Cunt: A Declaration of Independence

The word. The body part. The taboo. The book.

Cunt: A Declaration of Independence (expanded and updated second edition) by Inga Muscio

I'm standing in the post office line with a birthday package for my sister, trying to put into words the importance of the book I'm giving her. It's not just the usual dog-eared, fingerprinted, hope-you-like-this-book-I-sure-did present-this one is dog-eared with love and respect. On her 21st birthday, I want to teach my sister some of what Cunt has taught me, and this is the best way I know how to transport life lessons halfway across the country,

To me, this book is near-sacred, a veritable Bible of independent womanhood for myself and other young feminists. Since its first publication in 1998, it's become one of the staples of 3rd wave feminism. Its frank discussions of sexuality, masturbation, abortion, rape, prostitution and politics-not to mention the etymology of the word "cunt" itself-blew me away. It's not that I'd never thought of these things before, but Inga Muscio has a way of both articulating and affirming what I'd already suspected. And what's more, she does it in a way that you feel good about yourself reading it. Her do-it-yourself ethic makes you feel empowered to take action about everything from words to reproduction to sexual assault to menstrual products.

The expended and updated second edition of Cunt is 373 pages long, yet it can be read in a day. It includes a few forewords, the original book, a 69-page afterword discussing the issues in the original book and what has changed, both in the world and in her life since the first edition, and a Cuntlovin' Guide to the Universe. The book talks about almost everything about modern life one could imagine, at least for a sentence or two. The result is an intense 373 pages of philosophy on gender, sexuality, rape, anatomy, self-exam, menstruation, abortion, masturbation, prostitution, feminism, self defense, everyday life, and then some-quite heavy material, but all crammed together in a genial, easy-to-read manner. Cunt is written in gorgeously-conversational prose, as if Inga were sitting over several cups of coffee relating her point of view to you (or hitting you over the head with it, depending on what she's saying). You, in turn, can agree another hundred pages or so in the afterword.

The afterword itself is quite interesting. Rather than completely revising the original book, Inga instead leaves the most of original work the same (with a few small but important changes) but talks about how parts of it are incomplete or no longer relevant in the afterword. Please read the afterword! I repeat, please read the afterword! It resolves so many of the problems and oversights left by the original Cunt, particularly gender/transgender exclusion, child and male victims of sexual assault, abortion, and politics-and even better, it gives the reader more to debate and chew on as he/she is digesting the original material and then the contradictions thereof. While the original was more focused on traditional feminism, the afterword broadens Cunt until it touches pretty much every part of my life. The afterword works really well, probably because the book is unafraid to question and criticize itself. Just for that, you've gotta respect it!

It's extremely hard to summarize or even discuss a book this packed with information, so I'm just going to pull out a few of the highlights.

Imagine the author and her cousin's 7-year-old daughter sitting in a bathtub talking about masturbation. This brief scene is my favorite part of the book, and it says a lot about the message and tone of Cunt. Basically, when the 7-year-old comes to visit, Inga and her musical concubine notice that she is "jiggling under her covers." Inga mulls over mentioning something to her about it, just to let her know that masturbation is OK. "I thought about how embarrassed I was that time my sister barged into the bathroom while I was whacking off with the shower massage. I also thought about how I probably wouldn't have had such a baggage-load of negative beliefs to dispel as an adult if just one measly person had told me it was fine and dandy to bandy my clit when I was a kid," she writes. She ends up broaching the subject in the bathtub, and after initial awkwardness ("She turned crimson, looked at me, and then down at the water. 'I don't do that. I don't play with my wahchee."...I spluttered, 'I know. I mean, it doesn't matter. I just wanted you to know that if you ever did, it's all right. Everybody plays with their wahchee, I swear to god.'"), the 7-year-old learns that most everyone masturbates and "laughed crazy, absolutely thrilled, and yelled 'Everybody plays with their wahchee?" This results in splashing and joyous chants of "Ev-ree-body plays with their wahh-chee!" and for a few moments, an amazingly positive experience where this books rights the wrong taught not only to the 7-year-old in the book, but to most of its readers.

