Smart Bitches Trashy Books | All of the romance, none of the bullshit.

In Mary Jo Putney’s Dancing On the Wind (the first historical I ever read, btw), Lucien and “Jane” (Kit) are getting hot and heavy on the divan, and she claims she needs to take “precautions,” which she indicates is some kind of birth control.

Of course, she’s actually using that as an excuse to make good her escape w/o him noticing, but the fact is, she does use birth control as a believable excuse.

(She also *doesn’t* use bc when they finally do the deed, but whatever.)

I just read a Karleen Koen historical, and her heroine was barren, which effectively solves the problem of unwanted pregnancies. Good plot device for maximum scrumpage.

Or they are aristocrats and can just pass the baby off to the wet nurse/governess.

Or somehow the main couple can go at it for months, and not get pregnant until the time is right, which is a bit too tidy for my tastes.

I’d like to see a romance with obscure birth control descriptions, but I like my historicals grimy and realistic.

Well the negotiation of sex is a form of birth control though it is not often talked about. Things like withdrawal, and sex other than vaginal, including forms of frottage (breast, buttocks and underarms,) that last one was far more conmen then, than it is now.

While I don’t have documentation historically I know both were I am from Newfoundland and Cuba (lots of friends from there) had a tradition of tonics and teas for menses. While many mothers tell their daughters its to help with cramps many are actually abortive that are taken for 3-5 days before menses on a regular basis, there by preventing some pregnancy’s with out having many of the moral compilations of “birth control” I would not in the least be surprised if historically there were things like this.

Ash

I think a vinegar or lemon juice soaked sponge was the most popular form of contraception for women, although there were various herbal concoctions one took to prevent conception, as well (or to facilitate early termination).  Let’s see, I can remember books by Lisa Kleypas (Forever, My Love), Robin Schone (pretty much all of them, with an interesting scene from Awaken, My Love to illustrate the point), Susan Johnson (her most recent historical, as well as some of her earlier books), Eloisa James (the one where the heroine thinks she’s too frail to have kids so her husband gives her one of those “remedies"), uhm, uhm, uhm, I know there are others.  Did Judith Ivory of Patricia Gaffney address this issue?  How about in Sleeping Beauty?

Nicole Jordan’s characters frequently go about with silk pouches filled with “sponges with thin strings attached and bottles of liquid” (brandy or vinegar) that are usually supplied by the hero, who then makes a production of instructing the heroine in its uses, or he himself inserts it as part of foreplay.

I also vaguely recall some of Catherine Coulter’s western books (Wild Star, etc) using similar birth control.

Not about birth control but heroines’ virginity: a few friends and I have observed that several fantasy romance novels feature “revirginification.” The one I’m personally familiar with—not naming names here—features a heroine who is a prostitute, but whose body is returned to its “pure” state, hymen intact, just in time for Twu Wuv to come along. That was nearly a throw-the-book-across-the-room moment for me.

In “Border Bride” by Arnette Lamb the mistress uses a contraceptive sponge.  The heroine finds it and apparently knows enough about birth control to know what it is.

In “The Actress & The Marquis” by Cindy Holbrook there is a very funny scene where the grandmother of the hero asks the heroine (whom she believes to be his actress/mistress) if she uses the “French letter,” and the heroine replies, “Of course.  And every other kind, English, Italian, Greek!  I know my translations, and… uhm… use them!”

I remember Susan Johnson’s usage of doushing with various liquids, but not much beyond that.

Speaking of real life contraceptives, the ancient Mediterranean world (Rome, Greece, Asia Minor, etc.) used Silphium as a contraceptive (Pliny the Elder mentions it).  It was used so much that it became extinct!

I can’t remember any mentions off the top of my head, but I do think I’d rather go without the crocodile dung in the scene.

I didn’t read the lack of birth control as being because the Pure Innocent Virgin isn’t allowed to know such things. I thought the H/H don’t use it because evil whores hate babies, while virtuous heroines can’t wait to get knocked up by their true love. Or something.

C’mon, people, nobody’s read Diana Gabaldon? i KNOW you have. Claire does the whole sponge-in-oil thing, and teaches it to her friends. and i think there are also mentions of certain teas that can prevent conception or cause abortion. dangerous teas, but there ya go.

In one of the early Amanda Quick’s-I think it was Seduction the heroine drinks an herbal tea. Other than that,I got nuthin’.

The heroine in Jane Feather’s “Accidental Bride” uses herbs to keep from conceiving (though there is some confusion as to whether she injests them orally or stuffs them up her vagina) because one of her bestest friend is an herbalist. And I’m pretty sure I’ve read about the “herbal” method before.

And in Susan Johnson’s “Legendary Lover” they use condoms (borrowed from some other lord at the ball) and then have arguments about whether they should keep doing it after they run out of condoms.

I remember one of Elizabeth Lowell’s “Only...” westerns in which the vinegar doused sponge is used as a contraceptive… and that’s pretty much the only historical I remember where a contraceptive method is part of the plot in any way! Hmmm....



spamfoiler: cent41 (but it’s more like two only)

It doesn’t bother me when the heroine in a historical doesn’t use birth control as much as it bothers me when she doesn’t even thing about the possibility of getting pregnant.

Having said that, I’ve read historicals where they use condoms, sponges, half of a scooped out lemon (yes it would work, like a diaphragm), withdrawal (coitus interruptus), herbal douches, herbal teas, rhythm method, and mutual masturbation. 

Something like a vinegar soaked sponge may not be perfect by modern standards, but I’m willing to accept almost any historic method as a plot device.

Yay!  Thanks for the quote, Sarah, I squealed a bit.  Ok, a lot. 

I think its that the virgin who understands birth control is somehow less pure.  Purity in these romance novels is a huge deal, and there is some weird view that the hero’s sperm must be completely accepted in order to make their love complete, a la Dawn Eden.  I read one novel where the pirate kept pulling out, as he had for all his lovers, and the way the heroine knew he loved her was that he came inside her- or, how was it put?  Was finally willing to give her a piece of himself that he had never shared.  I almost threw up.  “You dumb bint!” I yelled, feeling strangely British, “Don’t you know you are still engaged to another man!?”

