Your Crap Archivist brings you the finest in forgotten and bewildering crap culled from basements, thrift stores, estate sales and flea markets. I do this for one reason: Knowledge is power.
Sex Without Fear
Author: S.A. Lewin and John Gilmore
Publisher: Medical Research Press
Discovered at: Used bookstore clearance shelf
The Cover Promises: The natural act upon which the propagation of the species depends is utterly terrifying.
Representative Quotes: Page 51: “The rear-entry position is also practiced for a variety of reasons.” Page 93: “Physicians generally are agreed that conception control should be in the hands of the woman … The diaphragm is one of the chief methods of woman-control.”
A warning to any sensitive Crap Enthusiasts shaken by treatment of the whys and wherefores of getting’ down. Lewin and Gilmore’s Sex Without Fear finds us plunging right into the breach: “Feminine daintiness is one of woman’s greatest attractions,” they write. “If there is an unpleasant odor from the vagina, consult a doctor, who will advise on douching.”
While its gender politics make Martin Lawrence’s seem modern, Sex Without Fear is in one key respect more progressive than most 40-year-old guides to That Which Can Only Be Depicted Through Creepy Sketches. Its authors admit to liking sex. In their clinical, mostly secular way, they’re missionary about the missionary position.
“Satisfactory intercourse is the basis for happy marriage,” they insist. Then, forgetting that whole Without Fear promise, they warn, “The important thing to remember is that there must be a satisfying climax each time.”
To help couples achieve marital bliss, Lewin and Gilmore explain lubricants (“Actually, the use of saliva can be harmful!”), lady parts (“The clitoris differs from the penis not only in size, but also because it does not contain any opening”), sexual positions (“the body can comfortably assume only a limited number of positions”) and how to get through the honeymoon:
Most men come to marriage with some degree of sexual experience. Even where such experience has been slight, they do not have the apprehension of the unknown. The bride looks to her husband for assurance and confidence.
Also, they suggest that Red Bull has serious effects on the bride’s plumbing:
Diaphragms, the authors tell us, are key for “woman-control.” Once she’s manageable, the responsibility for satisfaction is — like bill paying or taking advantage of our society’s double standard regarding promiscuity — in every way a man’s job:
Physical differences place the greater burden for a successful marriage on the husband… Because erection comes easily and ejaculation very quickly, a man can achieve a measure of satisfaction even with an indifferent or unaroused wife. But because a woman reacts slowly, she is dependent on the man for sexual satisfaction.
They fill many pages exploring the causes of frigidity, but Lewin and Gilmore’s conclusions on the matter would fit on a business card.
Throughout the book, illustrations like this undercut the premise that sex is not scary. In fact, they make your parts seem downright terrifying.
Inside each man lurk pure H.P. Lovecraft nightmares.
The adrenal gland wears your “seat of psychological frigidity” like a coonskin cap.
And check out your thyroid!
I kid, I kid. Despite these horrific illustrations, Sex Without Fear presents marital love as a natural, wholesome and safe experience.
It also presents your babies as tapeworms.
Shocking Detail: As we near the end of the age of cheap plastics, Lewin and Gilmore offer timely ideas about reducing your condom footprint.
After use, the condom can be tested again, this time by filling with water. If there are no leaks, wash it with warm water and soap, turn inside out and repeat. Dry thoroughly on both sides. Put it aside for a few hours, then dust thoroughly with talcum powder on both sides and roll up ready for use. A good quality condom, properly taken care of, will last for a month.
Your Crap Archivist appreciates this advice. For years, he’s felt alienated from his condoms. Now, as he scrubs them out, just like grandma used to, a sense of tradition glows inside him. Raising your own chickens, growing your own herbs, un-gooing your own rubbers – this is what America used to be.
Highlight: Nothing creepier than a naked ginger man.