes and a particular game they used to play. It was known as "CHUCKING." <br />
<br />
According to the <i><strong>Authentick Memoirs of the Life Intrigues and Adventures of the Celebrated Sally Salisbury</strong></i> (which was published in 1723), Sally was notorious for engaging in outrageous ways of entertaining her gentlemen customers. There was nothing she wouldn't do in the name of money (the whore!). One of her favorite antics, which made her quite famous and gave prostitutes ideas to last for centuries was her little game which became known as "CHUCKING." When Sally Salisbury was feeling particularly saucy (and this girl always was, believe me), she would stand on her head, naked and spread her legs for the boys, encouraging them to "chuck" gold coins into her vagay-gay. The sky was the limit with this one. For it was quite literally a game. She kept the coins that were tossed but what about those that actually landed *in* her vagay-gay by the lucky tosser? You guessed it. He got laid. Here is a snippet from that 1723 memoir which gives us a delectable peek into her naughtiness:<br />
<blockquote>
<strong>Between two marble-pillars, round and plump,<br />With eye intent, each sportsman took his aim;<br />The merry <i>Chuck-Hole</i> border’d on the rump,<br />And from this play Sally deriv’d a name.<br />Within her tufted chink, the guineas shone,<br />And each that she receiv’d, was all her own.<br />With echoing shouts the vaulted chamber rung,<br /><i>Belle Chuck</i> was now the Toast of ev’ry tongue.</strong><br />
<strong>Sally no more her Christian Name could boast,</strong><br />
<strong>And Priddon, too, to that of Chuck was lost.</strong></blockquote>
So the next time you wonder if a wood chuck could chuck wood, just think about good old leg spreading Sally. *smirk*<br />
Much love to you and until next time,<br />
Delilah MarvelleDelilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-19690020870786923382012-04-02T15:47:00.003-07:002014-01-28T07:33:53.426-08:00Napoleon's Missing Penis<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnY4kJYGeDYVMCZhYn5sNan-sCQfhOp04T0jhl2KyAzoL2yDfJHxiJcKcCkAxpxPgWFJqivErWCIbDymIxYuE5jXB9KS7gkU5dxZqk4GO81W_rDUnutRXI4rlNTolI4z2_y6ANoPb_qQUm/s1600/Napleon" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnY4kJYGeDYVMCZhYn5sNan-sCQfhOp04T0jhl2KyAzoL2yDfJHxiJcKcCkAxpxPgWFJqivErWCIbDymIxYuE5jXB9KS7gkU5dxZqk4GO81W_rDUnutRXI4rlNTolI4z2_y6ANoPb_qQUm/s640/Napleon" height="640" width="412" /></a></div>
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My dearest Readers,<br />
You didn't think I'd actually post on April Fool's Day, did you? <br />
Haha and I hope you enjoyed my prank :)<br />
I'm sure the title of this post alone got your attention and though some of you may actually KNOW this particular history, I'm going to dig into Napoleon's trousers all the same, given I never touched upon the importance of his missing penis on my blog. I tried to find a picture that did his package justice. Heh. <br />
<br />
Poor Napoleon. He was known for being short and his penis was known for being shorter. You might want to ask yourself why such rumors were perpetuated. Napoleon wasn't THAT short. He stood at five feet and six and a half inches tall, which for his era, is more than respectable and was the average height for a man. Yet history has a tendency to want to insult men who take over the world (be those reasons good or not). Ah. But history wasn't done insulting poor Napoleon. Oh, no. His penis mysteriously disappeared after his death. I'm not kidding! <br />
<br />
After Napoleon was defeated by the British in the Battle of Waterloo in 1815, Napoleon was exiled and kept on the island of Saint Helena by the British for the last six years of his life. When he finally died on May 5th 1821, the autopsy was witnessed by a room full of people, and though it was recorded that day that the body was in tact, one particular witness in the room (who had issued Napoleon's last rites) was a certain priest by the name of Ange Vignali.<br />
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Ange apparently snipped off a little memento for himself. You guessed it, Napoleon's penis. Or so the story goes. For it is also said that Napoleon's physician was the one to lop it off. Either way, it disappeared and didn't resurface until 1916 when it was sold off and the sellers claimed it was Napoleon's actual penis, measuring at an inch or so (though I'm sure it has long since shriveled all the more since). It was bought and disappeared again until the late 1960's when it was put on sale. The sum, apparently, wasn't something people were willing to pay for. So it was broken into pieces and resold again in the 1970's, where a urologist by the name of John Kingsley Lattimer bought one of the pieces. Napoleon's penis has been sitting in a box in New Jersey ever since. Don't believe me? Let the fabulous Tony Perrottet, the author of the fabulous non-fiction book, Napoleon's Privates, 2,500 years unzipped tell you what he found. Watch the you tube video in which he travels to see the famous penis. <br />
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Hope you enjoyed digging into Napoleon's trousers...<br />
Much love and until next time,<br />
Delilah Marvelle<br />
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<br />Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-76590586861596354372012-03-01T00:17:00.000-08:002014-01-28T07:34:34.108-08:00The Art of Strangulation...for Pleasure<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My dearest Readers,<br />
Just when you think you know what I'm about to post...ha and ha.<br />
The Art of Strangulation for Pleasure (known as erotic asphyxiation to us modern folks) goes back so far in history that most likely Adam and Eve were doing it in the Garden of Eden. Heck. Maybe that's why they got kicked out. Supposedly, there was a Mayan statuette unearthed that had been found with a rope around its neck....and a hard on. I about rubbed my hands together wanting to see THAT. And while I've tried to dig up said statuette on the Internet as well as more information, alas, I haven't found anything of merit. So I'm inclined to say that until someone can "erect" our Mayan, I can't give the rumor credit. But it lends to the fascinating topic I intend to delve into. That said....let's unearth what has, in fact, been historically recorded and substantiated. Printed proof of strangulation for pleasure came to light in a most bizarre way and rather late in history.<br />
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A pamphlet published anonymously in England in 1791 surfaced in London society called <strong>Modern Propensities: Or, An Essay on the Art of Strangulation &c.</strong> This pamphlet revealed a most astounding tale pertaining to a certain "Susannah Hill" and her trial which took place on the 12th of September of 1791 at the Old Bailey in London. She was being charged for murder of a man by the Crown. Usually, if the Crown is attached to it, it means that an example was sought to be publicly made. Susannah was a prostitute. Unlike other women who roamed the streets soliciting men, she was more of a "respectable" whore. She rented out the front parlor of a home on Vine Street and had a little sign on the door that nudged the men of the public into knowing of her existence. Signs like "Tender Care Within." Let your imagination run wild. With the sign up, she sat in the parlor waiting for customers. One man, by the name of Francis Kotzwarra, walked in.<br />
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And this is where it gets fun. She takes him into the backroom, expecting the usual, only to find the dude asking that she do him the honor of cutting off his genitals and slicing them in half as he watched. She had sense enough to refuse. So he "settled" on giving her money for a cord -- any cord -- that he might use to hang around his throat. He explained to her that it would "raise his passions" and all he needed was few minutes. She assisted him in getting the cord around his neck and he used the door to asphyxiate himself. Upon finding the man stopped moving, she cut him down and darted over to a neighbor (a fellow prostitute), scared that she had killed him by submitting to his bizarre request.<br />
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And this is where the pamphlet darts down an unexpected road. Apparently, it notes that the Judge of the proceedings halted any further testimony and told the jury that Susannah should be dismissed of all charges. It just got too freaky for him. The Crown (the Prosecution) had hoped to make an example of Susannah so as to discourage such "strangulation" for pleasure practices. The Judge saw it differently. He thought that Susannah was a victim of a customer who was too freaky to handle and that she shouldn't be held responsible for his freakiness. Nor did the judge want the public getting any ideas that there was pleasure in strangulation. So he had all records of the proceedings destroyed, hoping to keep the case silent. <br />
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Interestingly, no records of this case exist in the Old Bailey. BUT....if we are to trust this pamphlet, it may very well be because the judge didn't want the case on record and had the recorded notes for the case destroyed, as mentioned. Ah. Which means...someone was glorious and devious enough, be it a jury member or someone in the back room observing, to take enough notes to make it public. If this person hadn't done so, it would have disappeared from history. <br />
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Another interesting tid bit about the art of pleasure strangulation (and this you are SO gonna love) is that in Victorian era (according to source Uva), there were specialty places in London known as "Hanged Men's Clubs." They had prostitutes who specialized in hanging men without killing them. Although very little more than that is known, as these were underground clubs, I can only imagine what went on inside. Women barely dressed asking the gents who came in, "Shall I start you off with tea or rope, dear sir?"<br />
Gives a whole new meaning to the game..."Hang Man." Don't it?<br />
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Ah, the joys of being devious.<br />
Until next time,<br />
Cheers and much love,<br />
Delilah Marvelle<br />
Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-43585887343358350152012-02-01T00:34:00.000-08:002014-01-28T07:35:25.451-08:00The Beginnings of Sexual Repression in Polite Society…<br />
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My dearest Readers,</div>
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I have the incredible pleasure of introducing a fellow historical romance siren who will not only be giving insight to a topic that beautifully fits my blog but will be doing a signed book giveaway in honor of her incredible debut, <strong>SWEET ENEMY</strong>. Read her fantastic post, post a question pertaining to her post with your email address and you'll be entered to win. Both US and International may enter. Winners will be picked on Valentine's Day. And seeing that it is the month of love, I'll also throw in a signed copy of <strong>FOREVER AND A DAY</strong><span style="color: black;"> </span>to a second runner up. Happy Valentine's Day!<br />
Delilah</div>
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Thank you so much, Delilah, for having
me. February is very exciting for me this year because my debut
Regency, <i><strong>Sweet Enemy</strong></i>, is being released on February 7<sup>th</sup>.
