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Intercourse
Andrea Dworkin, once called “Feminism’s Malcolm X,” has been worshipped, reviled, criticized, and analyzed-but never ignored. The power of her writing, the passion of her ideals, and the ferocity of her intellect have spurred the arguments and activism of two generations of feminists. Now the book that she’s best known for-in which she provoked the argument that ultimately split apart the feminist movement-is being reissued for the young women and men of the twenty-first century. Intercourse enraged as many readers as it inspired when it was first published in 1987. In it, Dworkin argues that in a male supremacist society, sex between men and women constitutes a central part of women’s subordination to men. (This argument was quickly-and falsely-simplified to “all sex is rape” in the public arena, adding fire to Dworkin’s already radical persona.) In her introduction to this twentieth-anniversary edition of Intercourse, Ariel Levy, the author of Female Chauvinist Pigs, discusses the circumstances of Dworkin’s untimely death in the spring of 2005, and the enormous impact of her life and work. Dworkin’s argument, she points out, is the stickiest question of feminism: Can a woman fight the power when he shares her bed?
349 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1987
About the author
Andrea Dworkin
28 books1,047 followersAndrea Rita Dworkin was an American radical feminist and writer best known for her criticism of pornography, which she argued was linked to rape and other forms of violence against women.
An anti-war activist and anarchist in the late 1960s, Dworkin wrote 10 books on radical feminist theory and practice. During the late 1970s and the 1980s, she gained national fame as a spokeswoman for the feminist anti-pornography movement, and for her writing on pornography and sexuality, particularly in Pornography - Men Possessing Women (1981) and Intercourse (1987), which remain her two most widely known books.
An anti-war activist and anarchist in the late 1960s, Dworkin wrote 10 books on radical feminist theory and practice. During the late 1970s and the 1980s, she gained national fame as a spokeswoman for the feminist anti-pornography movement, and for her writing on pornography and sexuality, particularly in Pornography - Men Possessing Women (1981) and Intercourse (1987), which remain her two most widely known books.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 258 reviews
December 10, 2017
A radical feminist text that critiques how heterosexual sex often subjugates women within a patriarchal society. In the United States, sex is everywhere, yet a lot of us shy away from discussions about sex even when those discussions would bring great benefits. Andrea Dworkin does the opposite of shy away; she tackles sex head on, calling out how sexism affects sex to the detriment of many women. People think that Dworkin said that "all heterosexual sex is rape," when she said no such thing. Rather, she addresses how aspects of sexism seep into sexual relationships between women and men. For example, she analyzes sex in this passage:
"Intercourse is frequently performed compulsively; and intercourse frequently requires as a precondition for male performance the objectification of the female partner. She has to look a certain way, be a certain type - even conform to preordained behaviors and scripts - for the man to want to have intercourse and also for the man to be able to have intercourse. The woman cannot exist before or during the act as a fully realized, existentially alive individual."
I appreciate how Dworkin addresses objectification, pornography, and the politicization of women's bodies in Intercourse. She draws on a wide range of allusions to build her argument, ranging from Joan of Arc's refusal of submissive femininity, to the glorification of women's subordination to men in Dracula, to how writers construct sex in problematic ways like in Tolstoy's Kreutzer Sonata and much more. While this literature review did not always feel 100% coherent and cohesive, Dworkin fills her writing with passion and a sharp intelligence that cuts away at patriarchal BS. With great fire in her voice, she drives her message home: all heterosexual sex occurs within the context of male domination. We should pay attention to that.
Overall, a great book for those interested in radical feminism and understanding the ideas of an outspoken leader in the feminist movement. I deduct one start because sometimes Dworkin's prose felt overwrought or just too long, and also she could have been more intersectional in her approach. Otherwise, a fascinating book that addresses a topic we still encounter a lot in today's patriarchal society.
"Intercourse is frequently performed compulsively; and intercourse frequently requires as a precondition for male performance the objectification of the female partner. She has to look a certain way, be a certain type - even conform to preordained behaviors and scripts - for the man to want to have intercourse and also for the man to be able to have intercourse. The woman cannot exist before or during the act as a fully realized, existentially alive individual."
I appreciate how Dworkin addresses objectification, pornography, and the politicization of women's bodies in Intercourse. She draws on a wide range of allusions to build her argument, ranging from Joan of Arc's refusal of submissive femininity, to the glorification of women's subordination to men in Dracula, to how writers construct sex in problematic ways like in Tolstoy's Kreutzer Sonata and much more. While this literature review did not always feel 100% coherent and cohesive, Dworkin fills her writing with passion and a sharp intelligence that cuts away at patriarchal BS. With great fire in her voice, she drives her message home: all heterosexual sex occurs within the context of male domination. We should pay attention to that.
Overall, a great book for those interested in radical feminism and understanding the ideas of an outspoken leader in the feminist movement. I deduct one start because sometimes Dworkin's prose felt overwrought or just too long, and also she could have been more intersectional in her approach. Otherwise, a fascinating book that addresses a topic we still encounter a lot in today's patriarchal society.
March 16, 2009
After all of the hype I've heard about Dworkin, I found her book terribly mild to what I was expecting. I loved her style, though; blatant, angry, and poetic all at the same time.
I'm completely befuddled now about her supposed "man-hating" approach. This is what I usually heard from others who claimed to have properly read her, but I never saw the typographical proof. Perhaps I'm reading the wrong book?
As far as I can tell, Dworkin doesn't hate masculinity; she hates patriarchy. She doesn't hate men; she hates the men that perpetuate said patriarchy. All sex is rape under the constraints of patriarchy, which therefore means it can change for the better if patriarchy gets the proper boot. Why is this so difficult for others to understand? Perhaps we really are a culture that secretly loves to be offended. Or maybe we never want to admit to being a part of a problem, intentionally or otherwise. We're too proud.
It's one thing to rationally disagree with her (hey, we all think differently), but to call her out on erroneous claims tells me either: (1) the reader wasn't paying close enough attention, or (2) the reader went in with a massive chip on their shoulder. Garbage in, garbage out. That's my motto in any aspect of literature. You expect a book to suck, it's probably gonna suck until you change your attitude. (And if the book still sucks, at least then you'll know you were actually right.)
So I've finally read a book by Dworkin. I'm happy I did so and will likely read some of her other things.
And now, at least, whenever somebody begins to call her out for this book, I can begin to press: "Did you actually read it?" I guess she truly is one of the most misrepresented, misinterpreted, and misunderstood authors of modern time. That's a shame.
I'm completely befuddled now about her supposed "man-hating" approach. This is what I usually heard from others who claimed to have properly read her, but I never saw the typographical proof. Perhaps I'm reading the wrong book?
As far as I can tell, Dworkin doesn't hate masculinity; she hates patriarchy. She doesn't hate men; she hates the men that perpetuate said patriarchy. All sex is rape under the constraints of patriarchy, which therefore means it can change for the better if patriarchy gets the proper boot. Why is this so difficult for others to understand? Perhaps we really are a culture that secretly loves to be offended. Or maybe we never want to admit to being a part of a problem, intentionally or otherwise. We're too proud.
It's one thing to rationally disagree with her (hey, we all think differently), but to call her out on erroneous claims tells me either: (1) the reader wasn't paying close enough attention, or (2) the reader went in with a massive chip on their shoulder. Garbage in, garbage out. That's my motto in any aspect of literature. You expect a book to suck, it's probably gonna suck until you change your attitude. (And if the book still sucks, at least then you'll know you were actually right.)
So I've finally read a book by Dworkin. I'm happy I did so and will likely read some of her other things.
And now, at least, whenever somebody begins to call her out for this book, I can begin to press: "Did you actually read it?" I guess she truly is one of the most misrepresented, misinterpreted, and misunderstood authors of modern time. That's a shame.
September 5, 2023
Given its reputation, I was expecting (hoping for) something angrier and even more radical. This is mostly a very reasonable book.
Liberals refuse categorically to inquire into even a possibility that there is a relationship between intercourse per se and the low status of women.... What intercourse is for women and what it does to women's identity, privacy, self-respect, self-determination, and integrity are forbidden questions; and yet how can a radical or any woman who wants freedom not ask precisely these questions? The quality of the sensation or the need for a man or the desire for love: these are not answers to questions of freedom; they are diversions into complicity and ignorance.
Liberals refuse categorically to inquire into even a possibility that there is a relationship between intercourse per se and the low status of women.... What intercourse is for women and what it does to women's identity, privacy, self-respect, self-determination, and integrity are forbidden questions; and yet how can a radical or any woman who wants freedom not ask precisely these questions? The quality of the sensation or the need for a man or the desire for love: these are not answers to questions of freedom; they are diversions into complicity and ignorance.
December 5, 2013
It sounds cliche- but this book changed my life.
I recall making the decision to read it for the first time, knowing I would not be the same at its conclusion. As a liberal feminist, I was fully aware of the mythos surrounding Dworkin and what a derisive figure she was.
Suffice to say, at the end of Intercourse I realized that liberal feminism was simply re-branding womens oppression for convenience, and that liberation was not so easy. I was well on my way to becoming one of those difficult ladies, a kill joy (and proud of it!) a real feminist- not the fun kind.
