illustrated by Andyn
In what sense is the protagonist of this book “bad”? Well, I suppose a “bad” woman is the opposite of a “good” (that is, conforming to the heteropatriarchal social expectations) girl, as exemplified by Noemí Casquet herself at a tender young age:
Era buena. Sí, la niña buena. Me sentaba con las piernas cruzadas. Me callaba cuando por la calle me silbaban cual perro. Lloraba todas las noches por no sentirme a gusto con mi cuerpo. Odiaba mi menstruación y el ciclo menstrual. Adoraba los dramas repentinos en las relaciones, los portazos y los llantos seguidos de polvos de reconciliación. ¿Sexo en grupo? Jamás. Llevaba sujetador cada día de mi existencia porque tenía un pecho más grande que el otro y se marcaban los pezones con el frío. Qué vergüenza ir sin sostén. La gente sabría que tengo pezones. Estuve en una relación extremadamente tóxica y de maltrato psicológico durante seis años. Me pilló demasiado joven, a los catorce, justamente cuando empezaba a explorar mi sexualidad. Me negué durante demasiado tiempo mi bisexualidad. Creo que me negué todo lo que conllevara follar y dejarme llevar, en general. Me veía fea y gorda y estúpida. Quería seguir el camino establecido como la que más: casarme, tener hi jos, un trabajo estable en una oficina y una casa propia. Era celosa e impulsiva, dramática y egocéntrica. Me importaba lo que decían los demás. Tenía una ansiedad tremenda y a veces no quería salir de la cama.
Of course, it is up to the reader to discover her own unique way to be “bad”. One thing is clear: a “bad woman” is an informed woman. And the book does a good job to inform. In a space of some two hundred plus pages, it covers topics such as gender identity, sexual and relational orientation, self-esteem, “anatomy for dummies”, menstruation, masturbation, sex toys, squirting, hetero- and homosexual practices, STI/STD and their prevention, contraception, group sex, BDSM, Tantra, pornography (complete with the list of the ethical/feminist porn producers), romantic love (or “de mierda”, in the author’s words), emotion management, toxic relationships, and relationship contracts — and all in a rather lighthearted, easy-to-read, humorous way. There is even a QR code for Noemí’s sex playlist. Who said that the revolution can’t be fun?
I guess, as a cisgender man, I am not exactly this book’s target audience. Who cares, I thoroughly enjoyed it anyway. What I found (not) a little bit irritating were the author’s forays into pseudoscience, which I think do not help her cause at all. No, there is no proven correlation between the lunar phases and human physiology, including menstrual cycle and neurotransmitter levels. She could have made a convincing case for the use of menstrual cup without the rant about the evils of “chemicals”. I was also alarmed at a mention of emotional intelligence (which always scores high on my bullshit radar) although what she goes on to say about emotion management is just a common sense advice to verbalise what you feel and want — because none of us is a clairvoyant. The list of yes/no questions in the section 4.2.5 (the more “yeses”, the more “toxic” is a relationship) actually includes a question where “yes” is a healthy answer; I hope that is corrected in the future editions.
The book wouldn’t be half the fun if not for striking black, white and red drawings by Andyn (Andrea Núñez), the young illustrator from Gran Canaria. One more reason to forget the Kindle and opt for a real thing. Ironically, the cover of the book as shown at Amazon or whatever other online shop sports a cartoon girl with her nipples covered by an embossing tape label that reads #FreeTheNipple while the physical copy that I borrowed from our library has no such abomination (see how it should look here).
No comments:
Post a Comment