I can’t think of a better place to kick of my month than visiting
A Bit O’ Muslin!</div>
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RT Book Reviews gave <i>Sweet Enemy</i>
4 stars, saying, “In the first in the Veiled Seduction series,
newcomer Snow makes a mark on the genre. Her characters may be 18th
century, but their sensibilities are modern. The plot, with its tinge
of mystery, matchmaking and a bit of mayhem, will warm readers’
hearts.”</div>
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When I first read that description, I
thought “Hell, yes, my characters have modern sensibilities! My
heroines actually <i>enjoy</i> sex, in the daytime, with their
clothes off, and in positions other than missionary!” Because we
all know that our unfortunate sisters of centuries gone by were
restricted and oppressed when it came to expressing and enjoying
their sexuality. Think chastity belts…think dresses that covered
even one’s ankles so as not to incite men’s lust…think of
mothers advising their soon-to-be-married daughters to “close your
eyes and think of England.” If our poor characters were truly
women of their time, they would be married off as virtual broodmares
and tupped quite politely, often in the dark without even having to
remove their night rails, while their husbands saved the fun stuff
for their mistresses…at least in Polite Society. And what fun
would that be to read about???</div>
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But it wasn’t always that way. In
fact, the prudery, repression and social restrictions that began
towards the end of the Regency period and that marked the Victorian
period are vastly different than how sex, and the woman’s role in
it, was viewed before then. And you may be surprised at one theory
of how and why it all came about.</div>
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Prior to the 17th century, women’s
and men’s bodies were seen as virtually the same. This “one-sex
model” theory basically stated that a woman’s reproductive organs
were the same as a man’s, only internal whereas a man’s was
external. It was also thought that both men and women produced seed
crucial for conception, so both male and female ejaculation was
required to produce a child.
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Now, the scientist in me screams, “How
could they have thought something so ridiculous? Surely some woman
who turned up pregnant without having orgasmed would have decried
this, LOUDLY!” But that’s not what’s important in this
discussion. The really interesting thing to take from this time is
that a woman’s sexual pleasure was considered vital…crucial,
even, to the survival of our species. Women were seen, and accepted,
as sexual beings <i>equal</i> with men, at least in the bedroom. To
have a lusty, voracious wife was a positive thing.</div>
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So what changed?</div>
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Londa Shiebinger, of Stanford
University, who specializes in the relationship between gender and
science throughout history, would argue that it was
politics—specifically, battles over women’s rights. If the
“one-sex” model was allowed to stand, and women were biologically
equal to men, why should they not have the same rights as men? Well,
you can see what a problem that might present—at least from the
male perspective. So a push to have women and men defined as
<i>opposite</i> sexes began.
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Ms. Schiebinger argues “Natural
rights could be countered only by proof of natural inequalities.
There were endless new struggles for power and position in the
enormously enlarged public sphere of the 18<sup>th</sup> and
particularly 19<sup>th</sup> centuries: between and among women and
men, and between feminists and anti-feminists.”
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So the “one-sex model” was
redefined to a two-sex model, with women and men no longer variations
of the same sex. Differences were stressed. Gender roles were
defined. And women came out on the losing end.</div>
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By the late 18<sup>th</sup> century,
the female orgasm was relegated to unnecessary (the bastards!), and
things went downhill for us sexually from there. Passion, lust and
desire were discouraged in young ladies, to be avoided lest she
become a loose or fallen woman—at least until the modern sexual
revolution, that is.</div>
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So I say, yes, my characters have modern sensibilities—or at least
“pre-18<sup>th</sup> century sensibilities”! I can promise you
that Liliana, the heroine of <i>Sweet Enemy</i>, has very “pre-18<sup>th</sup>
century sensibilities”. A scientist herself, she also has a love
for experimentation. In fact, come to think of it, I don’t think
she and Geoffrey try the missionary position even once in the book.
And the Earl, for his part, is also a man outside of his time—not
only does he support Liliana’s work and encourage her to use her
brilliant mind, he is thrilled to have a lusty, voracious wife. And
that, I hope, you will have great fun reading about!