I think the reason heroines it’s the same reason that women, especially college women, are afraid to carry condoms- it implies that they know sex could happen, and that they are somehow slutty because of that.  Meanwhile, going to a bar knowing you want sex and NOT bringing protection and having unsafe sex is somehow more pure.  Likewise, we (well, someone) want our heroines way purer than regular “Grade A Virgin”- she also can’t masturbate, understand her body, have good sex with anyone else, have sex with women, or plan her babies. 

One of the most interesting books I have read is “When Abortion Was a Crime.” It discusses the shift to the idea that an abortion was a medical procedure end a pregnancy, whereas prior to that it was simply “bringing on menses.” (If anyone is interested, its also the book club book over at Pandagon, and the text is available online).

I’ve *heard* that in the Victorian era (and before, I’m sure) married couples sometimes had anal sex exclusively if it would’ve been dangerous for the woman to have more children. That’s an undocumented fact, but fun all the same!

In one of my books, the hero withdraws. In another, the heroine uses herbs (taken orally) because she don’t want no bebbies. Evil? Very possibly.

The never thinking about pregnancy thing (*cough Suzanne Enoch cough*) drives me nuts too.

I’ve been encountering contraception in hsitoricals more and more lately. In Jo Beverely’s Something Wicked, the heroine even writes a pamphlet about it. Others: The Duke by Galaen Foley (sponge), Fool for Love, the Eloisa James previously mentioned (sponge/called a sheath - but the heroine is incorrectly informed by her knowledgable friend that you can’t get pregnant the first time). One Night of Sin Foley (condom), One Night with a Prince by Sabrina Jeffries (condom).  I confess I kinda like to see the condoms, I get squicked out by all the promiscuity…

I suspect we’d enjoy historical romances a great deal less if they weren’t sanitized. Romance authors seldom describe all the disgusting aspects of living in the past, especially in Medievals when people had rotten teeth, body odor and lice.

I confess I kinda like to see the condoms, I get squicked out by all the promiscuity…

I totally agree! But I also love the ol’ “he always uses a sheath, but forgets with his true love” plot device. I’m sorry, but I love it!

Mock me if you will. Those of you who don’t have a magic hooha simply don’t understand. It’s a burden shared by only a few of us.

I don’t think that it’s always a case of the heroine being a virgin in romance novels.  Admittedly this was predominantly the case in the historicals written in the 1980s, but in recent years I’ve seen a fair number of historical romances that didn’t have viginal heroines.  It may not be the majority of the romances in print, but non-virginal heroines even “scandalous women” as heroines do exist.

You are spot on about the birth control.  I can only think of a few instances where it’s addressed (usually by the guy using “French letters.” But, you’re right, it tends to be one of the things which are glossed over in the novels.

Being a virgin with a vast expanse of sexual knowledge, I just find the idea of the virgin who’s completely unaware of sex rather tedious. So I wouldn’t find knowledge of birth control methods, or sex in general, to be out of character or distracting, even in a historical.

In “Beast” by Judith Ivory the hero uses condoms at the beginning of the book with his married lover.  Her husband is such a man ho that the hero is afraid to have sex with her unless it’s wrapped.

I read one where the girl used some block of wood that was a “folk” remedy. and quite a few (surprisingly) that use some sort of sponge like contraption. It is often remarked upon by the hero that he finds it extremely sexy, or puts it there himself. HMMMM...? Doubtful?

Being a virgin with a vast expanse of sexual knowledge, I just find the idea of the virgin who’s completely unaware of sex rather tedious.

But completely and totally accurate. There are women in the Victorian time and earlier who are known to have consulted their doctors for infertility but who were *shocked* to find out they had to have sex in order to get pregnant. Their husbands were impotent and they didn’t know there was a problem. They didn’t know sex *existed*. And I’m talking educated, intelligent women. Marie Stopes, the future birth control and sex education crusader, was one of them - and she had a double major with double honours in SCIENCE from Munich University.

Susan Johnson had one of her heroines use a cervical cap (sorry, I don’t remember which book...probably came out in the late 90s.) Of course, the hero was so, er, “manly” that the cap was knocked out of place and they then had to use condoms.  Loretta Chase (?) wrote a book I read in high school about a female doctor in turn of the century NY who was advocating for BC rights.  Good book, if I remember correctly, and described well the impact of the Comstock Laws and difficulties in being an advocate for BC in those days.  Check out a bio of Margaret Sanger for even scarier descriptions.
Regarding the virgin not knowing anything...two points.  One:  that bullshit about not getting pregnant the first time is STILL going around and most sex information comes from a woman’s friends.  Translate that to women in the 1800s and you have a recipe for ignorant disaster.  Two:  I don’t mind the virgin not knowing anything.  I’m more skeptical about her not freaking out that someone is touching and invading her hooha, having multiple orgasms and loving sex from the get go. Statistics today would indicate that many young women don’t masterbate and, um, get to know themselves better.  Thanks to the Hooha Monologues perhaps, the message is getting out (and has obviously reached the women of this board...yay!) But a woman from the 1800s getting jiggy wi’ it?  First, consider that she probably doesn’t know that it is a source of enjoyment.  Secondly, consider how badly “it” probably would have smelled.  Ugh.  I wouldn’t want to put my hands on/in it either.

Candice Hern’s In the Thrill of the Night the heroine drinks a concoction before the event in order to ward off pregnancy. This method was suggested by one of her fellow “merry widows”.

Or somehow the main couple can go at it for months, and not get pregnant until the time is right, which is a bit too tidy for my tastes.

While we were living together, my man and I had unprotected sex for about a year before we conceived ... two weeks after we got married. Is that tidy or what? I’m pregnant with my third child right now and it took us something like six months of “baby dancing” to conceive. Yes, some people get pregnant at the drop of a hat, but for some it takes months, sometimes even years, before it happens.

I don’t recall reading any romances that talked about BC, but Michael Faber’s The Crimson Petal and the White went into graphic description of the prostitutes douching themselves almost violently after sex to avoid pregnancy.

Pennyroyal, and tansy I think, is what was used in the concoction mention in Candice Hern’s book. The abortifacients prevented implantation, but were chancy because if you weren’t careful about the dosing you could end up poisoning yourself and causing damage your organs.