Dworkin speaks of consent without catering to males, or anyones hurt feelings, or your 'feminist' boyfriends feelings. Which is most likely why men are so terrified of this text! Dissenters ans those interested in upholding patriarchal society have woven quite a contemptuous picture of Dworkin- take a look at the Dworkin Lie Detector
Intercourse is the book I recommend to friends who are interested in true liberation, not this hugh hefner equality crap that people seem to be stuck on.
I recall making the decision to read it for the first time, knowing I would not be the same at its conclusion. As a liberal feminist, I was fully aware of the mythos surrounding Dworkin and what a derisive figure she was.
Suffice to say, at the end of Intercourse I realized that liberal feminism was simply re-branding womens oppression for convenience, and that liberation was not so easy. I was well on my way to becoming one of those difficult ladies, a kill joy (and proud of it!) a real feminist- not the fun kind.
Dworkin speaks of consent without catering to males, or anyones hurt feelings, or your 'feminist' boyfriends feelings. Which is most likely why men are so terrified of this text! Dissenters ans those interested in upholding patriarchal society have woven quite a contemptuous picture of Dworkin- take a look at the Dworkin Lie Detector
Intercourse is the book I recommend to friends who are interested in true liberation, not this hugh hefner equality crap that people seem to be stuck on.
August 23, 2022
Honestly, reading this book reminded me of looking at modern art or eating at one of those restaurants that puts half a grape and a squirt of ketchup on a giant plate, calling it cuisine. Everyone knows it's splattered paint and half a grape, but everyone pretends it's fine art and cuisine in order to show society they are smarter and more cultured than the average Joe.
This book is, quite frankly, drivel. I was expecting social commentary. Instead, I found mostly literary criticism. But, not even good literary criticism. Her writing is disjointed, flowery, and her ideas are poorly developed. I often found myself thinking (and saying out loud from time to time), "what the hell does that sentence even mean?" I wouldn't be surprised if Dworkin herself couldn't answer the question. She was riffing... ranting... splattering paint on canvas.
I was so excited to read this book.... the same sort of excited I become when I'm about to read a conservative Christian book about women pandering to and submitting to men. (See: "Fascinating Womanhood" by Helen Andelin & "Liberated Through Submission" by Bunny Wilson) These books are such great fodder for dinner discussions with my husband. But, alas, this book was more of a chore than a conversation starter.
Phew. I feel much better getting that out of my system.
I found much of what Dworkin said to be offensive and ridiculous. She asserts that women who enjoy men and sex have been brainwashed into accepting the male perspective on sex and sexuality. I do not see women as pathetic victims of their circumstance. Instead of seeing people who simply disagree, Dworkin sees captives. I sometimes find that feminists have worse opinions of women than they claim men do... as is evident in Dworkin's work... not only in her assessment of women who disagree with her, but also her acceptance and appreciation for what Joan of Arc supposedly said of other women. If Dworkin believed what she claimed in the book, what does it say of her that she stands by someone who insulted the gender she is supposedly trying to shine the light of liberation upon? The portrait of women painted by every piece of this book is one of weakness and victim-hood. I would say Dworkin is as much a woman-hater as the men she takes to task in these pages.
The most offensive part of this book was Dworkin's comparison of the holocaust and sexual politics.
This is only one of many references Dworkin makes to the holocaust, including quotes from Hitler. One might try to assert that Dworkin was referring to only rape. But I believe that assertion would be a disingenuous one. Anyone who has read the book knows Dworkin makes no distinction between rape, prostitution and sex. Quite the contrary. Dworkin asserts that people who do make distinctions between those are collaborators to their oppression. In any case, Dworkin's choice to invoke the holocaust is offensive and should discredit anything she has to say.
Dworkin does have one thing in common with the authors I mentioned above (Wilson & Andelin). She took tiny nuggets of truth and wrapped them in layers of bullshit to justify her ignorant assertions. Yes, women have been mistreated in the past. Yes, there are many places in the world today where women continue to be mistreated. Yes, some men in "the developed world" hate women. Yes, some men in "the developed world" find women dirty and inherently inferior. Yes, some men misuse women sexually. But those things do not make truth of the drivel Dworkin offered up in "Intercourse."
This book is, quite frankly, drivel. I was expecting social commentary. Instead, I found mostly literary criticism. But, not even good literary criticism. Her writing is disjointed, flowery, and her ideas are poorly developed. I often found myself thinking (and saying out loud from time to time), "what the hell does that sentence even mean?" I wouldn't be surprised if Dworkin herself couldn't answer the question. She was riffing... ranting... splattering paint on canvas.
I was so excited to read this book.... the same sort of excited I become when I'm about to read a conservative Christian book about women pandering to and submitting to men. (See: "Fascinating Womanhood" by Helen Andelin & "Liberated Through Submission" by Bunny Wilson) These books are such great fodder for dinner discussions with my husband. But, alas, this book was more of a chore than a conversation starter.
Phew. I feel much better getting that out of my system.
I found much of what Dworkin said to be offensive and ridiculous. She asserts that women who enjoy men and sex have been brainwashed into accepting the male perspective on sex and sexuality. I do not see women as pathetic victims of their circumstance. Instead of seeing people who simply disagree, Dworkin sees captives. I sometimes find that feminists have worse opinions of women than they claim men do... as is evident in Dworkin's work... not only in her assessment of women who disagree with her, but also her acceptance and appreciation for what Joan of Arc supposedly said of other women. If Dworkin believed what she claimed in the book, what does it say of her that she stands by someone who insulted the gender she is supposedly trying to shine the light of liberation upon? The portrait of women painted by every piece of this book is one of weakness and victim-hood. I would say Dworkin is as much a woman-hater as the men she takes to task in these pages.
The most offensive part of this book was Dworkin's comparison of the holocaust and sexual politics.
There is no analogue anywhere among subordinate groups to this experience of being made for intercourse: for penetration, entry, occupation. There is no analog in occupied countries or in dominated races or imprisoned dissidents or in colonized cultures or in the submission of children to adults or in the atrocities that have marked the twentieth century ranging from Auschwitz to the Gulag. There is nothing exactly the same, and this is not because the political invasion and significance of intercourse is banal up against these other hierarchies and brutalities. Intercourse is a particular reality for women as an inferior class; and it has in it, as part of it, violation of boundaries, taking over, occupation, destruction of privacy, all of which are construed to be normal and also fundamental to continuing human existence.
This is only one of many references Dworkin makes to the holocaust, including quotes from Hitler. One might try to assert that Dworkin was referring to only rape. But I believe that assertion would be a disingenuous one. Anyone who has read the book knows Dworkin makes no distinction between rape, prostitution and sex. Quite the contrary. Dworkin asserts that people who do make distinctions between those are collaborators to their oppression. In any case, Dworkin's choice to invoke the holocaust is offensive and should discredit anything she has to say.
Dworkin does have one thing in common with the authors I mentioned above (Wilson & Andelin). She took tiny nuggets of truth and wrapped them in layers of bullshit to justify her ignorant assertions. Yes, women have been mistreated in the past. Yes, there are many places in the world today where women continue to be mistreated. Yes, some men in "the developed world" hate women. Yes, some men in "the developed world" find women dirty and inherently inferior. Yes, some men misuse women sexually. But those things do not make truth of the drivel Dworkin offered up in "Intercourse."
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
December 17, 2011
Anyone who hates Dworkin should at least give this book a chance before forming an intractable opinion.
Merging feminist literary criticism with political polemic, Intercourse lays out a psycho-social-political analysis of heterosexual fucking, with chapters on Possession, Dirt, Law, Stigma, Virginity, Repulsion and Communion. Dworkin uses historical and literary texts to explore the meanings intercourse has for women and men, the ways in which women internalise male dominance through sex, the use of rape and racial-sexualisation as a political weapon, and sex as redemption. The chapter on Virginity stands out as a loving ode to Joan of Arc’s militant defiance of traditional femininity: Dworkin contrasts Joan’s notorious virginity, a rebellion against women’s sexual servitude, with the descent into adultery which destroys Madame Bovary. Another notable chapter is Communion, in which she uses James Baldwin’s Another Country and Giovanni’s Room to explore emotionally powerful sex: “With this grace, fucking can be a communion, a sharing, mutual possession of an enormous mystery; it has the intensity and magnificence of violent feeling transformed into tenderness” (page 76).
Dworkin’s arguments in this book are often summarized as “all sex is rape,” a sloppy truncation of her complex, historical analysis of the ways gender constructs intercourse, and intercourse constructs gender. Dworkin never once claims that all sex is rape: she emphasizes the fact that heterosexual intercourse always takes place within a social context of male dominance. For example, “Most women are not distinct, private individuals to most men; and so the fuck tends towards the class assertion of dominance. Women live inside this reality of being owned and being fucked: are sensate inside it; the body learning to respond to what male dominance offers as touch, as sex, as love,” (p.83). Dworkin describes fucking as an social institution which perpetuates and protects patriarchy through asserting male ownership over women (male virility and female inferiority), and by regulating through punishment who can fuck who and how (the chapter on Law has a detailed explication of sodomy laws and prohibitions of homosexuality).