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Beakers and ball gowns don't mix, so
when a lady chemist goes undercover as a husband hunter to
investigate the earl whose family she thinks may have murdered her
father, romance isn't part of her formula. But it only takes one
kiss to start a reaction she can't control.</div>
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"Historical intrigue and
heart-pounding passion make <i>Sweet Enemy</i> a great read. Romance
fans will love it." ~#1NYT Bestselling Author JULIE GARWOOD</div>
<div style="border-color: currentColor currentColor rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: none none solid; border-width: medium medium 1px; margin-bottom: 0in; padding: 0in 0in 0.01in;">
Available wherever books are sold on February 7, 2012. Find out more
at <a href="http://www.heathersnowbooks.com/"><strong>www.HeatherSnowBooks.com</strong></a></div>
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Heather Snow is a
historical romance author with a degree in Chemistry
who discovered she much preferred creating chemistry on the
page, rather than in the lab. She is forever trying to wrangle her
left and right brain to work together (some days with more success
than others!), but if her two sides had to duke it out, left would
win every time—which can be a creative challenge. Luckily, she
loves challenges…she just goes about solving them analytically. Heather lives in the Midwest with her husband, two rambunctious boys and one very put upon cat. She sincerely hopes you find her stories have just the right chemistry...</div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Please
visit her at </span></span><u><a href="http://www.heathersnowbooks.com/"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">www.HeatherSnowBooks.com</span></a></u><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">,</span>
on Facebook </span></span><u><a href="http://www.facebook.com/authorheathersnow"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">www.facebook.com/authorheathersnow</span></a></u><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">
or on Twitter </span></span><u><a href="http://www.twitter.com/HeatherSnowRW"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">www.twitter.com/HeatherSnowRW</span></a></u></span></span></div>
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Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-70362332907898153982012-01-01T15:49:00.000-08:002014-01-28T07:35:48.762-08:00Eugenics Part 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-egioJ-rMn2A/TwDhxe9s2XI/AAAAAAAAAg8/TsP8HR-JaWY/s1600/sex1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-egioJ-rMn2A/TwDhxe9s2XI/AAAAAAAAAg8/TsP8HR-JaWY/s320/sex1.JPG" height="320" width="239" /></a></div>
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My dearest Readers,</div>
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Happy New Year! 2012 makes me realize how far we as a civilization have come. Um...for the most part anyway. Heh. This month, I'll be delving into Part 2 of Eugenics. And what better way to delve into our 1919 book than with a diagram that asks WHAT WILL HER FUTURE BE? </div>
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Good question for all of us girls. </div>
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The diagram shows two paths. At the top we have a bright little girl who represents thousands of girls back in the day. Happy, loving and cheerful....BUT....if not properly "trained" this bright little girl may follow the course picture to the left. At 15, "in the company of boys of questionable character; at twenty, modesty and self-respect lost due to said company; at 26, immoral and an outcast from home and society; and at forty, (love this!), prematurely old, with life wrecked, poverty and wretchedness her lot."</div>
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Okay, okay, so maybe I should ease off on all the sexist stances in this book and see where we could find something more engagingly positive. *Paging through* Diseases Peculiar to Men. Hm. THAT sounds engagingly positive. Let's dig in. </div>
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<strong>MEN SHOULD KNOW</strong> -- "There are certain derangements and diseases peculiar to the male sex." (Us women already knew this. Smirk.)</div>
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<strong>SPERMATORRHOEA</strong> (That doesn't sound good...It sounds like sperm is leaking out of one's ass) -- "Exceedingly disastrous in its effects upon the mind and most destructive on the body. Seminal emissions occur during sleep." (Ah. Referring to what we know today as being Wet Dreams)</div>
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<strong>A VERY RARE DISEASE</strong> -- "Spermatorrhoea itself is a VERY RARE disease, although it is undoubtedly a very serious one when it occurs,"</div>
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<strong>WHAT BRINGS IT ABOUT?</strong> -- "Self-abuse." (Ha) "For Medical treatment of Spermatorrhoea, see Medical Department of this book."</div>
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*Paging through quickly to find medical Department of this book*</div>
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<strong>PRESCRIPTIONS</strong> -- (Holy monkeys! There are actually listed self-drugging prescriptions in this book. Cooooooool) Hm. Can't find the Medical Treatment for Spermateorrhoea. Dang it. But there is a Prescription for Diarrhea. Same thing, right? Just leaking from a different hole. Prescription is as follows: </div>
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<strong>No. 16</strong></div>
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<strong>Diarrhea Remedy</strong></div>
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<strong>Tincture Rhubarb, 1 ounce.</strong></div>
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<strong>Tincture Jamaica Ginger, 1/2 ounce.</strong></div>
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<strong>Tincture Catechu, 1/2/ ounce.</strong></div>
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<strong>Lime-water, 1 ounce.</strong></div>
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<strong>Paragoric, 1 ounce.</strong></div>
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<strong>Dose: One teaspoonful every time the bowels move.</strong></div>
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Oh, now wait. I just found a prescription for Impotence, sexual debility, gleet and self abuse. Awesome.</div>
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<strong>No. 28</strong></div>
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<strong>Impotence, sexual debility, gleet and self-abuse</strong></div>
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<strong>Tincture Gelsemii, 1 1/2 drachms.</strong></div>
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<strong>Tincture Belladonna, 2 drachms. (Omgosh, I looked it up and its Deadly Night Shade....NICE)</strong></div>
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<strong>Brom. Potassi, 4 drachms.</strong></div>
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<strong>Aqua Destill. q. s. 2 ounces.</strong></div>
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<strong>Dose: Teaspoonful three times a day. See that bowels are not constipated.</strong></div>
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I don't know what half this shit is, do you? And people were chugging this stuff? No wonder they didn't live long. And oh! I looooove this one. It's for earaches. Mix 1 ounce olive oil and 20 drops of LAUDANUM. Nothing like opium to knock you out for a few days. But of course your freakin ear ache will go away! Everything will when you're doped up. Duh.</div>
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Okay, time to move away from the drug section before I get arrested.</div>
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Let's go back to the section known as THE SOCIAL EVIL. That looks good.</div>
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"It is computed that 30,000 males are daily infected with venereal diseases in the United States." (I agree venereal disease must have been spawning left and right. But 30,000 a day? Every last man would have been diseased by the end of one year...Was it upped to create paranoia? Note to self: there is no source quoted for this statistic. Hmmmmm). Now wait. Here's more of a real stat. "In the public institutions of New York City about 10,000 cases of venereal disease are treated annually." Youch. Those are the ones that stepped forward, mind you. Of course these were the days when condoms were still being REUSED.</div>
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And on that note....HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! LOL.</div>
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In honor of the New Year and that I have a new book out that is kicking off a new series, I will be giving away one signed copy of FOREVER AND A DAY to one lucky commenter who posts their favorite "drink." (legal or not). Be sure to post your email address with your comment. Winner will be chosen by January 15th and contacted directly via email. </div>
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Much love and until next month,</div>
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Delilah Marvelle</div>
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Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-66379737706157735252011-12-01T10:47:00.001-08:002011-12-01T11:49:19.925-08:00Eugenics Part 1My dearest Readers,<br />
It always fascinates me to come across books that reflect the prudery that influenced an entire generation. And we're not talking all that long ago, either. A friend of mine was so gloriously kind as to gift me with a fabulous book she had come across in her attic that was printed in 1919. It's called <strong>EUGENICS </strong>or <strong>Nature's Secrets Revealed, The Scientific Knowledge of The Laws of Sex and Heredity</strong>. <br />
