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A Mind of Its Own: A Cultural History of the Penis
Whether enemy or ally, demon or god, the penis is much more than a body part. Here, in an enlightening and entertaining cultural study, is a book that puts into context the central role of the penis within Western civilization. Deified by ancient pagan cultures and demonized by the early Roman church, the penis was later secularized by pioneering anatomists such as Leonardo da Vinci. After being measured 'scientifically' in an effort to subjugate some races while elevating others, the organ was psychoanalysed by Sigmund Freud. Now, after being politicized by feminism and exploited in countless ways by pop culture, Friedman shows how the arrival of erection industry products such as Viagra is more than a health or business story. It is the latest chapter in one of the longest sagas in human history: the story of man's relationship with his penis.
307 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2001
About the author
David M. Friedman
15 books21 followersDavid M. Friedman has written for Esquire, GQ, and Rolling Stone, and was a reporter for New York Newsday and the Philadelphia Daily News. His first book, A Mind of Its Own: A Cultural History of the Penis, was published in more than a dozen countries. He is also the author of the widely acclaimed The Immortalists: Charles Lindbergh, Dr. Alexis Carrel, and Their Daring Quest to Live Forever. He lives in New York.
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January 30, 2015
A few years ago, my two sons were playing a video game and I overheard the younger one say to his brother, "Well, at least I have a penis!" My older boy replied with, "So? I have one too!" To this day, I have no clue what brought that conversation about, and I'm pretty sure I don't want to know. I just found it interesting that although they were both pretty young at the time, they still seemed to believe that possession of a penis carried some sort of clout, and neither one wanted to be found lacking.
From the beginnings of Western civilization the penis was more than a body part. It was an idea, a conceptual but flesh-and-blood gauge of man's place in the world. That men have a penis is a scientific fact; how they think about it, feel about it, and use it is not.
In the Sumerian city of Eridu, in the south of modern Iraq, archaeologists have unearthed cuneiform tablets that are more than five thousand years old. Much of the found literature celebrates the exploits of the god Enki, who managed to ejaculate both the Tigris and Euphrates into being. After using his penis to dig the world's first irrigation ditches, and fathering the first human baby, he cried, "Let now my penis be praised!"
And throughout history, men everywhere have taken up his cry.
The history of the penis is the history of its evolution as an idea. Over time the penis has been deified, demonized, secularized, racialized, psychoanalyzed, politicized, and , finally, medicalized by the modern erection industry.
I think it's safe to say that anything that involves a penis is covered in this book - eunuchs, circumcision, racism, size matters, impotence, penis envy, and Freud's cigar - it's all here. Whew!
After all that, I think it's safe to say I'm suffering from just a touch of penis ennui.
From the beginnings of Western civilization the penis was more than a body part. It was an idea, a conceptual but flesh-and-blood gauge of man's place in the world. That men have a penis is a scientific fact; how they think about it, feel about it, and use it is not.
In the Sumerian city of Eridu, in the south of modern Iraq, archaeologists have unearthed cuneiform tablets that are more than five thousand years old. Much of the found literature celebrates the exploits of the god Enki, who managed to ejaculate both the Tigris and Euphrates into being. After using his penis to dig the world's first irrigation ditches, and fathering the first human baby, he cried, "Let now my penis be praised!"
And throughout history, men everywhere have taken up his cry.
The history of the penis is the history of its evolution as an idea. Over time the penis has been deified, demonized, secularized, racialized, psychoanalyzed, politicized, and , finally, medicalized by the modern erection industry.
I think it's safe to say that anything that involves a penis is covered in this book - eunuchs, circumcision, racism, size matters, impotence, penis envy, and Freud's cigar - it's all here. Whew!
After all that, I think it's safe to say I'm suffering from just a touch of penis ennui.
August 24, 2017
• David M Friedman, A Mind of its Own: A Cultural History of the Penis, Robert Hale 2009 [2002]
• Emma LE Rees, The Vagina: A Literary and Cultural History, Bloomsbury 2015 [2013]
A brace of books about the sex organs and what they mean, books that benefit enormously from being read in tandem – even though doing so does serve to erode some of the claims to uniqueness made by each of them. Both, in their own way, try to examine how and why the cultural taboos about concealing the genitals have been variously enacted, reinforced and challenged over time, and to consider how such attitudes have made individual people feel about themselves, about their bodies, and about others.
In the western world at least, the taboos about penises and vaginas became mixed up early on with religious prohibitions. This is something Friedman examines through art history, noting the abandonment of Classical nakedness in favour of a rather body-phobic tradition of fig leaves and the like.
But – in a process that is central to both books – this censorship only makes their invisible presence more powerfully felt. Rees describes this concept as ‘covert visibility’. Consider, for instance, a painting like Maerten van Heemskerck's Man of Sorrows, where the one part that's covered up ends up, in consequence, demanding all your attention (not least because this work notoriously shows Jesus in a decidedly tumescent state):
Maerten van Heemskerck, Man of Sorrows (1532)
One consequence of this is the confusion over motivations when artists or writers do try deliberately to focus on the genitals. Are such efforts laudatory attempts to undo the effects of centuries of oppressive censorship, revealing the unseen? Or are they somehow perpetuating the same old stereotypes, by allowing free rein to an audience's erotic fascination?
An important representative case study for Rees is Courbet's L'Origine du monde. The painting is unromantic, demystifying, somehow honest. It works contrary to the conservative traditions that have often made women's bodies an unknown quantity even to themselves. But at the same time, by cropping out the subject's head, arms and legs, it is also seriously reductive: woman as cunt.
Gustave Courbet, L'Origine du monde (1866)
Friedman's book throws up a fascinating parallel. In a very interesting discussion on the way the penis has often been central to ideas of colonialism and racism, he brings in the controversy over Robert Mapplethorpe's photography, especially his collection of black male nudes, Black Book (1986).
Robert Mapplethorpe, Man in Polyester Suit (1980)
Here again we have a subject whose head and other extremities have been removed from frame to focus attention on the genitals. Part of the shock value here, it's suggested, comes from the fact that it was still a novel concept to present naked black men as a fitting subject for artistic photography – Friedman notes for instance that not one of the portraits in Sullivan's canonical Nude: Photographs 1850-1980 is of a black man. But at the same time, Man in a Polyester Suit is inextricably tangled up with racist stereotypes of black man = big cock.
But again – why is this image so shocking (and it is shocking)? What is it about this one body part that is so objectifying, so shameful?
For Rees, this tight, dehumanising focus is part of a tradition for what, in the context of her book, she refers to as the ‘autonomised cunt’ – the genitals considered as somehow separate from one's identity. The same is true of the penis, of course, as the title of Friedman's book reminds us. For some reason, the sex organs are a part of the body that many people feel are not quite part of themseves – that leave people, in Rees's academic jargon, ‘radically disaggregated’. She traces an interesting genealogy of independent, talking vulvas – from the magic cunts of French fabliaux (later picked up in Diderot's Les Bijoux indiscrets) all the way through to the giant talking clitoris in South Park: The Movie.
This psychological ‘disaggregation’ of the genitals is linked to another equally strong tradition of their being severed – made literally independent. Rees discusses the violently severed vulva of Eurydice Kamvisseli's f/32, as well as Charlotte Gainsbourg's terrifying homemade clitorodectomy in Lars von Trier's Antichrist. This has obvious connections with ritualised practices like female genital mutilation, which Rees mentions briefly but emotionally in her conclusion; in Friedman's book, the subject is explored in a little more detail through the tradition of castrati (many of whom were ‘fully shaved’, as it was euphemistically called: testicles crushed between stones and then the penis sliced off) as well as a brief outline of how the United States bought into circumcision as part of the nineteenth-century anti-masturbation movement.
