{"title":"Pulp Sadomasochism and Sensational Narratives of Sexual Violence in the Postwar United States","authors":"Alex O'Connell","doi":"10.7560/jhs32204","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.7560/jhs32204","url":null,"abstract":"“B a r o n e s s V e n u s H e i n r i c H V o n K r a m m knew every sinkhole of vice and bizarre experience sought by the jaded jet-set as they roamed the sin cities of the world, seeking to plumb ever further into the shame swamps of human depravity. And Jimmy Bergner, an American on the bum through Europe played right into her hands,” teases the 1966 pulp Shame Chateau. Confronted with “torture and terror,” the unassuming American Jimmy stumbles upon “a whole subculture based on violence” as a “sin guest” outside his own country.1 Leftover Lust’s Magda, “an exciting girl who thought she had left all the horrors of her European past far behind her and was happily married to American, Frank Dane,” likewise soon finds herself thrust into the horrors of sadomasochism when “Anton Lupescu, the evil, heartless beast-master tracks her down for more of his depraved delights.” The text, published in 1965, titillated readers with promises of “sadistic love-hunger” and “degradation smothered behind a gag.”2 Shame Chateau and Leftover Lust are two of the thousands of pornographic pulp novels that circulated in the post–World War II United States. Many of these texts depicted scenes of “sadism” and “masochism” for the titillating pleasure of readers, situating the practices as delightfully horrifying. Officially categorized by the American Psychiatric Association (APA) as a form of mental disorder in 1952, sadism and its flip side, masochism, were subjects of intense interest for medical and scientific institutions in the postwar years. Alfred Kinsey’s landmark studies, psychiatric authority, and popular culture all turned toward sadomasochism, querying why one would desire pain, violence, and degradation as part of one’s sexuality. Situated within a national milieu dedicated to defining the boundaries of","PeriodicalId":45704,"journal":{"name":"Journal of the History of Sexuality","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.6,"publicationDate":"2023-05-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"42792270","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":2,"RegionCategory":"历史学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"Revisiting Sex and the Family","authors":"D. Ghosh","doi":"10.7560/jhs32105","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.7560/jhs32105","url":null,"abstract":"T h e r e i s a d o c u m e n T f r o m my first book, Sex and the Family in Colonial India, that continues to haunt me because it represents an important omission in how I explained sexuality in colonial India. The document I am thinking of is the will of a woman named Elizabeth who died in 1803 leaving three children fathered by three European men who had come to India as soldiers in the army.1 She left a substantial estate, as well as a list of debts that she was owed. She asked her executors to distribute her estate to her three children. She named her children and their respective fathers in the will, while she identified herself as “a native woman.” Whether Elizabeth was her “real” name or the name given to her by her English partners is unclear. She has no last name, nor do we know if Elizabeth was her only name, a problem that plagued my research on enslaved and subjugated populations.2 I had an aha moment when I found this will in a bound volume of Bengal wills at the British Library in London, because texts written by women who identified as “native” were extremely rare at the turn of the nineteenth century. One of the continuing dissatisfactions I have with my early work is how quickly I gave up on researching families with gay, queer, and trans* subjects.3 Elizabeth’s reproductive biography is relatively easy to track—there were offspring who “proved” the predominance of sexual relationships between white men and brown women, which was the goal of my first book. As I reflect on my adherence to the logics of the archive, I know that","PeriodicalId":45704,"journal":{"name":"Journal of the History of Sexuality","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.6,"publicationDate":"2023-01-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"49197539","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":2,"RegionCategory":"历史学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"Trans without Borders: Resisting the Telos of Transgender Knowledge","authors":"H. Chiang","doi":"10.7560/jhs32103","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.7560/jhs32103","url":null,"abstract":"T h e i n T e r e s T i n d e u n i v e r s a l i z i n g the West is so common nowadays that it is hard to imagine postcolonial criticism without it.1 Even so, historians of gender and sexuality seem to have fallen behind. This is far from suggesting that the field has witnessed no interest in non-Western cultures. Quite the contrary. Over the last few decades, scholarship on the history of gender and sexuality in Africa, Asia, Latin America and the Caribbean, and the Middle East has grown in a steady and promising rate.2 Yet an implicit norm continues to govern