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Dearest
Pet: On Bestiality by Midas Dekkers, translated by Paul
Vincent, Verso, © 2000.
Not so long ago, any form of sexuality not
leading to the conception of children was seen as, at best, wanton
lust, or worse, a perversion. One by one, the taboos have fallen.
The idea that it could be wrong to use contraception in order to
separate sex from reproduction is now merely quaint. If some
religions still teach that masturbation is "self-abuse," that just
shows how out of touch they have become. Sodomy? That's all part of
the joy of sex, recommended for couples seeking erotic variety. In
many of the world's great cities, gays and lesbians can be open
about their sexual preferences to an extent unimaginable a century
ago. You can even do it in the U.S. Armed Forces, as long as you
don't talk about it. Oral sex? Some objected to President Clinton'
choice of place and partner, and others thought he should have been
more honest about what he had done, but no one dared suggest that he
was unfit to be President simply because he had taken part in a
sexual activity that was, in many jurisdictions, a crime.
But not every taboo has crumbled. Heard
anyone chatting at parties lately about how good it is having sex
with their dog? Probably not. Sex with animals is still definitely
taboo. If Midas Dekkers, author of Dearest Pet, has got it
right, this is not because of its rarity. Dekkers, a Dutch biologist
and popular naturalist, has assembled a substantial body of evidence
to show that humans have often thought of
"love for animals" in ways that go beyond a pat and a hug, or a
proper concern for the welfare of members of other species. His book
has a wide range of illustrations, going back to a Swedish rock
drawing from the Bronze Age of a man fucking a large quadruped of
indeterminate species. There is a Greek vase from 520 BC showing a
male figure having sex with a stag; a seventeenth-century Indian
miniature of a deer mounting a woman; an eighteenth-century European
engraving of an ecstatic nun coupling with a donkey, while other
nuns look on, smiling; a nineteenth-century Persian painting of a
soldier, also with a donkey; and, from the same period, a Japanese
drawing of a woman enveloped by a giant octopus who appears to be
sucking her cunt, as well as caressing her body with its many limbs.
How much of this is fantasy, the King
Kong-ish archetypes of an earlier age? In the 1940s, Kinsey asked
twenty thousand Americans about their sexual behavior, and found
that 8 percent of males and 3.5 percent of females stated that they
had, at some time, had a sexual encounter with an animal. Among men
living in rural areas, the figure shot up to 50 percent. Dekkers
suggests that for young male farm hands, animals provided an outlet
for sexual desires that could not be satisfied when girls were less
willing to have sex before marriage. Based on twentieth-century
court records in Austria where bestiality was regularly prosecuted,
rural men are most likely to have vaginal intercourse with cows and
calves, less frequently with mares, foals and goats and only rarely
with sheep or pigs. They may also take advantage of the sucking
reflex of calves to get them to do a blowjob.
Women having sex with bulls or rams, on
the other hand, seems to be more a matter of myth than reality. For
three-quarters of the women who told Kinsey that they had had sexual
contact with an animal, the animal involved was a dog, and actual
sexual intercourse was rare. More commonly the woman limited
themselves to touching and masturbating the animal, or having their
genitals licked by it. Much depends, of
course, on how the notion of a sexual relationship is defined.
Zoologist Desmond Morris has carried out research confirming the
commonplace observation that girls are far more likely to be
attracted to horses than boys, and he has suggested that "sitting
with legs astride a rhythmically moving horse undoubtedly has a
sexual undertone." Dekkers agrees, adding that "the horse is the
ideal consolation for the great injustice done to girls by nature,
of awakening sexually years before the boys in their class, who are
still playing with their train sets . . . "
The existence of sexual contact between
humans and animals, and the potency of the taboo against it,
displays the ambivalence of our relationship with animals. On the
one hand, especially in the Judeo-Christian tradition — less so in
the East — we have always seen ourselves as distinct from animals,
and imagined that a wide, unbridgeable gulf separates us from them.