Jamie McCartney, Great Wall of Vagina (2011)
More parallels emerge in the modern ‘medicalisation’ of the genitals – for women, this concerns how they look, in the form of labiaplasties and so-called designer vaginas; for men, it's about new chemicals that can guarantee their performance and behaviour. I should point out that in making this comparison I am not trying to suggest equivalence – having an erection is genuinely necessary for lots of kinds of sex, whereas having some kind of Platonically ideal perfecto-cunt is not. Still, there are revealing similarities in the way that people's attitudes to their bodies have become co-opted by the medical industry. Friedman's explanation of how Viagra was developed is extraordinary. British physiologist Giles Brindley demonstrated his breakthrough in front of a packed convention in Las Vegas, with the kind of practical show-and-tell that you don't expect from a professional forum:
Leonardo da Vinci, ‘coition figure’ (from the Notebooks) (c. 1500)
Despite the many points of connection, it must be said that Rees and Friedman have written very different books, which represent totally divergent choices in terms of scope and tone. Friedman works chronologically from the ancient world to the modern age, identifying various key transitional moments along the way – the Renaissance boom in anatomy, Freud, feminism, modern medicine etc. Rees's book is much shallower – it's really a study in avant-garde art and popular culture from the last sixty years, and everything before that is unfortunately corralled into an introductory chapter of ‘Antecedents’.
This is a great shame. When she suddenly dips back from Judy Chicago to consider the baroque painter Artemisia Genlieschi, you can feel the whole book acquire new depth and scope almost within the space of a couple of paragraphs. She has many interesting things to say here and her book needs much more of this stuff – I would much rather have jettisoned some of the discussion of Sex and the City in favour of more detailed examination of the so-called ‘antecedents’. And while Friedman examines Freudian theory from, as it were, the outside, Rees simply accepts the jargon of psychiatry and makes unquestioning asides about, for example, how Moby-Dick reflects castration anxiety. Her terminology is in general a bit too woolly for my liking – there is a lot of wordplay about how ‘the c-word’ is ‘the unseen-word’ or even ‘ob/seen’, all of which I found extremely tiresome. She also keeps her research restricted to the library, whereas Friedman talks to many of the people concerned, including a very sensitive and sympathetic interview with Andrea Dworkin.
I guess Friedman has a penis of his own, but it's kept very much zipped up – his narrative voice goes for a measured, detached neutrality. Rees, by contrast, regularly breaks out into first-person comments which leave some sections looking more like a political rant than a cultural history. In fact she expresses a hope that ‘political engagement’ will be one of the consequences of her book. Although I share much of her anger, I think this tone weakens, not strengthens, her argument: the fact that there is indeed much to get angry about only makes it more important (in my opinion, anyway) for the narrative voice to retain a certain objective distance. I suppose that's my journalistic background speaking.
(While I'm complaining. There is also the odd throwaway comment that rubbed me the wrong way in Rees, such as when she describes male sex toys as being ‘for people who don't get out much […] a house shared with your mother and your unfulfilled dreams for company’. No comment on the much larger, apparently sexually healthy market in dildos and vibrators.)
All the same, Rees's book grew on me a lot once I got used to it. It's misleadingly titled, but it does what it tries to do very well.
Anyway, I suspect that this tonal difference is a clue to the gendered nature of the debate. Men perhaps feel able to consider their cocks historically, objectively, whereas for many women vaginas are in important ways still a political issue. Whether this difference should be leveraged or ignored, I'm not sure. The language itself – as Rees constantly reminds us – does not help; she has to spend too much time in her introduction explaining that despite her title, she does in fact understand the difference between a vulva and a vagina in anatomical terms. Her word of choice in most of the text is cunt, which she hopes to restore to a purely denotative (she calls it ‘orthophemistic’) realm.
I feel differently; I think it's pretty cool having such a powerful word in your corner (pardon the image). I also can't help feeling that – though huge strides absolutely need to be taken, especially in certain parts of the world – still there are advantages to retaining a little taboo-ness when it comes to what's in your pants. It's possible to imagine being completely without issues or prejudices and seeing a vagina as neutrally as I see an elbow. But I'm pleased I don't.
[Mar 15]
• Emma LE Rees, The Vagina: A Literary and Cultural History, Bloomsbury 2015 [2013]
A brace of books about the sex organs and what they mean, books that benefit enormously from being read in tandem – even though doing so does serve to erode some of the claims to uniqueness made by each of them. Both, in their own way, try to examine how and why the cultural taboos about concealing the genitals have been variously enacted, reinforced and challenged over time, and to consider how such attitudes have made individual people feel about themselves, about their bodies, and about others.
In the western world at least, the taboos about penises and vaginas became mixed up early on with religious prohibitions. This is something Friedman examines through art history, noting the abandonment of Classical nakedness in favour of a rather body-phobic tradition of fig leaves and the like.
But – in a process that is central to both books – this censorship only makes their invisible presence more powerfully felt. Rees describes this concept as ‘covert visibility’. Consider, for instance, a painting like Maerten van Heemskerck's Man of Sorrows, where the one part that's covered up ends up, in consequence, demanding all your attention (not least because this work notoriously shows Jesus in a decidedly tumescent state):
Maerten van Heemskerck, Man of Sorrows (1532)
One consequence of this is the confusion over motivations when artists or writers do try deliberately to focus on the genitals. Are such efforts laudatory attempts to undo the effects of centuries of oppressive censorship, revealing the unseen? Or are they somehow perpetuating the same old stereotypes, by allowing free rein to an audience's erotic fascination?
An important representative case study for Rees is Courbet's L'Origine du monde. The painting is unromantic, demystifying, somehow honest. It works contrary to the conservative traditions that have often made women's bodies an unknown quantity even to themselves. But at the same time, by cropping out the subject's head, arms and legs, it is also seriously reductive: woman as cunt.
Gustave Courbet, L'Origine du monde (1866)
Friedman's book throws up a fascinating parallel. In a very interesting discussion on the way the penis has often been central to ideas of colonialism and racism, he brings in the controversy over Robert Mapplethorpe's photography, especially his collection of black male nudes, Black Book (1986).
Robert Mapplethorpe, Man in Polyester Suit (1980)
Here again we have a subject whose head and other extremities have been removed from frame to focus attention on the genitals. Part of the shock value here, it's suggested, comes from the fact that it was still a novel concept to present naked black men as a fitting subject for artistic photography – Friedman notes for instance that not one of the portraits in Sullivan's canonical Nude: Photographs 1850-1980 is of a black man. But at the same time, Man in a Polyester Suit is inextricably tangled up with racist stereotypes of black man = big cock.
But again – why is this image so shocking (and it is shocking)? What is it about this one body part that is so objectifying, so shameful?
For Rees, this tight, dehumanising focus is part of a tradition for what, in the context of her book, she refers to as the ‘autonomised cunt’ – the genitals considered as somehow separate from one's identity. The same is true of the penis, of course, as the title of Friedman's book reminds us. For some reason, the sex organs are a part of the body that many people feel are not quite part of themseves – that leave people, in Rees's academic jargon, ‘radically disaggregated’. She traces an interesting genealogy of independent, talking vulvas – from the magic cunts of French fabliaux (later picked up in Diderot's Les Bijoux indiscrets) all the way through to the giant talking clitoris in South Park: The Movie.
This psychological ‘disaggregation’ of the genitals is linked to another equally strong tradition of their being severed – made literally independent. Rees discusses the violently severed vulva of Eurydice Kamvisseli's f/32, as well as Charlotte Gainsbourg's terrifying homemade clitorodectomy in Lars von Trier's Antichrist. This has obvious connections with ritualised practices like female genital mutilation, which Rees mentions briefly but emotionally in her conclusion; in Friedman's book, the subject is explored in a little more detail through the tradition of castrati (many of whom were ‘fully shaved’, as it was euphemistically called: testicles crushed between stones and then the penis sliced off) as well as a brief outline of how the United States bought into circumcision as part of the nineteenth-century anti-masturbation movement.
