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$pread Magazine - Issue 3.4
Working Girls Book Awards: The Best and Worst of Sex Worker Lit
By Monica Shores
Just as Hollywood can’t resist a script with a hooker, stripper or porn star, neither can the publishing world turn down any memoir, study, or anthology that purports to shed some light on sex work – or just divulge the dirty details. For every well-written, funny fascinating book that’s released, there is inevitably a trashier, more biased, or just plain fake story that hits the presses as well. (One blogger , “Shirley Shave” had a piece published in The Best Sex Writing of 2005 before the author revealed himself to be a gentleman attempting to drum up interest in his novel.)
Here’s a look at some of the most remarkable sex work books out there; the only criterion to merit an award was that the book be unique enough to provoke a strong reaction. Settle down for the winter with any one of these selections and prepare to be entertained or angered – or both! If a particular book pisses you off, just don’t say we didn’t warn you.
Memoir Whose Author You’re Most Likely To Want To Have A Drink With:
Strip City by Lily Burana
Lily Burana’s book is the Holy Grail of sex worker autobiographies. It’s funny, honest, and flawlessly written. The story centers around Burana’s last hurrah before marriage, a strip club road trip undertaken with the intent of determining, once and for all, exactly how she feels about her past as an exotic dancer. Along the way, she chronicles the exhilaration of the best nights and the hopelessness of the worst, reminisces about her time spent as a teenage peepshow dancer and later, as a young woman agitating for more equitable working conditions at the famous San Francisco O’Farrell Theater.
As her countrywide tour continues, her fiancé asks “how much more” and she struggles with “never want(ing) to leave that warm, wet spot on the lip of the maw.” There are no easy answers for Burana or for her readers: “Such as can be done, I did everything right. And this business still kicked my ass sideways.” Yet the lack of any definitive conclusions is what gives the book its strength and integrity. Strip City may be most valuable to other sex workers because, in the end, reading it is like conversing with a thoughtful coworker about all the best and worst aspects of the job without any judgment or demands to “make stripping okay. Solve it.”
Autobiography Least Likely to Improve Sex Work’s Public Image:
The Happy Hooker by Xaviera Hollander
Ms. Hollander deserves credit for being loud and proud about her love of her life as a prostitute and madam. She never paints herself as a victim, even when she’s being blackmailed by a stranger or paying off the New York City police department. Yet her enthusiasm for her work comes with an almost indiscriminate sexual appetite, and she takes on men, women, multiple partners, and even a dog without a moment of hesitation.
While some may find her voracious sex drive subversive and admirable, the idea of a hooker as an uncontrollable nymphomaniac is by no means a new concept. In her less likeable moments, Hollander dismisses independent call girls as “losers” and is horribly snotty to the street prostitutes with who she occasionally shares a jail cell. The Happy Hooker is worth reading for its sense of humor and somewhat dated instructions – she recommends tying a venetian blind cord around a client’s penis to serve a cock ring - but don’t pass it on to anyone who already thinks “hooker” is a euphemism for “slut.”
Most Controversial Memoir Among Sex Workers:
The Pleasure’s All Mine by Joan Kelly
The Pleasure’s All Mine is sure to start a conversation between any two sex workers, no matter what their particular trade, as it deals directly with the type of “rules” sex workers establish for themselves and their communities. Joan Kelly is a lifestyle submissive who becomes a pro primarily out of her desire to receive the type of domination she’s been unable to find in her personal life. She breaks the rules of the dungeon where she works by asking that a customer take off her g-string and then finger her, and while working as an independent submissive she has sex with a client.
This book touches on some of the boundaries sex workers most fiercely maintain, such as whether it’s okay to have sex with a client if you’re a BDSM provider or whether one is allowed to get sexual gratification from a session. Although it’s not the primary focus of the book, Kelly’s honesty provides a springboard for other workers to examine what defines and limits their own work encounters.
