The question, of course, is why Vagina? Why not "Women's Monologues" or "Our Fight Against Sexual Violence?" Why, instead, dedicate an entire evening to "a canal in a female mammal that leads from the uterus to the external orifice of the genital canal?" Why repeat "vagina"-a word that precious few of us, at least before seeing the Monologues, cared to use on a regular basis-nearly every minute for two hours? Was it to titillate the masses? Was it the illicit thrill of saying "vagina"? Was it a word to make people stand up and pay attention to a presentation that might otherwise have become another repetition of gruesome statistics? Or is it something deeper? Is there deliberate reasoning behind the outward brazenness?
The answer, naturally, is yes. The introduction of the Monologues muses: "Vagina. Va-gi-na … somehow, never sounds like something you want to say." And she has a point-the implication and reality is that there is a stigma surrounding the vagina. While the male penis is erected (no pun intended) as a symbol of power and a source of masculine pride, its female counterpart (the vagina) is tactfully avoided. Many women don't have a positive attitude toward their vaginas-better not to go "down there." It's not something decent people talk about. In many ways, it doesn't exist.
The idea behind the Monologues is not to repeat "vagina" over and over again but to remove this stigma and, in doing so, become more comfortable with women and their vaginas. The point is not for every person to come out of that room using the word "vagina" in everyday life, or at least it shouldn't be-the vagina is still, after all, a private thing. But we shouldn't shy away from it, and we shouldn't be ashamed. The Vagina Monologues is a call for women to accept their vaginas as part of themselves, to embrace their sexuality, and, through this acceptance, there is the hope that all men and women can have a common understanding and respect that will be the basis of the fight to stop sexual violence. It is through the insight offered by the women who tell these stories that we can grow.
Does it succeed? Perhaps. As a presentation it is still a work in progress. In over-personifying the vagina, it risks alienating some of its audience. The vagina is still, after all, just a biological entity. It's not sentient, and it doesn't define who a woman is. And I'm not entirely sure some of that vagina screaming isn't for titillation (but that's probably just my cynicism speaking). For me, the Vagina Monologues was an interesting night of personal revelations into the feminine experience, but in the end, nothing phenomenal.
But all this is minor. Why, after all, should I demand that the performance be perfect? The intent is sincere and the message earnest-this is all that matters. And in a world where the vagina is severely understated, perhaps it is necessary to balance it out with a night of overstatement. What The Vagina Monologues is to you is what you make of it. For example, it could be (if we leave out for a moment the heavier parts of the program) perfectly acceptable as pure entertainment. I didn't expect it to be funny, but in fact there are many hysterical moments in describing the ridiculous and amusing positions that women find themselves and their vaginas in. And I, along with the women in the audience, felt an amused sense of pride when one presenter proclaimed that the clitoris had "Twice … twice … TWICE the amount of nerves as the male penis. Why use a handgun when you've got a semi-automatic?"
Some say the Monologues are about empowering women. I don't think anyone will say that empowerment itself is a bad thing, but in a world where it has become a buzzword for politicians, I am a little skeptical of empowerment. I would rather The Vagina Monologues carried a message of understanding-of sharing experiences and building a real bond between people. And it is the Monologues' hope that if such a groundwork of mutual respect can be laid, then there will be no need or desire for violence. It is an admirable goal.