Jamie McCartney, Great Wall of Vagina (2011)
More parallels emerge in the modern ‘medicalisation’ of the genitals – for women, this concerns how they look, in the form of labiaplasties and so-called designer vaginas; for men, it's about new chemicals that can guarantee their performance and behaviour. I should point out that in making this comparison I am not trying to suggest equivalence – having an erection is genuinely necessary for lots of kinds of sex, whereas having some kind of Platonically ideal perfecto-cunt is not. Still, there are revealing similarities in the way that people's attitudes to their bodies have become co-opted by the medical industry. Friedman's explanation of how Viagra was developed is extraordinary. British physiologist Giles Brindley demonstrated his breakthrough in front of a packed convention in Las Vegas, with the kind of practical show-and-tell that you don't expect from a professional forum:
After calmly presenting his data from behind the podium, Brindley stepped in front of it and pulled down his pants. Moments earlier, you see, he had gone to the men's room and secretly injected himself [with papaverine]. And now, before a room full of strangers, there it was: the, uh, ‘evidence’.
The audience gasped. Brindley did not want the urologists to think he was fooling them with a silicone prosthesis, so he headed into the crowd, proof in hand, and asked them to inspect it. ‘I had been wondering why Brindley was wearing sweatpants,’ says Dr Arnold Melman…
Leonardo da Vinci, ‘coition figure’ (from the Notebooks) (c. 1500)
Despite the many points of connection, it must be said that Rees and Friedman have written very different books, which represent totally divergent choices in terms of scope and tone. Friedman works chronologically from the ancient world to the modern age, identifying various key transitional moments along the way – the Renaissance boom in anatomy, Freud, feminism, modern medicine etc. Rees's book is much shallower – it's really a study in avant-garde art and popular culture from the last sixty years, and everything before that is unfortunately corralled into an introductory chapter of ‘Antecedents’.
This is a great shame. When she suddenly dips back from Judy Chicago to consider the baroque painter Artemisia Genlieschi, you can feel the whole book acquire new depth and scope almost within the space of a couple of paragraphs. She has many interesting things to say here and her book needs much more of this stuff – I would much rather have jettisoned some of the discussion of Sex and the City in favour of more detailed examination of the so-called ‘antecedents’. And while Friedman examines Freudian theory from, as it were, the outside, Rees simply accepts the jargon of psychiatry and makes unquestioning asides about, for example, how Moby-Dick reflects castration anxiety. Her terminology is in general a bit too woolly for my liking – there is a lot of wordplay about how ‘the c-word’ is ‘the unseen-word’ or even ‘ob/seen’, all of which I found extremely tiresome. She also keeps her research restricted to the library, whereas Friedman talks to many of the people concerned, including a very sensitive and sympathetic interview with Andrea Dworkin.
I guess Friedman has a penis of his own, but it's kept very much zipped up – his narrative voice goes for a measured, detached neutrality. Rees, by contrast, regularly breaks out into first-person comments which leave some sections looking more like a political rant than a cultural history. In fact she expresses a hope that ‘political engagement’ will be one of the consequences of her book. Although I share much of her anger, I think this tone weakens, not strengthens, her argument: the fact that there is indeed much to get angry about only makes it more important (in my opinion, anyway) for the narrative voice to retain a certain objective distance. I suppose that's my journalistic background speaking.
(While I'm complaining. There is also the odd throwaway comment that rubbed me the wrong way in Rees, such as when she describes male sex toys as being ‘for people who don't get out much […] a house shared with your mother and your unfulfilled dreams for company’. No comment on the much larger, apparently sexually healthy market in dildos and vibrators.)
All the same, Rees's book grew on me a lot once I got used to it. It's misleadingly titled, but it does what it tries to do very well.
Anyway, I suspect that this tonal difference is a clue to the gendered nature of the debate. Men perhaps feel able to consider their cocks historically, objectively, whereas for many women vaginas are in important ways still a political issue. Whether this difference should be leveraged or ignored, I'm not sure. The language itself – as Rees constantly reminds us – does not help; she has to spend too much time in her introduction explaining that despite her title, she does in fact understand the difference between a vulva and a vagina in anatomical terms. Her word of choice in most of the text is cunt, which she hopes to restore to a purely denotative (she calls it ‘orthophemistic’) realm.
I feel differently; I think it's pretty cool having such a powerful word in your corner (pardon the image). I also can't help feeling that – though huge strides absolutely need to be taken, especially in certain parts of the world – still there are advantages to retaining a little taboo-ness when it comes to what's in your pants. It's possible to imagine being completely without issues or prejudices and seeing a vagina as neutrally as I see an elbow. But I'm pleased I don't.
[Mar 15]
December 3, 2009
When we were in early high school, my best friend Eric and I used to play the "Penis Game," usually in darkened movie theaters before the show had started. The Penis Game, for the uninitiated, involves two or more people in a public setting each taking turns saying "Penis!!" slightly louder and louder each time until one person (always me) chickens out or until people start to look around to see the socially retarded unleashed and unsupervised kids imposing themselves on polite society.
My inner adolescent couldn't help but be reminded of the Penis Game multiple times while giggling my way through A Mind of Its Own, when I wasn't thinking of the Seinfeld "shrinkage" episode where Elaine tells George and Jerry that she doesn't know "how you guys walk around with those things." Personal immaturity aside, the book is actually well-researched and interesting, and covers extensive medico-legal-religious historical ground in just over 300 pages - from Egyptian fertility myths to the Greco-Roman era to today's bonerrific quick-fix of Viagra, which treats just the penis as the medical patient, not the sexually dysfunctional couple or even just the impotent man.
My brothers, plenty of your present putative anxiety, if you indeed have any, about your complex relationship with your junk (in the parlance of our times) can mostly be traced back to St. Augustine of Hippo; he had a grand old time screwing around until he converted to Christianity and decided that if he could no longer hit that hot Algerian and North African concubine ass, then no one for the rest of time was going to get any, either. A few influential writings and tweaks to Biblical history later, and we now have abstinence-only education and Catholic guilt. I should probably mention he was a huge influence on Freud, too.
Oh, I also learned that the medical term for a hard-on is "venous occlusion." I was so impressed that I had to text message a friend to let him know. There are little fun facts like this peppered throughout the book, which just delights me and the part of my brain that sponges up minutiae like this.
Two friends are in line to borrow this already. Personally, I don't know how you guys walk around with those things.
My inner adolescent couldn't help but be reminded of the Penis Game multiple times while giggling my way through A Mind of Its Own, when I wasn't thinking of the Seinfeld "shrinkage" episode where Elaine tells George and Jerry that she doesn't know "how you guys walk around with those things." Personal immaturity aside, the book is actually well-researched and interesting, and covers extensive medico-legal-religious historical ground in just over 300 pages - from Egyptian fertility myths to the Greco-Roman era to today's bonerrific quick-fix of Viagra, which treats just the penis as the medical patient, not the sexually dysfunctional couple or even just the impotent man.
My brothers, plenty of your present putative anxiety, if you indeed have any, about your complex relationship with your junk (in the parlance of our times) can mostly be traced back to St. Augustine of Hippo; he had a grand old time screwing around until he converted to Christianity and decided that if he could no longer hit that hot Algerian and North African concubine ass, then no one for the rest of time was going to get any, either. A few influential writings and tweaks to Biblical history later, and we now have abstinence-only education and Catholic guilt. I should probably mention he was a huge influence on Freud, too.
