Scan barcode
Reviews
The Purity Myth: How America's Obsession with Virginity is Hurting Young Women by Jessica Valenti
crystalstarrlight's review
4.0
UPDATE: Bumping this up to 4 stars after reading [b:Full Frontal Feminism: A Young Woman's Guide to Why Feminism Matters|390778|Full Frontal Feminism A Young Woman's Guide to Why Feminism Matters|Jessica Valenti|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1328853752s/390778.jpg|380389], because this book is a lot more balanced and speaks with more facts.
This isn't really a review, more of a mish-mash of my thoughts and feelings about this book. So be warned: it's messy and unorganized.
I found the book very insightful, brimmed with thought-provoking arguments and comprehensive research. I appreciated a book that looked at the Virginity Myth from all aspects--what virginity was, how it affects women, where it is found, how pervasive it is, etc. This topic is close to me, as I was one of those women raised under the Virginity Movement (not so much by my parents, but by my church and by Focus on the Family's Brio magazine and Boundless.org website--two places that anyone who isn't 100% a virgin would want to avoid AT ALL COSTS). I was told to maintain my virginity until marriage (to a virgin male), that sex would lead to babies, STDs, and lots and lots of heartache (Uh, doesn't LIFE ITSELF lead to lots of heartache???), that women weren't as sexual as men, and other miscellaneous scare tactics that Valenti addresses. Reading a book like this opened my eyes to a lot of the myths I was told as a teenager, and more importantly, affirmed something that I've really embraced as an adult: that a woman is more than capable of being responsible for her own sexuality. That no one should tell her what her worth is based on who she has sex with or how much sex she has (I mean, MEN aren't held to that standard, now are they?). That virginity is a CHOICE that a WOMAN should choose if she wants to--not something forced on her by society or the men in her life.
Two of my favorite quotes:
This book wasn't perfect. In Chapter 6, Valenti notices the similarity between the Virginity Movement's agenda and the anti-abortion agenda and then suddenly uses the two interchangeably. I would have liked to see who and what were supporting abstinence-only education and anti-abortion, a deeper connection between the two houses of thought.
I found that Valenti could be very harsh to the Virginity Movement proponents. I don't doubt the abstinence-only education lies (I remember a few myself), but I have a hard time believing all abstinence-only education is that sloppy and horrible. In fact, many times it seems that Valenti is rather harsh to the Virginity Movement, in a way that goes above and beyond what is required. Is she doing that because she was hurt by the slut-shaming (which is understandably horrible and SHOULD NOT be done)? Or is she using this as a tactic to get her point across? And while Valenti makes a lot of good points in the book, not all of her beliefs agree with mine (which ones aren't the focus of this "review").
I am really glad I read this book; I found it empowering and educational, a hope to women everywhere that one day they will be judged like men--by their character, instead of how "tight like Spandex" they are.
This isn't really a review, more of a mish-mash of my thoughts and feelings about this book. So be warned: it's messy and unorganized.
I found the book very insightful, brimmed with thought-provoking arguments and comprehensive research. I appreciated a book that looked at the Virginity Myth from all aspects--what virginity was, how it affects women, where it is found, how pervasive it is, etc. This topic is close to me, as I was one of those women raised under the Virginity Movement (not so much by my parents, but by my church and by Focus on the Family's Brio magazine and Boundless.org website--two places that anyone who isn't 100% a virgin would want to avoid AT ALL COSTS). I was told to maintain my virginity until marriage (to a virgin male), that sex would lead to babies, STDs, and lots and lots of heartache (Uh, doesn't LIFE ITSELF lead to lots of heartache???), that women weren't as sexual as men, and other miscellaneous scare tactics that Valenti addresses. Reading a book like this opened my eyes to a lot of the myths I was told as a teenager, and more importantly, affirmed something that I've really embraced as an adult: that a woman is more than capable of being responsible for her own sexuality. That no one should tell her what her worth is based on who she has sex with or how much sex she has (I mean, MEN aren't held to that standard, now are they?). That virginity is a CHOICE that a WOMAN should choose if she wants to--not something forced on her by society or the men in her life.
