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Although Blank calls this "the last taboo," photos of women masturbating are commonplace in porn. The difference here is that these women don't seem to be doing this for anyone but themselves. Perhaps it's because, for the most part, they aren't the lacquered teenage breast-implantees one finds in the pages of various men's magazines. Or perhaps it's just that they look like they're having fun sometimes. Whatever, the photos certainly capture nuances of the act that may fascinate women who've never seen another woman masturbate (or have never done it themselves), or men curious about the workings of female sexuality minus the presence of a partner. The interesting facial expressions of the women easily hold their own against the ... ahem ... other body parts.
The photographers, obviously inspired by their subjects' willingness to share who and what they are, create images that stand with their own best works. Almost all elect to work in the most mundane surroundings - living room sofas and bedrooms are the most frequent - which gives an even more heightened sense of our having "walked in" on each scene we witness. The images are done so elegantly, in black and white or duo tones that dismissing them as "porn," "trash," or "ugly" requires a leap of puritanical proportion. All the photographers bring their own styles to their subjects, but are never heavy-handed or unnecessarily "artsy" in their approach, most electing to use simple daylight or only the most basic artificial lighting. Each portfolio gives rise to wonderful, sweet secrets seen through the eyes of the artists and the bodies of their subjects: a hand grasps into the fabric of a pillow case during an intense moment; a nipple pinched and pulled until it seems ready to burst in a spray of milk and honey; a housecat wanders into the scene to rest at a woman's feet, as if to share in the pleasure of the moment; a belly dips in the light, revealing a faint trail of hairs leading to hungry, desire-slicked lips. With each moment, each detail, we see each woman more clearly, and perhaps our own selves and desires as well.
The artists seem to return the inspiration as each woman contributes their own written introduction to their portfolios. Some write poetry that ripples with the scent and textures of their sex while some offer gentle prose of the feelings that swell in them as they touch themselves. Many offer their own sexual history, clear-eyed and unapologetic, a testimonial to the freedom of body and mind they've come to own and cherish. The more that we're shown; the more we wish to see, share and feel ourselves. In its way, I Am My Lover: Women Pleasure Themselves is like the very act that it reveals to us - a simple but magnificent reward to body, soul and mind, a book we can always open again and again.
NOTE: One of the saddest things I've noticed about the other reviews here is the number of WOMEN who have derided this book, especially the one who claimed to have "laughed with her friends at it" before returning it. I showed my copy to an erotic model that I have worked with and she howled in disgust at the age of some of the women in this book, her position being that anyone "old" shouldn't be sexual in front of her (I won't go into the things she thinks are okay here). I wonder if I'll ever understand the way women police and censure each other.
It IS for you (whether you are female, male, straight, gay or bi) if you are interested in seeing real women gleefully demonstrating their favourite methods of masturbation in gorgeous black-and-white photographs by a selection of different photographers (some female, some male as well), accompanied by their own words and thoughts about solo sex.
"I Am My Lover" is joyous, liberatory, educational, and jaw-droppingly erotic. None of the photos are "staged" or designed to fit someone else's idea of what's sexy - the sexual energy is so real it seems to shine off the pages.
The photographers, obviously inspired by their subjects' willingness to share who and what they are, create images that stand with their own best works. Almost all elect to work in the most mundane surroundings - living room sofas and bedrooms are the most frequent - which gives an even more heightened sense of our having "walked in" on each scene we witness. The images are done so elegantly, in black and white or duo tones that dismissing them as "porn," "trash," or "ugly" requires a leap of puritanical proportion. All the photographers bring their own styles to their subjects, but are never heavy-handed or unnecessarily "artsy" in their approach, most electing to use simple daylight or only the most basic artificial lighting. Each portfolio gives rise to wonderful, sweet secrets seen through the eyes of the artists and the bodies of their subjects: a hand grasps into the fabric of a pillow case during an intense moment; a nipple pinched and pulled until it seems ready to burst in a spray of milk and honey; a housecat wanders into the scene to rest at a woman's feet, as if to share in the pleasure of the moment; a belly dips in the light, revealing a faint trail of hairs leading to hungry, desire-slicked lips. With each moment, each detail, we see each woman more clearly, and perhaps our own selves and desires as well.
The artists seem to return the inspiration as each woman contributes their own written introduction to their portfolios. Some write poetry that ripples with the scent and textures of their sex while some offer gentle prose of the feelings that swell in them as they touch themselves. Many offer their own sexual history, clear-eyed and unapologetic, a testimonial to the freedom of body and mind they've come to own and cherish. The more that we're shown; the more we wish to see, share and feel ourselves. In its way, I Am My Lover: Women Pleasure Themselves is like the very act that it reveals to us - a simple but magnificent reward to body, soul and mind, a book we can always open again and again.
NOTE: One of the saddest things I've noticed about the other reviews here is the number of WOMEN who have derided this book, especially the one who claimed to have "laughed with her friends at it" before returning it. I showed my copy to an erotic model that I have worked with and she howled in disgust at the age of some of the women in this book, her position being that anyone "old" shouldn't be sexual in front of her (I won't go into the things she thinks are okay here). I wonder if I'll ever understand the way women police and censure each other.
The women are ordinary women -- some older than others, some larger than others, with the occasional tattoo or piercing; often using just their hands, sometimes using a vibrator or dildo.
This is clearly not a book of erotica designed to arouse, but a book of beauty designed to inform. This book joins Joani Blank's "Femalia" on my book shelves as a book I'm proud to own and proud to show around to friends.