To characterize Dworkin as ‘anti-sex’ is grossly simplistic; rather, she locates her politics in an embodied critique of sexual power dynamics and constructions of gender, arguing that in a patriarchal society, female self-determination is always already shaped by male dominance. Therefore, what heterosexual sex means for and feels like to women must be understood as a product of centuries of patriarchal rule. Though marred as a biological essentialist by some critics, Dworkin’s actual analysis is more along the lines of poetic marxism: she writes lyrically about women’s experiences of fucking, grounded in the particular historical, social, political context of Western patriarchy. When Dworkin says, “There is never a real privacy of the body that can coexist with intercourse: with being entered…The thrusting is persistent invasion,” she is not describing what she sees as an essential, objective condition of being a woman, but rather she depicts the socially-inscribed ontology of femininity which has arisen from the context of male domination. Patriarchy needs to construct women as fundamentally different from men, so it emphasizes the penetrability of the vagina, and the female body’s lack of privacy, because men do not have vaginas and women do. Patriarchy also brutally demonizes the penetration of men, sodomy, because for men to be fucked the way women are fucked challenges this sexual power structure, the rigid dichotomy of gender.
Queer readers may find Dworkin’s focus on heterosexual sex rather narrowly normative, and indeed she fails to consider lesbian eroticism, or the subversion of queer identities, despite some discussion of gay sexuality. Her analysis relies on making a lot of generalizations about women and men’s interactions, mostly void of cultural specificity, which basically amounts to her universalising a white subject position. The only chapter which really acknowledges race and cultural difference is Dirt/Death, which connects narratives of feminine sordidness with constructions of racial inferiority used to condone violence against African-Americans and Jews. These narratives, perpetuated by dominant whites, portray all women, but particularly women of colour as inherently degraded and therefore rapable: “Racially motivated rape is considerably protected by the misogyny that finds the rape of women as such no atrocity at all” (pg.224) The fact that discussion of racial difference is limited to one chapter is problematic in a book which is supposed to consider intercourse ‘in general’; separating and containing her discussion of race this way reveals that the rest of her analysis is centered on white heterosexuality.
Stylistically, Dworkin has a tendency to repeat herself, belabour a point, and use a startling number of semi-colons. But while this book is limited in scope and subject position, it is still an important contribution to feminist theory as an analysis of heterosexuality, even if only to illuminate the historical development of radical feminist thought.
Here’s an essay critiquing the new foreword by Ariel Levy, arguing that her portrayal of Dworkin is anti-feminist: http://www.nostatusquo.com/ACLU/dwork...
Merging feminist literary criticism with political polemic, Intercourse lays out a psycho-social-political analysis of heterosexual fucking, with chapters on Possession, Dirt, Law, Stigma, Virginity, Repulsion and Communion. Dworkin uses historical and literary texts to explore the meanings intercourse has for women and men, the ways in which women internalise male dominance through sex, the use of rape and racial-sexualisation as a political weapon, and sex as redemption. The chapter on Virginity stands out as a loving ode to Joan of Arc’s militant defiance of traditional femininity: Dworkin contrasts Joan’s notorious virginity, a rebellion against women’s sexual servitude, with the descent into adultery which destroys Madame Bovary. Another notable chapter is Communion, in which she uses James Baldwin’s Another Country and Giovanni’s Room to explore emotionally powerful sex: “With this grace, fucking can be a communion, a sharing, mutual possession of an enormous mystery; it has the intensity and magnificence of violent feeling transformed into tenderness” (page 76).
Dworkin’s arguments in this book are often summarized as “all sex is rape,” a sloppy truncation of her complex, historical analysis of the ways gender constructs intercourse, and intercourse constructs gender. Dworkin never once claims that all sex is rape: she emphasizes the fact that heterosexual intercourse always takes place within a social context of male dominance. For example, “Most women are not distinct, private individuals to most men; and so the fuck tends towards the class assertion of dominance. Women live inside this reality of being owned and being fucked: are sensate inside it; the body learning to respond to what male dominance offers as touch, as sex, as love,” (p.83). Dworkin describes fucking as an social institution which perpetuates and protects patriarchy through asserting male ownership over women (male virility and female inferiority), and by regulating through punishment who can fuck who and how (the chapter on Law has a detailed explication of sodomy laws and prohibitions of homosexuality).
To characterize Dworkin as ‘anti-sex’ is grossly simplistic; rather, she locates her politics in an embodied critique of sexual power dynamics and constructions of gender, arguing that in a patriarchal society, female self-determination is always already shaped by male dominance. Therefore, what heterosexual sex means for and feels like to women must be understood as a product of centuries of patriarchal rule. Though marred as a biological essentialist by some critics, Dworkin’s actual analysis is more along the lines of poetic marxism: she writes lyrically about women’s experiences of fucking, grounded in the particular historical, social, political context of Western patriarchy. When Dworkin says, “There is never a real privacy of the body that can coexist with intercourse: with being entered…The thrusting is persistent invasion,” she is not describing what she sees as an essential, objective condition of being a woman, but rather she depicts the socially-inscribed ontology of femininity which has arisen from the context of male domination. Patriarchy needs to construct women as fundamentally different from men, so it emphasizes the penetrability of the vagina, and the female body’s lack of privacy, because men do not have vaginas and women do. Patriarchy also brutally demonizes the penetration of men, sodomy, because for men to be fucked the way women are fucked challenges this sexual power structure, the rigid dichotomy of gender.
Queer readers may find Dworkin’s focus on heterosexual sex rather narrowly normative, and indeed she fails to consider lesbian eroticism, or the subversion of queer identities, despite some discussion of gay sexuality. Her analysis relies on making a lot of generalizations about women and men’s interactions, mostly void of cultural specificity, which basically amounts to her universalising a white subject position. The only chapter which really acknowledges race and cultural difference is Dirt/Death, which connects narratives of feminine sordidness with constructions of racial inferiority used to condone violence against African-Americans and Jews. These narratives, perpetuated by dominant whites, portray all women, but particularly women of colour as inherently degraded and therefore rapable: “Racially motivated rape is considerably protected by the misogyny that finds the rape of women as such no atrocity at all” (pg.224) The fact that discussion of racial difference is limited to one chapter is problematic in a book which is supposed to consider intercourse ‘in general’; separating and containing her discussion of race this way reveals that the rest of her analysis is centered on white heterosexuality.
Stylistically, Dworkin has a tendency to repeat herself, belabour a point, and use a startling number of semi-colons. But while this book is limited in scope and subject position, it is still an important contribution to feminist theory as an analysis of heterosexuality, even if only to illuminate the historical development of radical feminist thought.
Here’s an essay critiquing the new foreword by Ariel Levy, arguing that her portrayal of Dworkin is anti-feminist: http://www.nostatusquo.com/ACLU/dwork...
March 24, 2014
I went into this book expecting something far simpler: angry, caricatured polemic; easy to dismiss and depressing to read. Instead I found an extraordinary piece of writing that will echo through my head for some time to come - as a dark, apocalyptic vision of hyper-gendered sexuality that appalls and disturbs to the core, even as I struggle to reject it.
Difficult, confrontational, unpleasant, idiosyncratic, exasperating - but also full of beautiful, surging - almost chant-like - prose, compelling ideas and powerful polemic, Intercourse is not a book that can be easily digested or ignored. Dworkin's apocalyptic perspective often overwhelms her analysis, and I was frequently infuriated by her relentlessly single-minded interpretations. But reading Intercourse made me understand why Dworkin was so often described as a powerful public speaker, because her written prose is suffused with the rolling rhythms and repetitions of an old-school rabble-rousing preacher, driven by a slowly building intensity and righteous conviction that makes the final chapters roar like a raging hurricane of fury.
I don't want to sound like a convert; there's plenty in Dworkin's politics that makes me deeply uneasy. But I can totally see why her impact on the feminist movement (and the wider debates around sexuality and pornography in contemporary society) was so significant. I recently read Gail Dines' Pornland, which I found simplistic, patronising and shallow. Compared with Dines, Dworkin is infinitely more interesting.
Difficult, confrontational, unpleasant, idiosyncratic, exasperating - but also full of beautiful, surging - almost chant-like - prose, compelling ideas and powerful polemic, Intercourse is not a book that can be easily digested or ignored. Dworkin's apocalyptic perspective often overwhelms her analysis, and I was frequently infuriated by her relentlessly single-minded interpretations. But reading Intercourse made me understand why Dworkin was so often described as a powerful public speaker, because her written prose is suffused with the rolling rhythms and repetitions of an old-school rabble-rousing preacher, driven by a slowly building intensity and righteous conviction that makes the final chapters roar like a raging hurricane of fury.
I don't want to sound like a convert; there's plenty in Dworkin's politics that makes me deeply uneasy. But I can totally see why her impact on the feminist movement (and the wider debates around sexuality and pornography in contemporary society) was so significant. I recently read Gail Dines' Pornland, which I found simplistic, patronising and shallow. Compared with Dines, Dworkin is infinitely more interesting.
October 10, 2023
Not at all what I expected. I thought the author would delve into the complexity of the female experience in a sex-motivated world.