Jen said “...it’s the same reason that women, especially college women, are afraid to carry condoms- it implies that they know sex could happen, and that they are somehow slutty because of that.  Meanwhile, going to a bar knowing you want sex and NOT bringing protection and having unsafe sex is somehow more pure.”

When I was in college, I had a neighbor who was 2 years younger than me and still in high school, inform me that “nice girls don’t use birth control because that means you’re planning to have sex and nice girls don’t plan to have sex.” I wasn’t surprised when she wound up pregnant a few months later.

and now 20+ years later, I occasionally substitute teach and unfortunately I’ve heard almost those exact words come out of the mouths of a few of the students.

‘Kay, I admit to being a little OCD:  I went and searched for the books.  The Susan Johnson book was “Brazen” published in 1995--let me tell you it fried my little teenaged mind. If I’d had a vibrator then many, many batteries would have been sacrificed to the lust goddess.  Ten years later just the cover can make me a littel wibbly. 

The other book was by Lindsay Chase (not Loretta) and was titled “The Oath.” Good luck finding it as it was published circa ‘91, but it was a good book with an unusual setting and a (gasp!) woman with a career.  (It should be mandatory reading for all the infants out there who take their reproductive rights for granted.  Maybe they’d wake up and care that the GOP has been steadily chipping away at them for years.)

Back to the main topic, ultimately I don’t care about the virginity issue or the BC issues as long as they’re used in character.  I definately get skeeved by rampant unprotected promiscuity, especially with prostitutes (hello Mallory boys!).  I think unusual (and use of BC/masturbation/what goes where would qualify) sexual knowledge needs to be explained in the character.  If 21st century women don’t know that urine doesn’t come out the clitoris (I read a published nursing journal that demonstrated appropriate technique for placing a urinary catheter...the diagram showed it being inserted into the clitoris!) and tampons don’t go in the anus, I have a very low threshold for what I expect 19th century women to know.  And I always expect the men to know less.

Statistics today would indicate that many young women don’t masterbate and, um, get to know themselves better.

I’m actually shocked when people are surprised/horrified/taken aback that a historical heroine wouldn’t have discovered the magic of her clitoris. Now I’m not saying there shouldn’t be masturbating heroines out there; far from it. But there are plenty of women in this enlightened day and age who don’t have orgasms until later in life, self-administered or not. And we modern women know without a doubt that orgasms are out there, just waiting for us. I think you can excuse the poor historical heroine if she’s not rubbing off every night. She didn’t get her copy of My Body, My Self.

To Victoris:
Amen, sister!  And may I say that I wish my mom had just handed me a copy of My Body, My Self (I got mine in college) and not drawn all those embarassing sketches!  :)

When I was in college, I had a neighbor who was 2 years younger than me and still in high school, inform me that “nice girls don’t use birth control because that means you’re planning to have sex and nice girls don’t plan to have sex.” I wasn’t surprised when she wound up pregnant a few months later.

Well, if it’s good enough for the federal government . . . that federal funding for sex ed is dependent on teachers NOT saying anything about condoms except to stress their weaknesses, and to allow ONLY abstinence only “education” is very revealing, isn’t it?  As is the study done a couple of years ago on how kids who take those abstinence/virginity pledges routinely engage in riskier sexual behavior to avoid hymenal breakage, resulting in higher levels of STDs.  And lest we forget what happened in Texas this past election—okay, now I’m depressed.

I was scarred by reading James Boswell’s diaries too young - the contraception not only sounded a bit unappealing, but it demonstratably didn’t work. He seemed to be eternally suffering with some or other sort of STD. And it honestly has left an association in my mind - if I read about a rake tying on a piece of sheep’s gut, I’d wonder who else he’d been with, and what diseases he was passing on.

When I was in college, I had a neighbor who was 2 years younger than me and still in high school, inform me that “nice girls don’t use birth control because that means you’re planning to have sex and nice girls don’t plan to have sex.” I wasn’t surprised when she wound up pregnant a few months later.

A while back, I lurked in a discussion on some romance board or other in which a poster—an author and reader of romance—opined that she doesn’t like to see heroines in romance novels carry or even consider using condoms (even in contemporary books) because it gives her the sneaking suspicion that these characters are somehow “dirty.” Diseased, on other words.

Because squeaky clean women don’t need to think of such things. Apparently, the supernatural properties of the magic hooha will ward off any and all viruses or infectious micro-organisms. Even in erotic romance, wherein the couples often get busy without knowing each other’s last names.

I had no response for this person that didn’t begin with, “You. Out of the gene pool. Now.”

And so I said nothing, assuming that her opinions about women and condom usage extended no further than the pages of the books she reads and writes, and that safe sex—monogamy, abstinence or actual use of actual rubbers—rules the day in her real life activities.

One can hope.

But a woman from the 1800s getting jiggy wi’ it?  First, consider that she probably doesn’t know that it is a source of enjoyment.  Secondly, consider how badly “it” probably would have smelled.  Ugh.

And this is why it always cracks me up when I see a historical love scene where the heroine’s twat is described as tasting like honey.  Um.  No, probably it tastes of sweat and old pee.  Romantic!

Amy--in defense of historical accuracy, people did wash in the old days, they just didn’t always have the opportunity to take a full bath, nor did they want to given the lack of heating and the difficulty in filling and emptying a tub.

But they’d wash areas where bacteria formed or that were viewed by the public--face, hands, neck, under arms and crotch.  You don’t have to wash your limbs every day, and in fact, it’s better if you don’t.  You’re washing off a lot of natural oils your body needs.

Also, you get used to body odor--yours and that of others--and eventually your sense of smell adjusts.

I find historicals where the heroine takes a full bath every day much more bothersome than one where she does a quick wash and maybe gets a twice weekly sit down in a tub if she’s wealthy.

My grandmother who was born in the mid 1880’s once said something in my hearing about what she called a “slut’s” bath-- explicitly “face, feet and crotch”. Seemed eminently sensible to me if you had to haul buckets of water to fill a bath.  She also acted in her community as a midwife and sort of health advisor to women, prior to 1950’s when it became easier to get medical care.  She recommended as did the mother of a friend of mine, sitting in a bath of really hot water and sipping weak penny royal tea if you “friend from Red River” hadn’t come to visit on time. 