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Let me start with this disclaimer: <strong>Ha</strong>. The only thing revealed in this book is the notion that sex is still a four letter word and that women have no rights back in 1919. I will emphasize that this book was published not even a hundred years ago. Scary. And needless to say, we're going to dissect this sucker by giving you up close and personal cuts from the book itself. I've decided to break this post into two parts because there's just WAY too much to share of this 500 page book. Yes. 500 pages of skirting around the issue, lol...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNKCrJSnhlKUzVNCSPm7VWbLLAV8yob_b7NjKCfPKR53hry3tmgfX-f19UD5DwngxBie9YNfW1JydGVV0_tMh_4GCa2ZEpU6Lu4ee6E-lGUB5PY9XYtzrfa2njyZoi3gJGaJk3uDbc_LOJ/s1600/Eugenics.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNKCrJSnhlKUzVNCSPm7VWbLLAV8yob_b7NjKCfPKR53hry3tmgfX-f19UD5DwngxBie9YNfW1JydGVV0_tMh_4GCa2ZEpU6Lu4ee6E-lGUB5PY9XYtzrfa2njyZoi3gJGaJk3uDbc_LOJ/s320/Eugenics.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
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Topics explored and quoted with snide commentaries by Yours Truly:<br />
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<strong>BAD BOOKS</strong>: One half of the youth in our prisons and houses of corrections started their evil careers by reading bad books, or at best, worthless novels. (God save those reading my books...) These books are the nicotine and alcohol of literature. They poison, and burn, and blast the head and heart as surely as their cousins do the stomach. <br />
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<strong>RUINED BY BAD BOOKS</strong>: An eighteen-year-old girl suspected of being the writer of threatening letters received by the Sunday School Literature publisher, and other persons of the city, on being arrested and tried, confessed that it had been the reading of bad books that led her into the crime. No one can estimate the amount of crime and lawlessness that is directly traceable to the dime novel and other pernicious literature. (Oh, yes. I'm going to hell and guess what? So are you!).<br />
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<strong>Bad Pictures</strong>: Bad reading burns deeper than does filthy conversation, and bad pictures, perhaps make deeper scars than do bad books. Both burn very deeply into the souls of boys and girls, young men and young women. Dr. Leonard, a leading divine, tells of the dreadful effects of foul pictures shown him by a Germany shoemaker as a boy. (sounds like German shoemaker was a perve and it had nothing to do with f*cking pictures....) Dr. Leonard, like thousands of other pure men, would give his good right arm if these vile pictures could be forgotten. (Sadly, it sounds like he was sexually abused as a boy and it's being blamed on pornography).<br />
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<strong>Characteristics of Woman</strong>: There is beauty in the helplessness of a woman. (Nice) The clinging trust (or stupidity) which searches for extraneous support is graceful and touching. Timidity is the attribute of her sex, but to herself it is not without its dangers, its inconveniences and its sufferings. Her first effort at comparative freedom is bitter enough, for the delicate mind shrinks from every unaccustomed contact. The secret of her weakness is hidden in the depths of her own bosom (Note: this man was written by a man. Surprise, surprise. Delilah would also like to note that there was no page found on the characteristics of a man...)<br />
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<strong>A Sterile Marriage</strong>: I will describe one more case, in which the two parties were perfectly neutral to each other, and therefore sterile and childless. (This is in 1919, when functions and sterility were, in fact, understood...talk about bad books) A man spoke o me one day and said, "I would like to talk with you." He asked me to explain the grounds of my teaching, which I did as I have done in this article. He then said, "How would it be with me in case I should have married a wife who was tall and slender, with snapping black eyes?" (Sounds like he thinks he married the wrong woman). He himself was tall, say five feet eleven inches. We had been speaking of Napoleon and Josephine, and why they were childless together and I went on to show him that substantially the same conditions existed in his case, that he and his wife were so closely alike as to be neutral to each other and therefore sterile and childless. He told me they had been married fourteen years and had never had a child, and that he had no idea why, but now he could see that the case was the same with them as with Napoleon and Josephine. (Talk about a REAL Napoleon complex...) It was plain to see that he had married a woman he had over idolized and so had formed a strictly neutral marriage. (WTF).<br />
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<strong>Mental Effect of Sex Ignorance</strong>: In his investigations of the asylums of one nation, Dr. Pique claims that he found that 82% of all cases of insanity among females and 78% among males, involved sexual issues and that early sex instruction would have wholly prevent many cases and would have postponed the mental breakdown. (Um, yeah. Notice how the insanity percentage of women is higher. Hm)<br />
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<strong>Effects of Sexual Excitement on Man</strong>: In a man, if spooning is persisted in, it leads to sexual excitement. This causes a surplus of energy to be secreted. The body can retain and use only a normal quantity of this energy. This surplus will be dissipated through involuntary losses, the secret vice (he's referring to masturbation) or prostitution. If spooning is continued for a few months or years, he will suffer from varicosed veins and varicocele (A widening of the veins that holds the testicles). He may become temporarily or permanently impotent or sterile. (1919 people)<br />
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<strong>Effects of Sexual Excitement on Women</strong> (oh, this is going to be good!): Frequent excitement leads to ovarian troubles, leucorrhoea (vaginal discharge), or whites, corresponding to sexual weakness in the male. The eyes that once glowed with lustre will become pale and sunken (yeah, if you do it every two minutes and get no sleep!). The cheeks once plump, ruddy and rosy with health will become thin and faded. One or many more other troubles may follow. With the kindest interest in you and yours, believe me, sincerely your friend, T.W.S. (This dude actually wouldn't even use his real name, only initials. Snort.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr3WO-rFLWH1U5PUrW8jhFsW_5zaJcj5Au8s0r4kbymDQBIG6DHrsLbYftIeiKBYhT7G_Ay-mdXlfkAd3qncvUuHX3V9cTIwOyVU1EyYQPX4jqk4UYza5Y7hkrarUtr-LCrY_kIylYYajr/s1600/Eugenics1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr3WO-rFLWH1U5PUrW8jhFsW_5zaJcj5Au8s0r4kbymDQBIG6DHrsLbYftIeiKBYhT7G_Ay-mdXlfkAd3qncvUuHX3V9cTIwOyVU1EyYQPX4jqk4UYza5Y7hkrarUtr-LCrY_kIylYYajr/s320/Eugenics1.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
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What fascinates this here girl is that this sex book does in fact use pictures. Only...they are covered.<br />
This particular picture discusses the Correct Form And Proportions Of Male And Female. And goes on and on about the beauty of the body but dang them, there's no picture OF the body...<br />
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The misconceptions that are own grandparents and their parents were born into is astounding and even more so, knowing that this wasn't that long ago. Some of these people are still walking around today. Or should I saw hobbling around...that said, I haven't even made a dent in this book! It's very sexist and I'm struggling not to rip pages....God do I ever feel blessed to have been born in the era I have been born in, because I would have been a slut and a whore of the worst sort, reading BAD BOOKS and having ovarian complications...<br />
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Until Next time, Much love to you and your ovaries,<br />
Delilah Marvelle<br />
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<br />Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-28314034713253630902011-11-01T11:59:00.000-07:002014-01-28T07:36:11.493-08:00Roman Wife or Roman Whore?<div>
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My dearest Readers,<br />
There is so much to cover when it comes to Rome and their naughty history, I could spend all day and night typing up a fifty page blog post. But because I don't want your eyes rolling to the back of your head, I'm going to actually showcase what I think deserves showcasing. And believe me...it's GOOD.<br />
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As many of you already know, Rome was a crazy place to live in and have sex in. And because it was crazy, many laws were put into place to put people into place. (heh. good luck with that, Caesar). Married men in Rome could have sex with whoever the hell they wanted to. Widows, Slaves, Prostitutes, and anything on four legs (you think I'm kidding?). The men of Rome had it made. They could have sex with everyone, including their wives. <br />
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Oh, now wait...not everyone. They couldn't have sex with virgins and other people's wives. Why? Strict adultery laws (which I'm sure the men grumbled about, especially when they were eyeing their neighbor's hot wife laying out the pottery by the door.) These "strict" adultery laws, however, didn't irk the men at all, given they were screwing everything else. These laws actually slammed the wives hard (pun intended). Because unlike the husband who could stick it in anything except other wives and virgins, a married woman wasn't allowed ANY sex outside of her husband. Because the law itself was written as such that it was a CRIME to have sex with a married woman. Not a married man. Huh. Wonder who wrote THAT law? If an adulteress was caught having sex outside marriage, the punishment was the loss of all her property (including her children) and exile.<br />
