Book Review & Giveaway: The Purity Myth by Jessica Valenti

2009 at 10am     Posted by Rebecca Joines Schinsky

puritymyth

Set for publication April 1, 2009 by Seal Press

The Book Lady’s celebration of Women’s History Month continues (belatedly) with this fantastic book from Jessica Valenti, one of America’s most prominent, promising young feminists.

The lie of virginity—the idea that such a thing even exists—is ensuring that young women’s perception of themselves is inextricable from their bodies, and that their ability to be moral actors is absolutely dependent on their sexuality. It’s time to teach our daughters that their ability to be good people depends on their being good people, not on whether or not they’re sexually active.

This statement sums up the primary message of The Purity Myth: How America’s Obsession with Virginity Is Hurting Young Women. Members of the virginity movement, which encourages young people (mostly young women) to remain virgins until they are married, have put such a powerful spotlight on young women’s sexual behavior (or lack thereof) that they have come to equate virginity with morality. And that’s a big problem. Never mind the fact that there is no working medical definition of “virginity” (or of “sex,” for that matter).

Before we go any further, let’s get one thing straight. This isn’t a book about how virginity is bad. It isn’t a book that encourages young people to go out and engage in thoughtless, meaningless, or risky sexual behavior. This is a book that identifies and explores the problems that arise when women’s morality is defined and judged by their decisions about sexuality.Valenti says it very clearly:

I think virginity is fine, just as I think having sex is fine. I don’t really care what women do sexuallity, and neither should you. In fact, that’s the point…a young woman’s decision to have sex, or not, shouldn’t impact how she’s seen as a moral actor.

The virginity movement wants young women to think that their moral goodness or badness lies in their sexuality.

When young women are taught about morality, there’s not often talk of compassion, kindness, courage, or integrity. There is, however, a lot of talk about hymens.

It also fetishizes youth and virginity to such a degree that it presents the message that “really sexy women aren’t women at all—they’re girls.” That is disturbing, to say the least.

This movement, aimed at controlling women’s sexual expression and returning them to traditional gender roles as wives and mothers,  presents definitions of virginity that are murky at best and that exclude entire groups of our population by presupposing that the only acceptable kind of sex is sex that occurs within the confines of a marriage between a man and a woman. This renders members of the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) community invisible, and it assumes that they will (or should) remain celibate, essentially, forever because they are currently not allowed to get married.

And you better believe that exlusion is intentional.

By conflating sexuality and morality, the virginity movement teaches young women that “sex makes us less whole and a whole lot dirtier.” And by demanding that women are only valuable insofar as they are able to become wives and mothers, it makes women (and purity) the property of their fathers and, eventually, their husbands. At purity balls, the movement requires young women to pledge their virginity to their fathers, promising that they will abstain from sex (and, often, from any potentially sexual activity) outside of marriage. But does it ask the same of young men?

The answer is a resounding no. When young men attend “integrity balls” with their mothers, they promise not to remain virgins themselves but “not to sully someone’s daughter or future wife. So, in either event, maintaing women’s purity—and men’s ownership—is the goal.”

The greatest irony in the virginity movement is that, by focusing on young women’s sexuality, it is “doing exactly what it purports to abhor—objectifying women and reducing them to their sexuality.”  It is

fighting sexualization with more sexualization—we just don’t always recognize it as such because it’s shroudedin language about modesty, purity, and protection.

But make no mistake, the obsession with virginity is not about protecting or empowering young women. It is about simultaneously painting women as the gatekeepers of sexuality who must be responsible for men’s sexual behavior and as moral and intellectual inferiors who “can’t be trusted to make decisions about their bodies.” The virginity movement makes women’s purity men’s property because it “presupposes that women don’t know what’s best for them,” and that men are better equipped to make decisions about women’s sexuality. If you don’t believe that, take a look at the number of men in positions of power in government and religious communities, and look closely at the ways in which they attempt to legislate women’s sexuality.

The virginity movement bases women’s worth on their abilities to please men, and it requires them to “shape their sexual identities around what men want.” Pleasure, and the idea that sex can—and should—be an amazing, collaborative part of a relationship are entirely absent from the dialogue.

Taking the joy out of sexuality is a surefire way to ensure not that young women won’t have sex, but rather that they’ll have it without pleasure.

In the virginity movement, women are either virgins or whores, and “there’s no in-between identity for young women who are making smart, healthy choices in their sexual lives.” We need to begin teaching our young women that they are so much more than their ability to be (or not be) sexual. Obsessing about their virginity reduces young women to sexual objects just as much as “Girls Gone Wild” does, and it is just as dangerous—and more insidious—because it claims to do so for women’s own good.

In the pages of The Purity Myth, Valenti further explores the concepts I’ve discussed here and takes closer looks at the relationships between the virginity movement and pornography, abstinence-only sex education, anti-choice (and anti-woman) legislation, and the ways women are presented in media and virginity movement propaganda. She calls us to remove sexual behavior from the definition of morality and to focus instead on the idea that

sexual intimacy should be honored and respected, but that it shouldn’t be revered at the expense of women’s well-being, or seen as such an integral part of female identity that we end up defining ourselves by our sexuality.

Valenti’s book is smart, well-written, biting, and right on the money. Her arguments are clear and are laid out very well, and she presents her information and larger feminist ideas in a way that is both accessible to newcomers and in-depth enough for readers who are more familiar with feminist rhetoric and movements.  There are so many great ideas in this book that I really could write a 10-page paper about it. I’ve done my best to give you the highlights here, but really, you need to read it to fully appreciate it.

If I could, I’d buy 100 copies of this book and give them out to random women (and men…they could benefit from it as well) because this is a message that needs to get out, and this is an important book for feminists of all ages. I loved it, and I’m sure that if you are someone who believes that women have the right to be sexual and to make their own decisions about their sexuality, this is a book you won’t want to miss.

Seal Press has generously offered to give away 3 copies of The Purity Myth to lucky readers. Leave a comment here to be entered, and blog/tweet/stumble this giveaway (and leave a second comment w/ the link) for a second entry. This contest closes at 11:59pm Eastern next Friday, April 3rd.

Check out Jessica Valenti’s website Feministing for more information.