Also about the sheep’s gut thing-- I too read Boswell’s journals and I think one of his problems was the fact that there was no way to get rid of an STD once you had it.  There were treatments (mercury!) that were either ineffective or killed you.  Diana Gabaldon’s book Lord John and the Private Matter deals with the situation where the hero learns that the person who is to marry cousin has the syphilis.  I had to admit I totally cracked up while listening to it when an apothecary offers the hero a sheath with a ribbon in regimental colors.  They were definitely durable goods rather than single use items!

One other point, on the eBay Pottery and glass board someone recent posted a picture of a condom keeper from the early 20th century.  It was Made in Japan for export.  It consisted of a small dish with a penis modeled on the side with a path from the dish to the end of the penis where there was a hole.  From what was said I wasn’t sure if you kept the condoms in the dish or put a condom on the modeled penis then tipped some sort of lubricate into it by tilting the dish.  However, it was a fascinating bit of birth control history that I had never heard of before.

In Beyond Seduction by Emma Holly the heroine douches after sex.  Of course, the hero has to show her how to do it - but hey, better than nothing.

Also, in I Do, I Do, I Do by Maggie Osborne, all the heroines use something that sounds like a cervical cap.  I can’t for the life of me remember what they called it now, but I go the gist when I read the story.

Yeah, I love the old pioneer romances too… Yep no lice right? no crabs? no head cheese? no week old sweat?

Fiction is great but I would not want to live there.

I find that it’s very hard for an author to write in the use of birth control ie:condoms, without interupting the scene. Just like in real life! : )
Erotica does a much better job of this the condom becomes part of the fun, the heroine puts it on using her mouth or whatnot.
In Romancelandia there is still that condom = slut.
In my mind condom = smart.

In Dara Joy’s High Energy, AFTER the deed had gone down the heroine THEN asked “Oh, what about..you know protection?” To which the hero replied “Don’t worry I took care of it.”
WTF? Was she not just there? Did the bitch have an out of Vajaay experience? Was my reply...but then we don’t read Dara Joy books because she write brainy heroines.
But then again in Dara Joys short story in the Christmas anthology (I forget the title) the hero boldly brings in a whole long of condoms because “they’re going to need them all.”

but as far as historicals go the only mention of birth control was doucheing after. And i’ll agree to being skeptical about the smell/taste of the people of those times as described in novels...(just as an aside here no one ever uses the toilet in Romacelandia either)...but i’m not sure I read romance for really real, reality.

Re: washing important areas only.  My mom’s family calls it a slut’s bath or PTA bath—pussy, tits and armpits.

I recall in Jean M. Auel’s Earth’s Children series (baby’s first smutty reading, *tear-wipe*) Ayla (I like to call her Barbie) uses herbal lore and mostly teas so she can bang Jondalar/"Ken" and later, Ranec, as much as she likes.
I also found in Suzanne Fisher Staples’ Shabanu: Daughter of the Wind and Haveli that the heroine uses some kind of dried chunk of vine as a cervical cap of sorts. A bit of a surprise to find that in a YA novel. I can still recall sitting in the library at my middle school with this stricken look on my face.

One of the things I love about Jenny Crusie’s novels is that there is such an insistence (generally speaking) on condoms.

It doesn’t bother me much in historicals, b/c we all know, as indicated by the discussion of “slut baths” and body odor, that we’re reading a cheerfully sanitized vision of the past. (You know what I always think of? Not body odor or lice. No. I think of hairy armpits. Especially in movies.) I just go along with the fantasy that “social diseases” (as the Victorians would say) are not a concern when TWU WUV is in the picture.

In a contemporary with no condoms...I just pretend the condom is there. It’s safe sex for my brain--it needs to be protected from the inevitable headdesking that results when I dwell on the lack of safe sex in the book.

(Confirmation word: ball67. Could only be better if it were ball69.)

Never heard it called a slut’s bath, but certainly heard the “quick wash out of a basin” referred to as a tits, pits and arse wash.

As for the whole “the heroine is a virgin and only sluts use contraception” thing—this is a contributing factor in why some of us prefer the Hot Boy On Boy Action romances instead. We get to have the whole “innocent virgin” thing when we feel in the mood, without it being compulsory… :-)

Hm. Security word is groups92. I know some people like menage, but that could be too much of a good thing.

A slut’s bath is know as a cat bath in my vernacular.

As for more birth control apperences in historicals (and I love ‘em too)--in Elizabeth Lowell’s Winter Fire, the heroine gets a recommendation for a homemade sponge and vinegar setup from a friend who is a former prostitute, Hope Tarr’s Vanquished features condoms, Lisa Kleypas’ Again the Magic has the secondary hero using withdrawal and bringing condoms to his lady love, Cheryl Holt’s got a huge withdrawal fetish, and in Elizabeth Holt’s The Raven Prince the subject of sponges and birth control gets mentioned.

Regarding the slut’s bath, I had never come across the idea til I met my husband, who refers to it as a whore’s bath, says he picked up the term in the military.

The ones I can think of (and I’m surprised nobody else did these yet!):

The Rest Falls Away- Aunt Eustacia gives Victoria some kind of drinkable potion to ward off pregnancy.

Mr. Impossible- Rupert uses the old pull-out method (followed by Daphne conspicuously having her period).

Most common historical BC I’ve read is withdrawal. Of course, the hero always loses control or the heroine MAKES him lose control at some point and the pregnancy is inevitable.

The brandy or vinegar soaked sponge is fairly common, but as others have said, the hero either instructs the heroine in it’s use or asks his friend, the “madam with a heart of gold” to tell her or, even worse, loan/give the heroine her pouch with the soaked sponge inside. Since I doubt that this was some unused one she just happened to have sitting around waiting to be loaned out… well… EEEEEWWWWWWW!!

I remember the Susan Johnson book where the heroine’s cervical cap was dislodged by her well endowed hero. As far as I can remember, that is the only historical to mention one.

French letters is oft mentioned yet seldom actually used between the H/H.

I believe it was Robin Schone’s “A Lady’s Tutor” that used champagne douches for BC.