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Oh, but now we get to the good part. You think Roman wives took this laying down? *Smirk* Hell, no. They were a lot smarter than the Roman men gave them credit for and they found their glorious little loophole in another Roman law they bent in their favor so they could get themselves a little somethin' somethin' without losing everything.Ancient Roman law was written as such that any woman registered as a prostitute (because it was considered a very legal profession) could NOT be punished for any sex acts. Including that of adultery. Because hey. A job was a job. <br />
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Men wanted the best of both worlds and wanted prostitution legal so they could do what their wives couldn't do. But you guessed it, the wives beat their husbands at their own game. They just registered themselves as prostitutes and got around the law in a bow worthy way. Believe it or not, there were many wealthy and high profile families in Rome which had mothers and grandmothers alike registered as....you got it...prostitutes.Roman Suetonius (c. 69-c. 140 C.E) went on record to complain about this loophole to his fellow Roman men. He said, "Married women from well-known families are registering as prostitutes. They are escaping punishment for their adulteries by renouncing the privileges of their rank in society." Well, now. There you have it. Women *are* smarter than men, after all.<br />
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I hope you enjoyed this bit of naughty history and until next time,<br />
Much love to you,<br />
Delilah Marvelle</div>
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Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-2148381564063287242011-09-30T23:43:00.000-07:002014-01-28T07:36:35.314-08:00Women and brothels, oh my!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvAZygfaDrZu1u-dtY8L63vmnTmjppGcDs394y9LhzZnXhGwhwOeRog017T9Gtn5hQveUxFuOLooDk_DNgSN3fj3BAP9QRBf8d1Y-AWvT0U6V8SGsZWJVzKSKJHQuV1HZAPUmWyRITXRzw/s1600/BrothelRed.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvAZygfaDrZu1u-dtY8L63vmnTmjppGcDs394y9LhzZnXhGwhwOeRog017T9Gtn5hQveUxFuOLooDk_DNgSN3fj3BAP9QRBf8d1Y-AWvT0U6V8SGsZWJVzKSKJHQuV1HZAPUmWyRITXRzw/s400/BrothelRed.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658422726246760770" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 324px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
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My dearest Readers,</div>
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Ah, the good old days of brothels. They went by my names. How many? Let me count the ways and the years the terms came into existence. Stew (1362), Bawdy House (1552), Leaping House (1596), Bagnio (1624), A Place of SixPenny Sinfullness (a mouthful that came to be in the 17th century), Nunnery (late 17th century), Ladies College, House of Ill Repute, House of Ill Fame, House of Evil Fame and the ever creative The Naughty House (all terms which came into existence in the 18th century). And crazy though it is, I could go on...</div>
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Unlike the history of street prostitutes, brothels were well documented for us to study because they were run like businesses (and WERE businesses) and had accounts and kept books that listed EVERYTHING. So how about we have some fun and dig into this naughty bit of history?</div>
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In Covent Garden, in 1752, a certain Mrs. Haddock died leaving behind a brothel empire, one of the most lavish ones to have ever been known in London. The fixtures and fittings alone were worth several hundreds pounds, estimated to be worth THOUSANDS in today's market. Her brothel had 32 beds and 14 dining tables (nothing like eating you know what....snort). The contents of the brothel's wine cellar were about 165 pounds worth (about $12,000 today). And the silverware was said to be worth three times the cellar.</div>
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In a brothel, be it lower class or higher class, there was always a woman in charge of the prostitutes and establishment itself. Men vanished from the brothel trade (meaning owning it), toward the late 1600's for reasons having to do with the fact that women knew what men wanted as opposed to men knowing what men wanted. </div>
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I'll be touching on the upper scale brothels given they involved more and offered more. Women who started these upper scale brothels knew that men liked "exclusivity" and seized on using the idea. A certain Mrs. Goadby on Marlborough Street was one of them. She hired only the most beautiful women and physicals for all of her women on a weekly basis to ensure they were clean. If any of them had minor problems, like pubic lice, it was treated (by shaving) and the girl was rested until she was ready to go again. Anything more serious (like syphilis) and the girl was instantly booted. It was all about ensuring a good reputation and that her girls were clean. She sought to ensure it so much that she supplied her customers with "Mrs. Phillips' Fames New Engines.' (Condoms). The woman also sold dildos to gents and the best French food and wine there was to offer, whilst dressing all of the women in the latest Parisian fashions.</div>
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Alcohol was forbidden to her girls, except for sips with guests, and all of them were put on a regiment of drinking milk to ensure good skin and hair (can you imagine if you were lactose intolerant?). The hopping hours of a luxury brothel was during the hours after the theatres closed in London and a set price was put on admission itself so you wouldn't get just anybody walking through the door. The doors and the legs of these women were open 7 days a week. Yes, even on Sunday. ESPECIALLY on Sunday given that music and card playing was prohibited and all the theatres were closed. That meant men had more time on their hands and Sunday was usually their busiest day. Ha.</div>
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So how did a man go about getting in? First, he paid whatever the admission price was. The moment he walked through the door, he'd be handed a scented silk handkerchief that was his "marker." He would hold onto it while he settled in and checked out the inventory. When he made a decision, he would hand the handkerchief to his choice. Mrs. Goadby apparently allowed each girl to deny up to two handkerchief a night out of respect for them (impressive). After that, she was screwed. Quite literally. Heh. Once a girl accepted said handkerchief, it wasn't skip and hop off to bed quite yet. She became that gent's "partner" for the entire evening. She would dance and dine and entertain him, both of them getting to know each other (this is what separated the upper class brothels from the lower ones where it was just in and out). </div>
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The brothel itself would have been lavishly decorated. Many bedchambers had themes and mirrors located both on the ceiling and around the room so the gent could watch himself "doing it." Any money or gifts offered weren't offered directly to the girls themselves. They went straight to good old Mrs. Goadby. Though the actual percentage cut isn't recorded, most likely, the girls got half or way less, as even the best Madams were penny-pinching bitches.</div>
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To give you an example as to the frequency of certain patrons and I'm quoting from MADAMS by Fergus Linnan: "A certain Lord L____ was known to frequent on Sundays, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and always sought not one but TWO ladies for each and every single one of those nights." Talk about virile. And expensive.</div>
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In a brothel of any scale, be it exclusive or dirt poor, a whore was expected to pay out a lot from her earnings, usually keeping her locked in with the brothel she was working for. Here is a list of the things they had to pay for our of their own pockets: board and lodging, gowns, corsets, shoes, petticoats, hats, ribbons, hair pins, stockings, tooth powder, brushes. Basically anything that was known as upkeep. A woman might have earned 5 pounds and a few shillings for the week and quite literally pay out 5 pounds for all of the above items, leaving her with only a few shillings. Most of these women waited and hoped for certain patrons who would sponsor them. Basically, make them mistresses. When that happened, a gent usually had to pay the Madam a good pound given that he was taking one of the girls out of circulation.</div>
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Needless to say, these brothels offered a man a variety of pleasures, no matter their pleasures. Certain girls would even have known specialties. For instance, did you know that good old King George IV absolutely LOVED having his anus tortured? And you better believe there were girls who specialized in said torture. God only knows what really went on in those brothels, but I will say, I would hate to have a job where my finger would be up some guy's dirty ass all night. Snort. Aren't you lucky you weren't whoring yourself back in those days? At least today people bathe. Or at least...some do. Gotta love history. Anus torturing and all.</div>
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Until next time and much love to you,</div>
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Delilah Marvelle</div>