I was looking forward to her expanding the insights she had mentioned in her previous book (Right-Wing Women). Especially the claim that society perceives women's, as a class, most significant contribution to be their reproductive organs and abilities (not creativity, intelligence, energy, passion, etc.)
However, the book is only her interpretation and opinions of certain books she has read. It offers little to no analysis or criticism of societal norms and power struggles, something I was looking for.
I was looking forward to her expanding the insights she had mentioned in her previous book (Right-Wing Women). Especially the claim that society perceives women's, as a class, most significant contribution to be their reproductive organs and abilities (not creativity, intelligence, energy, passion, etc.)
However, the book is only her interpretation and opinions of certain books she has read. It offers little to no analysis or criticism of societal norms and power struggles, something I was looking for.
May 27, 2012
The woman was brilliant. A must-read.
February 9, 2011
This book has a serious reputation. It has been both derided and lauded. It's touted as the pinnacle of man-hating radical feminism. It is claimed that within the book, Dworkin says that all heterosexual intercourse is rape. With a reputation such as that, how could I resist reading it?
First things first. Dworkin never says that all heterosexual intercourse is rape. She just asks the question - how does our culture, our politics, our society, our feminism intersect with the act of intercourse? Can intercourse ever be removed and set free from misogyny and patriarchy? A lot of people - don't like the fact that Dworkin dared to ask that question. But Dworkin does dare. Further than that, she refuses to mince her words or hide her anger. She does not make the journey into critically examining the act of intercourse easy and she will not take "just because" as an answer. The result is not pretty - sometimes it is horrendously upsetting. But it talks about the act of intercourse with a truth that you will not find anywhere else encompassing many, many topics and deep analysis.
This book will not, however, give you answers. Dworkin lays it out bare but she does not make it easy on her reader and tell you how it is. She gives you the information, the reasoning, the situation but she offers no conclusion. This is because the conclusion should be yours - especially with such an intimate act as intercourse. This is not a lecture, the book is an opportunity for you to look at the act of intercourse in a different way; for you to question the world and yourself. You can take that opportunity or you can reject it and learn nothing. I found that I did not agree with all of Dworkin's analysis but other parts of the book were moving, enlightening and powerful.
Overall though there is one part of Intercourse that is hardly ever mentioned by it's detractors (and I do wonder if these people have ever read it). Underlying all the anger is a pleading, a passion for what the physical intimacy of intercourse has the potential to be and a sadness for how often we fall short. If anything, the book is pro-sex. It's just anti-violence, -oppression and -bitterness. It calls for both men and women to have the freedom to be fully human. I think that is a message we all still need to hear.
First things first. Dworkin never says that all heterosexual intercourse is rape. She just asks the question - how does our culture, our politics, our society, our feminism intersect with the act of intercourse? Can intercourse ever be removed and set free from misogyny and patriarchy? A lot of people - don't like the fact that Dworkin dared to ask that question. But Dworkin does dare. Further than that, she refuses to mince her words or hide her anger. She does not make the journey into critically examining the act of intercourse easy and she will not take "just because" as an answer. The result is not pretty - sometimes it is horrendously upsetting. But it talks about the act of intercourse with a truth that you will not find anywhere else encompassing many, many topics and deep analysis.
This book will not, however, give you answers. Dworkin lays it out bare but she does not make it easy on her reader and tell you how it is. She gives you the information, the reasoning, the situation but she offers no conclusion. This is because the conclusion should be yours - especially with such an intimate act as intercourse. This is not a lecture, the book is an opportunity for you to look at the act of intercourse in a different way; for you to question the world and yourself. You can take that opportunity or you can reject it and learn nothing. I found that I did not agree with all of Dworkin's analysis but other parts of the book were moving, enlightening and powerful.
Overall though there is one part of Intercourse that is hardly ever mentioned by it's detractors (and I do wonder if these people have ever read it). Underlying all the anger is a pleading, a passion for what the physical intimacy of intercourse has the potential to be and a sadness for how often we fall short. If anything, the book is pro-sex. It's just anti-violence, -oppression and -bitterness. It calls for both men and women to have the freedom to be fully human. I think that is a message we all still need to hear.
September 21, 2016
While less radical than its reputation, ("All heterosexual intercourse is rape" is a false quote often attributed to this work), it still reigns supreme as the most unapologetically radical, yet rational, book available in feminist literature. It belongs on the proverbial shelf of feminist Bibles along with Faludi's Backlash, Friedan's Feminine Mystique and Simone de Beauvoir's Second Sex.
"Radical Feminism" isn't the dirty word the mainstream, and even those within the movement have made it out to be. Personally, I found Dworkin's unabashed nose-thumbing at the patriarchal status quo both admiring and refreshing among so very many more apologetic/inclusive/submissive works easily found within this genre. Andrea Dworkin could give a rat's ass if patriarchal society thinks well of her or validates her as a rational academic. And hot damn, that made me want to applaud her. Feminism is, was and always will be, Women's Advocacy. It is not a movement meant to include the upper members of the existing power structure. Dworkin nails this point in subtext on every page. She is fearless, unafraid of backlash, and willing to go ovaries out dissecting and criticizing patriarchal structures within popular culture and their effects on larger society's collective thought process with zero fucks given.
It's not every person's feminism, I don't even agree with many of her points personally, but it's a voice that needs to be heard and respected, if nothing else, for its outright disgust with man-pleasing. So many works within the genre attempt to bridge the gap between the sexes by pulling from familiar female tropes of submission and peace-making. You know the kind, arguments within the sect of "Humanism/Equalism" and acknowledgement of lesser "false rape" statistics in order to remain "fair" avoiding that awful unfeminine and unattractive judgment from society as being Radically Feminist, bra-burning, and ANGRY. Andrea Dworkin is VERY angry, and her supremely intelligent point of view, never, ever apologizes for it. Which, in my opinion, makes her a freaking hero.
This book is a giant FUCK YOU to the patriarchy, and I personally love that, and her, for its attitude. A million stars.
"Radical Feminism" isn't the dirty word the mainstream, and even those within the movement have made it out to be. Personally, I found Dworkin's unabashed nose-thumbing at the patriarchal status quo both admiring and refreshing among so very many more apologetic/inclusive/submissive works easily found within this genre. Andrea Dworkin could give a rat's ass if patriarchal society thinks well of her or validates her as a rational academic. And hot damn, that made me want to applaud her. Feminism is, was and always will be, Women's Advocacy. It is not a movement meant to include the upper members of the existing power structure. Dworkin nails this point in subtext on every page. She is fearless, unafraid of backlash, and willing to go ovaries out dissecting and criticizing patriarchal structures within popular culture and their effects on larger society's collective thought process with zero fucks given.
It's not every person's feminism, I don't even agree with many of her points personally, but it's a voice that needs to be heard and respected, if nothing else, for its outright disgust with man-pleasing. So many works within the genre attempt to bridge the gap between the sexes by pulling from familiar female tropes of submission and peace-making. You know the kind, arguments within the sect of "Humanism/Equalism" and acknowledgement of lesser "false rape" statistics in order to remain "fair" avoiding that awful unfeminine and unattractive judgment from society as being Radically Feminist, bra-burning, and ANGRY. Andrea Dworkin is VERY angry, and her supremely intelligent point of view, never, ever apologizes for it. Which, in my opinion, makes her a freaking hero.
This book is a giant FUCK YOU to the patriarchy, and I personally love that, and her, for its attitude. A million stars.
February 19, 2021
It's impossible to truly love what you consider to be inferior to you.
Andrea Dworkin is one of those brilliant writers and thinkers I wish I discovered sooner. Doing so might have saved me so much time wasted on liberal-choice feminism.
And the main reason for that is "Intercourse" entices the reader (provided they came equipped with a mind open to it) to reconsider and analyze something too often taken for granted through and for its biology; along with the feelings we can't articulate but cling onto on such an intimate level: our sexuality. As Dr. Gail Dines articulates, "without Andrea Dworkin, I and many of us who are anti-porn would still be looking up porn today and thinking 'You know what? I don't like this but I don't know why.' She gave us the template, the understanding."
Contrary to what many critics would lead us to believe, Dworkin did not say "all sex is rape." Rather, the social construction behind heterosexual intercourse (PIV sex or penetration being the end goal and default) is harmful and a reflection of a society that includes an "inferior sex." In other words, intercourse (and the way women experience it versus their male counterparts do) is possibly the best example of sex-based inequality.
This is especially true when liberal "leftist" men are held up to scrutiny to show the underlying misogyny that does not disappear automatically via progressive, class-conscious politics.
I do wish she could have delved more into race. She made an astute point on the struggle being framed so tightly around the anxiety men of color would have in their women being "taken" from them (again, implying in every instance, ownership and objectification).
On the writing, Dworkin uses literature and historical context to provide an absolutely mesmerizing read. Her passion and her absolute refusal to compromise; laced with unrelenting compassion - demonstrated through Joan of Arc - will fill your heart.
Andrea Dworkin is one of those brilliant writers and thinkers I wish I discovered sooner. Doing so might have saved me so much time wasted on liberal-choice feminism.