The entire Skye O’Malley series by Bertrice Small used BC as a plot point. It started when Skye’s nun/midwife aunt taught Skye’s retiring woman/maid a potion that I believe was made from ground up wild carrot seeds. That potion was handed down to Skye’s descendents and their maids throughout the books.

Several books that take place in harems (including Bertrice Small’s) mention a BC drink that tastes like sherbert.

So BC IS discussed, but I think it is still more common in historicals for the H/H to be surprised when the heroine (or if she’s TSTL, someone else) realizes she’s “increasing.”

As for contemporaries, it used to be that pausing to ask for or grab a condom would interupt the flow of the scene. Now though, NOT mentioning it (at least with the H/H’s 1st encounter) takes me outside of the story because I can’t believe they are gonna bump uglies without one! Talk about TSTL!! ACK!

(You know what I always think of? Not body odor or lice. No. I think of hairy armpits. Especially in movies.)

I’m not the only one, then. Legs and arms like butter. Even the brunettes.

I’ll be in the corner with a straight-edge razor, trying not to sever my leg at the knee…

Regarding the slut’s bath, I’ve also heard it referred to as an airplane bath since you wash under the wings and tail!

In a contemporary with no condoms...I just pretend the condom is there. It’s safe sex for my brain--it needs to be protected from the inevitable headdesking that results when I dwell on the lack of safe sex in the book.

And I thought I was the only one to do that.  Author didn’t mention a condom, I’m just going to pretend it’s there.  It astounds me in modern novels when authors skip over this completely.  It always makes me think more poorly of the characters in the novel.

I’m always amused with how they get around this in paranormals.  Vampire is dead so technically he can’t carry any diseases.  Vampire is dead so sperm is non-viable.  Werewolf is different species, so can’t carry disease…

(You know what I always think of? Not body odor or lice. No. I think of hairy armpits. Especially in movies.)

I’ll be in the corner with a straight-edge razor, trying not to sever my leg at the knee…

When did leg shaving come into fashion?  I remember defiantly not shaving my legs (70’s) after begging to be allowed to shave my legs 3 years before (and nearly skinning myself with my dad’s single edge-- how did he always know I had used it?  My grandmother said she never shaved her legs. 

I remember in the first Robin Schone book (Awake, my Love) that the heroine who was from the present in a 19th century woman’s body did try to shave her legs with something that seemed inappropriate (maybe a straight edge).  Good thing she didn’t decide the woman needed a Brazilian.

In Beyond Seduction by Emma Holly the heroine douches after sex.  Of course, the hero has to show her how to do it - but hey, better than nothing.

Worse than nothing, actually.  Several studies have proven it has no contraceptive effect, and a few show that it actually *increases* the risk of pregnancy by forcing the lil’ swimmers further into her Fertile Womb. 

Just had to toss that out there because all the authors using that as birth control are offending my nurse brain.

I think you’ve hit most of the highlights:

Sponges with some kind of astringent. I’ve never heard of “oil” outside of Gabaldon (who I’ll admit I haven’t read much of0, don’t know where she got that idea. Don’t think it would work, though (the vinegar, lemon juice or alcohol changes the PH of the vagina and kills the sperm. That’s why it was at least partially effective).

Condoms. The thing is, it cracks me up when I see the hero in an historical pull one out of his pocket and put it on. These were made of sheep’s gut and had to be soaked in water to become pliable before use. Not very spontaneous.

Abortifacient. Throughout most of history some kind of herbal D&C was known. They often were prescribed as some kind of tonic to “bring on the menses” or to abort a “mole”. There are several recipes for them in Aristotle’s Masterpiece, one of the most widely distributed books in England from the time of it’s first printing in the 17th century on through the 19th century. It is also worth noting that it was not considered an “abortion” until the fetus quickened (could be felt moving), usually around 4 months.

Cervical Caps. Casanova recommend a half-lemon or half-lime. I’ve also heard of beeswax plugs (no idea how effective that would be).

ALL of my heroines (and most of my heroes) think about pregnancy and birth control. I think it’s only realistic since I’m writing about women who aren’t married and can’t just pass off the odd bastard as part of the family brood.

‘Did the bitch have an out of Vajaay experience?’

Love that.

A lemon slice in the coochie? OW. That would prevent pregnancy all right--by preventing sex.

When did leg shaving come into fashion?

Muslims (male and female) shave their pubic and armpit hair in accordance with the Sunnah, which is a pretty ancient text, so that’s been around for a while, I’m guessing. Although Wikipedia also cites depilatory useage among women.

Leg-shaving, however, esp. on females, came into being in the early 20th century as hemlines rose and the saftey-razor came into being.

When did leg shaving come into fashion?

I’m pretty sure that it was during the Roaring ‘20s - along with shorter dresses and the invention of the safety razor.

My grandmother never shaved her legs either - because she didn’t have any hair on her legs to shave! How did I miss out on that gene?!?

I read and ancient Roman set story where it involed some kind of waxy thread, I wasn’t convinced.

Elizabeth Chadwick has the heroine in one of her medievals show another woman how to count beads on a string as an early form of the rhythm method.  The heroine’s parents were dead, she’d had the hero’s child, and she realistically took up one of the few careers open to her by becoming a rich man’s mistress.  Liked that Chadwick didn’t vilify her, but one of the reasons I like Chadwick generally is that she rarely succumbs to the cliche.

One more for the road. I just finished rereading Jo Goodman’s 4 book series Compass Club, and in several of the sex sessions there is the whole pull out before ejaculation thingy.  I do hope that young ladies out reading these books realize that it is not anywhere near as good a BC method as condoms.

Wendy said: “Also, in I Do, I Do, I Do by Maggie Osborne, all the heroines use something that sounds like a cervical cap.  I can’t for the life of me remember what they called it now, but I go the gist when I read the story.”

That’s one of the stories I thought of too and it drove me nuts until I found the mention of it in the book - they called it a pessary.

Not romance but Eyes of Crow (author escapes me atm) had her Heroine chewing wild carrot seeds at various intervals and counting days and knowing specifically when and where she could have sex.

There was active body participation which was pretty cool.