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Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-32282630583123991942011-08-31T22:47:00.000-07:002011-09-01T00:14:59.391-07:00Tijuana Bibles<div><span class="Apple-style-span" >My dearest Readers,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Every month, I delight in the possibility that you might walk away from this blog tickled and astounded by the underbelly of the past. And you had best believe I intend to tickle and astound. Tijuana Bibles. Have you heard of them? If you have, <b>YOU</b> are one bad ass underbelly historian and I'd like to shake your dirty little hand because this is one history that is as muddled and fascinating as it gets. I was fortunate enough to get an up close look at these suckers at none other than the Museum of Sex itself. I've heard of them prior to visiting the museum, but never actually got to see them in person, so it really was a treat and one I'm sharing with you.</span></div><div>
<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL7wNWOaN5EhyphenhyphenZ4N1kAf11kCX2wf7aiiNUyJHjtmMguR36YSz3OfHCBjoWTSWgBntlnYRc6uofCp-HecinJqKWEeob5LrxFZFoSV65nRVOIcPJWV1G5N6Ah6GetKGFxF0PePZJEs3M85dJ/s1600/Wimpy_TJB.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 276px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL7wNWOaN5EhyphenhyphenZ4N1kAf11kCX2wf7aiiNUyJHjtmMguR36YSz3OfHCBjoWTSWgBntlnYRc6uofCp-HecinJqKWEeob5LrxFZFoSV65nRVOIcPJWV1G5N6Ah6GetKGFxF0PePZJEs3M85dJ/s400/Wimpy_TJB.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647268991990565906" /></a></div><div>
<br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >So...Tijuana Bibles. They weren't REALLY bibles. As you might have guessed given that it is getting its own post on my blog. The origin of the name itself is actually unknown. Some say it was a jab on the vices of Border Mexican towns and others say it was used merely to throw off the authorities. Either way, these Tijuana Bibles have quite the naughty history. Tijuana bibles were also called jo-jo books, fuck books (which best describes them), blusies, gray-backs, and eight pagers, to name a few. I should probably note that these were American in origin.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >So what were they? It was a creative form of incredibly artistic pornography. They were explicit, hand drawn CARTOON booklets stapled together in a convenient "pocket" size. They made their debut in the 1920's but really exploded in the Depression Era of the 1930's when cartoonists were looking to make a living just like everyone else. Though they altogether petered off in popularity by the 50's, these dirty little booklets consisted of cartoons that created "a story" involving sex. They were sold in school yards (they are cartoons, after all!!), tobacco shops (under the counter), back alleys (with the booze) and out of the trunks of cars (with the booze). They were collected like baseball cards and traded and shared (and shared and shared).</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >What made these popular? They were without any doubt funny as freakin hell (humor during the depression went a looooong way) and more importantly, featured popular comic strip cartoons, celebrities of the era, and politicians in every dang sexual position known to man and woman (and animal). You get to page through Minnie and Mickey Mouse's adventures of having rowdy rodent sex. Or Clark Gable using his ears to make a woman scream. Or my favorite (below), Donald Duck in all his cocky glory. Puts his character in a whole new light, doesn't it?</span></div><div>
<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfAKyct270aPNxIDfGQbew7IrYtOqkdmNlTh7MbxBP0qEVLWbPR2cVusoiJ7lc0tOn53Ao-giWMGNTqvUIasK3WRefOSQ_xXRjL-YZmNWflzbZVX_-L0WCwJfAriLF0YWr6NouHYPmccJx/s1600/donald+duck.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfAKyct270aPNxIDfGQbew7IrYtOqkdmNlTh7MbxBP0qEVLWbPR2cVusoiJ7lc0tOn53Ao-giWMGNTqvUIasK3WRefOSQ_xXRjL-YZmNWflzbZVX_-L0WCwJfAriLF0YWr6NouHYPmccJx/s400/donald+duck.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647274687925330258" /></a>
<br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >I bet you always dreamed about seeing Popeye....well...pop an eye. And believe me, he does. Right along with us!</span></div><div>
<br /></div><div></div>
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC06JexIFRLnw8g0YdWxeezjYMG2gWa9T0nwQTHSd5MEfuXDbYkXFCjNwEWTtR7cH4U__il1deIL5RN2tTi0H8kF8deV7ITObTAcd9pqTY92WWdFeR-NiLGtfOFKOvzrb1ADrzD62vJMK1/s1600/popeye.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC06JexIFRLnw8g0YdWxeezjYMG2gWa9T0nwQTHSd5MEfuXDbYkXFCjNwEWTtR7cH4U__il1deIL5RN2tTi0H8kF8deV7ITObTAcd9pqTY92WWdFeR-NiLGtfOFKOvzrb1ADrzD62vJMK1/s400/popeye.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647276447504297026" /></a><div>
<br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Ever wonder where Dick Tracy got his name? Oh, yeah, he EARNS his name in these suckers. As for good old Dagwood? Well...he's just got wood. And Snow White? She DOES all seven drawfs in style. Setting aside the dirty details, the drawings in and of themselves were actually done with a quality that made these even more popular.</span></div>
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfDeh56ssI_MCC7tB5ZDMDKJUUV_h79cr_ZCXHKzb1esjwoBZYqJW2gJ3cfGR5ACti5gwnQdTw31vQFxf10B1UPXs4c0HpgLBppZRO0N_Ane7QYEHsyFrci71Wcamlxt3m3tbAIMwnw5Zs/s1600/kinky.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfDeh56ssI_MCC7tB5ZDMDKJUUV_h79cr_ZCXHKzb1esjwoBZYqJW2gJ3cfGR5ACti5gwnQdTw31vQFxf10B1UPXs4c0HpgLBppZRO0N_Ane7QYEHsyFrci71Wcamlxt3m3tbAIMwnw5Zs/s400/kinky.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647278572323931810" /></a>
<br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Now despite its popularity, all of the booklets themselves were drawn and printed anonymously due to all the indecency laws in the united states (which weren't lifted until the 1960's). Shipments were occasionally seized by authorities but with no source and no names, it was very difficult for them to press charges against anyone. Fascinatingly enough, the cartoonists behind the Tijuana Bibles have never stepped forth with their names, even long after bans were lifted and to this day, identification of the creators are done based off of the styling of the cartoon itself.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Wesley Morse, the creator of Bazooka Joe (yes, the bubble gum cartoons!), was believed to have been one of many cartoonists who drew anonymously during a time when there was no work. Not much more is known.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >In the end, what is utterly fascinating about the depression era itself was the people's desperate need for escapism given the hardships. That need is what created the booming film industry. And that need is what created this titillating form of pornography that took tongue and cheek to a whole new level known as Tijuana Bibles. So now that you know all about Tijuana Bibles, I suggest you keep your eyes open. Because who knows? Maybe your grandma or your grandpa have some of these puppies stashed up in the attic somewhere. Or better yet, maybe your grandma and your grandpa are STILL paging through these suckers, chuckling and tickling each other under the covers as they make use of it. All I do know is that the good old days were exactly that...good. Gotta love history.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Until next time,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Much love to you,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Delilah Marvelle</span></div><div>
<br /></div>Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-47947009090282920892011-08-01T00:10:00.000-07:002011-08-01T02:42:59.150-07:00Pretty Women of Paris Exposed<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSH4nDCdNdPd_3AkY_8gAmeZoeRX8FqJflvGB1wLpKa3ZIqqP7Yw2ioDwVpPQqcIExyOR2ilOt5SuGLSeRMOqSas6zI94GAH6OmuTTOuj0-1LJn08vl0Ou3JxIBaRH5L-cM0IDlZucLNB5/s1600/pretty+women.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 315px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSH4nDCdNdPd_3AkY_8gAmeZoeRX8FqJflvGB1wLpKa3ZIqqP7Yw2ioDwVpPQqcIExyOR2ilOt5SuGLSeRMOqSas6zI94GAH6OmuTTOuj0-1LJn08vl0Ou3JxIBaRH5L-cM0IDlZucLNB5/s400/pretty+women.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635786935106491554" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" >My dearest Readers,</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >As I had promised in last month's post, I had made an appointment in New York City to view a very special item which I had learned about through Tony Perrottet's book, "The Sinner's Grand Tour." Most of you are probably thinking that I would be inspecting a dildo or a super old condom. Not so, my friends. I'm more refined in nature than you think. Hahaha (so says the kettle that is black...). That said, I'll stop being a tease.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >In 1883, a 200 page "guide" known as <b>THE PRETTY WOMEN OF PARIS</b> was printed in Paris by an unknown gentleman. Many believe it was actually a British gentleman living in Paris given his exceptionally good usage of the English language. It was a guide that allowed any man who possessed it to have the address and name of all the women in Paris who would willingly give it up for the almighty French Franc. Meaning it was a guide to all the whores and courtesans and bordellos in Paris. Each name and address came with detailed descriptions about her physical appearance and her "specialty." But it included far, far more than just "She likes to fuck guys and you can find her here and pay her this." There's actually a lot of personal information pertaining to her life that gives us glimpses unlike anything we'll ever see.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Does any of this sound familiar? It should be. If you've been a devoted follower of my blog, you might remember that I did a post about a very similar guide that was rather popular with the masses in England back in 1757 and was published yearly until it was shut down by the government in 1795. Click <a href="http://delilahmarvelle.blogspot.com/2009/03/very-first-little-black-book-in-history.html">HERE</a> to refresh your little memory.