by Naomi Darvell
(05/12/04)
"La dildo, dildo la dildo, la dildo dildo de dildo."
Enter two Servants.
FIRST SERVANT
What has he got a-singing in his head now?
SECOND SERVANT
Now he's out of work he falls to making dildoes.
--Thomas Middleton, A Chaste Maid in Cheapside, 1613
I can't help it: the word "dildo" makes me laugh. It looks funny. What's the plural: "dildos" or "dildoes"? They both seem rather unlikely. "Dildo" sounds like a nonsense word -- and, come to find out, that's pretty much what it is. People will confidently tell you different origins of "dildo." It's from the Italian "diletto," they'll say, and it means "object of delight." Or they'll claim it comes from a Latin word meaning "open wide" -- something like dilato, presumably. That's bunk, I say. The guy in Middleton's play is treating the word like what it is: a musical chorus, like "dilly dilly" or "nonny nonny" -- only dirtier-sounding. ("Out of work," in this context, suggests that he's not gettin' any. His little song is, in a way, verbal masturbation.)
It appears, too, as if the word "dildo" sprang up around the Shakespearean age, that fertile cradle of all things smutty. Sure, penis-shaped devices for self-pleasuring or "therapy" are known everywhere and in all ages. But you first hear "dildo" from such writers as Middleton and Shakespeare himself. (Winter's Tale 4.4: "He hath songs for man or woman of all sizes; no milliner can so fit his customers with gloves. He has the prettiest love-songs for maids; so without bawdry, which is strange; with such delicate burdens of dildos and fadings...") Both the Middleton and the Shakespeare sound quite suggestive, "without bawdry" notwithstanding. But the first straight-up (so to speak) description of a dildo as a sex toy is courtesy of Thomas Nashe, in "The Choise of Valentines" (circa 1592):
Hence-forth no more will I implore thine ayde,
Or thee, or men of cowardize upbrayde.
My little dildo shall supply their kinde:
A knaue, that moues as light as leaues by winde;
That bendeth not, nor fouldeth anie deale,
But stands as stiff, as he were made of steele,
And playes at peacock twixt my leggs right blythe,
And doeth my tickling swage with manie a sighe;
For, by Saint Runnion he'le refresh me well,
And neuer make my tender bellie swell.
These lines are spoken by a girl whose lover comes too quickly and can't satisfy her, so she turns to her faithful sex toy. She's very excited about what her dildo doesn't do: bend, sag, or get her pregnant. But also, she describes "him" as having quite a personality, as he "plays at peacock" between her legs. Her dildo is a substitute for a man, but it also has a life of its own.
I wonder what she would have thought of all the sex toys we have now -- some of which make no effort to look realistically like a penis at all. Yes, you can still buy lifelike dildos called things like "The Boyfriend," and use them for action just like that described in "The Choise of Valentines." Women who want to have dicks can also buy strap-ons, some of which look quite convincing.
But you can also get toys which are fanciful and have a character that's quite separate from the reality of boy-girl sex. When I first saw a Hello Kitty vibrator, I thought it was weird and kind of creepy. Then I decided there was something nice about a masturbation aid looking so cheerful and innocuous-- reassuring, even. It was something like the reaction Charlotte on Sex and the City had when she saw "The Rabbit." Miranda had taken the girls shopping for vibrators. Charlotte thought the very idea was gross, but relented completely at the sight of the bunny-shaped vibrator. "He's so cute! Look at his little ears!" As often happens with Charlotte, enthusiasm leads to a pratfall. She becomes addicted to "The Rabbit," staying home to masturbate until she's in danger of becoming a recluse and her friends stage an intervention.
Vibrators make fairly regular appearances on SATC. Miranda gets embarrassed when her housekeeper finds a vibrator in her nightstand drawer, but usually people are unapologetic about owning them. During a brief lesbian fling, Samantha's lover, Maria, buys a strap-on because she thinks Samantha craves penises. She fucks Samantha silly, but it doesn't work, because it's Maria's constant relationship talk that Sam can't stand. Sam also shocks one of Carrie's boyfriends by announcing over dinner that she'd found the maid using her vibrator. She then turns to her own boyfriend and reassures him that she hasn't used the thing, herself, since he's been back in town. His goofy, "Oh, that's sweet," lets you know this wasn't a serious conversation.
Because, really, the show makes clear that a vibrator isn't necessarily a substitute for anything. Why else is it that the brazen Samantha, who's had more dicks to choose from than anyone else, turns out to be an actual expert on vibrators? She marches into The Sharper Image, or some store like that, and demands that they replace her worn-out vibrator. A salesman insists that they don't sell vibrators, only "massagers." Before long, Sam is leading an impromptu seminar for the other women who've come in looking for vibrators. She tells one girl to forget the model she's holding. "That'll burn your clit off." "Even with...underwear?" "Even with ski pants!"
On the show, they talk a lot about vibrators or (in that one case) strap-ons, but not dildos. It's as if nobody wants to say "dildo" on TV. It's an awkward word, with none of the sleek consumerist cachet of, say, "Hitachi Magic Wand." It doesn't help any, either, that "dildo" is also a term of abuse, like "douchebag." But, for a non-vibrating penis-type sex toy that's not a strap-on, there's almost no other way to put it. When I looked for synonyms, I thought Roget's online search function was broken. But it's true; there was nothing to find. Unless you want to say "marital aid" or "artificial penis" or something silly like "corn cob," you're stuck with "godemiche," which sounds OK if you're speaking French, but hopelessly pretentious in English.
So, there's no real alternative to "dildo." And maybe the word has hung on because, after all, there's something strangely fitting about it. Just like "dildo de dildo" is a funny, lewd-sounding filler in a song, there's always something potentially funny about a dildo of the sex-toy variety. Why else, in ancient Greek stage comedies, did actors sport enormous fake penises? One of my favorite dildo moments on TV came during the usually bland and disappointing program, The L Word. Alice (played by Leisha Hailey) has a new lover, a "lesbian-identified man" named Lisa. When they go to make love, Lisa produces a dildo. Alice wants to know why, since Lisa has a real penis. But Lisa wants to fuck with a fake one -- that's his idea of what real lesbians do!
I'm trying to say "dildo" with more of a lilt now. It still makes me laugh, but so what? It's a happy sound. La dildo, dildo la dildo! It's Spring. Grab your favorite dildo, vibrator or whatever, and celebrate all the sexy, funny, low-tech, high-tech, sophisticated and lewd possibilities.