One note on shaving--in Ovid’s Ars Amatoria, he specifically tells women not to (how did he phrase it?) “carry a goat under their arms,” I believe. Something like that. I’m too lazy to go look it up.

Translation? Do something about those hairy pits.

In the non-romance venue, Sharan Newman in the Catherine Levendeur books has Catherine using a sponge soaked in vinegar and attached to a string so she wouldn’t lose it. At this point in the series, Catherine is married, but I appreciate thoughts on women’s health and family planning.

Jeri Smith-Ready wrote Eyes of Crow. Not only did the heroine use it, she shared with others.

This is all fascinating. I confess, I generally give historical BC a passing thought (I do wonder how all of those rakes have made it this long without catching something that majorly messes up their junk) but then I acknowlege that I’m reading a fantasy version of the past. Not only are the women magically hairless and sweet smelling despite the lack of bathing, they were also absolutely gorgeous without a lick of cosmetics. Just a pinch of the cheeks and a bite to the lips, and it was like a date with Maybelline (unless you’re Eloisa James, who actually has characters who aren’t sluts who regularly use cosmetics).

But really, what I’m completely stuck on is the ARMPIT FUCKING previously mentioned by Ashley.  What what in my… armpit?

Sabrina Jeffries, Only a Duke Will Do, writes about a married woman using sponges to ward off getting pregnant. It’s a historical.

they were also absolutely gorgeous without a lick of cosmetics

That seems realistic to me. Some people prefer to wear makeup and others don’t, and neither group has a monopoly on looking good.

What I have a problem with is the opposite scenario. I recently read a romance in which the heroine is given a makeover and shown how to wear makeup. The implication that the heroine wasn’t making the most of her beauty/ wasn’t a true woman until she learned how to use makeup seemed very weird to me.

But really, what I’m completely stuck on is the ARMPIT FUCKING previously mentioned by Ashley.  What what in my… armpit?

AAAAhahahahaha!  What-what is my new favorite slang for humpage.

I find historicals where the heroine takes a full bath every day much more bothersome than one where she does a quick wash and maybe gets a twice weekly sit down in a tub if she’s wealthy.

YES!!! THIS ANNOYS ME TO NO END!! I recently read Courtesan by Diane Haeger, and the main character bathes every day in the ice cold river, even though everyone else probably bathes on a monthly (yearly?) basis. The main character is viewed as suspicious because of the daily baths. Authors! Let your heroines be dirty!!

I am very picky about my historicals because most of them are just contemporaries with costumes.

Aside from Diana Gabaldon’s works, I haven’t noticed many historical romances dealing with anything more that a “concern” over pregnancy or the use of the withdraw method (which works pretty darn well btw)

Addressing the “purity issue"…
To me it is really a non-issue, however romance novles are in general idealized love and exagerated events. They represent what many woman wish their sex life was like.
ie.... saved themselves for their true love and behold he is a sex god!

I can accept the idea that in the face of such exagerated emotions and excitement the love/lust struck duo just throw caution to the wind.

Who wouldn’t want a love that obliterates every thought except the here and now and the sheer joy of being w/the one you love??

I have never picked up a romance wanting anything more than to be transported to a defferent world, escape reading, if you will.
I don’t care that they don’t readily discuss mundane exeryday issues such as “body odor” and “poor hygiene” (I have my own DH for that),or birth control for that matter. If I wanted to read about all that I would not be stocking my shelves w/romantic works of fiction.

I long for those escapes from an all too real world of unwanted babies, date rape, STDs and battered women.

So let the virgins be ignorant nymphos to be, let the heroes be well hung sex gods, waiting for their pure loves and let the roller coaster of conflict and seduction meet in a happily ever after…
we could all use more happily ever afters!

Mary Jo Putney’s THE ROGUE AND THE RUNAWAY (later revised as ANGEL ROGUE) has a virgin who used a bitter tea as birth control. And of course, the hero didnt think she was a virgin because she was so matter-of-fact about BC.

I agree with whomever upthread (sleeky?) said that there is more mention of BC in historicals than they used to be. So much so that I am pulled out when there ISN’T a mention of BC in a newly published book than if there is.

Judith Ivory’s hero in BLACK SILK has a stock of condoms (as he thinks about them, he isn’t sure how to spell them, as he’s never seen the word in writing.  Condims, condums? It was funny).  She gave an interesting reason behind his use to condoms: that he’s read and agrees with the theories of Malthus.

In Susan Johnson’s BRAZEN, there’s a long love scene that had condoms, dutch caps, and some sort of spermacidal cream.  I found the scene rather anatomical but educational.

In my own books the women (all slightly older women, late twenties and up) do not forget the birth control. My books are set in the late 19th century, so such things were not hard to obtain and no excuse not to protect oneself.

Me too Heather..."because most (historicals) are just contemporaries with costumes).

The cleanliness issues and multitude of historical inaccuracies are main reasons I read so little historical romance. 

Early on I read an honest historical...something about the heroine feeling grateful that she had bathed a week before the big ball, because her hair would be perfect (dirty & oily enough) to retain a complicated “do”.  Total gross out, at 3 days mine is crawling off my head, eeewhh.

Judith Ivory’s hero in BLACK SILK has a stock of condoms (as he thinks about them, he isn’t sure how to spell them, as he’s never seen the word in writing.  Condims, condums? It was funny).  She gave an interesting reason behind his use to condoms: that he’s read and agrees with the theories of Malthus.

I’m tempted to find and read that, just for Malthus and the spelling thing.

I’m willing to forgive any amount of sexual ignorance on the part of women in historicals, for the reason Charlene mentioned, but if the heroine does know Where Babies Come From, then she’d better at least give it a thought (even if that thought comes afterwards and starts with “Oh, shit").

In contemporaries, then there had *better* be some explanation of birth control.  I’ve been spoiled by Vicki Lewis Thompson’s Nerd books: the presence of condoms is *always* worked into the plot.  They’ve been brought with the intention of the hero or heroine using them with somebody else, or somebody who’s trying to get them together slips them into a suitcase so they’re handy if it works out, or some other reason they’re right there when needed, even though sex wasn’t on the schedule.

