WOMEN’S BODIES: THE LANGUAGE OF SEX

Anyone writing about sex is confronted by the problem of what words to use. In spite of the wonderful diversity of English, I find it frustratingly difficult to find satisfactory terms for many of the organs, processes, sensations and emotions associated with sex.

Sex is a loaded subject in our culture, and this is reflected in our language. There’s no shortage of words to describe sex organs and actions, but the majority of terms are evasive, ambiguous, sexist, derogatory, guilt-ridden, or (especially in vulgar slang) violent, punitive or deliberately offensive. When it comes to the sensations and emotions of sex, our language is barren.

As a medical writer, I feel at ease using anatomical terms like ‘vulva’ and ‘penis’ and I shall do this throughout. I feel OK about ‘womb’ as an alternative for ‘uterus’ but most other commonly used terms are so ambiguous or offensive that I can’t bring myself to use them. (One must be so careful with the vernacular: words mean different things to different people. ‘Fanny’ is slang for buttocks in the USA but in Australian slang means ‘vulva’. To speak of giving someone ‘a pat on the fanny’ may be quite acceptable in the States: not in Australia!)

But how do my readers feel? Do they understand and feel at ease with anatomical terms? Some women still don’t know the difference between ‘vulva’ and ‘vagina’ and are uncomfortable with these words, preferring less explicit terms such as ‘down below’. Many still blush at the mention of ‘clitoris’: such is the power of guilt and shame attached to female sexual arousal and this erotic organ. How can we find a happy medium?

Finding suitable words for sexual intercourse is the most difficult task. My Macquarie Thesaurus gives 33 alternatives for sexual intercourse, all unsatisfactory in some way. They fall into categories of technical, evasive and coarse slang.

The technical terms are terrible. ‘Copulation’ is from the Latin ‘to couple’, which is also something you do to railway lines. ‘Coitus’ is a sharp word that sounds like a piece of machinery. And these terms really only refer to the penis-in-vagina part of sex.

Then there are the evasive euphemisms, ranging from the ambiguous like ‘congress’, ‘favours’ and ‘making love’ (have you heard of the judge who, summing up in a pack rape case, said ‘… each of the nine men repeatedly made love to the woman’!) to the ridiculous, such as ‘funny business’, ‘kneetrembler’ and ‘nooky’.

The most offensive for me are those harsh slang terms with a violent, hostile,

punitive ring, such as ‘bang’, ‘fuck’, ‘lash’, ’screw’ and ’shag’. These words (and I find it really hard to write them) all infer something that’s done to someone (usually a woman) rather than with someone, and imply the very opposite of the mutual warmth, consideration and joy that I like to associate with sex.

Sexual intercourse seems the best of a bad lot, so I’ll use it in this book. Even this term is ambiguous – remember ‘An Evening’s Intercourse with Barry Humphries’? – but I’m sure readers will know what I mean.

It’s disturbing to note that the most offensive slang words for sex organs and sexual activity are now commonly used pejoratively or as angry expletives. It’s no compliment to be called ‘dick-head’ or told to ‘fuck off, or that you’ve ’screwed things up’. I believe such use of these words conveys something sinister about attitudes to sex. Until recently it was a criminal offence to print ‘cunt’, which was considered the most obscene word in our language (and it means the female genitals!). Now it’s in The Macquarie Dictionary, and you hear people shouting it abusively in public.

*86/31/5*