a quick sidebar.

This month the Atlantic featured an article by Claire Dederer on the difficulties women face when writing sexual memoirs. Dederer, herself, in the process of writing a memoir, suggests that the complex ‘interior whirring’ is key to expressing female desire honestly. I agreed with her thesis, and article, in general. Sex can be difficult to write about truthfully, and it is easier to titillate and shock, particularly when written from a female voice. But something has brought me back repeatedly to the piece for the past few weeks. At first I thought it was the references of Anaїs Nin’s relationship to Henry Miller; I had just read Tropic of Cancer for the first time, and still was having trouble reconciling my relative appreciation for his stream of consciousness writing to his prolific use of the word ‘cunt’ to refer to women in general, versus female genitalia specifically.

It occurs to me now, though, that it also was the article’s graphic that I was trying to reconcile.  How ironic that an article that centers on the ‘double– and triple–think thrumming in female desire’ features a graphic of headless pale pink female anatomy.

The image was designed by the talented graphic artist Noma Bar. 

I’m a fan of his bold graphics and use of negative space.
The image in question is the clever marriage of fountain pen and the female form.

That said, I take two issues with the graphic. 

One. The image of the headless female.

The sexualized body devoid of a head, and for that matter, a brain.

I and you and everyone else we know is familiar with numerous reincarnations of this image.

But to go into it would remind me of a discussion with an ex-boyfriend who once attempted to goad me into proving that sexism existed. This was our final argument before I booted him out the door for the last time. That I managed to resist the tempting desire to toss him bodily down the stairs speaks to my restraint.

But I digress.

The second issue is the pink form. Are all the female memoirists who focus on female lust (among other things) – and the women reading their books – identifiable as white? Taking another look at Dederer’s article, one might think so. She considers a number of female memoirists in her article.

Sofie Fontanel

Nicole Hardy

Katherine Angel

Lidia Yukanavitch

Anaїs Nin

Erica Jong

Mary Karr

Kerry Cohen

Toni Bentley

Melissa Febos

Lena Dunham

Chelsea Handler

All are decidedly pink. (I include the Spanish-Cuban Nin in this lump).

Are there no female memoirists of color to be considered in Dederer’s research as she explores her own writing and those in her genre?

As I am currently ensconced in a village in rural Africa with no access to an extensive library, book store, nor a reliable internet connection, I suppose I’ll have to keep on wondering as to their omission. 

Please do send reading suggestions, I welcome them.

Adaption of the Noma Bar/Dutch Uncle piece for the Atlantic.