Oh, I also learned that the medical term for a hard-on is "venous occlusion." I was so impressed that I had to text message a friend to let him know. There are little fun facts like this peppered throughout the book, which just delights me and the part of my brain that sponges up minutiae like this.
Two friends are in line to borrow this already. Personally, I don't know how you guys walk around with those things.
Want to read
June 19, 2008Can't wait to get my hands on this one and give it a whack.
April 3, 2013
As a woman, I read this book in hopes of gaining greater insight into male motivation. I was impressed with much of the book, though I think a better title might be "A White Man's Cultural History of the Penis" as the book was entirely written from that perspective. The only mention of black or Jewish men was a discussion of the fear they engendered in whites; there was no input about Asian, Middle Eastern or Native American culture whatsoever.
Another review here described the chapter on Freud as slow, but since I have a degree in psychology, I found it one of the most interesting sections of the book. I thought I understood a great deal about Freud's background, but there was information here about his life that I'd never encountered in my college text books which gave me a greater understanding of Freud's view on psychoanalysis.
The ending was a bit truncated, and I think more time could have been spent on contemporary men's viewpoints instead of simply focusing on the invention of Viagra. This book seems to espouse the view that modern men are emasculated by the feminist movement, and there's no mention of those who have accepted and embraced today's stronger feminine archetype. As a result, I felt a little let down, since the attitude of men under the age of 50 seems to have been largely ignored.
My assessment: an interesting yet flawed and incomplete work.
Another review here described the chapter on Freud as slow, but since I have a degree in psychology, I found it one of the most interesting sections of the book. I thought I understood a great deal about Freud's background, but there was information here about his life that I'd never encountered in my college text books which gave me a greater understanding of Freud's view on psychoanalysis.
The ending was a bit truncated, and I think more time could have been spent on contemporary men's viewpoints instead of simply focusing on the invention of Viagra. This book seems to espouse the view that modern men are emasculated by the feminist movement, and there's no mention of those who have accepted and embraced today's stronger feminine archetype. As a result, I felt a little let down, since the attitude of men under the age of 50 seems to have been largely ignored.
My assessment: an interesting yet flawed and incomplete work.
June 13, 2007
As posted in [http://www.amazon.com]:
*A Mind of Its Own* started off fantastic, opening with how witches were burned for having contact with the "devil's rod". However, the book's ending wasn't quite as great, concluding with impotence and Viagra.
Friedman presented how the penis was viewed, throughout history, through various lens: historical, social, religious, psychological, medical and feminist. My only problem with this book was that the last half was mostly medical (Freud, psychology, psychoanalysis, penile reconstruction, testicular transplants, impotence, etc.). So, the end became a little dry.
There were a lot of information and tidbits that I didn't know about the penis. I'm sure that we're familiar about the Greek and Roman's view on and culture around the penis. However, there are so much more to know about these people. The pagan and the religious views were interesting as well. It was amazing to see that the early Christians had numerous dialogues on the penis, especially the semen.
I was very interested in reading about the history of the correlation between penis size and race. This wasn't about how a race or an ethnic group have been stereotyped on their penis size. It was more about the white view of the black penis and how they responded to it.
The feminist view on the penis was enlightening. I've always wanted to know exactly how it started and it pretty much made sense. However, it was interesting to see how the penis have divided women among themselves, despite them being avowed feminists.
I think there are so much more that Friedman could have covered in the cultural history of the penis. I wish that Friedman had included the pop cultural view of the penis. I can only think of one example that Friedman did. He mentioned Robert Mapplethorne's (sp?) (who was gay) controversial photo of a semi-erect black penis. Speaking of gay, I'm surprised that Friedman didn't bring up the homosexual view of the penis.
Nonetheless, you're going to read about so many people who have made a contribution or an impact on the penis. Such people are Da Vinci, Thomas Clarence, Freud and so many more. If you've always been curious how the penis have been viewed throughout history, then this book is for you.
*A Mind of Its Own* started off fantastic, opening with how witches were burned for having contact with the "devil's rod". However, the book's ending wasn't quite as great, concluding with impotence and Viagra.
Friedman presented how the penis was viewed, throughout history, through various lens: historical, social, religious, psychological, medical and feminist. My only problem with this book was that the last half was mostly medical (Freud, psychology, psychoanalysis, penile reconstruction, testicular transplants, impotence, etc.). So, the end became a little dry.
There were a lot of information and tidbits that I didn't know about the penis. I'm sure that we're familiar about the Greek and Roman's view on and culture around the penis. However, there are so much more to know about these people. The pagan and the religious views were interesting as well. It was amazing to see that the early Christians had numerous dialogues on the penis, especially the semen.
I was very interested in reading about the history of the correlation between penis size and race. This wasn't about how a race or an ethnic group have been stereotyped on their penis size. It was more about the white view of the black penis and how they responded to it.
The feminist view on the penis was enlightening. I've always wanted to know exactly how it started and it pretty much made sense. However, it was interesting to see how the penis have divided women among themselves, despite them being avowed feminists.
I think there are so much more that Friedman could have covered in the cultural history of the penis. I wish that Friedman had included the pop cultural view of the penis. I can only think of one example that Friedman did. He mentioned Robert Mapplethorne's (sp?) (who was gay) controversial photo of a semi-erect black penis. Speaking of gay, I'm surprised that Friedman didn't bring up the homosexual view of the penis.
Nonetheless, you're going to read about so many people who have made a contribution or an impact on the penis. Such people are Da Vinci, Thomas Clarence, Freud and so many more. If you've always been curious how the penis have been viewed throughout history, then this book is for you.
January 29, 2009
The older I get, the more nonfiction I read. This one just sounded naughty and fun, but it was really a serious historical and cultural examination that taught me a great deal.
June 28, 2017
This book looks provokative and promissing, and, at first, totally matches up to these expectations. But then it suddenly and unexplicably lets you down. Let me expand on that:
At first, you are showered with loads of truly interesting penis-related historical facts, and this caleidoscopic presentation takes about 1/4 of the book; to be fair, this part is pretty interesting and full of unexpected insights on a wide range of topics - from jewish oaths to Walt Whitman.
But then something truly weird happens, for the book becomes something like "Modern leftist ideas 101". 60-page-long chapter on racism (by the way, did you know that its sole reason was the whites' envy toward the blacks' enormoous schlongs? Well, the author's ability to derogate complex socioeconomic fenomena to, hm, penile issues is truly stunning). Next comes an in-depth description of freudism and another 60 pages of second wave feminism. Well, by this point one could easily forget what the book is all about.
And, by the way, did I mention that no editor ever even glanced at this work? It has no introduction and no conclusion, chapters are poorly structured and extremely long (partially because the author tends to repeat himself multiple times).
In short, I recommend the first 100-or-so pages and strongly discourage you from reading the remaining nonsense.
At first, you are showered with loads of truly interesting penis-related historical facts, and this caleidoscopic presentation takes about 1/4 of the book; to be fair, this part is pretty interesting and full of unexpected insights on a wide range of topics - from jewish oaths to Walt Whitman.
But then something truly weird happens, for the book becomes something like "Modern leftist ideas 101". 60-page-long chapter on racism (by the way, did you know that its sole reason was the whites' envy toward the blacks' enormoous schlongs? Well, the author's ability to derogate complex socioeconomic fenomena to, hm, penile issues is truly stunning). Next comes an in-depth description of freudism and another 60 pages of second wave feminism. Well, by this point one could easily forget what the book is all about.
And, by the way, did I mention that no editor ever even glanced at this work? It has no introduction and no conclusion, chapters are poorly structured and extremely long (partially because the author tends to repeat himself multiple times).
In short, I recommend the first 100-or-so pages and strongly discourage you from reading the remaining nonsense.