And the main reason for that is "Intercourse" entices the reader (provided they came equipped with a mind open to it) to reconsider and analyze something too often taken for granted through and for its biology; along with the feelings we can't articulate but cling onto on such an intimate level: our sexuality. As Dr. Gail Dines articulates, "without Andrea Dworkin, I and many of us who are anti-porn would still be looking up porn today and thinking 'You know what? I don't like this but I don't know why.' She gave us the template, the understanding."
Contrary to what many critics would lead us to believe, Dworkin did not say "all sex is rape." Rather, the social construction behind heterosexual intercourse (PIV sex or penetration being the end goal and default) is harmful and a reflection of a society that includes an "inferior sex." In other words, intercourse (and the way women experience it versus their male counterparts do) is possibly the best example of sex-based inequality.
This is especially true when liberal "leftist" men are held up to scrutiny to show the underlying misogyny that does not disappear automatically via progressive, class-conscious politics.
I do wish she could have delved more into race. She made an astute point on the struggle being framed so tightly around the anxiety men of color would have in their women being "taken" from them (again, implying in every instance, ownership and objectification).
On the writing, Dworkin uses literature and historical context to provide an absolutely mesmerizing read. Her passion and her absolute refusal to compromise; laced with unrelenting compassion - demonstrated through Joan of Arc - will fill your heart.
July 19, 2015
Some would have you believe that Dworkin's book was all about the one quote she wrote "all rape is sex." Fully missing out on what exactly she meant or simply ignoring all the reasons she pointed out it every chapter. All sex is rape when you believe the person beneath, above or around you is nothing more then a inferior object to get you to an end goal and to be discard/picked up later at your whim. Refusing to see the person that you are entering as an equal to you. Someone that has needs, that are on a greater plane then your own. Does turn sex into a form of rape.
Sex for women and men will forever be a complicated business. It is especially hard now. When women are not only expected to be the bearers of life. We also then expected to be sexual objects along with it (gossip magazines always picking at an actress weight after she gives birth)with no real sexuality beneath the veneer. Men are expected still as ever to be just the domineering type and pillage whatever is around them.
The words that Andrea has picked reminded me of what we view today. Instead of literary porn, we rely on visual porn. Porn is ever more prevalent today. It has wiggled it's way from the den's and back alley's into the mainstream. It is sold to us as a product and the lives of the women are not intricately viewed as being an actress playing apart. People watching it like to believe the actress thoroughly enjoys her job or why else would she consistently still be doing it; Compartmentalization at will... Elements of porn are now perfectly acceptable on prime time television.
We have now used the works of others as a guidebook for sex and our own sexuality. Completely losing the human factor. we have detached ourselves from people entirely. We tells ourselves to put the onus on the domineering factor of pleasure. To accept the other's submission, to revel it, even if it it debases or humiliates us altogether. Nothing about what is taught to this generation or the next is about harnessing and commanding to be pliable and understanding to the physical and emotional needs of the person they are with. Which is a frightening aspect.
Sex for women and men will forever be a complicated business. It is especially hard now. When women are not only expected to be the bearers of life. We also then expected to be sexual objects along with it (gossip magazines always picking at an actress weight after she gives birth)with no real sexuality beneath the veneer. Men are expected still as ever to be just the domineering type and pillage whatever is around them.
The words that Andrea has picked reminded me of what we view today. Instead of literary porn, we rely on visual porn. Porn is ever more prevalent today. It has wiggled it's way from the den's and back alley's into the mainstream. It is sold to us as a product and the lives of the women are not intricately viewed as being an actress playing apart. People watching it like to believe the actress thoroughly enjoys her job or why else would she consistently still be doing it; Compartmentalization at will... Elements of porn are now perfectly acceptable on prime time television.
We have now used the works of others as a guidebook for sex and our own sexuality. Completely losing the human factor. we have detached ourselves from people entirely. We tells ourselves to put the onus on the domineering factor of pleasure. To accept the other's submission, to revel it, even if it it debases or humiliates us altogether. Nothing about what is taught to this generation or the next is about harnessing and commanding to be pliable and understanding to the physical and emotional needs of the person they are with. Which is a frightening aspect.
January 17, 2011
So, I guess this is the origin of the "all sex is rape" fallacy. Naturally, that's not what she's saying. But apart from the subject matter, which I think I might stay away from, what a strange, rambling book this is! I'm entirely unclear about why it began with five chapters of literary criticism, and whether this was supposed to illustrate the way the world was/is, or the way the world is perceived by men. At least she didn't try to draw sweeping conclusions based on the content of novels. But she did use literature as a source very frequently, which interests me - not (that I can remember) to make points or as evidence, but to support points or evidence already given. I'm pretty ok with this, unconventional as it seemed (to me at least, who is neither widely read nor fishing for compliments).
Her arguments seemed mostly pretty solidly put-together to me, except for the odd statement that seemed to skip a couple of logical steps, or which could at least have benefited from some elaboration. The main problem was her prose. I would say that the passion got in the way of the argument somewhat. Going back afterwards and trying to extract her points proved so exhausting that I gave up after little effort. I would like to hope that this is at least part of the reason for her unpopularity.
Her arguments seemed mostly pretty solidly put-together to me, except for the odd statement that seemed to skip a couple of logical steps, or which could at least have benefited from some elaboration. The main problem was her prose. I would say that the passion got in the way of the argument somewhat. Going back afterwards and trying to extract her points proved so exhausting that I gave up after little effort. I would like to hope that this is at least part of the reason for her unpopularity.
October 24, 2022
Ugh, I'm finally done. Overall, this book was very disappointing. What I thought was going to be "the most shocking book any feminist has yet written" was in fact page after page of highly theoretical literary criticism, disjointedly extrapolated to female experience at large.
"Intercourse" was more incomprehensible than shocking. Yes, the images were graphic and unsettling, to say the least, but they were mostly quotations from male-written literature. In effect, the book read as a collage of disquieting and violent images within the labyrinthine framework of literary discussion. Dworkin writes explicitly and provocatively, but repeats her central claim that sex in our world is innately violative with little justification or even sense. Such claims are defended with random anecdotes about Joan of Arc or Dracula, as if these can be readily analogized to our modern understanding of sex and intimacy.
Andrea Dworkin does raise some intriguing questions. In particular, I was engaged by her theory of what drives both misogyny and homophobia. She discusses the idea, appropriated from Tolstoy's Kreuzter Sonata, that men are supremely angry with women because they possess what it is that they want (sex). Of course, this claim is predicated by the (fallacious) idea that all men want and are driven by sex, but it's interesting to consider the idea that men may be angry and aggressive as a way of sublimating powerlessness; there is something they don't have, undeniable access to the female body, and this inevitable weakness is the driver of dominance and control. Male retaliations against women are rejections of the fundamental powerlessness of not having something you want more than anything else. Heteronormative and overly reductive, of course, but interesting to think about. Also, Dworkin posits that some men hate, are afraid of, gay men because they can't stand the idea of being handled in sexual settings the way men are known to handle women. They do not want to be demeaned the way they are certain women are frequently demeaned by other men.
All in all, Dworkin raises important questions, the central one being: "To what extent does intercourse depend on the inferiority of women?" (218), but I wish she didn't answer them unequivocally. I don't see this text as empowering women. Instead, it inadvertently robs the reader of the right to contemplate her desires for herself, and thus her right to choose what sex should and could like for her.
"Intercourse" was more incomprehensible than shocking. Yes, the images were graphic and unsettling, to say the least, but they were mostly quotations from male-written literature. In effect, the book read as a collage of disquieting and violent images within the labyrinthine framework of literary discussion. Dworkin writes explicitly and provocatively, but repeats her central claim that sex in our world is innately violative with little justification or even sense. Such claims are defended with random anecdotes about Joan of Arc or Dracula, as if these can be readily analogized to our modern understanding of sex and intimacy.
Andrea Dworkin does raise some intriguing questions. In particular, I was engaged by her theory of what drives both misogyny and homophobia. She discusses the idea, appropriated from Tolstoy's Kreuzter Sonata, that men are supremely angry with women because they possess what it is that they want (sex). Of course, this claim is predicated by the (fallacious) idea that all men want and are driven by sex, but it's interesting to consider the idea that men may be angry and aggressive as a way of sublimating powerlessness; there is something they don't have, undeniable access to the female body, and this inevitable weakness is the driver of dominance and control. Male retaliations against women are rejections of the fundamental powerlessness of not having something you want more than anything else. Heteronormative and overly reductive, of course, but interesting to think about. Also, Dworkin posits that some men hate, are afraid of, gay men because they can't stand the idea of being handled in sexual settings the way men are known to handle women. They do not want to be demeaned the way they are certain women are frequently demeaned by other men.
All in all, Dworkin raises important questions, the central one being: "To what extent does intercourse depend on the inferiority of women?" (218), but I wish she didn't answer them unequivocally. I don't see this text as empowering women. Instead, it inadvertently robs the reader of the right to contemplate her desires for herself, and thus her right to choose what sex should and could like for her.
August 5, 2019
Throughout my teenage and adult life, I have loved two books above all others: "The God of Small Things," by Arundhati Roy (1997), and "The English Patient," by Michael Ondaatje (1992).
