Bohuslav Brouk: On Pornophilia

Those who conceal their sexuality despise their innate abilities 
without ever having risen above them. Though they reject human 
mortality, they arc incapable of liberating themselves from the 
lugubrious cycle of life - made possible and guaranteed by the genitals 
-  to achieve the immortality of the mythical gods. And though they have 
created the illusion of their own immortality, thereby ridding their 
behavior and even their psyche of any sexual character, they will never 
eliminate the corporeal proof of their animality. The body will 
continue to demonstrate mortality as the fate of all humans. It is for 
this reason that any reference to human animality so gravely affects 
those who dream of its antithesis. They take offense not only at any 
mention of animality in life, but in science, literature, and the arts 
as well, as this would disturb their reveries by undermining their 
rationalist airs and social pretensions. By imposing acts both 
excremental and sexual on their perception, their superhuman fantasies 
are destroyed, laying bare the vanity of their efforts to free 
themselves from the power of nature, which has, in assuming mortality, 
equipped them with a sex and an irrepressible need to satisfy its 
hunger.

There is nothing as intensely dispiriting for those who have sublimated 
the substance of the body than their animality spontaneously making its 
presence felt. Just consider how the signs of uncontrollable shits 
deject the hero during a triumphal campaign, or how painfully the 
nabobs bear their sexual appetites towards their despised inferiors. 
Nothing but the body pulls these haughty folk back to animality, 
disillusioning their superhuman self-confidence. The bodily processes 
they are unable to shake free of have become their Achilles heel, whose 
sensitivity has been superbly exposed by pornophiles.

The nature of pornophilia is at heart militant and sadistic. Through 
their activities pornophiles attack any mode of non-animality used by 
people to elevate themselves over pornophiles. In pointing to human 
nature, they sweep away all pretensions of human inequality while at 
the same time proceeding from a new criterion: the creation of new 
castes distinguished not by social standing but by vital potency. 
Pornophilia thus collapses the illusions the exalted harbor of their 
divine nature while exposing their physical decrepitude, the 
inferiority that they have brought upon themselves through their 
contempt for the body. The body is the last argument of those who have 
been unjustly neglected and ignored; it demonstrates beyond debate the 
groundlessness of all social distinctions in comparison to the might of 
nature. With the body pornophiles not only abolish social barriers, 
through the vigor of the non-incapacitated body they also elevate 
themselves above those who scorn them in return. From this perspective 
pornophilia could, above all, serve as a potent weapon for the socially 
weak, the materially and culturally oppressed, who might, in this 
context at least, assert their strength and significance through the 
potency of their undegenerate body. It is therefore understandable that 
those who succumb to pornophilia are of a more revolutionary bent than 
those mired in the prejudices of the moribund bourgeoisie.

Pornophiles use sadistic methods to attack the inflated psyches of the 
ruling peacocks. Finding their dreams frustrated, those thus attacked 
counter in like manner with a sadistically motivated prudishness, a 
puritanical persecution of the "depraved". One can discover for oneself 
the reason for the emergence of pornophilia: When in the company of 
these flatulent snobs one will have the overwhelming urge to disrupt 
their prevailing idiotic idyll by roaring "shit, piss, fuck" and so 
forth.

The primal reason for employing obscenity cannot be disguised even in 
the primitive expression of those barbarians who to this day draw the 
familiar diamond-shaped pattern and phallus on the walls of a 
metropolis. If the sadistic impulse of their displays is not directed 
at the socially conceited, it is aimed at women, at their inferior, 
memberless sexual organ, threatened with punishment by the penises 
represented in colossal drawings and sculptures. Present-day 
pornophilia - whose psychological value lies in the manifestation of 
obscene works and expression, not in their anxious concealment - has, 
however, become a weapon even against those of the same sex, 
unjustifiably inflated though they might be. In other words, it tends 
towards misanthropy rather than misogyny.