Two of my favorite quotes:
"When I argue for an end to the idea of virginity, it's because I believe sexual intimacy should be honored and respected, but that it shouldn't be revered at the expense of women's well-being, or seen as such an integral part of female identity that we end up defining ourselves by our sexuality."
"For the record, I think virginity is fine, just as I think having sex is fine. I don't really care what women do sexually, and neither should you. In fact, that's the point. I believe that a young woman's decision to have sex, or not, shouldn't impact how she's seen as a moral actor."
This book wasn't perfect. In Chapter 6, Valenti notices the similarity between the Virginity Movement's agenda and the anti-abortion agenda and then suddenly uses the two interchangeably. I would have liked to see who and what were supporting abstinence-only education and anti-abortion, a deeper connection between the two houses of thought.
I found that Valenti could be very harsh to the Virginity Movement proponents. I don't doubt the abstinence-only education lies (I remember a few myself), but I have a hard time believing all abstinence-only education is that sloppy and horrible. In fact, many times it seems that Valenti is rather harsh to the Virginity Movement, in a way that goes above and beyond what is required. Is she doing that because she was hurt by the slut-shaming (which is understandably horrible and SHOULD NOT be done)? Or is she using this as a tactic to get her point across? And while Valenti makes a lot of good points in the book, not all of her beliefs agree with mine (which ones aren't the focus of this "review").
I am really glad I read this book; I found it empowering and educational, a hope to women everywhere that one day they will be judged like men--by their character, instead of how "tight like Spandex" they are.
kirstizoe's review
5.0
Overall I thought this was a great book.
I grew up in a conservative evangelical Christian household and attended churches and camps that taught many of the messages that Valenti is fighting against, and I admire her for that. I have seen first hand how they are hurtful, and have seen too many young women uneducated on sex rebel and end up pregnant before they are ready. Its a major issue with young women today that we are absolutely blind to.
I also appreciated that Valenti did not attack all religious individuals, simply those that impart this message (as I remain a liberal evangelical, I know, we do exist)
However I would have like to seen more than a few passing statements about those of us who chose to remain sexually monogamous. Valenti argues that sex is a moral choice, (it is) but what she fails to mention is, so is celibacy. That while there is the push and pull of you must be sexy/ you must be virginal, that young women can make the choice, on their OWN, if and when they will have sex. I think this was her intent, but mostly what I got was, "sex is great lets have some."
I grew up in a conservative evangelical Christian household and attended churches and camps that taught many of the messages that Valenti is fighting against, and I admire her for that. I have seen first hand how they are hurtful, and have seen too many young women uneducated on sex rebel and end up pregnant before they are ready. Its a major issue with young women today that we are absolutely blind to.
I also appreciated that Valenti did not attack all religious individuals, simply those that impart this message (as I remain a liberal evangelical, I know, we do exist)
However I would have like to seen more than a few passing statements about those of us who chose to remain sexually monogamous. Valenti argues that sex is a moral choice, (it is) but what she fails to mention is, so is celibacy. That while there is the push and pull of you must be sexy/ you must be virginal, that young women can make the choice, on their OWN, if and when they will have sex. I think this was her intent, but mostly what I got was, "sex is great lets have some."
reli's review
5.0
This book is about the stupid, and pathetic hysteria around female virginity in the United States - peddled by the Christians.
It’s hard to know what’s more problematic: the pseudo-incestuous talk of covering or the antiquated notion that fathers own their daughters and their sexuality. Perhaps the upside of these balls, however, is how overtly they epitomize the ideals of the virginity movement. There’s no hiding behind the rhetoric of empowerment here—the message is clear and direct: It’s up to men to control young women’s sexuality.
When I first heard of purity rings and fathers taking daughters out for dates, I found it disturbing. At the same time extremely interesting how we, humans, can normalise anything. Americans just as they created this myth around virginity - which is nothing (after sex you are the same person), they also created the myth that if a human being tries to run away from their slave masters, they are mentally ill! I was mind-blown.
But sexualizing girls is part of this ideology.