August 4, 2009
Let's just say right away that in reviewing a book like this, it's almost irresistible to make lots of stupid puns. Nevertheless, I'm going to try really hard...oops, I knew that would happen. Well, at least I got it out of the way.
Anyway. Don't be fooled by either the subject matter or the title of David Friedman's book, both of which might lead you expect a frivolous treatment of Man's favorite subject, his Area. On the contrary, Friedman gives us a thorough, well-researched, and thoughtful account of how and why the penis -- not only representations of the penis, but the thing itself -- has informed artistic, religious, and political history from the beginnings of Western Civilization to the 21st century. The sweep of the book is impressive, beginning in Sumer (present-day Iraq, roughly), proceeding smoothly through the Greeks, Saint Augustine, Freud, feminism, and ending with medicine's attempts to lend nature a helping hand via Viagra, shock therapy, and other treatments that might make you want to cross your legs while reading. The latter portion of the book is probably the weakest, perhaps because the subject hits Friedman, a middle-aged man who made his own foray into Viagra Land, a little close to the bone (yeah, yeah -- you try to review this book and see how well you do avoiding that stuff). Friedman also doesn't shy away from controversial topics -- namely, White culture's fascination-cum-revulsion (I swear to Christ that's the last time I'll do that) with black men's penises.
Not that Friedman doesn't have a sense of humor -- let's face it, you kind of have to have one if you're going to go on for 300 pages on penises. For example, Friedman notes that after Herr Dr. Freud's wise counsel helped Little Hans conquer his castration anxiety, the boy turns to his father and asks, "Papa, does the Professor talk to God?" Friedman then wryly notes, "That would have been a local call, of course." Friedman also takes issue with Darwin's conclusion that "promiscuous intercourse in a state of nature is highly improbable," stating in a footnote, "Obviously, Darwin died before he could see a film documentary on bonobo chimpanzees, whose seemingly inexhaustible appetite for sex is now a staple of PBS pledge-week programming."
On the whole, Friedman has written an engaging and serious book on a subject that might have wound up as a long snicker-fest in less capable hands.
Anyway. Don't be fooled by either the subject matter or the title of David Friedman's book, both of which might lead you expect a frivolous treatment of Man's favorite subject, his Area. On the contrary, Friedman gives us a thorough, well-researched, and thoughtful account of how and why the penis -- not only representations of the penis, but the thing itself -- has informed artistic, religious, and political history from the beginnings of Western Civilization to the 21st century. The sweep of the book is impressive, beginning in Sumer (present-day Iraq, roughly), proceeding smoothly through the Greeks, Saint Augustine, Freud, feminism, and ending with medicine's attempts to lend nature a helping hand via Viagra, shock therapy, and other treatments that might make you want to cross your legs while reading. The latter portion of the book is probably the weakest, perhaps because the subject hits Friedman, a middle-aged man who made his own foray into Viagra Land, a little close to the bone (yeah, yeah -- you try to review this book and see how well you do avoiding that stuff). Friedman also doesn't shy away from controversial topics -- namely, White culture's fascination-cum-revulsion (I swear to Christ that's the last time I'll do that) with black men's penises.
Not that Friedman doesn't have a sense of humor -- let's face it, you kind of have to have one if you're going to go on for 300 pages on penises. For example, Friedman notes that after Herr Dr. Freud's wise counsel helped Little Hans conquer his castration anxiety, the boy turns to his father and asks, "Papa, does the Professor talk to God?" Friedman then wryly notes, "That would have been a local call, of course." Friedman also takes issue with Darwin's conclusion that "promiscuous intercourse in a state of nature is highly improbable," stating in a footnote, "Obviously, Darwin died before he could see a film documentary on bonobo chimpanzees, whose seemingly inexhaustible appetite for sex is now a staple of PBS pledge-week programming."
On the whole, Friedman has written an engaging and serious book on a subject that might have wound up as a long snicker-fest in less capable hands.
November 22, 2007
Well well well. What an absurdly revered and universally reviled organ is the penis! Who knew something so small could cause such a big mess.
This essay is fantastically written, thoughtfully researched and ultimately provocative in its analysis and understanding of the mythos and manifestations of the phallic influence on cultures the world over, throughout history. I laughed, I pondered, I sighed and I winced all the way through. Perfect bathroom reading for "anyone who has a penis or knows someone who does."
This essay is fantastically written, thoughtfully researched and ultimately provocative in its analysis and understanding of the mythos and manifestations of the phallic influence on cultures the world over, throughout history. I laughed, I pondered, I sighed and I winced all the way through. Perfect bathroom reading for "anyone who has a penis or knows someone who does."
October 17, 2010
Pulls no punches getting right into the, er, nitty gritty. But written from a scholarly perspective within a social science framework with just a bit of tongue-in-cheek humor now and then to make it palatable.
March 30, 2009
Highly informitive and funny. Having a penis my whole life there were alot of things I did not know.
July 24, 2023
This book was absolutely fascinating and had me hooked from the beginning. Chapter by chapter, it goes through the history of the penis through religious, scientific, racial, psychological, political, and medical lenses, and there is a ton of material to cover! I was both entertained by and educated about the complex history and significance of male anatomy and sexuality, and it helped me understand, just a little more, Western society as a whole. Sometimes the organization of the chapters was a little confusing or jarring, but overall I feel thoroughly enlightened.
February 19, 2014
I picked this up prepared to delve into phallocentric worlds, where the penis reigns--and Friedman definitely delivered! Starting with the ancients, he moves forward through time, showing extensive research and interest in mapping out the evolving cultural stigmas of the penis, and doing a well-rounded, solid job of it, too.
Surprisingly, Friedman does approach the topic with a joking manner at times, sprinkling the sillies throughout. At first, I did like this a lot; the jokes and puns kept my interest alight and focused--I wanted to see what funny he had for me next! However, post-reading, I realized that the silliness made me feel like Friedman wasn't taking the subject too seriously, as if he thought that this wasn't a significant cultural history worthy of deep scholarly attention.
I was also let down by where his focus. You notice as you progress through the book that his focus is moving from the ancient East to the modern West, and you are left wondering about the ancient West and the modern East and everywhere between. And there is also a connection between how often Friedman jokes about the subject and what part of the world he is highlighting at the time; sadly, he maintains joke-less, pensive approach to discussing Europeans and their trying to relate the penis to the mind (example: Freud), but he almost laughs as he discusses those of the East and the ancient world. Do they not almost garner respect?
I'm fifty/fifty on this book. In retrospect, Friedman does not treat the penis's history as respectfully as a sociological/anthropological/cultural historian should, especially when his writings are being published for the masses to consume. Who knows how many people now feel like the penis is a joke because of this book.
Surprisingly, Friedman does approach the topic with a joking manner at times, sprinkling the sillies throughout. At first, I did like this a lot; the jokes and puns kept my interest alight and focused--I wanted to see what funny he had for me next! However, post-reading, I realized that the silliness made me feel like Friedman wasn't taking the subject too seriously, as if he thought that this wasn't a significant cultural history worthy of deep scholarly attention.
I was also let down by where his focus. You notice as you progress through the book that his focus is moving from the ancient East to the modern West, and you are left wondering about the ancient West and the modern East and everywhere between. And there is also a connection between how often Friedman jokes about the subject and what part of the world he is highlighting at the time; sadly, he maintains joke-less, pensive approach to discussing Europeans and their trying to relate the penis to the mind (example: Freud), but he almost laughs as he discusses those of the East and the ancient world. Do they not almost garner respect?
I'm fifty/fifty on this book. In retrospect, Friedman does not treat the penis's history as respectfully as a sociological/anthropological/cultural historian should, especially when his writings are being published for the masses to consume. Who knows how many people now feel like the penis is a joke because of this book.
