The Century of Sex
- Current Status
- In Season
- James R. Petersen
- History, Pop Culture, Nonfiction
We gave it an A-
The sexual revolution was a miserable failure, if you take it in the utopian terms mandated in the ’60s: We didn’t make love, not war, happily ever after. But drop the notion that the revolution was conjured out of thin air in about 1967, and a different picture emerges. Take a longer view, and the sexual revolution was both inevitable and successful, maybe the only successful revolution of the century. It was a slow but drastic transformation of culture and society that began no later than 1912 and was closely connected to two other developments, the urbanization of life and the emancipation of women.
This is the picture you get from The Century of Sex, journalist James R. Petersen’s Hugh Hefner-commissioned account of the sexual transformation of American life and the frantic efforts to conceal, thwart, and deny it. It’s a lively, casual mosaic of anecdotes, statistics, historical road markers, and preserved-in-amber slices of sex life, with no room left to discuss psychological or historical complexities. But within its basic framework–the liberation of the libido–everything falls into place.
And everything is here, from Evelyn Nesbit, the 16-year-old beauty riding naked on a velvet swing in Stanford White’s love nest, to Monica giving Lewinskys in the Oval Office; from Anthony Comstock, the self-appointed turn-of-the-century censor and sex scourge, to his contemporary dour feminist incarnation, Catharine Mackinnon; from the “white slave” panic of 1910 to the “satanic ritual abuse” panic of the 1980s.
By the time Petersen reaches the climax of the revolution in the 1970s, he resembles a waiter in an overcrowded restaurant, darting between orgies at Studio 54 and Plato’s Retreat, ”The Joy of Sex,” gays and lesbians, sex shops, and Marilyn Chambers, an Ivory Snow model, in the porn classic ”Behind the Green Door.”
And yes, Hefner, ”Playboy”’s founder and philosopher, who contributes a foreword to the book, is also one of its heroes, arriving with fanfare in the chapter on the 1950s. You almost expect, along with the book’s engaging illustrations, a centerfold of Miss 20th Century to pop out. Hefner’s brand of merchandised fantasy does come in for criticism from some quoted feminists here, but he gets the last word, because if this book proves something, it’s that the real sexual revolution and women’s liberation are two sides of the same American coin, a very civilized multiplication of individual choices and freedoms.