Fathers giving these kids purity rings, fathers taking these kids on dates are seen as adorable and as men being good fathers, spending quality time with these kids
I didn't know that the sexy young kids that made all American men horney - Jessica Simpson and Britney Spears was part of this cult, they both had their virginity rings and swarn to be virgins whilst their families became rich by their daughters selling the image of "the girl next door"
And, the irony is, that this cult is against feminism, yet feminists do more not hyper-sexualize and protect body autonomy than these people who promote the idea that a girl is only good for her purity and her child-like persona, hence
It’s hard to know what’s more problematic: the pseudo-incestuous talk of covering or the antiquated notion that fathers own their daughters and their sexuality. Perhaps the upside of these balls, however, is how overtly they epitomize the ideals of the virginity movement. There’s no hiding behind the rhetoric of empowerment here—the message is clear and direct: It’s up to men to control young women’s sexuality.
When I first heard of purity rings and fathers taking daughters out for dates, I found it disturbing. At the same time extremely interesting how we, humans, can normalise anything. Americans just as they created this myth around virginity - which is nothing (after sex you are the same person), they also created the myth that if a human being tries to run away from their slave masters, they are mentally ill! I was mind-blown.
But sexualizing girls is part of this ideology.
Fathers giving these kids purity rings, fathers taking these kids on dates are seen as adorable and as men being good fathers, spending quality time with these kids
I didn't know that the sexy young kids that made all American men horney - Jessica Simpson and Britney Spears was part of this cult, they both had their virginity rings and swarn to be virgins whilst their families became rich by their daughters selling the image of "the girl next door"
And, the irony is, that this cult is against feminism, yet feminists do more not hyper-sexualize and protect body autonomy than these people who promote the idea that a girl is only good for her purity and her child-like persona, hence
[S]adly, it’s not just girls who are bearing the brunt of what author M. Gigi Durham calls the “Lolita effect.”4 Grown women, buying into the notion that the only desirable sexuality is a young one, are embracing girlishness in more and more ways—even getting plastic surgery on their genitals just to be seen as sexually attractive and youthful.
alliereads_'s review
emotional
informative
inspiring
2.5
I was really intrigued by Jessica Valentin’s undertaking in The Purity Myth, but unfortunately this book failed to live up to my expectations both in content and style.
The concepts and analysis were all a bit too elementary for my taste - not bad in any way, but simply nothing new or informative for me, personally. I do wonder how much of that is a result of The Purity Myth’s 2009 publication date. I can see this being a compelling introductory text to feminist theory (despite my vehement disagreement with Valenti regarding the porn industry), but I’m simply past that point in my reading.
My main issue with Valenti’s writing is that it is so overwhelmingly repetitive. I was waiting for more depth throughout the book, but instead I kept reading the same thesis stated in the same way - reading became a chore and I sped through the last third to just get it over with. There were brief (and repetitive) references to lesbians, women of color, and poor women, and how they are hit hardest by the purity movement, but no actual effort was made to examine their unique perspective. I also would have been interested to see more along the lines of “purity being about forever girlhood”, and how that creates a pedophilic society. That said, Valenti does write in an accessible way that’s not often found in academic or theoretical text, and which I appreciated.
To anyone interested in this topic, Allison Yarrow’s 90s Bitch has a fantastic chapter on the depiction of loss of virginity in 90’s television shows - and how the women are always punished afterwards in the narrative.
I would love to see Valenti publish an update to The Purity Myth and take a look at how much has changed in 15 years - not necessarily for the better (Roe v. Wade, TikTok, etc.)
jeff_finley's review
4.0
I turned this review into a more refined blog post here https://makermistaker.com/purity/
I can't be the only man who got caught up in the purity thing himself. I was a proud male virgin up until I was 21. I "saved" myself for the woman I eventually married and wore the virgin label as a badge of honor. I also didn't drink or smoke. I studied, got good grades, behaved well, overachieved, and was well-liked. I was a "good" kid by all accounts. Parents and teachers approved. Although rare, I sometimes got labeled by other students a goodie-two-shoes, suck-up, teacher's pet, or just straight up "nerd" for not indulging in what I considered "bad" things like sex, drugs, or alcohol.
While I'm grateful for a "clean" upbringing that allowed me to focus on academics and career, it brought along some baggage that I am now sorting through and healing.