September 3, 2007
I liked the chapters discussing the ancient history of the penis and the modern stuff about the penis and feminism and the new science of erectile disfunction. I found the chapters on the Victorians and Freud a bit of a slog - who knew the penis could be so boring! Freud is really aggravating - I can't believe anyone went for that stuff and in such a big way. On the whole, a worthwhile read.
September 14, 2016
I really wanted to like this book, and found the history portions to be mostly well written, somewhat accurate, and entertaining. If only the author had managed to refrain from spending an absurd amount of time on ev. psych. bullshit. That's where this one went wrong. Could have been a four star book if the author had stuck to history alone.
March 26, 2010
Funny and at times deeply disturbing.
April 24, 2021
Informative and entertaining book.
February 21, 2022
Very entertaining and informative.
August 29, 2013
An excellent introduction to sex history with a focus on our favorite male appendage. Thoroughly covers all the topics you'd expect to see (Freud, Viagra, circumcision, the sexual revolution, etc.) but also offers some tidbits for those of us overly versed in sex history and sexology. (See below.) Accessibly written for the layperson (and equally fascinating for most, I'd hope!) with comprehensive notes for scholars seeking additional resources. Unfortunately, endnote numbers are not included in the text, so you will have to search each chapter individually, but the endnotes also don't contain long descriptions or additional text, merely references. As for what I specifically learned...
Ancient Greeks aesthetically preferred small penises whereas the Romans liked theirs large like Priapus.
St. Augustine believed original sin was transmitted via semen and both the cause and effect of original sin was lust whose symptom and disease was uncontrollable erections.
In Medieval times a woman could remarry if her husband failed an arousal test but the impotent husband could not remarry.
There was a HUGE market for the religious relic called the Holy Prepuce aka Jesus's foreskin reputed to cure female sterility and aid in childbirth.
Circumcision was originally promoted as a means of preventing masturbation in the early 20th Century. When it became popularized through hospitals after the World Wars the hygienic rationale was invented to continue the practice. (Total baloney, by the way. If you have a son, don't circumcise him. Just teach him how to wash his foreskin correctly.)
Lynchings often involved castration, which was sometimes acceptable in lieu of killing the offender outright. (Definitely not covered in high school history.)
Marie Bonaparte (great grand-niece of Napoleon) tried to solve Freud's problem of vaginal orgasm by enlisting Dr. Halban to remove her clitoris and relocate it closer to her vagina in 1927. She also measured the clitoris to vagina distance on over 200 corpses.
Female hyenas have extremely unique genitalia and behavior. Their vaginas resemble a penis but turned inside out making mating and birth very strange events. Their high testosterone levels also lead to females being the competitors for mates instead of males.
A popular medical treatment for impotence before Viagra was testicle transplantation. The expert doctor in the field, Voronoff, often used ape testicles instead of human ones. The treatment became so popular that the French government had to ban monkey hunting in its African colonies despite each surgery costing $5,000 in the early 20th Century.
And that's just the start! Go read this book and learn more about the social history of the penis. I'm sure you know some of it but the rest will DEFINITELY surprise you.
Ancient Greeks aesthetically preferred small penises whereas the Romans liked theirs large like Priapus.
St. Augustine believed original sin was transmitted via semen and both the cause and effect of original sin was lust whose symptom and disease was uncontrollable erections.
In Medieval times a woman could remarry if her husband failed an arousal test but the impotent husband could not remarry.
There was a HUGE market for the religious relic called the Holy Prepuce aka Jesus's foreskin reputed to cure female sterility and aid in childbirth.
Circumcision was originally promoted as a means of preventing masturbation in the early 20th Century. When it became popularized through hospitals after the World Wars the hygienic rationale was invented to continue the practice. (Total baloney, by the way. If you have a son, don't circumcise him. Just teach him how to wash his foreskin correctly.)
Lynchings often involved castration, which was sometimes acceptable in lieu of killing the offender outright. (Definitely not covered in high school history.)
Marie Bonaparte (great grand-niece of Napoleon) tried to solve Freud's problem of vaginal orgasm by enlisting Dr. Halban to remove her clitoris and relocate it closer to her vagina in 1927. She also measured the clitoris to vagina distance on over 200 corpses.
Female hyenas have extremely unique genitalia and behavior. Their vaginas resemble a penis but turned inside out making mating and birth very strange events. Their high testosterone levels also lead to females being the competitors for mates instead of males.
A popular medical treatment for impotence before Viagra was testicle transplantation. The expert doctor in the field, Voronoff, often used ape testicles instead of human ones. The treatment became so popular that the French government had to ban monkey hunting in its African colonies despite each surgery costing $5,000 in the early 20th Century.
And that's just the start! Go read this book and learn more about the social history of the penis. I'm sure you know some of it but the rest will DEFINITELY surprise you.
March 8, 2017
The three star rating is in no way meant to disparage this book. This was, in fact, a fascinating and highly enlightening book. The only reason for a less than four star rating came largely from the fact that I found the final portion of the book (focusing on the the 'medicalization' of the penis and the erection industry) far more boring than the previous sections. I will say that I enjoyed the alternative view to the prevailing one - that by focusing on the ED drugs we're losing the more complex aspects of relationships and that problems may eventually arise due to it - but the mechanics and drug focus just somewhat lost me.
A Mind of Its Own: A Cultural History of the Penis was an incredibly enlightening read. It traces not only the history of our understanding of such a singular organ, but arguably more importantly the changing views society had towards it over time. This results in a book that begins with the Greeks and Romans, threads through the Church and the various ways religion changed how we viewed our sexual selves, the racial, the Freudian, feminist, and eventual medical view of the penis. This book was fascinating, funny, and altogether a lens through which I never quite thought history would or could be viewed. Who doesn't giving a different perspective a try?
Ultimately this book left me with a far broader cultural understanding than I expected it to. It gave me a new way to view history, a new interest in gender studies, and a better understanding of ultimately how little the sexes understand one another. We all have a tendency to oversimplify our sexual identities, and we risk losing a part of ourselves in the process. By the end of the book, it seemed to me that a little of each perspective was the best way to view everything. It's not wholly psychological, physiological, religious, scientific, political, or racial anymore than a person is. We're left with the same mystery we started with, but there is little wrong with that.
A Mind of Its Own: A Cultural History of the Penis was an incredibly enlightening read. It traces not only the history of our understanding of such a singular organ, but arguably more importantly the changing views society had towards it over time. This results in a book that begins with the Greeks and Romans, threads through the Church and the various ways religion changed how we viewed our sexual selves, the racial, the Freudian, feminist, and eventual medical view of the penis. This book was fascinating, funny, and altogether a lens through which I never quite thought history would or could be viewed. Who doesn't giving a different perspective a try?
Ultimately this book left me with a far broader cultural understanding than I expected it to. It gave me a new way to view history, a new interest in gender studies, and a better understanding of ultimately how little the sexes understand one another. We all have a tendency to oversimplify our sexual identities, and we risk losing a part of ourselves in the process. By the end of the book, it seemed to me that a little of each perspective was the best way to view everything. It's not wholly psychological, physiological, religious, scientific, political, or racial anymore than a person is. We're left with the same mystery we started with, but there is little wrong with that.
February 19, 2017
Hilarious and Surprisingly Feminist
I first encountered this book when a woman bought it from my store and happily proclaimed that she was going to post about it on Facebook because of the recent penis throw down between Trump and Rubio. Later, I found it in my local library nestled comfortably by the books about early humanoids and neanderthals. It is a fantastic book. The author delivers a lot of information but with a sassy attitude. I knew I was in love on page 2, when Friedman talks about how witches described the Devil's penis:
"The Devil's ejaculate was said to exceed that of one thousand men. But others claimed his penis was smaller than a finger and not even as thick. This led a French Inquisitor to guess that Satan served some witches better than others."