I never thought I would read something so good that it toppled my two favorite books from first place.
But Andrea Dworkin's stunning nonfiction book, "Intercourse," published in 1987, is even better than my most-beloved books of all time.
It's no wonder that people slandered this book when it was published, and continue to slander it, claiming that Dworkin wrote, "all sex is rape," and painting her as a "man-hating feminist." Dworkin is extremely sex-positive and life-affirming. Which is exactly why people had to summon a pitchfork mob against this book, and keep their weapons raised against it.
Dworkin's prose is clear, powerful, unrelenting, insightful, wise, passionate, and resonant with moral justice. I have never read such potent, profound truths in my life. I have never read a book that examines and illuminates the bedrock of power the way that this book does. Dworkin is analyzing the foundation of all hierarchy in this text, and it is absolutely stunning.
I loved it. Loved every sentence, every page, every moment.
"Intercourse" is the book I have been waiting my whole life to read. And I didn't even know it, until I opened it, and began.
I never thought I would read something so good that it toppled my two favorite books from first place.
But Andrea Dworkin's stunning nonfiction book, "Intercourse," published in 1987, is even better than my most-beloved books of all time.
It's no wonder that people slandered this book when it was published, and continue to slander it, claiming that Dworkin wrote, "all sex is rape," and painting her as a "man-hating feminist." Dworkin is extremely sex-positive and life-affirming. Which is exactly why people had to summon a pitchfork mob against this book, and keep their weapons raised against it.
Dworkin's prose is clear, powerful, unrelenting, insightful, wise, passionate, and resonant with moral justice. I have never read such potent, profound truths in my life. I have never read a book that examines and illuminates the bedrock of power the way that this book does. Dworkin is analyzing the foundation of all hierarchy in this text, and it is absolutely stunning.
I loved it. Loved every sentence, every page, every moment.
"Intercourse" is the book I have been waiting my whole life to read. And I didn't even know it, until I opened it, and began.
January 4, 2021
me quedo con:
"but intercourse and women's inequality are like Siamese twins, always in the same place at the same time pissing in the same pot."
"but intercourse and women's inequality are like Siamese twins, always in the same place at the same time pissing in the same pot."
July 21, 2022
3.5
The act of intercourse is fundamentally imbalanced by misogynistic disdain & disgust directed toward the woman and the female body, which in the act becomes an object and a site of violence. That is pretty much the main idea she is driving home throughout the book. She never goes so far as to say male penis-female vagina sex is rape under patriarchy but she rly wants to lool. I enjoyed this as it really is a no-bullshit examination of patriarchy, in the era of the sex-positive girlboss it’s nice to read things that are actually grounded in reality.
I felt as if the book misses the mark on race, in the fleeting moments it even bothers to address any of it. Much of this is a close reading of Victorian & colonial era Western texts, as well as dissection of European Catholic doctrine, which as we know are extremely white. (Not that there is nothing to be gained from examining these texts at all, it was just very boring!! To me these bits were almost low-hanging fruit, a very obvious critique of the sexism of a bunch of people you’d expect to be sexist anyway. Like yes, Augustine of Hippo was homophobic & Freud was sexist and the Nazis were rapists. We know!) She tries to at least break it up by including dissection of books by James Baldwin and discussion of racism & anti-Semitism but it is so clearly an afterthought that it’s like girl you could’ve made this shorter by just forgoing it. I think all of 3 pages is given to exploring the unique way racial & sexual marginalization impact women of color, I’m pretty sure she spends more time talking about white women being assaulted by Black men than ever talking about Black women lolol. The Joan of Arc bit was great but I don’t even buy it as completely historical. It would be interesting if a radfem of color could do some deep reading on indigenous ideas of women and their role/agency in society and the sex act. As it stands I just sort of felt like this was lacking a lot of something.
I understand this is a critique of patriarchy but unfortunately the book suffers from a complete lack of female agency which is ironic. What are women’s thoughts and feelings toward the sex act, their genitalia, objectification, etc? I understand that many women have a Stockholm syndrome love-hate relationship with patriarchy but it makes the reading rather bleak and incomplete to just act like women just collectively give in to this idea that they are vile objects to be fucked and discarded. Like, ok, men really hate women and hate pussy and women just internalize it and have sex with them & accept being their property. Is that really all? I can’t answer that question & neither can she. We’re all a product of a sexist society yea but idk, to make no real mention at all of a woman’s sexual desire in a book about male-female intercourse is sort of insane to me? Am I overthinking it??
Good read overall, sort of prose laden though and she really did not need to make this as long as it was. No way around it, this was mad long for no reason. But again, I enjoyed it. I miss when radical feminists actually got to the material root of the problem. I also really enjoyed her spelling Amerika how she does lmfao I’m going to get into that.
The act of intercourse is fundamentally imbalanced by misogynistic disdain & disgust directed toward the woman and the female body, which in the act becomes an object and a site of violence. That is pretty much the main idea she is driving home throughout the book. She never goes so far as to say male penis-female vagina sex is rape under patriarchy but she rly wants to lool. I enjoyed this as it really is a no-bullshit examination of patriarchy, in the era of the sex-positive girlboss it’s nice to read things that are actually grounded in reality.
I felt as if the book misses the mark on race, in the fleeting moments it even bothers to address any of it. Much of this is a close reading of Victorian & colonial era Western texts, as well as dissection of European Catholic doctrine, which as we know are extremely white. (Not that there is nothing to be gained from examining these texts at all, it was just very boring!! To me these bits were almost low-hanging fruit, a very obvious critique of the sexism of a bunch of people you’d expect to be sexist anyway. Like yes, Augustine of Hippo was homophobic & Freud was sexist and the Nazis were rapists. We know!) She tries to at least break it up by including dissection of books by James Baldwin and discussion of racism & anti-Semitism but it is so clearly an afterthought that it’s like girl you could’ve made this shorter by just forgoing it. I think all of 3 pages is given to exploring the unique way racial & sexual marginalization impact women of color, I’m pretty sure she spends more time talking about white women being assaulted by Black men than ever talking about Black women lolol. The Joan of Arc bit was great but I don’t even buy it as completely historical. It would be interesting if a radfem of color could do some deep reading on indigenous ideas of women and their role/agency in society and the sex act. As it stands I just sort of felt like this was lacking a lot of something.
I understand this is a critique of patriarchy but unfortunately the book suffers from a complete lack of female agency which is ironic. What are women’s thoughts and feelings toward the sex act, their genitalia, objectification, etc? I understand that many women have a Stockholm syndrome love-hate relationship with patriarchy but it makes the reading rather bleak and incomplete to just act like women just collectively give in to this idea that they are vile objects to be fucked and discarded. Like, ok, men really hate women and hate pussy and women just internalize it and have sex with them & accept being their property. Is that really all? I can’t answer that question & neither can she. We’re all a product of a sexist society yea but idk, to make no real mention at all of a woman’s sexual desire in a book about male-female intercourse is sort of insane to me? Am I overthinking it??
Good read overall, sort of prose laden though and she really did not need to make this as long as it was. No way around it, this was mad long for no reason. But again, I enjoyed it. I miss when radical feminists actually got to the material root of the problem. I also really enjoyed her spelling Amerika how she does lmfao I’m going to get into that.
July 28, 2016
I wish I could give this book 3.5 stars but that doesn't seem feasible.
So first off, I think Intercourse is worth reading. I think it's a solid book in a number of ways, and in terms of actual criticisms of theory the main one I have is that it handles intersections of race and feminism a bit oddly. I was put off by the attempt to argue that the oppression of women is somehow more foundational than racial oppression. There were a few moments that seemed like a fanciful way of saying "look I know racism is bad too but sexism is worse". Maybe that's unfair, but it's how a few places in the book came across.
Honestly, my biggest criticism of the book is that I think her prose is overwrought. There were entire paragraphs I skipped over by checking back in to see if she was still making the same point using the same example just with synonyms. I think it could have been maybe a total of fifty pages shorter without sacrificing any content. There was less meat in the text than I'd been hoping, but what was there was pretty good.
And, no, she doesn't say all sex is rape. For goodness sake.
So first off, I think Intercourse is worth reading. I think it's a solid book in a number of ways, and in terms of actual criticisms of theory the main one I have is that it handles intersections of race and feminism a bit oddly. I was put off by the attempt to argue that the oppression of women is somehow more foundational than racial oppression. There were a few moments that seemed like a fanciful way of saying "look I know racism is bad too but sexism is worse". Maybe that's unfair, but it's how a few places in the book came across.
Honestly, my biggest criticism of the book is that I think her prose is overwrought. There were entire paragraphs I skipped over by checking back in to see if she was still making the same point using the same example just with synonyms. I think it could have been maybe a total of fifty pages shorter without sacrificing any content. There was less meat in the text than I'd been hoping, but what was there was pretty good.
And, no, she doesn't say all sex is rape. For goodness sake.
November 2, 2017
"Intercourse" is a feminist classic and is Andrea Dworkin's most notorious book. The book came to save me in the time I needed it the most.