Inasmuch as the biological consequences of one´s sex ultimately 
adversely affects pornophiles as well - as even they, too, prefer to 
deny their mortality - the predilection towards pornophilia assumes a 
particular characteristic that camouflages the general unpleasantness 
of being reminded of one´s animality. In this specific context, a work 
of obscenity may serve as a surrogate to sexual gratification, as a 
direct sexual charge. If of an artistic nature, it retains its 
militancy, albeit in an especial sense. The sadistic character of 
pornophilic works, particularly those that are works of art, is of 
course usually latent, hidden in the authors subconscious, without it 
ever reaching the level of consciousness proper; a similar meaning is 
apparent in the vehement aversion puritans show towards it. The true 
motives for their actions are as unknown to pornophiles as they are to 
puritans, and they are therefore erroneously interpreted. The sadism 
evident in pornophilic works naturally should not in any way impact on 
its aesthetic evaluation, and as a drive it isn´t any more peverse 
than the impetus to reproduce the obligatory genres.

In pornophilic works of art the sex is liberated from its biological 
function. Interpreted purely in terms of pleasure without its 
reproductive consequences, sex does not attack the animality of the 
conceited per se but the relative inferiority of their animality. The 
artist does not provoke the puritan for his transience, his mortality, 
which the artist suffers as well, but for his impotence, his sexual 
inadequacy, which he has brought on himself by leaving his sexus to 
degenerate through a foolish desire for superhumanness. By excluding 
the biological aspects of sex and excrementation from its content, 
pornophilic art does not conceal the sadistic nature of its 
unpretentious obscenity; rather, it merely curtails the manner in which 
its militancy is projected. In pornophilically motivated art, 
therefore, the conceited are being combatted through sex´s pleasure 
principle instead of through its biological purpose- in other words, 
what this art primarily attacks is imperfect humanity, not the 
imperfect divinity of the conceited. One could ridicule the desire for 
immortality for its baneful consequences alone, i.e., sexual 
degeneracy. Thus art mitigates the sadism of pornophilia only in its 
exploitation of sex´s biological function, which is as unpleaant to 
pornophiles as it is to pornophobes.

Yet pornophilic tendencies are found even in those who are targeted; 
they are particularly fond of it as kitsch, the purpose of which is 
sexual titillation. This mode of trash pornophilia completely 
suppresses the sadistic impulses found in pornophilic art. As a result 
pornophilia is rendered accessible precisely to that caste of people 
against whom it is essentially directed. Pornophilia has a corrupting 
influence solely on those puritans who persecute its militancy and 
sadism; they have imputed to it the same meaning as their pornographic 
literature and pictures carefully hidden away in closed drawers until 
required for that occasional arousal (which as a rule their shabby 
wives can no longer produce). The only thing this sort of trash 
pornophilia does not need is a public, in fact, it resists one as any 
number of people, and not only puritans, find it difficult to reach 
orgasm in the presence of others.

Divesting ourselves of all prejudices, we should evaluate pornophilic 
works strictly on their artistic value. If anyone should think that 
obscene content in itself detracts from the value of a work of art, 
then we might just as well reject Strindberg´s or Tolstoy´s art for its 
misogyny. Pornophilia cannot be reproached for being pathological as it 
is a disease of a similar order to any other manifestation of culture, 
no different even than the sadistic puritanism of its opponents. If 
pornophilia can be considered a work of art, it is as much a cultural 
phenomenon as "humanitarian" art, and if it limits itself purely to 
expressing the libido without any connection to other cultural or 
economic values, then it is no more neurotic than the trite expressions 
of compassion; its pathological manifestations in erotomania and 
coprophilia are similar to the anthropophilia evident in the masochism 
of martyrs. Our humanity, culture, and civilization are nothing more 
than a useful way to utilize neurotic conflicts. So until our 
pathologies give rise to works of value we simply cannot be taken to 
task for having this nature. The sublimation of the neurotic libido is 
creative, while the normal libido leads only to playfulness. Both 
libidos, therefore, participate in the creative process that is 
motivated by obscenity. The neurotic libido determines the work´s 
content while the normal libido gives it its mode or form. If the 
normal libido looks for a surrogate to instant gratification, it will 
use obscenity to create kitsch, but if its demands are sublimated, then 
the result is art.

The titillating, kitchified mode of pornophilic themes has no other 
value and function than that of artificial dolls designed for onanism 
(ipsatio). Such works are limited to the sexual act in and of itself 
and are incapable of disengaging from the atmosphere of the recess 
without ceasing to perform their function, which is founded on the 
illusion of a real partner and coitus. On the other hand, the artist 
whose work is not bound to reality sees no need to have naked girls 
urinate into a chamber pot when he could offer them an alpine valley 
instead. An ejaculation need not become a yellow stain on the bedding -
it can be transformed into a bolt of lightning and used to cleave a 
Gothic cathedral. A lovers´ bed can be replaced by the cosmos and the 
globe inserted under a woman´s buttocks. And from her pudenda the 
artist then has a sun emerging, the most marvelous of miscarriages.