Each chapter of his book concentrates on a specific topic, and as a whole the book begins with a more historical approach on the penis, moving into psychological, and finally medical. I was greatly entertained, spouting strange historical facts to my boyfriend with much gusto. However, I will say that I enjoyed the first half of the book more than the second. The first three parts seemed to fly by, while the remaining parts did not. Right in the middle of his chapter about Sigmund Freud is where I began to loose interest. (I'm kinda over him really, a girl can only study Freud for so long!) It was regained in the next chapter, which was surprisingly feminist, only to be lost again by the end. It seemed to end rather abruptly. The book stops around the year 2000, which leaves modern readers with a rather large gap.
But truly, this is one of the most unique books I've ever read, and I'm entirely grateful to you Friedman.
I first encountered this book when a woman bought it from my store and happily proclaimed that she was going to post about it on Facebook because of the recent penis throw down between Trump and Rubio. Later, I found it in my local library nestled comfortably by the books about early humanoids and neanderthals. It is a fantastic book. The author delivers a lot of information but with a sassy attitude. I knew I was in love on page 2, when Friedman talks about how witches described the Devil's penis:
"The Devil's ejaculate was said to exceed that of one thousand men. But others claimed his penis was smaller than a finger and not even as thick. This led a French Inquisitor to guess that Satan served some witches better than others."
Each chapter of his book concentrates on a specific topic, and as a whole the book begins with a more historical approach on the penis, moving into psychological, and finally medical. I was greatly entertained, spouting strange historical facts to my boyfriend with much gusto. However, I will say that I enjoyed the first half of the book more than the second. The first three parts seemed to fly by, while the remaining parts did not. Right in the middle of his chapter about Sigmund Freud is where I began to loose interest. (I'm kinda over him really, a girl can only study Freud for so long!) It was regained in the next chapter, which was surprisingly feminist, only to be lost again by the end. It seemed to end rather abruptly. The book stops around the year 2000, which leaves modern readers with a rather large gap.
But truly, this is one of the most unique books I've ever read, and I'm entirely grateful to you Friedman.
June 17, 2011
Friedman's fascinating cultural history of the penis is well-researched and informative. He makes Freud ('a giant among pygmies', according to Emma Goldman) and his theories accessible and writes about feminist attacks on the penis as a tool of oppression without... what's the right word... hysteria?
I liked this book. One of the problems with a sweeping history, however, is that it necessarily has to dance from one cultural touchstone to the next. This book provides insights on the penis in an American-Western European context. It jumps from Freud to Sex and the Single Girl and feminism without any detours into the penis during the World Wars (there is surely plenty to be said about WWI when patriotic posters urged men fight against their raping enemies), etc. That being said, A Mind of Its Own is an interesting and accessible book that deserves to be read.
I liked this book. One of the problems with a sweeping history, however, is that it necessarily has to dance from one cultural touchstone to the next. This book provides insights on the penis in an American-Western European context. It jumps from Freud to Sex and the Single Girl and feminism without any detours into the penis during the World Wars (there is surely plenty to be said about WWI when patriotic posters urged men fight against their raping enemies), etc. That being said, A Mind of Its Own is an interesting and accessible book that deserves to be read.
May 25, 2010
I found this book quite intriging, captivating and learned an immense amount of the History of the Cock!
March 22, 2022
Very interesting and scholarly, professional but with a hint of funny at times. Like the majority of non-fiction books I have read recently, this one starts with the old Greeks and works its way mostly chronologically up until today. Or rather, up until two decades ago, when this book was written. This is a predictable setup, and one which works seeing as this isn’t a comparative work.
This was an informative read. I was reading it in hope of finding some specific information (visual penis depiction throughout history, if anyone has any good tips). There wasn’t much about this, apart from the customary mention of the big dicks-graffiti from Pompeii, so although it was an entertaining book, it sadly didn’t serve my purpose. That being said, I don’t feel like I wasted my time reading it. I particularly enjoyed the historical accounts up until ca Freud, after this there was really more medical science than cultural importance, with a splash of political turmoil.
All in all a good book, and one I would have liked to see an updated version of!
This was an informative read. I was reading it in hope of finding some specific information (visual penis depiction throughout history, if anyone has any good tips). There wasn’t much about this, apart from the customary mention of the big dicks-graffiti from Pompeii, so although it was an entertaining book, it sadly didn’t serve my purpose. That being said, I don’t feel like I wasted my time reading it. I particularly enjoyed the historical accounts up until ca Freud, after this there was really more medical science than cultural importance, with a splash of political turmoil.
All in all a good book, and one I would have liked to see an updated version of!
June 7, 2020
This book is everything it promises. Read what several of the big thinkers and influencers of history, from St Augustine to Andrea Dworkin, have to say about the dick. Yes, people in history had Penises and of course they wrote about them. "Over time the penis has been deified, demonized, secularized, racialized, psychoanalyzed, politicized and, finally, medicalized by the modern erection industry." I have a whole new appreciation for Viagra, even though I am now aware that it has killed thousands. I would like to know more about how other cultures outside of the West relate to the penis.
What I learned: More so than I ever assumed, it really was all about dicks for Freud. The latin word for bullet "glans" also meant "head of the penis." Fascinum were ancient roman depictions of erections used to ward of the evil eye, and its the source of the word "fascinating." See! All the best facts are about penises! Mark Twain was pro-masturbation, an unpopular opinion in his day. The tunica albuginea is the lining that surrounds the penis, it is what snaps during a penile fracture. Bill Gates made a lot of money investing in viagra.
What I learned: More so than I ever assumed, it really was all about dicks for Freud. The latin word for bullet "glans" also meant "head of the penis." Fascinum were ancient roman depictions of erections used to ward of the evil eye, and its the source of the word "fascinating." See! All the best facts are about penises! Mark Twain was pro-masturbation, an unpopular opinion in his day. The tunica albuginea is the lining that surrounds the penis, it is what snaps during a penile fracture. Bill Gates made a lot of money investing in viagra.
March 1, 2021
Well researched, very academic mind. I certainly learned new things. The parts about the ancient world and symbolism of the penis were the most fascinating. It loses its edge towards the end, focussing on erectile dysfunction when so much could have been explored (i.e. penis as weapon, toy, homosexual perspectives, penis ritualized/ modified). If this book were published in the 2020s, there would be more discussion of technology (dick picks etc.) Endless possibilities in our cultural understanding of the penis! Another disappointing part was that there wasn't much flow, many distinct parts that instead of making a robot was more of Frankenstein's monster. True, the author weaved his "who controls who" thesis throughout but it falls a bit flat when so much nuance was missed out. All in all it was a good first draft.
June 30, 2020
It’s an interesting read, though it could have used another round of editing. The first half of the book was better than the second half.
May 7, 2019
This is a book about penises.
I'll give you a moment. Okay, ready to go on?
Most book reviews don't cover the cover, but this one is noteworthy. It showcases, and I mean showcases, a classical painting of a Renaissance gentleman. The title is overlaid on him, with the enlarged "O" of the word Own, circling his codpiece.
It's important not to overlook such succulent details. And now, off we go!
Wait, wait, wait...not so fast.* Before we go off, I should say that if you didn't get one of this book's standout characters on your birth day, then you probably won't be nearly as invested in the book as someone who did.
The book concerns itself with this question: Who is in charge here, a man or his penis? That question is directly personal, yet the book approaches it quite differently. The reader is treated to varying historical attitudes and actions that resulted from mainly antagonistic religious beliefs, biased racial comparisons, psychoanalytic surmises, resentful feminist suppositions and scientific experiments.