Unlike Millett's "Sexual Politics", "Intercourse" is a bitter realisation that we women would never possess an equal status with men in regard to our sexual activities. Dworkin argued why female inferiority in terms of sex inheres in the nature of coitus itself, which makes every relationship we have with men unequal to begin with. From what I concluded, it calls for a complete restructurisation of society in order for women to finally enjoy sex. But, should women's status become elevated, can men enjoy having sex with their equals? Isn't the pleasure derived from their power and the inferior, subhuman status of women?
To further her arguments, Dworkin supplied various fiction sources in "Intercourse." I would have given this book the perfect rating had only I known the authors she had mentioned in the book. Sadly, I hadn't. But it doesn't diminish the fact that "Intercourse" is a thought-provoking, groundbreaking, and an important work for feminism's body of thought.
Unlike Millett's "Sexual Politics", "Intercourse" is a bitter realisation that we women would never possess an equal status with men in regard to our sexual activities. Dworkin argued why female inferiority in terms of sex inheres in the nature of coitus itself, which makes every relationship we have with men unequal to begin with. From what I concluded, it calls for a complete restructurisation of society in order for women to finally enjoy sex. But, should women's status become elevated, can men enjoy having sex with their equals? Isn't the pleasure derived from their power and the inferior, subhuman status of women?
To further her arguments, Dworkin supplied various fiction sources in "Intercourse." I would have given this book the perfect rating had only I known the authors she had mentioned in the book. Sadly, I hadn't. But it doesn't diminish the fact that "Intercourse" is a thought-provoking, groundbreaking, and an important work for feminism's body of thought.
June 27, 2016
This should be required reading in every course on sex education, especially as most such courses explicate the importance of safe sex, but never seem to touch on the mental attitudes that make up most of the sexual experience, leaving the student as easy prey for the implantation of third party ideas that are not much concerned with ethics (ie., internet pornography and almost any movie with traditional heterosexual gender roles).
In short, the author took all the vague ideas that were troubling me on the intersection between the actual practice of sex and the ideals of feminism and completely concretized and explicated them with mercilessly brilliant prose. Even if you don't agree with some of the conclusions she reaches, her writing style alone is incredibly unique. While at times, the author's passion carries the argument past what can be supported by the given text, Dworkin's writing identifies her as definitely one of her generation's greatest intellects.
In short, the author took all the vague ideas that were troubling me on the intersection between the actual practice of sex and the ideals of feminism and completely concretized and explicated them with mercilessly brilliant prose. Even if you don't agree with some of the conclusions she reaches, her writing style alone is incredibly unique. While at times, the author's passion carries the argument past what can be supported by the given text, Dworkin's writing identifies her as definitely one of her generation's greatest intellects.
Read
March 3, 2014I finally found a copy of this tonight. Unfortunately it smells really, really odd. I think it might be ...(sniffing it)..mothballs and cigarettes. Gross. I'm pretty interested in skimming through this, I've read a few excerpts and it's markedly extremist so I don't think I can viably get involved in it, but it's the versing in the extremes that makes me feel more grounded in my own version of middle-ground. Even with her eccentricism, Dworkin seems to have led a moving, impassioned and enlightened life that I'd like to know more about, but more so, be led to other femme commentators that use their passion in a less hostile/victimized manner of discourse.
April 17, 2016
This book was on top of my to-read list since finishing John Stoltenberg's essays Refusing to be a Man, which deeply challenged my views on gender dynamics of domination, especially as expressed through sexuality. I thought Intercourse would enable me to deepen these reflexions. I was utterly disappointed: I did not find the social science reasoning I was expecting, but instead a collection of drabbles on various pieces of literature written by men, without any convincing analysis. Male authors tend to offer paternalistic and condescending depictions of women ; but this I already knew by reading directly Tolstoy or Flaubert. Dworkin's paraphrase of their novels didn't add anything in this respect, and I often cringed at the naïveté of the commentary (esp. concerning Joan of Arc). I don't understand how having for only material literary and artistic representations can be of any help for studying social phenomenons (except when the social fact being analyzed is the representation in itself, such as in Saïd's work on orientalism). Here, it even leads Andrea Dworkin to endorse the heteropatriarchic view of sexual relationships conveyed by most writers without questioning or criticizing it: penis-in-vagina sex involving a man and a woman, during which the man conquers and the woman surrenders. Reductive to say the least.
April 3, 2023
“Current dogma is to teach by rote that sex is “healthy” as if it existed outside social relations, as if it had no ties to anything mean or lowdown, to history, to power, to the dispossession of women from freedom. But for sex not to mean dirt—for sex not to be dirty—the status of women would have to change radically; there would have to be equality without equivocation or qualification, social equality for all women, not personal exemptions from insult for some women in some circumstances. The next question—a real one and a fascinating one—then is: with women not dirty, with sex not dirty, could men fuck? To what extent does intercourse depend on the inferiority of women?"
With this question, Andrea Dworkin managed to piss off pretty much everyone. Her writing, activism, and overall legacy are scorned on the right and left, by chauvinist pigs and radical feminists alike. To both camps, Dworkin rightfully replies, “Intercourse is still being reviled in print by people who have not read it, reduced to slogans by journalists posing as critics or sages or deep thinkers, treated as if it were odious and hateful by every asshole who thinks that what will heal this violent world is more respect for dead white men.” To read Intercourse in its entirety, to take its core questions seriously, is to wholeheartedly refute the controversy surrounding it and to recognize the critical vitriol for what it is – a reactionary impulse against Dworkin’s radical vision of sexual equality and liberation.
Her argument is a simple but threatening one. Sex as we know it contributes to and relies upon the patriarchal power structure. In a world of gendered oppression, there is no such thing as a liberated fuck. Therefore, (and here’s the bite) those of us who desire to fuck and be fucked are complicit in the maintenance of the gender hierarchy. Through her cutting literary, historical, psychoanalytic, religious, and cultural analysis, Dworkin reveals that at some level, no matter how hard we try to deny it, we already know this.
One powerful critique of Dworkin that actually comes from an engagement with her work is that she may ascribe too much power to the act of intercourse. Perhaps claiming that, “the experience of fucking changes people, so that they are often lost to each other and slowly they are lost to human hope,” is taking things a bit too far. Maybe giving sex the power to shape metaphysical reality is an overstep. Yet, Dworkin convincingly argues for intercourse as a Hegelian dialectic, the original mechanism for subject creation in the face of the Other, or the outside world. She states, “The women are the escape route from mental self-absorption into reality: they are the world, connection, contact, touch, feeling, what is real, the physical, what is true outside the frenetic self-involvement of the men, the convulsions of their passionate self-regard.” In the gendered hierarchy, sex creates personhood and objecthood, the self and the world. And for those who are defined in relation to their bodily utility, the consequences are unavoidably real.
“Having an interior life of wanting, needing, gives fucking human meaning in a human context. “All my life,” Williams wrote, “I have been haunted by the obsession that to desire a thing or to love a thing intensely is to place yourself in a vulnerable position, to be a possible, if not a probable, loser of what you most want.” Without that inner fragility and fear, fucking is likely to become, as Williams wrote in a later play, “quick, and hard, and brutal. . . like the jabbing of a hypodermic needle. . . ” Being stigmatized by sex is being marked by its meaning in a human life of loneliness and imperfection, where some pain is indelible.”
To Dworkin, fucking is not hopeless. Cradled within its power to destroy is our inherent fragility, vulnerability, dependency. Her critics are quick to call her a hypocrite, married to a man yet calling for the abolition of sex qua sex? Yet, she speaks beyond the interpersonal, criticizing and unveiling a systemic ill. The fuck is an act of possession, translated from the individual act to a communally defined and maintained structure of power. Her question is directed at the political meaning of intercourse, which she poses thus: “can an occupied people—physically occupied inside, internally invaded—be free; can those with a metaphysically compromised privacy have self-determination; can those without a biologically based physical integrity have self-respect?” She calls not for any direct action, but at the very least an interrogation – an unflinching analysis of fucking and its relationship to gender hierarchies. And this very questioning has led to her ostracization, indicative of the destabilizing power of the question itself.
In so far as Dworkin gives us an answer to these questions, it is a revolutionary one, and it comes in the form of new questions for a new order. She posits that if intercourse can ever be an expression of sexual equality, it will have to survive the sexual revolution on “its own merits,” in a world where male power over women has been destroyed, where sex can be chosen by “full human beings with full human freedom.” In this way, Dworkin’s critics can be lumped together with the critics of all radical political thought – those who are afraid of the unknown, afraid of the futures we would choose if we were truly free, afraid of the unformed nature of liberatory subjecthood, of who we would be without oppression, of what we would want.
I’ll close with one of my favorite lines from this masterpiece. Rest in power, Andrea.
"Maybe life is tragic and the God who does not exist made women inferior so that men could fuck us; or maybe we can only know this much for certain—that when intercourse exists and is experienced under conditions of force, fear, or inequality, it destroys in women the will to political freedom; it destroys the love of freedom itself. We become female: occupied; collaborators against each other, especially against those among us who resist male domination—the lone, crazy resisters, the organized resistance. The pleasure of submission does not and cannot change the fact, the cost, the indignity, of inferiority."