The chapter on menstruation is another one of my favorites, and I must admit the primary inspiration for my friends and I throwing a Marvelous Menstrual Bash last year. The chapter starts with analyzing what we were taught (the infamous "period movie" in grade school) and why women learn to hate their periods. It winds up at menstrual love, taking quiet time and honoring oneself-down to menstrual blood painting and menarche parties-as a way to take advantage of menstruating and fight what the workaday world perceives as "PMS." As Inga writes, "the social "PMS." As Inga writes, "the social requirement that we fulfill the responsibilities of our non-menstruating selves at all times throughout our cycle is the source of our alleged PMS." Her description menstrual products is so inspiring, starting with storming down the grocery store aisle spending $7.19 on tampons and ending with ideas for sea sponger and homemade pads made out of towels. Oh, the ideas I got from this!

The book also takes on much more serious issues like sexual assault, focusing especially on the child rape of the author's mother and the rape and murder of singer Mia Zapata. As wrenching as this chapter is, though, the book still makes the reader feel self-empowered by discussing self-defense and other safety tactics-while still analyzing how wrong it is for one to have to use them because of one's gender.

The issues discussed in the afterword include sexual assault/rape of children, men, and transgendered people, transgender exclusion, abortion, media monopoly, and the white man. This thought-provoking section, which dissects and builds upon the original edition, also speculates on how we need a government of grandmothers-and you, who should also get involved in government. It has its chilling parts as well, particularly ruminations on murders of transgendered people and the rape of children.

The most powerful (and politically significant) part of the afterword is the discussion of gender, specifically transgender exclusion from Cunt, queer and feminist communities, and society as a whole. This is actually one of the most outstanding pieces I've read on the subject, probably because it starts out by openly admitting the mistakes and oversights in the original book-thus giving humble overtones to what could have been a heated diatribe. In fact, it's really impressive that this section, unlike many other parts of Cunt, is not a diatribe. Instead, the afterword provides more questions than answers, inspiring readers to discover for themselves what it means to be a "man" or "woman," for both themselves and society, and why it's set up in binary terms.

Inga writes, "I wanted to write a book that could, feasibly, speak of freedom to all girls and women. And-in my wildest dreams-to boys and men as well. What I did not consider-and this is totally a result of my socialization-is that the world is made up of more than women and men, boys and girls. In writing Cunt, I completely overlooked the realities of gender-variant people." After transgender exclusion was raised as an issue following the 1999 Michigan Womyn's Music Festival, it was brought to Inga's attention that phrases like "all women have cunts" effectively excluded transgendered people (from the original edition-the updated edition remarks that it matters not if these cunts are "biological, surgical, or metaphorical"). The afterword talks about the confusion surrounding this exclusion and remarks that, "in last few years, I've been inspired to think about gender variance in a broader context. This has really shaken up my whole notion of how 1 perceive the world-and my book."

Out of this confusion comes an inspiring section questioning what is it to be a "woman" or "man," what happens if people don't fit into the gender box they are assigned, and most interestingly, when one actually feels like "their" gender. Inga writes that before these discussions arose, "I simply took it for granted that I was a biological woman. When I stopped to think about it on a daily basis, however, I seldom consciously think, 'I am a woman.' I am most often aware that I am a woman when I feel threatened, or when someone-through actions, body language or word-points out that I am a woman...the rest of the time I am just me. Me, asking question. Me, in flux. Isn't this the same for most people?" Is it? I keep reading this section and trying to figure that out for myself-and that invitation to question is one of the things I love about the updated edition of Cunt.

Whether it makes you question, cry, laugh, or make your own menstrual pads, the mirth and gravity of Cunt make for a powerful, enjoyable work. At so many points in this book, particularly the parts about body image and masturbation, I found myself saying "Geez, I wish my Mom had told me *that*!" These are often the best points of the book-tidbits of wisdom from an older sister teaching a generation. And then questioning that generation. And making that generation question itself.

Copyright Off Our Backs, Inc. Jul/Aug 2003
Provided by ProQuest Information and Learning Company. All rights Reserved