For the Love of Books
Published June 08, 2005
My all time favorite books by Emma Goldrick were The Road, Rent-a-Bride and Bringing up the Babies.
By the time I came to the ninth grade books by Jackie Collins, Danielle Steel, etc., were being casually passed around, and while we got to know what phrases like "giving head," "blow job," etc., meant, yet we remained an innocent bunch, as words like "nymphomaniac," "necrophilia," etc., had even the most jaded amongst us raise their eyebrows.
And though we had lesbians amongst us who hugged too close, toyed with each other's buttons, or wrote letters in blood, we remained oblivious to their orientation, thinking they were just too bonded to their friends, till we came to high school and understood what gay relationships were all about.
Many straight girls in their ignorance considered homosexuality to be abnormal, and swallowed what the nuns and priests had to say about it hook, line, and sinker, yet some of us were saved yet again by books.
Jackie Collins had written about girl-on-girl and sweaty mixed orgies with an accepted briskness, and details were provided about anal sex, blow jobs, and the difference between fucking and making love.
Despite being utter trash, Collins' books helped me maintain an open mind with regards to homosexuality, and once I discovered that Oscar Wilde was a homosexual and Lord Byron a bi-sexual, it was then that my arguments in my literature class strengthened against the teachers and nuns who propagated homophobia.
I was soon to swim against the tide again, and gain the title of a renegade as I began to educate my friends on Gay Culture and their contributions to society, and incurred censorship from the school administration, who even threatened to call my parents.
This time round there was no fear in my heart. I puffed my chest and told the principal that to censure books was a distinct feature of fascism, and if they tried to stop alternative viewpoints, then the school was a fascist organization.
These words had the desired effect, and while I remained a rogue reader in their eyes, yet they dealt with me grudging respect.
Books are like genies that can make frogs from a well become the owners of the oceans within the confines of the heart, if you'll pardon the mixed metaphors.
Books egged on my thirst for knowledge that was deliberately held back, they gave me the courage to stand by my beliefs, and helped me evolve into a person who believes that libraries and books are treasure troves that can counter the spread of religious or political intolerance.
- For the Love of Books
- Published: June 08, 2005
- Type: Opinion
- Section: Books
- Filed Under: Books: Literature and Fiction, Books: Romance
- Writer: Deepti Lamba
- Deepti Lamba's BC Writer page
- Deepti Lamba's personal site
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Comments on this articleComments
Don't diss me, man!
diss, dis (-ss-)
verb {T} US SLANG
to speak or behave rudely to someone or to show them no respect:
Perhaps she was distressed, and after her scolding, I was dissed:)
Must read the Shute - haven't
What worlds our books weave!
After all these years, I finally get the inside skinny on coming of age in an all girls school. Thanks swingingpuss! Fun reading. :-]
Aaaah, a girls's first love.
I skimmed right over that and read dissed as pissed.
Why did the Nuns instruct about condoms. That's a Catholic no-no or ..... ?
Well read. Well told. Well Well.
Not only did the nuns talk about condoms but also other forms of contraceptives and before we passed out of school they had an OB-GYN come and talk to us and that lady was a hardcore feminist.
I later taught in another Catholic School for about two years and was told by the nuns there that my school nuns were rather 'forward and controversial in their thinking'.
And by the way Temple not every girl's first love are books:)
I was just riffing on the "fun" nun stereotypes and wondering.
>And by the way Temple not every girl's first love are books:)
Father ........... forgive me for i have sinned.
Lol, if you are gonna open the pandora's box... we had a Catholic Boys school next door and were used to seeing priests coming out of the nuns quaters early morning...obviously it was perfectly innocent, confessions followed by breakfast but then again we knew who the favorite priests were as some of them graced our assemblies too often and had beaming nuns looking up to them.
Pandora's box is very nice. Warm. Overflowing. Effusive. Easy to open really, I'm not sure of all the fuss.
...
Can there be a more hormone-charge area than a Catholic boys and girls school next door?
Give me nuclear radiation fallout any day instead. OK .. maybe not.
Nice piece, Puss.
(May I call you "Puss"?)
It's very interesting to see behind the Iron Curtain of Adolescent Gender Histories.
I can't remember my first 'dirty' book, (we liked to look at the lingerie ads in the Sears catalog, this was ca. early 1960s!) -- but I do remember the first stirrings in my loins:
Miss Powers, *third grade teacher, South Hills elementary.
(*Wow, is that too early?)
BTW: Some psychologist might find it significant that I can't remember what I had for breakfast this morning, but I can remember my third grade teacher's name and the precise shape of her butt as she wrote on the blackboard.
Oy.
Sure Shark, puss sounds just fine.
It is funny how hormones helps us remember certain memories down to the smallest details... I remember a whole bunch of first times...first crush when I was five, my first kiss and I even remember the date when 'it' finally happened ;)
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she screamed my name in a loud, truly dissed voice...
Did you mean distressed? Or that she felt "dismissed" or "disdained" by your choice of reading?
Not having had the advantage of attending an all-girls school [grin], I can tell you that my singular "forbidden" read was Nevil Schute's Trustee from the Toolroom. Once I read that, and could see no reason for it to be on the prohibited books list, I never looked back.