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Like most pornographic material in the Victorian era, <b>THE PRETTY WOMEN OF PARIS</b> was published "privately" in 1883 (which means this person would have gotten tossed into jail for printing this in any other way). There were only 169 copies made. Of those 169 copies, only 3 of the 169 remain in the world today. One is in the British Library, one is in private hands (which means one less copy the world will ever see), and one in the New York City Library. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Imagine my excitement knowing I was going to be just BLOCKS from the New York City Library where this sucker was housed. Prior to flying to New York City for the Annual Romance Writer's of America conference, I made an appointment with the rare book room to see it. I had scheduled it ahead of time, because they require at least four days notice. They ultimately decide whether or not they will even let you see the book. Fortunately, they didn't think I'd eat the book.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Now before I get into my incredible five hour experience of "touching" and "looking" and "reading" this utterly fascinating historical artifact, let me delve into its history which will set up how truly unique and historically important this book is.</span></div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK7gLSOptLwJcOxTcu3tIdbyCjlzHgEkPqE0A8UFNS5_Au7D5i3Kb_jxLXFQDtozhBaKfKmVFdkCnOfNxmX_jIsIipoRkLMwUYRefNCYTeesIe84XLbyTd6F-dzLgThHyKk0gz5jVcErT5/s1600/Napoleon_Bonaparte.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 312px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK7gLSOptLwJcOxTcu3tIdbyCjlzHgEkPqE0A8UFNS5_Au7D5i3Kb_jxLXFQDtozhBaKfKmVFdkCnOfNxmX_jIsIipoRkLMwUYRefNCYTeesIe84XLbyTd6F-dzLgThHyKk0gz5jVcErT5/s400/Napoleon_Bonaparte.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635818646777624674" /></a><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >In Paris, back in Napoleon's day, prostitution was "legal." Meaning, you had to be registered with the Police, pay your taxes and allow for twice weekly examinations (because once a week wasn't enough, right?). Napoleon wanted to ensure that venereal disease didn't spread and felt that by making it public while having records of the women doing it, the industry and disease could be controlled more. And boy if he sure as hell wasn't on to something. Many Brits flocked to Paris for decades because of it. It really was an unheard of precaution unlike anything being done in the world. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >By 1880, there were 224 brothels legally operating in Paris. Of those 224, about 30,000 prostitutes were licensed by the government to operate their bodies and pay taxes on it. No kidding. These women had to all be licensed to be a whore and had to be physically and routinely checked by doctors that were hired by the government (sweet job for a perve). The moment any woman was found to have a venereal disease, she was taken off the street by the police and not allowed to "operate" anymore. While there were incredibly established and lavish brothels that were included, sadly, it also included what I call the <b>maisons d'abattage.</b> Translated it quite literally means "slaughterhouses." It was a low budget brothel where men paid, took a number and lined up outside a door waiting to be serviced. Meaning, a woman would finish with one customer and the other would step right in as the guy was leaving. There wasn't even time for her to wipe down. Some women endured over FIFTY men a night in these "slaughterhouses" (dearest God I would have just shot myself). As if that wasn't bad enough, the cost for a man to have a pass with one of these women was only a single franc (which is about $7 today). And you better believe that poor girl only saw a small percentage of it because the Madam in the brothel took a large cut of it. Not all brothels obviously operated this way. Some were insanely lavish and the girls were treated like diamonds, but sadly, it was a lifestyle that resulted in hardships no matter where they were working.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Everything operated this way in Paris until 1946 when the conservative government took over the city and shut everything down, turning all the brothels into apartments and public buildings. What many don't realize is that there was a much darker and deeper rooted sentiment behind doing so. It wasn't because they decided it was "wrong" but in fact that during the Nazi occupation in Paris, many of these brothels oversaw the sexual needs of Nazis. It was a personal shame not just that whores were running around town but that these women symbolized how far France had fallen. It had slept with the enemy. Quite literally. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >With the shutting down of all brothels, the history of anything we might have known about them and its women and the men who frequented them began disappearing. Artifacts from these women and the brothels themselves were either destroyed or sold into private hands and/or never heard of again. Most people may not think protecting such history is important, but this is the history of our women who had no other means to earn their living in a world ruled by men. If that doesn't deserve protection and understanding, I don't know what the hell does.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >So now that you have an understanding of Paris back in 1883 when our "guide" was printed, you begin to realize how important this guide truly is. It's like peering into history itself and the women who were trying to survive in a very legal trade.</span></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZF-YJsl8wJi-7StQBeX2svpeNmGmJCvj0WvDM6KApoqYoFlct3fCpQx_5bli6cFWiI5dKPJSgbHzgNwo_jSDpUckXB6F8DkGgqD_EZ18YekpTmpWc_Lh7rJVj2ILlGztPq1CGaorKRpet/s1600/Pretty+Women+of+Paris.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 223px; height: 360px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZF-YJsl8wJi-7StQBeX2svpeNmGmJCvj0WvDM6KApoqYoFlct3fCpQx_5bli6cFWiI5dKPJSgbHzgNwo_jSDpUckXB6F8DkGgqD_EZ18YekpTmpWc_Lh7rJVj2ILlGztPq1CGaorKRpet/s400/Pretty+Women+of+Paris.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635791657163900626" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >MY EXPERIENCE:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >I had to be buzzed into the Rare Book Room as it is locked to the public. I already felt special knowing I was part of an elite group of people who was "allowed" to be buzzed in. When I walked into the glass encased book covered room, I was greeted by a notable drop in temperature. It was so cool in fact, I wished I had brought a sweater along instead of wearing my little summer dress. I didn't even consider that yes, books that are rare and irreplaceable would require not only special encasing, but certain conditions to be able to survive.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >I was not allowed to take any pictures. Nor was I allowed to use a pen. Only pencil, in case ink accidentally got on the book. Fortunately, I was allowed to bring in my computer to take notes. I was set up at my own desk with a lamp and a special foam book stand with a weighted string to which to set the book on. I was rather surprised they didn't make me wear gloves. From what I heard, in the British Museum, you not only have to wear gloves but you can't be "alone" with it the way I was in the New York City Library. So I got to physically touch a piece of history that my friends over in England can't. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >When the item was brought out, imagine my surprise to find it wasn't an actual "book" but 11 pamphlets. They were 5x4 and threaded together in three places. They were in beautiful condition, though you can see they'd been handled by many before me, not including the dude that first got a hold of it back in 1883 to make use of it...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >The title was printed across each pamphlet like this:</span></div><div><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span style="font-weight: bold; ">The Pretty Women of Paris; </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: medium; ">Their Names and Addresses, Qualities and Faults, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: medium; ">Being a Complete Directory; </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: medium; ">Or, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: medium; ">Guide to Pleasure </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><b>For Visitors to the Gay City (</b></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">1883 </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">Privately Printed a</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">t the Press of the Prefecture de Police, b</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">y Subscription of the </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">Members of the Principal Parisian Clubs).</span></b></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; " >Preface: "Every Woman has her Price." - The Author</span></b></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" >When I saw that PREFACE, I actually snorted loud enough to make everyone in the Rare Book Room look up from their studies. I cringed and tried to pretend that I didn't do it by reading on. Boy did I ever get an eye full of that book. There were no illustrations but the words didn't need any. All the names of the women were listed in Alphabetical Order. Quite literally from A to Z. What fascinated me most was learning more about the details that get lost in history. Like what the life of a whore might have REALLY been like back in the 1800's. I think this book, though clearly sexist in its nature for the author had very few positive "reviews" of any of the women in his guide, it gives us a glimpse into the daily life of these women.