Best Sex Work Anthology:
Whores and Other Feminists edited by Jill Nagle
While no sex work book survey would be complete without grateful acknowledgement of the seminal 1987 anthology Sex Work, edited by Delacoste and Alexander, Whores and Other Feminists has more contemporary relevance, as well as a cadre of amazing writers whose writing brims with personality, passion, and critical thought. Many essays combine personal experience with social reflection, resulting in such simple but powerful revelations as “the only answer (seems to be) that the men aren’t interested in the truth of the women’s experiences” and “as soon as you leave, you realize, oh well, I’m not really valued for my other skills as a woman in our culture. I am valued for this one thing.” There’s an examination of the Barbie doll’s origins as a hooker, a meditation on sacred whoring, and a point-by-point refutation of the myths that haunt strippers, as well as explicit discussions about the experiences of women of color and lesbians in the sex industry. The variety of styles, voices, and viewpoints is dazzling and inspiring; Whores and Other Feminists is like an invitation to the world’s most provocative party, where each guest is more interesting than the next.
Worst Sex Work Anthology:
Naked Ambition edited by Carly Milne
Naked Ambition claims to highlight “women who are changing pornography,” yet essay after essay illustrates instead that many of these women work very hard to change as little as possible. Aside from a few engaging and refreshingly frank articles – those by Regina Lynn, Shane, and Tristan Taormino come to mind - don’t expect to read about the value of accurate portrayals of female pleasure, improved working conditions, or less draconian beauty standards. Most of these authors seem so immersed in the industry status quo – of talking big, looking out for only yourself, and focusing solely on how much money you can make – that there’s no room for any reflection on what could be improved. Those authors who don’t fall into this category are often merely uninteresting, unpracticed writers who seem at a loss for what to say beyond cataloging their previous sex-related jobs, or dull daily work tasks. At its worst moments, Naked Ambition is a celebration of cutthroat capitalism, arrogance, and isolation. For the rest of the time, it’s merely boring.
Most Boring Prostitute Memoir:
Belle de Jour by Anonymous
In the beginning, Belle de Jour seems like a fake. As if taking their cues from an early “Sex and the City” episode, many bloggers who identify themselves as young, high class hookers claim to have gotten in the biz after a gorgeous older gentleman picked them up at a bar, then left a pile of cash in the morning. The alternative, similarly cinematic route is when a gorgeous female acquaintance is inexplicably compelled to suggest that the writer follow her lead and become an expensive call girl. Belle de Jour alleges first one, then the other.
But ultimately it’s all too mundane to be made up. If you could invent as many glamorous experiences as you wanted, why dwell over petty disputes with a boring boyfriend or constant, unremarkable trips home to see your parents? This author makes even water sports and fisting sound yawn-worthy. Skip this book for one of the many free “call girl” blogs that, fake or not, will provide much more entertainment. Better yet, why not start your own?
Most Sympathetic Portrayal of Working Girls by an Outsider:
Brothel by Alexa Albert
Alexa Albert is a rather rare individual in that her time as a researcher at the Mustang Ranch came about not out of a social or moral agenda, nor as a result of having any particular stance on prostitution at all. Her desire to conduct studies there sprung from her interest and education in public health, particularly her near disbelief of the brothel association’s claims that since HIV testing had been made mandatory, no brothel worker’s result had been positive.
Albert’s clear, competent prose guides us through her time at the brothel, acquainting us with the many working women she comes to know and care for as friends, sharing anecdotes about the history of Nevada’s brothels, and offering criticism where it’s warranted. (For instance, she questions why only prostitutes would be tested for HIV and hepatitis, when surgeons and dentists could also act as vehicles of transmittance.) While it’s sad to have a category that distinguishes a book merely for its lack of judgment, and perhaps sadder still that the academic who is capable of delivering such a book is outside the field of social sciences, Albert’s text stands on its own as a sincere, entertaining work on America’s only legal venue for selling sex.
Most Potent Sex Work Cocktail:
Indecent by Sarah Katherine Lewis
Sarah Katherine Lewis has come a long way, from a woman who never shaved her armpits or owned a thong to a career “girl for hire,” dabbling in peepshows, solo porn, and stripping, and she details it all in her first book, Indecent. Lewis’s writing is funny, enthusiastic, and often angry, and she has an uncanny knack for finding places of employment that yield an almost unbelievably eccentric cast of characters. (The most unusual of these are found at the Temple of Shakti, a massage parlor where the women insist they are doing sacred work and are therefore protected from contracting any diseases in spite of not practicing safer sex.)