The discussion of hygene in historicals reminds me of a fantasy I once read involving a time-traveling hero going back to early 18th century Scotland.  During his brief return to the late 20th century, somebody asks him about the heroine’s hairy legs.  He replies that by the time he actually got to *see* her legs, he wasn’t paying attention.  I liked that explanation.

Verification word: physical74

I have to say that for the most part in my historicals, I don’t particularly care one way or the other about birth control.  Except on the rare occasions where they use a sheath.  And that’s a personal squicky note, I know but. . .sheep’s intestines!  And they had to be washed!  And soaked!  Just ick.  Not to mention the weirdness of having some random ribbons floating around between y’all.

As for the “slut bath” issue, when I was in the Army, in Basic Training, one of our Drill Sergeants taught us how to take a “whore bath.” With 60 women living in one huge room, with a limited number of showers and an even more limited amount of time we kinda had to know.

Did the bitch have an out of Vajaay experience?

I discovered, upon reading that, it is possible to choke on Haagen Dazs.

SB readers soon learn not to eat or drink while reading here...it’s painful and messy.

Okay… Can I say to whoever just said that the withdrawal idea is pretty “darn effective” that it has a HUGE FAILURE RATE. I would research it if you don’t believe me. Also, i think that is interesting that muslim culture did have ideas on shaving (I am muslim, and no one ever told me! :)) also, I think it may be a fantasy book, but if it is a historical, I need my details! But, I do understand the feeling of “hair crawling off my hair” after not bathing for three days. Ah! Try two weeks. So if we can omit the uck, we can certainly add some birth control, right? I feel so gross when I hear that they aren’t using any protection. I think it is because as a youngish woman, i have been conditioned to do so as a reflex. I wonder if there are any sites that explain how the old condoms worked? Any offers? i am quite curious.
ALSO: what are the verification words people keep typing at the end of their bits? I am quite curious. Am new to this site but am loving all the fellow snarkies. ha

Can I say to whoever just said that the withdrawal idea is pretty “darn effective” that it has a HUGE FAILURE RATE.

I wondered about that, too. In high school I was taught that pre-ejaculate had sperm in it, too; so withdrawal isn’t as effective in practice as it is in theory.
Plus the teachers made it sound like anywhere above the kneecaps or below the waist was the Danger Zone for free-falling spooge, and those hardy spelunking swimmers would find a way to flip-flop into your uterus in a manner similar to a newborn kangaroo clambering into the pouch.

So Sex Ed. was a bit fanatical, but at least no one walked out thinking they could get pregnant from a toilet seat. (As the instructor said--"technically, yes, but consider what a man would have to do to the toilet seat and how fast the woman would have to get on it. It’s not going to be an accident.")

verification word on this: research61.

The withdrawal method isn’t a statistically safe method of birth control, but if you’re a writer of historical romance, it’s about as effective as any other available method.  The reason I use it on occasion in my novels is that it’s a nod to the characters having an idea of pregnancy possibility and prevention, it’s a plot device that shows the couple has not yet built up to the level of intimacy where they want to have children together, or it’s a plot device to allow an unplanned pregnancy.

Regardless, for anyone reading this column thinking we’re offering a primer on birth control, all I can say is, “Kids, don’t try this at home!”

Little Miss Spy, the “verification words” are the things in the pink boxes that we have to type to prove we aren’t robots so that we can post.  Sometimes people add them to the bottom of their comment if we think they’re weirdly appropriate to the conversation.

Although withdrawl isn’t the most scientific or foolproof way, it was the BC of choice for my hubby and I and we were child free for 13 years. Then we decided it was time for said child and gave it a shot, within a month I was preggers. So although I don’t suggest everyone trying it, it definitely worked for us. So I can buy it when they use it in a historical romance. Now in a contemporary, I would prefer a condom being used because of STDs. For some reason it really icks me out when they don’t and not because of the pregnant factor. I just think of all the icky diseases out there. Yuck. How romantic is that?

Just my $.02.

I think I’m with the poster upthread who says that she enjoys the fantasy escape, for the most part.  I want to be swept up in passion when I’m reading a romance.  I get swept up in pragmatism every day--I already know what it’s like to stop in the middle and go get something, or to try and remember if a pill’s been taken or how many days do you have until Danger Time (or Target Time if that’s where you’re aiming).  Part of me kinda likes the magic vajayjays, and I wonder if it’s not some sort of subliminal message to women saying, “yes, Virginia, your vagina can be the Happiest Place On Earth!”

In contemporary romances, I’m more inclined to believe that BC is covered offstage, so to speak.  A housekeeping necessity that’s taken care of but doesn’t need to be dwelled upon--like trips to the bathroom.  If I like the characters and identify with them enough, I will assume that they’re intelligent enough to take precautions where warranted.  I would like to believe that BC has become so ubiquitous these days that having it on hand is like eating breakfast--it’s safe to assume that even if the author didn’t come out and say it, it’s there.

The writer in me says--it depends on the tone of the book, where the sex is, and what the characters having it are like.  The decision not to use protection can be a conscious decision on the author’s part, to indicate the heroine/hero’s unconscious decision to think it’s okay to mix DNA with this person.  It may not be realistic, but it can be very believable.  I’m also of the mind that lots of stories don’t highlight BC because the author doesn’t feel the need to make a “statement” about it.

If you put romance novels into the cannon of romantic literature, the idea of the virgin/pure heroine is compulsory.  The idea of the beloved as someone who is pure and untouchable (and related in some strange way to the Virgin Mary...I’ve never quite understood the cult of the virgin) is the standard in the romantic tradition of literature.  As is standard the idea of dick-death (or some kind of “emotional fidelity") when a man falls in love with his woman - I’m reading an interesting book called the Halved Soul that talks about some of this.

It’s no great leap, then to the idea that a “pure” woman would not know about such things, even though the reality for most women is that they did.  Before the Victorian Era, sexual attitudes were much more liberal and women talked among themselves, especially about how to keep from conceiving because you could kill yourself bearing too many children too often.

Still, the idealized notion of a true love involves a loss of control, being swept away in the moment of love, and doesn’t really lend itself well to stopping to put in/on the (somewhat useless) sponge or sheath (which, being sheep’s gut, was permeable enough to let through some things like viruses and bacterium, as well as those little sperm).