It was all very informative. Down through the centuries people have checked out penises from many different angles and repeatedly wrapped up their perlustrations with a lot of unsatisfying conclusions. I include the author in their number, but more on that later.
For now, let's just add two notes I feel worth mentioning. Scientists tested their fellacious theories on men (We were only trying to help!) in some particularly intimate ways- and men who learn about said ways will probably experience some involuntary squirming.
Second note: had I not read this book, I would not have known that one scientist put tight taffeta pants on frogs to prove that fertilization couldn't occur without semen. I can easily picture this serious guy dressing frogs in tiny pants, and it makes me enjoy life more.
But back to business at hand.
The concluding chapter deals with the erectile industry and, spoiler alert, the author asserts that it answers the recurring question of who's in charge because now we dic tate the when, where and duration of previously unreliable erections. He is basing this conclusion on people who take these drugs mainly for their erectile dysfunctions. He is not basing his conclusion on the vast majority of men who don't embrace better living through pharmaceuticals, so his conclusion seems a bit askew.
This is something he had done repeatedly throughout the book; again and again he over-inflates the importance of hard facts to reach his somewhat limp conclusions.
I would have liked the book to have been more helpful psychologically, but he left me hanging. Men have to come to terms with their penises and this doesn't come easily in a lot of cases. Sadly, there isn't much here that helps.**
You may find it a bit of a relief to finish off this book so you can STOP thinking about penises...I know I did. I reached the final page late last night, then I rolled over and went to sleep.
____________
*That's what she said.
**Yep, she said that too.
I'll give you a moment. Okay, ready to go on?
Most book reviews don't cover the cover, but this one is noteworthy. It showcases, and I mean showcases, a classical painting of a Renaissance gentleman. The title is overlaid on him, with the enlarged "O" of the word Own, circling his codpiece.
It's important not to overlook such succulent details. And now, off we go!
Wait, wait, wait...not so fast.* Before we go off, I should say that if you didn't get one of this book's standout characters on your birth day, then you probably won't be nearly as invested in the book as someone who did.
The book concerns itself with this question: Who is in charge here, a man or his penis? That question is directly personal, yet the book approaches it quite differently. The reader is treated to varying historical attitudes and actions that resulted from mainly antagonistic religious beliefs, biased racial comparisons, psychoanalytic surmises, resentful feminist suppositions and scientific experiments.
It was all very informative. Down through the centuries people have checked out penises from many different angles and repeatedly wrapped up their perlustrations with a lot of unsatisfying conclusions. I include the author in their number, but more on that later.
For now, let's just add two notes I feel worth mentioning. Scientists tested their fellacious theories on men (We were only trying to help!) in some particularly intimate ways- and men who learn about said ways will probably experience some involuntary squirming.
Second note: had I not read this book, I would not have known that one scientist put tight taffeta pants on frogs to prove that fertilization couldn't occur without semen. I can easily picture this serious guy dressing frogs in tiny pants, and it makes me enjoy life more.
But back to business at hand.
The concluding chapter deals with the erectile industry and, spoiler alert, the author asserts that it answers the recurring question of who's in charge because now we dic tate the when, where and duration of previously unreliable erections. He is basing this conclusion on people who take these drugs mainly for their erectile dysfunctions. He is not basing his conclusion on the vast majority of men who don't embrace better living through pharmaceuticals, so his conclusion seems a bit askew.
This is something he had done repeatedly throughout the book; again and again he over-inflates the importance of hard facts to reach his somewhat limp conclusions.
I would have liked the book to have been more helpful psychologically, but he left me hanging. Men have to come to terms with their penises and this doesn't come easily in a lot of cases. Sadly, there isn't much here that helps.**
You may find it a bit of a relief to finish off this book so you can STOP thinking about penises...I know I did. I reached the final page late last night, then I rolled over and went to sleep.
____________
*That's what she said.
**Yep, she said that too.
November 7, 2016
I thoroughly enjoyed this book despite having zero expectations going in. I found this book in the discount section of a bookstore a couple years ago and picked it up primarily because I thought it would look amusing on my bookshelf. I couldn't even work out what a cultural history of the penis even meant, let alone why it deserved an entire book!
The book is broken up into 6 chapters, each about 50 pages in length. There is a small amount of building upon previous chapters, but for the most part each chapter is a self-contained idea. Here is the high level breakdown:
1. The Demon Rod - This chapter was my personal favorite. It explores how ancient and medieval cultures viewed the penis, primarily in a religious context. The section on the ancient Romans was particularly interesting.
2. The Gear Shift - Starting primarily with da Vinci, scientists started to learn about how the penis actually works.
3. The Measuring Stick - When Europeans started to explore Africa, many became obsessed with the size of Africans' penises. This served as an excuse for racism and considering Africans as more animal than human.
4. The Cigar - An entire chapter dedicated to Freud's views on the penis.
5. The Battering Ram - The feminist movement and how the penis came to be looked at, by some, as a weapon or instrument of violence. Very balanced views in this chapter.
6. The Punctureproof Balloon - All about the research into erectile dysfunction cures and treatments over the years, culminating in the development of Viagra and Cialis.
Although some of the chapters may seem more or less interesting than the others, each one had interesting anecdotes that are worth the price of admission alone. I don't want to spoil all of them here, but here are a few standouts to give you a sense:
- There was an ancient Roman cult where people would castrate themselves. During their festivals, people would walk down the street in a parade, cut off their testicles, and throw them into an unsuspecting person's house. The expectation was that this person would give the cult member an article of women's clothing.
- The word fascinating comes from the fascinum, which was a replica of an erection. Ancient Romans believed these would bring good luck, so they put them on anything that needed it. Anything worthy or a fascinum was thus fascinating.
- At an academic conference in 1983, a urologist demonstrated the effectiveness of his new erection-inducing injection by pulling down his pants and showing the audience his own erection.
I'm very glad that I happened to pick up this book on a whim and years later decided to read it. It's not in my normal genre, and I nearly missed out.
The book is broken up into 6 chapters, each about 50 pages in length. There is a small amount of building upon previous chapters, but for the most part each chapter is a self-contained idea. Here is the high level breakdown:
1. The Demon Rod - This chapter was my personal favorite. It explores how ancient and medieval cultures viewed the penis, primarily in a religious context. The section on the ancient Romans was particularly interesting.
2. The Gear Shift - Starting primarily with da Vinci, scientists started to learn about how the penis actually works.
3. The Measuring Stick - When Europeans started to explore Africa, many became obsessed with the size of Africans' penises. This served as an excuse for racism and considering Africans as more animal than human.
4. The Cigar - An entire chapter dedicated to Freud's views on the penis.
5. The Battering Ram - The feminist movement and how the penis came to be looked at, by some, as a weapon or instrument of violence. Very balanced views in this chapter.
6. The Punctureproof Balloon - All about the research into erectile dysfunction cures and treatments over the years, culminating in the development of Viagra and Cialis.
Although some of the chapters may seem more or less interesting than the others, each one had interesting anecdotes that are worth the price of admission alone. I don't want to spoil all of them here, but here are a few standouts to give you a sense:
- There was an ancient Roman cult where people would castrate themselves. During their festivals, people would walk down the street in a parade, cut off their testicles, and throw them into an unsuspecting person's house. The expectation was that this person would give the cult member an article of women's clothing.
- The word fascinating comes from the fascinum, which was a replica of an erection. Ancient Romans believed these would bring good luck, so they put them on anything that needed it. Anything worthy or a fascinum was thus fascinating.
- At an academic conference in 1983, a urologist demonstrated the effectiveness of his new erection-inducing injection by pulling down his pants and showing the audience his own erection.
I'm very glad that I happened to pick up this book on a whim and years later decided to read it. It's not in my normal genre, and I nearly missed out.
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