our scholarly apparatus, trickling down to the everyday politics of knowledge production in the history of sexuality. Inasmuch as it would be acceptable for scholars dealing with specific cultures such as those of Britain, France, and the United States to evade regional specificity in titling their work, historians of the non-Western world are expected to designate our project with descriptors such as “in Mexico,” “in South Asia,” “Iranian,” “Japanese,” and so forth.3","PeriodicalId":45704,"journal":{"name":"Journal of the History of Sexuality","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.6,"publicationDate":"2023-01-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"42542073","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":2,"RegionCategory":"历史学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"Defining Sex Tourism: International Advocacy, German Law, and Gay Activism at the End of the Twentieth Century","authors":"Christopher Ewing","doi":"10.7560/jhs32102","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.7560/jhs32102","url":null,"abstract":"D e p i c t i o n s o f s e x a n D t r av e l are impossible to avoid in West German gay print culture during the 1970s and 1980s. Magazines such as du&ich and him printed travel reports, images, letters to editors, personal advertisements, and travel bureau advertisements that enthusiastically described or depicted the “exotic” possibilities awaiting a predominantly white readership. Guides such as the Frankfurt-based Gay Reiseführer, Copenhagen-based Golden Key, and, perhaps most widely consumed, Spartacus International Gay Guide, which moved from the UK to Amsterdam in 1972 and then under new ownership to Berlin in 1986, offered travelers easier ways to access popular gay destinations, as well as information about the political, legal, and societal situation in countries of interest.1 Placed in a longer history of gay travel, these publications are not tremendously surprising.2 Not only were they relatively popular, but discussions of sex","PeriodicalId":45704,"journal":{"name":"Journal of the History of Sexuality","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.6,"publicationDate":"2023-01-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"49297784","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":2,"RegionCategory":"历史学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"\"Not to Produce Newspapers, but Committed Radicals\": The Underground Press, the New Left, and the Gay Liberation Counterpublic in the United States, 1965–1976","authors":"Benjamin Serby","doi":"10.7560/jhs32101","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.7560/jhs32101","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":45704,"journal":{"name":"Journal of the History of Sexuality","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.6,"publicationDate":"2023-01-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"43623134","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":2,"RegionCategory":"历史学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"Entangled Archives and Latin Americanist Histories of Sexuality","authors":"Zeb Tortorici","doi":"10.7560/jhs32104","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.7560/jhs32104","url":null,"abstract":"two research anecdotes from Mexico—each","PeriodicalId":45704,"journal":{"name":"Journal of the History of Sexuality","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.6,"publicationDate":"2023-01-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"41493812","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":2,"RegionCategory":"历史学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"Researching African Histories of Sexuality: In Praise of Excavating the Erotic","authors":"N. Erlank, S. Klausen","doi":"10.7560/jhs32106","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.7560/jhs32106","url":null,"abstract":"There’s what you think you know about sex in Africa. And then there are sensual and beautiful aspects of African sexuality and the African erotic.","PeriodicalId":45704,"journal":{"name":"Journal of the History of Sexuality","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.6,"publicationDate":"2023-01-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"46103009","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":2,"RegionCategory":"历史学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"The Trans Woman of Color's History of Sexuality","authors":"Jules Gill-Peterson","doi":"10.7560/jhs32107","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.7560/jhs32107","url":null,"abstract":"I n s e a s o n 3 o f S e x a n d t h e C i t y ( 200 0 ) , Samantha moves into a $7,000 a month apartment in New York City’s rapidly gentrifying Meatpacking District. In a series of now infamous scenes, she confronts a trio of Black trans women whose sex work in the early hours of the morning is driving her to open hysteria. “I didn’t pay a fortune to live in a neighborhood that’s trendy by day and tranny by night,” Samantha exclaims at brunch. Her first attempt to resolve the issue is to patronize the women by complimenting their looks before asking if they would kindly move to another block. (Narrates Carrie Bradshaw: “Samantha always knew how to get her way with