It’s frustrating to know that young women still don’t plan.  My recent male partners have all been raised in the age of HIV, and yet, only one did not ask if we could forego a condom while getting busy.  They didn’t bring any, and a couple even acted like they weren’t comfortable with how to put one on!  The partner I have now is very comfortable, and it is less of a break in the action with someone who is knowledgeable and willing to wrap up.

For all you ladies who seemed bothered…
I am the one who said that the “withdraw” method works pretty darn well!
(wonder why that is the only part of my message that ppl seem to be commenting about)
Okay to clarify...If you use it properly, than it does work “pretty darn well”! I have been married 2x and I used it for both! I decided to try to concieve for the first time on my birthday weekend. I noticed I was ovulating 3 days before hand (if you don’t know how to tell when are ovulating by discharge change alone...research it) Lo and behold, first try and we now have a 9 month old baby girl!
For those of you who doubt what I just said...I KNOW for a fact it was the one weekend we did not use the withdraw method because my man had been out of the country and that was when I visited him!
So once again, NO it is not fool proof (few methods are) and I wouldn’t recommend it for everyone (especially if you are not in a manogamous relationship), but used correctly it DOES work “pretty darn well”!

All I know is, I’m immensely grateful I don’t have to worry about that shit anymore.

By the way, a truly, horrifically realistic depiction of late-nineteenth-century abortion practices can be found in Madness of a Seduced Woman by Susan Fromberg Schaeffer, a novel published in the early 1980s I vigorously recommend.  If you Google the title, you’ll find reviews and probably copies of it.

Well. I seem to have gotten people a little heated one way or another on the withdrawel method. as Emily said verrrrryyy comically, “Plus the teachers made it sound like anywhere above the kneecaps or below the waist was the Danger Zone for free-falling spooge, and those hardy spelunking swimmers would find a way to flip-flop into your uterus in a manner similar to a newborn kangaroo clambering into the pouch.” Hahahah. It makes me laugh, and it is so very true. At the same time, I do not condemn anyone choosing to use it. I am simply saying that if someone were to come across this thread I hope they do not take it in that withdrawal is a foolproof plan to prevent preggers-time.  I am friends with a woman who was a teenage mom, and she had sex once, using the withdrawal method: there is sperm in pre ejaculation too. so, murphy’s law.. she got pregnant. BC, my foot. Also, thanks to whoever it was ( i am sorry I don’t remember!) who explained the words at the bottom. I am now incredibly enlightened! yay!Also: ooh before I forget. I am not talking in the sense of romance here. In a romance novel, fine.. if you wanna have pulling out, be my guest… even though it makes me feel squicky.:)

P.S. The success rate of withdrawal: 73%
Of Condoms: 99%

It requires a lot of trust, that people in non monogamous relationships don’t have built up between them.

I must correct myself: only some non-monogomous relationships. I do not mean to be unsensitive. please ignore<3
Also, the book “Madness of a Seduced Woman” sounds interesting. I will need to look that up!

I am one of the people who prefers that bc be utilized, partly because my family has always been very promiscuous and there have been many unplanned pregnancies. I’m one of seven (confirmed) kids, with an unknown number of potential half siblings (my dad traveled the world for a while.)
Birth control can be both romantic and virtuous, and I would feel irresponsible if I wrote otherwise.
As to the true love rush? If he loves me, he’ll want both of us safe too.
In historicals, I like the idea of historically appropriate preventions, partly because it’s interesting.

Know the most annoying thing about using condoms?  Opening the damn wrappers!  What the hell is UP with that?  Jesus H, could they make those things more impossible to get into?  You practically have to have a pair of scissors by the bed to get into the damn things. (Not that I do that, because sharp things + condom = Not A Good Idea.) Amazing how romance characters just whip those things out without a moment’s fumbling!  And slide ‘em on without any trouble, even if the author previously mentioned that his/her hands were trembling with desire, which, when combined with a little slippery rolled-up thing, might be a cause for problems.

However, this does remind me of that scene in Never Been Kissed where Drew Barrymore shoots the condom into the teacher’s face… I almost choked to death and died because of that scene, I laughed so hard.  Realism!  HA!

I’m totally fascinated by the whole contraception issue-possibly because I’m an ex-catholic. I always try to write realistic sex scenes in my historicals which include references to contraception or the lack of it.
In my latest book, “Antonia’s Bargain” the Regency hero offers to use contraception, (the cat gut condoms) but tells the heroine, who is afraid of getting pregnant that even this might not work-can’t try and be fairer than that!
So some of us do try-it’s such an important theme in my writing that I have to mention it!

In fairness to all parties here, withdrawal and the rhythm method are two different things, though possibly used in conjunction. *g*

But is condom use really 99% effective? I’ve never heard that. Hell, female sterilization is only 99.7 or something. I thought condoms were more like 95% which was frightening enough to get me on the pill, quick as an ovulating bunny.

But is condom use really 99% effective? I’ve never heard that. Hell, female sterilization is only 99.7 or something. I thought condoms were more like 95% which was frightening enough to get me on the pill, quick as an ovulating bunny.

If used *properly,* latex condoms are 99% effective.  It’s user error that drops them down to 95%, whether it be from not putting them on properly,or having them break in the middle of things, due to lubrication issues, or even not getting them on in time (pre-ejaculate can carry the little swimmers, and if you’re a Fertile Myrtle,that can spell an uh-oh).

Condoms, like the pill and any other method of birth control, have that variable of User Interface that can lead to failure.  And since they are manufactured products, the manufacturing process has a small percentage rate of failure as well. 

Anything that doesn’t involve a barrier has a fluctuation in effectiveness for different people.  The Pill alters your hormones, but if you have strong hormones, it can be less effective (Mini-pills have worked just fine for some women, while I know some of my son’s preschool classmates are *there* because of the mini-pill - it just wasn’t enough hormones to prevent their moms from ovulating).  The rhythm or calendar method only works effectively for women with 28-30 day cycles.

I’m going to go out on a limb here and recommend Toni Weschler’s “Taking Charge of Your Fertility” because in my opinion it explains the process of the fertility cycle hella better than that stupid book with the flowers on it from seventh grade.