Horizontal Lives

True Tales of the Infamous Courtesan: Persephone N. Hades and her Horizontal Life underground. How she got there, her mis-adventures and her struggle to re-surface.

Tuesday, December 07, 2004


On the subway to work, squashed into a corner, reading a book to block out the rush hour chaos. The book is: 'Hollywood Animal'.

Read a passage I can't get out of my head:

"As I get older in the (detention) camps, the older Hungarian boys taught me things. Watching a Hungarian women walk out of a barrack, a small group of us followed her as she walked along a fence and ducked into the back of a garage filled with jeeps. There were American soldiers waiting for her, laughing. There was a mattress on the floor and she got down on it as the soldiers laughed. She took her clothes off. We crept from jeep to jeep, trying to get close.

After her clothes were off, she twirled around on the mattress, smiling, licking her lips. One after another, The Americans approached her, naked now, their 'pimplis' (penises) bigger than any I'd ever seen. They moved around individually on top of her.

When each soldier was done, he dropped something on the mattress that one of the boys said later, was a nylon stocking. Then she got dressed quickly and ducked back out. The soldiers laughed some more, got dressed and left.

A few days later, as we were playing with a soccer ball, the same woman walked by us on the way to the milk line. The older boys started laughing and yelling "Kurva neni! Kurva Neni!"---"Whore lady! Whore lady!"

She put her head down, covered her ears, and ran away.

I asked my mother what a 'kurva' was and she slapped me."

It occured to me that 'whore' was a word created, devised to make a woman ashamed of the very sexuality that is as natural to her as it is to men.

It is that word that keeps me single.
It is that word that keeps me living underground.

I try to combat it every day with every man I see, offering something he didn't expect--intelligence, concern, artistic sensuality, joy in the moment.

I never know if what I attempt makes any dents in the pervasive myth. I am a lone warrior, with a few comrades, fighting an age old battle.


What a sad word. What a powerful word.
Yet I know it won't disappear.

Not in my lifetime.


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