men, even if they were half-women.”) But when they return and are loud enough to stall an orgasm with her boyfriend, Samantha opens her bedroom window, screams, “Shut up, you bitches! I called the cops!” and hurls a pot of water onto one of them. “I am a tax-paying citizen and a member of the Young Women’s Business Association! I don’t have to put up with this!” she rants to herself before launching the liquid projectile. A police car then appears on the street, and Samantha watches, triumphantly, as the Black trans women move on. The episode, as contemporary devotees of the series openly admit, hasn’t aged especially well over the past twenty years.1 When the series was given a sequel, And Just Like That, Kim Cattrall, who played Samantha, chose not to return. But what that temporal marker of not ageing well signifies, I gather, is that the conventions of representing trans people, especially Black trans women, have since traversed the arc of the so-called trans tipping point, where framing racialized trans femininity and sex work as the butts of jokes colludes with actual social death and material vulnerability.2 To that we might add that trans women are the subject of an avalanche of contemporary moral panics that trade in even more vicious fantasies of","PeriodicalId":45704,"journal":{"name":"Journal of the History of Sexuality","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.6,"publicationDate":"2023-01-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"44594906","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":2,"RegionCategory":"历史学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"Retribution, Reward, and Reincarnation: Gender Nonnormativity as the Supernatural in Late Imperial China’s Gender System","authors":"Ao Huang","doi":"10.7560/jhs31302","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.7560/jhs31302","url":null,"abstract":"u n d e R s t a n d i n g t h e s u p e R n a t u R a l seems to be in epistemological tension with the formation and theorization of queer subjecthood, which is generally characterized as secular and progressive. Under the framework of neoliberal modernity and Western “sexual exceptionalism,” “normative queer subjects” have been constructed as rational and incompatible with understandings of spirituality, faith, or religion.1 Similarly, certain mainstream strands of queer theory seem to be committed to “an existential scepticism regarding the possibility of a transcendent, divine source of meaning.”2 This incompatibility can also be found in scholarship on queer history. Such tension has been markedly exacerbated by Michel Foucault’s works, which drive historians to “privilege science and medicine as the epistemic leverage for the formation of modern gender and sexual identities.”3 The resulting overlooking of supernatural elements also exists in the field of China’s queer history, which tends to focus on more tangible powers and regulations of gender transgression through empirical analysis of political, legal, and medical discourse. This is acknowledged by Wu","PeriodicalId":45704,"journal":{"name":"Journal of the History of Sexuality","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.6,"publicationDate":"2022-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"46356517","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":2,"RegionCategory":"历史学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"From Neighbors to Outcasts: Evangelical Gay Activism in the Late 1970s","authors":"W. Stell","doi":"10.7560/jhs31303","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.7560/jhs31303","url":null,"abstract":"T h e y k n e w T h e T i m e wa s r i p e , even though much of the fruit was bitter. A few weeks after the repeal of Dade County’s gay rights ordinance in June 1977, Letha Scanzoni and Virginia Ramey Mollenkott mailed cover letters to twelve publishers for their book manuscript Is the Homosexual My Neighbor? Another Christian View. Published by Harper & Row in the spring of 1978, the book opened with references to Anita Bryant’s Save Our Children campaign in Dade County and portrayed its own message of neighborly love as a necessary alternative to Bryant’s stance. Scanzoni and Mollenkott knew that the Dade County vote might seem “representative of a basic attitude in this country.” In the late 1970s, as antigay and antifeminist sentiment swelled both within and beyond evangelicalism, public appeals to “the family”—from Bryant’s Save Our Children campaign to President Jimmy Carter’s plans for the White House Conference on Families—became more frequent and more potent. Even so, Scanzoni and Mollenkott believed that “many Christian people take a more moderate view of the issue.” Moreover, they believed that “the more moderate majority” included many evangelicals. Thus, their book was aimed, as their cover letter to Harper & Row put it, “particularly toward those in the evangelical tradition.”1","PeriodicalId":45704,"journal":{"name":"Journal of the History of Sexuality","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.6,"publicationDate":"2022-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"42487169","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":2,"RegionCategory":"历史学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}