Condoms are fascinating. They can be sterile, medical objects ("Class, this is a prophylactic.") or mythical symbols of adulthood ("Omigod — a rubber!") But after years of use — or years of preparation for use — condoms get slighted, used often but mostly ignored. A smart, new anthology of stories, essays and poems all about condoms attempts to rectify that. "Getting it On: A Condom Reader" illustrates the significant but often overlooked roles the condom occupies in our day-to-day life.
The 29 stories, as varied as condom types themselves, don't discriminate: condoms appear in pseudo-scientific essays and poems; on straights and gays; on virginal teenagers and married adults; even on vampires. But despite editors Mitch Robertson and Julia Dubner's insistence in the book's introduction that condoms are "thematically integral" to each of their selections, condoms make what amounts to guest appearances in some of the stories. Thankfully, they're about a lot more than just condoms, tackling the issues and experiences surrounding sex and relationships, thereby capturing the range of feeling and thought associated with the pieces of molded latex.
"Christ! Just how are you supposed to put these things on," exclaims Charles in an excerpt from Martin Amis' "The Rachel Papers." It's not Charles' first time, but his first time wearing protection. Rather than lament that, however, he uses the occasion of decreased sensitivity to try to bring Rachel to her first orgasm. In the process, he learns that sex can be more than mechanical. Despite such digressions into the complex realm of sexuality, "Getting It On" doesn't let us forget what the collection is about.
Many of the selections are ultimately more disturbing than erotic: Anne
Rice's vampire who has sex for the first time, roughly refusing to cover himself first, raping his partner in the process; Stuart Dybek's account of seaside coitus interruptus via a washed-up corpse; William Feustle's agonizing over the flushing of his used rubber. They all force us to face the humanity that comes once we've gnawed that little plastic wrapper open and unfurled its one content.
"Getting it On" demonstrates that the condom is simultaneously a sensation-robbing, sewer-clogging distraction and a sex-enhancing, disease-preventing savior that should not be taken for granted. Roberson and Dubner have compiled a thoughtful, deliberate collection of works that maintain that condoms aren't just latex; they're integral tools that allow us to feel good without feeling bad.
