I had heard of The Vagina Monologues once or twice before, but never really noticed until I saw the title peering out at me from the Women's Studies section of my local Half Price Books. It's a relatively small volume and sounded interesting, so I picked it up and added it to the pile.
A friend came over a few days later and started reading a random monologue from it while I was cleaning my room. It was the monologue entitled "The Little Coochi Snorcher That Could," which happens to be quite a sad story, though it ends in the woman's healing and restoration.
That was the point at which I was certain I would enjoy this book. I knew it would introduce me to more women like this and make me sit back and think. That's exactly what it did.
The Vagina Monologues is exactly what it sounds like. It's a series of monologues all about vaginas originally performed by Eve Ensler. It is a collection of stories, of moments, concerning women and the various relationships they have or have had with their vaginas. From the girl whose husband forced her to shave her vagina, though it was uncomfortable and upsetting for her, to the one whose boyfriend taught her that her vagina wasn't something to be ashamed of, but something beautiful; these stories are the stories of women who have been systematically told that their vaginas are dirty places that should never be spoken of, when the truth is exactly the opposite.
I really enjoyed Eve Ensler's collection of monologues. Each was heartfelt and portrayed women from every end of the spectrum. It was absolutely what one would call art; poetry about a faction of humanity that has been taught that the very thing that makes them who they are is something to be ashamed of.
It is absolutely worth reading, for men and women. It opens your eyes, makes you sit back and think. Ensler may not have realized the power she tapped into when she began her "vagina interviews," but it is raw and untamed and exactly what I had hoped for when I cracked open The Vagina Monologues.
Rating: ★★★★☆
We forget the vagina, all of us
what else would explain
our lack of awe, our lack of wonder.
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