With this question, Andrea Dworkin managed to piss off pretty much everyone. Her writing, activism, and overall legacy are scorned on the right and left, by chauvinist pigs and radical feminists alike. To both camps, Dworkin rightfully replies, “Intercourse is still being reviled in print by people who have not read it, reduced to slogans by journalists posing as critics or sages or deep thinkers, treated as if it were odious and hateful by every asshole who thinks that what will heal this violent world is more respect for dead white men.” To read Intercourse in its entirety, to take its core questions seriously, is to wholeheartedly refute the controversy surrounding it and to recognize the critical vitriol for what it is – a reactionary impulse against Dworkin’s radical vision of sexual equality and liberation.
Her argument is a simple but threatening one. Sex as we know it contributes to and relies upon the patriarchal power structure. In a world of gendered oppression, there is no such thing as a liberated fuck. Therefore, (and here’s the bite) those of us who desire to fuck and be fucked are complicit in the maintenance of the gender hierarchy. Through her cutting literary, historical, psychoanalytic, religious, and cultural analysis, Dworkin reveals that at some level, no matter how hard we try to deny it, we already know this.
One powerful critique of Dworkin that actually comes from an engagement with her work is that she may ascribe too much power to the act of intercourse. Perhaps claiming that, “the experience of fucking changes people, so that they are often lost to each other and slowly they are lost to human hope,” is taking things a bit too far. Maybe giving sex the power to shape metaphysical reality is an overstep. Yet, Dworkin convincingly argues for intercourse as a Hegelian dialectic, the original mechanism for subject creation in the face of the Other, or the outside world. She states, “The women are the escape route from mental self-absorption into reality: they are the world, connection, contact, touch, feeling, what is real, the physical, what is true outside the frenetic self-involvement of the men, the convulsions of their passionate self-regard.” In the gendered hierarchy, sex creates personhood and objecthood, the self and the world. And for those who are defined in relation to their bodily utility, the consequences are unavoidably real.
“Having an interior life of wanting, needing, gives fucking human meaning in a human context. “All my life,” Williams wrote, “I have been haunted by the obsession that to desire a thing or to love a thing intensely is to place yourself in a vulnerable position, to be a possible, if not a probable, loser of what you most want.” Without that inner fragility and fear, fucking is likely to become, as Williams wrote in a later play, “quick, and hard, and brutal. . . like the jabbing of a hypodermic needle. . . ” Being stigmatized by sex is being marked by its meaning in a human life of loneliness and imperfection, where some pain is indelible.”
To Dworkin, fucking is not hopeless. Cradled within its power to destroy is our inherent fragility, vulnerability, dependency. Her critics are quick to call her a hypocrite, married to a man yet calling for the abolition of sex qua sex? Yet, she speaks beyond the interpersonal, criticizing and unveiling a systemic ill. The fuck is an act of possession, translated from the individual act to a communally defined and maintained structure of power. Her question is directed at the political meaning of intercourse, which she poses thus: “can an occupied people—physically occupied inside, internally invaded—be free; can those with a metaphysically compromised privacy have self-determination; can those without a biologically based physical integrity have self-respect?” She calls not for any direct action, but at the very least an interrogation – an unflinching analysis of fucking and its relationship to gender hierarchies. And this very questioning has led to her ostracization, indicative of the destabilizing power of the question itself.
In so far as Dworkin gives us an answer to these questions, it is a revolutionary one, and it comes in the form of new questions for a new order. She posits that if intercourse can ever be an expression of sexual equality, it will have to survive the sexual revolution on “its own merits,” in a world where male power over women has been destroyed, where sex can be chosen by “full human beings with full human freedom.” In this way, Dworkin’s critics can be lumped together with the critics of all radical political thought – those who are afraid of the unknown, afraid of the futures we would choose if we were truly free, afraid of the unformed nature of liberatory subjecthood, of who we would be without oppression, of what we would want.
I’ll close with one of my favorite lines from this masterpiece. Rest in power, Andrea.
"Maybe life is tragic and the God who does not exist made women inferior so that men could fuck us; or maybe we can only know this much for certain—that when intercourse exists and is experienced under conditions of force, fear, or inequality, it destroys in women the will to political freedom; it destroys the love of freedom itself. We become female: occupied; collaborators against each other, especially against those among us who resist male domination—the lone, crazy resisters, the organized resistance. The pleasure of submission does not and cannot change the fact, the cost, the indignity, of inferiority."
February 20, 2023
I’m glad they reprinted this book and the forewords do a great job of laying out just how much Dworkin and her work have been misinterpreted. While this isn’t my favourite book by her, it’s less punchy and intense, it’s still a worthwhile read. While not all sex is rape so much sex is about replicating and reinforcing power dynamics between the genders and this needs to be examined if we, as women, are to be truly freed from male domination.
March 18, 2024
dworkin is #GOATED 🙅♀️this book changed my life and will continue to alter the path of my existence FOREVERMORE. the only reason i’m not giving it 5/5 is bc of my own stupidity bc sometimes i got lost in her prose and forgot what point she was trying to make. but dworkin is a pioneer and a GENIUS and she literally redefined what it means to be ‘sexually liberated’. love this woman love this book💘💖🎀🩷
December 13, 2023
”Intercourse as an act often expresses the power men have over women. Without being what the society recognises as rape, it is what the society - when pushed to admit it - recognises as dominance.”
Woman Hating, Andrea Dworkin’s first published work, and Last Days at Hot Slit, a posthumous selection of excerpts from her writings, were genuinely life-changing for me. Dworkin’s incisive conceptualisation of feminism as class consciousness, with women as the subjugated class, spoke to me on a level that modern liberal feminism does not, and indeed cannot.
Intercourse, perhaps her best known work, remains intelligent and relevant, but for the most part lacked that revelatory quality for me. Drawing from real and fictional sources is usually her great strength; unfortunately, I found these references difficult to parse if I was not already familiar with the original text or historical/contemporary figure.
As always, though, Dworkin’s writing is powerful and unrelenting, and she still uses her sources as a springboard for cultural analysis to great effect. She never shies away from filth or violence, no matter how shocking, although you might find yourself shying away from the pages.
Woman Hating, Andrea Dworkin’s first published work, and Last Days at Hot Slit, a posthumous selection of excerpts from her writings, were genuinely life-changing for me. Dworkin’s incisive conceptualisation of feminism as class consciousness, with women as the subjugated class, spoke to me on a level that modern liberal feminism does not, and indeed cannot.
Intercourse, perhaps her best known work, remains intelligent and relevant, but for the most part lacked that revelatory quality for me. Drawing from real and fictional sources is usually her great strength; unfortunately, I found these references difficult to parse if I was not already familiar with the original text or historical/contemporary figure.
As always, though, Dworkin’s writing is powerful and unrelenting, and she still uses her sources as a springboard for cultural analysis to great effect. She never shies away from filth or violence, no matter how shocking, although you might find yourself shying away from the pages.
December 12, 2007
I've been trying to read/reread this book since 1989. It took me seventeen years to really get through it and appreciate it---although, I've always wanted to appreciate it. It took me that long to understand it---or at least to feel confident enough to say I understood it. I think it's a great lesson for men to submit (!) to an argument like this, which, despite Dworkin's detractors, ISN'T easy to summarize. Just to be clear: Dworkin isn't saying that any heterosexual sex is de facto rape. That's what the haters would have you believe. Instead, she makes us think about sex as power---the way that power is not only physiologically but culturally conferred, and how ingrained in the dynamic of emotions that power imbalance becomes. Men, bone up (so to speak) and listen in---you will learn a lot. Even if it takes you seventeen years to understand it.
June 14, 2008
"...fucking, in which both the man & the woman experience maleness, essentially demands the disappearance of the woman as an individual; thus, in being fucked, she is possessed: ceases to exist as a discrete individual: is taken over.
The man is not possessed in fucking even though he is terrified of castration...even though he is terrified of never getting his cock back because she has engulfed it inside her, and it is small compared with the vagina around it...he is not possessed even though he rolls over dead and useless afterward, shrunk into oblivion.."
"..the mucous membrane that the man touches in intercourse with his penis, the vagina, is dirtly like the rectum. The penis evokes the turd in the rectum because the man has the experience of touching a membrane just like the rectal wall."
hmmmmm.......
The man is not possessed in fucking even though he is terrified of castration...even though he is terrified of never getting his cock back because she has engulfed it inside her, and it is small compared with the vagina around it...he is not possessed even though he rolls over dead and useless afterward, shrunk into oblivion.."
"..the mucous membrane that the man touches in intercourse with his penis, the vagina, is dirtly like the rectum. The penis evokes the turd in the rectum because the man has the experience of touching a membrane just like the rectal wall."
hmmmmm.......
May 6, 2012
This was probably one of the most challenging and inspiring books I have read in awhile, and while I did not necessarily agree with everything in it, every argument did give me something to think about and wrestle with. The writing is also incredible; Dworkin's writing cuts to the bone of every issue and is savagely beautiful. I would recommend it to anyone who really wants to think deeply about patriarchy and violence against women (with the proviso that she uses pretty rough language)
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