HEARTBREAK

A controversial author (Scapegoat, 2000, etc.) offers her bitter and sad reflections on life as a feminist.

Dworkin lashes right out in her preface: “I have no sense of honor,” she writes, asserting that “triviality and deceit [are] the coin of the female realm.” What follows are vignettes from the life that led her to that view, most of them involving examples of adult deception and coercion. In short, dense chapters, Dworkin reviews her development into a radical feminist crusader against pornography and prostitution. By the sixth grade, she says, she was a rebel, refusing to sing “Silent Night” because it celebrated Christianity and she was Jewish; she characterizes the “pretty, gutless teacher” who tried to convince her to go along as “a female collaborator.” An encounter with a pedophile teacher taught her more about lying. Later, political activism led to jail and to self-imposed exile in Crete, where she taught herself to write. In Amsterdam, a battering husband drove her to prostitution; discovering the works of early second-wave feminists, she vowed to “give my life to the movement.” And she has, although not always in ways that the movement finds agreeable. When Dworkin began to speak about violence and rape, women of all sorts, including third-generation prostitutes, told her their stories of abuse. The issue of pornography collided with the issue of free speech, of course, but Dworkin believes class played a part as well. Maneuvered off the podium at a NOW convention, she comments, “it became a bad feminist habit for the rich to rat out the poor.” She also doesn’t hesitate to characterize President Clinton as an abuser and poet Allen Ginsberg as an avowed pedophile. The last chapter portrays women prostituted and abused as “paying the freight for all the rest.”

The cry of a wounded creature (“I have a heart easily hurt”) who cannot or will not let the wounds heal. They fuel her crusade.