I grew up in with religious shame surrounding casual sex. I was taught that sex was sacred, an act between two lovers - specifically a husband and wife - a man and a woman only. You don't "give away" your sex to just anyone. I also learned to become ashamed of masturbation or porn. And that certain types of sex were more "wrong" than others.
I also learned about feminism and observed how negatively girls talked about "players" and "jerks". Guys that just wanted women for sex. How selfish and nasty! They are taking something from these girls! Gasp! They are abusing them! Must save the girls!
The female voices in my life back then were outwardly saying they don't want that. Subconsciously I took on the role of being a hero or a savior for women. I wanted to be a "good guy" that treated his girl like a Queen. That was the "right" way to be.
This kinda worked for me, I had some genuine female friends in high school. I was well-liked by girls, but not quite lusted after. They liked me because I wasn't like "most guys." They felt safe with me, would talk to me about their bad boyfriends, and I felt important and virtuous.
Of course I'd feel sexual attraction to these girls. But I was afraid to be sexual because of fear of rejection or disapproval. Afraid of embarrassment actually. Shame. I really internalized this idea that sex was BAD and that guys were bad for wanting it, girls were bad for doing it, and the only GOOD sex was between two married people.
I basically castrated myself and rejected that part of my personality because of sexual fear and shame that is so pervasive in our culture. Yet was frustrated because we're constantly seeing sexualized media and pornified images everywhere we look. What a mind-fuck!
It's only in the past couple years I'm finally starting to accept myself as a sexual person and that it's totally OK! And that I define what my sexuality is, not anyone else. Not society, not other men, not feminism, and definitely not religion.
But on the positive side, this "abstinence" from sex allowed me to develop my sensitive emotional side which still continues to be one of my most valued attributes in my relationships. So I'm not bitter about it!
To be honest, it's actually in my conversations with "sluts," porn performers and kinksters that I have had my most profound healing. They are humans just like me and are relatable and are no better or worse. It gives me permission to own my sexy side and still be acceptable and lovable. Thank you to the sluts of the world for paving the way for the rest of us to embrace our whole selves! We no longer need to reject or hide a part of ourselves that we consider "dirty" or profane.
I can't be the only man who got caught up in the purity thing himself. I was a proud male virgin up until I was 21. I "saved" myself for the woman I eventually married and wore the virgin label as a badge of honor. I also didn't drink or smoke. I studied, got good grades, behaved well, overachieved, and was well-liked. I was a "good" kid by all accounts. Parents and teachers approved. Although rare, I sometimes got labeled by other students a goodie-two-shoes, suck-up, teacher's pet, or just straight up "nerd" for not indulging in what I considered "bad" things like sex, drugs, or alcohol.
While I'm grateful for a "clean" upbringing that allowed me to focus on academics and career, it brought along some baggage that I am now sorting through and healing.
I grew up in with religious shame surrounding casual sex. I was taught that sex was sacred, an act between two lovers - specifically a husband and wife - a man and a woman only. You don't "give away" your sex to just anyone. I also learned to become ashamed of masturbation or porn. And that certain types of sex were more "wrong" than others.
I also learned about feminism and observed how negatively girls talked about "players" and "jerks". Guys that just wanted women for sex. How selfish and nasty! They are taking something from these girls! Gasp! They are abusing them! Must save the girls!
The female voices in my life back then were outwardly saying they don't want that. Subconsciously I took on the role of being a hero or a savior for women. I wanted to be a "good guy" that treated his girl like a Queen. That was the "right" way to be.
This kinda worked for me, I had some genuine female friends in high school. I was well-liked by girls, but not quite lusted after. They liked me because I wasn't like "most guys." They felt safe with me, would talk to me about their bad boyfriends, and I felt important and virtuous.
Of course I'd feel sexual attraction to these girls. But I was afraid to be sexual because of fear of rejection or disapproval. Afraid of embarrassment actually. Shame. I really internalized this idea that sex was BAD and that guys were bad for wanting it, girls were bad for doing it, and the only GOOD sex was between two married people.
