In 1990, when I began reading Camille Paglia's Sexual Personae: Art and Decadence from Nefertiti to Emily Dickinson, I was so excited that I would only put her book down to sleep, eat or turn a trick. It lay on my bedside table next to the phone, a small supply of condoms tucked inside the front cover. Whenever I slipped into Sexual Personae to unwrap one, I felt vindicated. What better way to pay tribute to Paglia's ideas? One evening, after attending a PONY (Prostitutes of New York) planning session, I found myself at Performance Space 122 in Manhattan's East Village. I was nearly thrown down the stairs, in my high heels, by a (female) performance artist who accused me of "reading Camille Paglia". I had committed heresy -- by suggesting that women are often the privileged sex -- and was forced to defend myself with a Saks Fifth Avenue shopping bag filled with PONY mail. Swinging my paper weapon around in wild desperation, I escaped down the steep staircase, hobbled somewhat by my favorite shoes.
As my terror gave way to inspiration, I realized that I was destined to meet with the intellectual diva who had helped to inspire this angry feminist assault. THE PROSTITUTE, THE COMEDIAN -- AND ME was originally published in Puritan (Number 31) in the winter of 1993, as part of an interview series focusing on the sexual attitudes of well-known authors and artists. I am greatly indebted to Stan Bernstein, the creative force behind that series, for his editorial guidance, and to the entire staff of Puritan magazine. -- T.Q.