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Here's two of my favorite excerpts:</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" ></span></p><p style="font-family: georgia; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0in; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span ><i>D’Arcourt, Blanche</i></span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span"><i> </i><p style="font-family: georgia; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0in; "><span><i>11, Rue Miromenil</i></span></p> <p style="font-family: georgia; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0in; "><i><span>For beauty in stature in stature and elegance in every limb, no handsomer woman will be found in Paris. She has a fine bust, and has just reached the ripe age of 29. She has a slight down on her upper lip, and affects a </span><span><u>pince-nez</u></span><span>, which gives her a very saucy appearance. She is very strong and a fine swimmer. Her lovers are to be found among the busy members of the Stock Exchange, and her only fault is the too frequent recurrence of some slight symptoms of venereal disease. She gives very pleasant balls and parties, where many young beginners may be picked up by the amateurs of female beauty. Last winter our brunette appeared at one of her </span><span><u>reunions</u></span><span>, attired in nothing but a loose gauze chemise and red-satin boots, exactly as if she was only a simple bawdy house wench. Her bosom friend, Antoinette Duret, who we notice further on, was attired, or rather, </span><span><u>not</u></span><span> attired, in the same way, and soon all the guests male and female, followed suit. She is very good-hearted, and does her best to please both old and young. The smallest contribution thankfully received.</span></i></p><p style="font-family: georgia; margin-bottom: 0in; ">Red-satin boots? I want those! And I just love the whole "slight symptoms of venereal disease." He was probably trying to get her into trouble with the police.</p><p style="font-family: georgia; margin-bottom: 0in; ">And my next favorite excerpt:</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; "></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; "><span><span><b><i>D’Ange, Baroness</i></b></span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in; "><span><b><i>Rue Saint Georges</i></b></span></p> <p></p></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><b><span><span>Nearly every visitor to Paris has noticed an elderly lady, who drive in the fashionable promenades, handling the whip herself with consummate cleverness. She is always attired in the height of fashion, and generally has at her side a young and comely companion. The old baroness herself is old and ugly, but her turn-out is always a marvel of coaching display. Sometimes she disdains to drive, and a postilion, be-wigged and be-powdered, with brilliant, old fashioned costume, conducts this luxurious old bawd; while on other days a tiny tiger, dressed in the perfection of taste, dances up and down on the spring-board behind her airy vehicle. IN any other capital of Europe this person known as the “Shame of Paris” would be simply pelted with mud and stones, for everybody is aware of her trade. It is that which Martial, in his epigrams, so unmercifully condemns. She, nothing more than a </span></span><span><span><u>fellatrix</u></span></span><span><span>, or, so to speak more plainly, she produces the venereal spasm by the contact of her mouth, and the tickling of her tongue. Only a common whore, provided with a card by the police, compelling her to submit to the search of the speculum at stated times, she manages to avoid this disagreeable duty by clever bribery. Her house, which, contrary to the usual habit in Paris, is inhabited by her alone, is magnificently furnished, and full of costly pictures, statues, and works of art. The visitor is generally conducted to a splendid bedstead in Algerian style, and after copious ablutions with rose-water, proffered in a silver basin, the goddess deigns to prove the power of that marvelous piece of mechanism – the female tongue. The snug retreat is also tenanted by two or three young nymphs, but none are so clever as this old woman. Her large fortune proves her vogue, as all Paris has passed her doors. Well worth a visit, if only out of curiosity, especially as one short </span></span><span><span><u>séance</u></span></span></b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><b><span><span> is only 10 francs, with a slight gratuity to the waiting-maid, who in return for your kindness, will show you over the house. </span></span></b></span></span></i></span><p></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" >What struck me about all the entries was realizing how real these women were and the hardships and the craziness they must have endured. Not only did they create it for themselves but the men placed that burden on them as well. Many think that the Victorian era erased vice and created modesty in women. In some, yes. But sadly, in many no. Their stories are overlooked. After all, who cares about a whore? Which comes to show that our perception of history is messed up. We want the romantic side of how people lived back in the day as opposed to how they really lived. In doing so, we are slapping these women in the face. They may not have lived the most moral or honorable of lives, but they lived them. To pretend these women didn't exist makes us the ones in need of moral reassessment. I'm just saying. Praise be the whore who lead a life unlike anything I could ever write (though I will try, lol).</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Cheers and much love until next time,</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Delilah Marvelle</span></p></div>Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1620996278470405682.post-23624222244306138322011-07-01T01:00:00.000-07:002014-01-28T07:37:07.860-08:00The Sinner's Grand Tour<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe7q-B3H_gsvdGuKAYQXz7TGug51_hYvcB6QmXq2AzGWOTPLfZdJegb4B_SYzkECIwTvdUl4B6pBam6y8sSFaaBuZcOC2UKPmB8YpvEZu40zK2WnaZUK-HM0gehgqK4e9sy02BTDRyAPqa/s1600/the-sinners-grand-tour.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe7q-B3H_gsvdGuKAYQXz7TGug51_hYvcB6QmXq2AzGWOTPLfZdJegb4B_SYzkECIwTvdUl4B6pBam6y8sSFaaBuZcOC2UKPmB8YpvEZu40zK2WnaZUK-HM0gehgqK4e9sy02BTDRyAPqa/s400/the-sinners-grand-tour.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622399642518584946" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 259px;" /></a><br />
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My dearest Readers,<br />
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So I get this email from the wonderful, <a href="http://scandalouswoman.blogspot.com/">Elizabeth Kerri Mahon</a>, and she's like, "Delilah, did you see this?" and attaches this link to this video (watch the video first or you won't get this post, LOL, click <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gFsY7Vf74mE">HERE.</a>)</div>
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So after watching the video, what does a historical underbelly freak such as myself do? I ran out and bought the damn book. And I read it. I read it like in...oh...4 hours. Let me say that the author, Tony Perrottet basically made me so dang JEALOUS. It is officially on my list of things to do before I die, to visit and see and do all the things he has in this book. His book is pure genius and I recommend you buy the dang thing. It's funny but fascinating and witty and based on real history. Some of it I already knew but there were more details added that made it so delicious to read. And others I didn't know about at ALL....</div>
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Holy God, do I ever want to see whatever it left of the SECRETUM. If even to smell it. *Smirk* What's that? In 1866, in the height of Victorian sex paranoia, the British Museum trustees voted to have any and all pornographic related material shoved into a room known as Cupboard 55. From historic dildos to condoms from the 1700's, to Marquis de Sade's works, to paintings and sculptures too graphic to show, it basically boasted over a thousand naughty artifacts that would make Indiana Jones blush. This room is STILL in existence, but because we aren't QUITE the Victorian prudes we used to be, the artifacts in the room have been since dispersed to other areas in the museum for the public to see (that started happening in the 1960's). BUT...there are still things hidden within Cupboard 55 worth seeing. Like wax cocks from Italy, badges worn by medieval pilgrims that proudly boast the vagina which they wore during pilgrimage (who knew?!), a pipe from the Tudor age with a woman holding up her skirts and showing everything beneath it. How can you see these things? They're only shown by appointment every Tuesday at the British Museum. I think a trip to London for that alone is in order here...<br />
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That's only one<span style="color: black;"> </span>of MANY things this book covered. So many things in fact, I decided to do my own version of hunting down delectable pieces of history in this book....PERSONALLY. So guess what people? Next month, I'll be doing an in depth coverage of one of the items I get to personally get my hands on while I'm in New York City and all of the history behind it and what WASN'T in the dang book pertaining to said object. I got my appointment set up to see it and spent some one on one time with it and take tons of notes. What is it? I figure I'll just make you all suffer until next month. Ha. I'm such a tease.<br />
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Until next time with much love,<br />
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Delilah Marvelle</div>
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Delilah Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560191814393878904noreply@blogger.com6