I basically castrated myself and rejected that part of my personality because of sexual fear and shame that is so pervasive in our culture. Yet was frustrated because we're constantly seeing sexualized media and pornified images everywhere we look. What a mind-fuck!
It's only in the past couple years I'm finally starting to accept myself as a sexual person and that it's totally OK! And that I define what my sexuality is, not anyone else. Not society, not other men, not feminism, and definitely not religion.
But on the positive side, this "abstinence" from sex allowed me to develop my sensitive emotional side which still continues to be one of my most valued attributes in my relationships. So I'm not bitter about it!
To be honest, it's actually in my conversations with "sluts," porn performers and kinksters that I have had my most profound healing. They are humans just like me and are relatable and are no better or worse. It gives me permission to own my sexy side and still be acceptable and lovable. Thank you to the sluts of the world for paving the way for the rest of us to embrace our whole selves! We no longer need to reject or hide a part of ourselves that we consider "dirty" or profane.
ashpanda88's review
4.0
Valenti bases her book on the main thought behind purity culture, that women's value is placed entirely upon her sexuality and she can only be a virgin or a slut. It doesn't matter whether she is smart or ethical. There is no in between. The purity obsession wants to keep women as girls, enables abusers, and allows for the marginalization of women. It wants doctors to lie to women. It wants abstinence-only education in schools, including textbooks with un-scientific statements and incorrect 'facts'. That alone is hurting our youth more than helping. The truth behind purity culture is that they want to keep women in their place, in their traditional roles. And men too.
Valenti calls for an understanding of sexuality that respects women and is sex-positive. She asserts that with a more sex-positive culture, we can fix many of the societal issues that hold women (and society) back.
I enjoyed this book and thought the author had many good points. It was also well researched. I just thought that it could have been more organized and written more convincingly for those who don't already agree with her. She is a blog writer so expect that type of writing if you choose to read this book.
Valenti calls for an understanding of sexuality that respects women and is sex-positive. She asserts that with a more sex-positive culture, we can fix many of the societal issues that hold women (and society) back.
I enjoyed this book and thought the author had many good points. It was also well researched. I just thought that it could have been more organized and written more convincingly for those who don't already agree with her. She is a blog writer so expect that type of writing if you choose to read this book.
fae713's review
4.0
Jessica Velenti took on a huge topic and tried to parse it down into sections and language that the average person would have no trouble understanding. She made it clear from the beginning that she was writing from the perspective that people can have sex and not be bad or immoral. I think I only have two problems with what she wrote and how she went about it.
1 - She mentions that there are 8 criteria that every abstinence only program must teach in order to receive funding, but doesn't even give a summary of what those 8 things are.
2 - At no point in time does she ever address what the abstinence only crowd appears to think about women who have gotten married and are now sexually active. I don't know if this is because the abstinence only groups don't address it at all or because it was irrelevant to her point. I feel like there should have been something about it mentioned, if possible, because there is so much riding on girls maintaining their flaunted virginity until then. What happens after that? Are these women then just old crones or invisible or worth little more than the women were who didn't wait?
Regardless of my two problems, it is definitely something that I think anyone who has any curiosity at all about American culture should read.
1 - She mentions that there are 8 criteria that every abstinence only program must teach in order to receive funding, but doesn't even give a summary of what those 8 things are.
2 - At no point in time does she ever address what the abstinence only crowd appears to think about women who have gotten married and are now sexually active. I don't know if this is because the abstinence only groups don't address it at all or because it was irrelevant to her point. I feel like there should have been something about it mentioned, if possible, because there is so much riding on girls maintaining their flaunted virginity until then. What happens after that? Are these women then just old crones or invisible or worth little more than the women were who didn't wait?
Regardless of my two problems, it is definitely something that I think anyone who has any curiosity at all about American culture should read.
sara_shocks's review against another edition
4.0
Thorough, fairly intersectional examination of the damaging effects of purity culture and how pervasively the virgin/whore dichomtomy has influenced mainstream discourse around women having sex (even considering this was published in 2009). I would have been fine if Valenti had moved the footnotes into the main text, and I also wish she would have dug a little more into the evangelical push for purity culture (Jesus and John Wayne does cover that topic over the late 20th century).