Humans alone are made in the image of God. Only human
beings have an immortal soul. In Genesis, God gives humans dominion
over the animals. In the Renaissance idea of the Great Chain of
Being, humans are halfway between the beasts and the angels. We are
spiritual beings as well as physical beings. For Kant, humans have
an inherent dignity that makes them ends in themselves, whereas
animals are mere means to our ends. Today the language of human
rights — rights that we attribute to all human beings but deny to
all nonhuman animals — maintains this separation.
On the other hand there are many ways
in which we cannot help behaving just as animals do — or mammals,
anyway — and sex is one of the most obvious ones. We copulate, as
they do. They have penises and vaginas, as we do, and the fact that
the vagina of a calf can be sexually satisfying to a man shows how
similar these organs are. The taboo on sex with animals may, as I
have already suggested, have originated as part of a broader
rejection of non-reproductive sex. But the vehemence with which this
prohibition continues to be held, its persistence while other
non-reproductive sexual acts have become acceptable, suggests that
there is another powerful force at work: our desire to differentiate
ourselves, erotically and in every other way, from animals.
Almost a century ago, when Freud had
just published his groundbreaking Three Essays on Sexuality,
the Viennese writer Otto Soyka published a fiery little volume
called Beyond the Boundary of Morals. Never widely known, and
now entirely forgotten, it was a polemic directed against the
prohibition of "unnatural" sex like bestiality, homosexuality,
fetishism and other non-reproductive acts. Soyka saw these
prohibitions as futile and misguided attempts to limit the
inexhaustible variety of human sexual desire. Only bestiality, he
argued, should be illegal, and even then, only in so far as it shows
cruelty towards an animal. Soyka's suggestion indicates one good
reason why some of the acts described in Dekkers book are clearly
wrong, and should remain crimes. Some men use hens as a sexual
object, inserting their penis into the cloaca, an all-purpose
channel for wastes and for the passage of the egg. This is usually
fatal to the hen, and in some cases she will be deliberately
decapitated just before ejaculation in order to intensify the
convulsions of its sphincter. This is
cruelty, clear and simple. (But is it worse for the hen than living
for a year or more crowded with four or five other hens in barren
wire cage so small that they can never stretch their wings, and then
being stuffed into crates to be taken to the slaughterhouse, strung
upside down on a conveyor belt and killed? If not, then it is no
worse than what egg producers do to their hens all the time.)
But sex with animals does not always
involve cruelty. Who has not been at a social occasion disrupted by
the household dog gripping the legs of a visitor and vigorously
rubbing its penis against them? The host usually discourages such
activities, but in private not everyone objects to being used by her
or his dog in this way, and occasionally mutually satisfying
activities may develop. Soyka would presumably have thought this
within the range of human sexual variety.
At a conference on great apes a few
years ago, I spoke to a woman who had visited Camp Leakey, a
rehabilitation center for captured orangutans in Borneo run by
Birute Galdikas, sometimes referred to as "the Jane Goodall of
orangutans" and the world's foremost authority on these great apes.
At Camp Leakey, the orangutans are gradually acclimatised to the
jungle, and as they get closer to complete independence, they are
able to come and go as they please. While walking through the camp
with Galdikas, my informant was suddenly seized by a large male
orangutan, his intentions made obvious by his erect penis. Fighting
off so powerful an animal was not an option, but Galdikas called to
her companion not to be concerned, because the orangutan would not
harm her, and adding, as further reassurance, that "they have a very
small penis." As it happened, the orangutan lost interest before
penetration took place, but the aspect of the story that struck me
most forcefully was that in the eyes of someone who has lived much
of her life with orangutans, to be seen by one of them as an object
of sexual interest is not a cause for shock or horror. The potential
violence of the orangutan's come-on may have been disturbing, but
the fact that it was an orangutan making the advances was not. That
may be because Galdikas understands very well that we are animals,
indeed more specifically, we are great apes. This does not make sex
across the species barrier normal, or natural, whatever those
much-misused words may mean, but it does imply that it ceases to be
an offence to our status and dignity as human beings.
©2001 Peter
Singer and Nerve.com, Inc.
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