Although Lewis is generally a likeable narrator, the caustic hatred she has for her customers (“You know what would really make me feel good, Cooper? Sawing your cock off with a rusty tin can lid.”) quickly becomes oppressive, and by the end of the book she is increasingly destructive, drinking heavily and stealing a customer’s wallet. Ultimately, Lewis can’t shake the belief that the sex industry is wrong because it “increase(s) our alienation from each other,” that it perverts “beautiful and communicative” sex and “destroy(s) everything that it stands for.” She never reconciles this conviction with her years of participation in the sex industry, nor does she manage to make this argument seem any less moralistic or sentimental than the fundamentalist Christians or anti-prostitution feminists that tout a similar point of view. Indecent is as loud and aggressive a memoir as the cock rock metal bands whose song titles head each chapter. And if that’s your style, you’re bound to love it.
Book That Should Be Required Reading For Customers:
Paying For It edited by Greta Christina
Paying For It was ostensibly created as a guide for clients who would like to get the most out of their service, for men (and women!) who are concerned about strip club protocol, or what etiquette to employ when visiting a prostitute. Which is a great idea – except for the fact that the clients who would benefit most from this book are probably not sensitive or savvy enough to actually utilize it. If the unshowered guy demanding that he receive a blowjob during your stage dance can’t even muster the courtesy to tip you while he’s being a pig, chances are he’s not heading down to the local Barnes and Noble after he finishes his beer to read up on what he could have done to make you feel more comfortable.
In actuality, then, Paying For It acts as a tremendous stress valve for the individuals who were lucky enough to contribute to the book. Christina admits it herself in the introduction: “Here, you’ll find a lot of things that sex workers want to say to their customers but don’t feel like we can.” A more useful book might have been a collection of essays advising sex workers on how to coax this courteous behavior out of their clients by themselves, in the moment. While most workers have already devised ways to negotiate less than favorable clients, it never hurts to have more tricks, and as cathartic as it may be to read or write, “wash your smelly balls before I bury my nose in them, dear,” doing so might not be the most effective course.
Best Academic Book on Sex Work:
Live Sex Acts by Wendy Chapkis
You may not be interested in what academics want to tell you about the sex industry, and it’s easy to see why; the distanced, sterile approach often assumed in academia rarely accurately portrays the work and workers, and more often than not is twisted to satisfy the researcher’s own agenda. Why turn to a university professor to teach you about the work you do every day? Live Sex Acts provides the answer.
Chapkis makes sense of the “sex wars” with precision as she outlines the various positions feminists and social activists adopt about the sex industry. Her overview is thorough and accurate, yet beyond merely providing a sex debate road map Chapkis adds a new dimension to the controversy with her meticulous inclusion of sex worker voices. She even devotes an entire chapter to sex worker self-advocacy when most academic tomes, indefensibly, do not even acknowledge the sex worker movement. This difference in quality and readability most likely stems from Chapkis’ honest interest in improving the sex work discussion rather than proving her own preconceived notions. By her own admission she “attempted to diminish the effect of my own bias” by including “perspectives different than my own,” and she has succeeded.
Best First Person Account of Sex Work:
Rent Girl by Michelle Tea
Although Rent Girl is identified an illustrated novel, Michelle Tea herself has said “it’s not fictional” and ultimately, labels seem irrelevant for a book so full of verve and wit. Tea’s prose is electric and selective, capturing perfectly the mindset of an adventurous 21 year old who “wants to try things, everything, especially things that are illegal and have a faint whiff of glamour.” Michelle as character and narrator is sincere, likeable, funny: “he was paying a lot of money to have a really bad time” and “I was ready to meet the madame, the queen, queen of the hookers.”
The anger and frustration that can accompany prostitution is relentlessly examined whenever it occurs, leading to musings like “maybe the anti-sex industry feminists were right, maybe this was evil work, work that tore the fragile scabbing of every wound every girl ever got, again and again, till pain felt regular.” In the first few pages of Rent Girl, Michelle says “I am trying to give you a landscape, a crumpled map.” Her crumpled map fills an entire, vibrant book, and says more than a review of her work ever could. Read it.
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