Vaginas lose sense of self in Monologues

I must admit, I approach the subject of the Vagina Monologues with great trepidation. Why this hesitancy? No, it is not because I am ashamed to talk about vaginas, or less reductively, female sexuality, as the Monologues seems to imply that women generally are. Instead, I do not want to give the impression that because I find fault with the Monologues themselves, I do not support the explicit mission of the Vagina Monologues and "V-Day." I could not agree more that stopping violence against women throughout the world is an admirable, and necessary, cause. Rape, incest, genital mutilation and domestic violence must all be stopped, and to that end The Vagina Monologues is right on in its quest to raise awareness and money.

Stories about the inhuman treatment of women in Afghanistan, Yugoslavia, and even in our own country in scenes like "Under the Burqa," "My Vagina Was My Village," and "Crooked Braid" were truly eye-opening. The female students who acted these monologues portrayed their respective roles with expression and empathy.

The same quality of acting can be said of all the monologues, in fact. The effort that went into the production is apparent, and is in itself commendable. And yet, undercutting the good and noble purpose of the Vagina Monologues is the fact that while attempting to empower and elevate women, they implicitly present a very limited view of female sexuality and thus of females themselves.

Throughout the production, a woman's very personhood is equated with her vagina. The idea that the vagina is "who you are" is constantly reiterated. This doctrine is especially evident in the monologue "The Vagina Workshop," where the woman discusses her attempt to give herself an orgasm, noting that when she finally does, she discovers that her clitoris was "the essence of me."

How very sad that a woman's whole person--her heart, mind, and soul--should be reduced to a part of her sexual anatomy. Indeed, a woman's sexuality is a very real and integral part of her person. Human sexuality in general is a beautiful and fruitful thing; sex is a life-giving act which results from the unity of man and woman. And contrary to the deriding remark, "we all know Christians don't have vaginas," in the monologue "Vagina-Friendly Map," human sexuality is not viewed negatively in its proper context by either the Catholic Church, nor by any organized Christian church of which I am aware. The last monologue, "I Was There In The Room," somehow intimates this positive view of human sexuality as seen in the beauty of childbirth, and yet there is sadly a missing partner to all the sex talk in the Monologues--namely, love.

Instead the Vagina Monologues employs sexually explicit language and crassness that is really not any more shocking than prime-time television's celebration of a woman's sexuality for its ability to be personally gratifying. I will concede, there are decidedly funny moments. Particularly, the skit "My Angry Vagina," which discusses the typical female traumas of tampons and gynecological exams, as well as the skit "I was 12, My Mother Slapped Me," which discusses learning about or experiencing menstruation for the first time, are generally light-hearted and humorous, hearkening to a time of slumber parties and "girl talk."

Yet, underneath the humor, the Vagina Monologues nonetheless exalt women as sexual beings. It is interesting how men are derided--rightly so--for viewing women as mere sexual objects. And yet, to some extent, this is what is being done in the Vagina Monologues. Women seem to be viewed solely in a sexual context.

In the monologue "Intersex," there is discussion of women who are born without normal female genitalia. This scene emphasizes that a woman is a real woman with or without a vagina: and yet I thought that according to the Monologues, as a woman, my vagina is who I am, and that my clitoris is the essence of me? I agree with the woman in "The Vagina Workshop" who said when she was asked to describe her vagina that this is a "reductive and awkward" way to view women.