The artist not bound by the rational coordination of perceptions, 
actual proportionality and syntax releases the sexual organ from its 
biological function of procreation, which is perhaps too painfully 
evoked by pornographic kitsch when its titillating function ceases 
through the orgasm it has produced. Artistic pornophilia can never be 
glossed by irony and cynicism as real or reproductive sexuality stuck 
to the bed sheets.

While a different world might have long ago achieved a transvaluation 
of art, the elaboration of sexuality has been impeded by the censorship 
of puritans who are incensed by obscene content insofar as it portrays 
healthy sex, whereas their sexuality is pitifully derelict under their 
flies. They are aware, even if unconsciously, of their sexual 
inferiority, and as their rumps are deformed by hemorrhoids as well, 
they envy the formidable penises and clean backsides of others. What 
galls them to a far greater extent than pornophilic kitsch are works of 
art of obscene content, for here the artist has extended the reign of 
his sexuality over the entire world. Pornophilic kitsch keeps to the 
recess. The artist, on the other hand, has expanded throughout the 
world. He pisses a sea, shits a Himalayas, gives birth to cities, 
masturbates factory chimneys, etc. Nothing is sacred to him, and the 
associations he makes are, above all, sexual.

His pansexuality carries a double meaning: the first attacks puritan 
impotence and the second frees sex from its procreative function. Here 
sex is comprehended in a purely aesthetic sense, voluptuously. The 
artist´s pleasure, facilitated by the libido, is not dampened by common 
veracity. The erotic scenes thus created do not stand or fall through 
an oppressive banality, although the banality and insipidness of sexual 
gratification cannot be eliminated by perverse infatuations. These, 
too, are dull and banal. The libido needs a space to play in, a space 
that diverts the senses from the dismal postcoital condition and deters 
those rational speculations poisoning one´s pleasure. Our eroticism 
must be rid of its depressing connection to plump wives and conjugal 
beds under which a chamber pot is lurking.

Nevertheless, as poetry is the art of finding the exotic in the 
mundane, there is no need to discard our inventory of the banal, only 
banal situations. This can be achieved only through a subjective 
evaluation of things and actions, liberating them from their customary 
sequencing. Poetry negates reality´s biological and economic meaning; 
annulling its rationalist context, it creates a new syntax that gives 
the old content new meaning, a new narrative. In this way the vapid, 
the graceless, becomes the exceptional, the emotive. Poetry is the art 
of discovering mundane life´s emotive perspective. The art of living is 
the art of where and when to have a cup of black coffee, or in the 
sexual arts, where and when to have an orgasm. If puritans would like 
to call this a disease, then we shall help them. It is simply a matter 
of being partial to situations.

From the world of dreams and hallucinations the modern artist enters 
the world of the most demented lunatics who are exhausted by the 
wayward adventure into which their reason has led them. Having 
renounced his reason, the artist is satisfied with the adventure that 
has freed his libido by liberating his senses. The adventure of reason, 
of rationality, is pathologically closed off by a psychosis that 
negates the intellect and by an autism that exempts one from rationally 
evaluating one´s intuitions and behavior. The freed libido may 
autonomously reveal itself during this pathological state. Psychosis 
puts an end to the ravages of neurosis through negation, by gradually 
inhibiting menial and bodily functions. If psychosis is limited only to 
the negation of reason and does not inhibit perception, movement, and 
so on, then the natural channels for our emotional, aesthetic, and 
irrational actions and perceptions will eventually surface.

The world the mad have entered through a numbness of mind the artist 
has attained through a soundness of mind, and has thereby adopted a 
natural, purely hedonistic stance towards the real possibilities of 
what might be utilized for his art. If ancient art is analogous to 
neurosis, then modern art is analogous to the creations of psychosis. 
The artist of today has emerged from the world of dreams, 
hallucinations, alcoholic deliriums, and violent, sweat-soaked, 
symbolic phantasms to a valuation that is unaffected and purely 
emotive, and a perception of the real that spontaneously creates 
phantasms of the kind ancient art could scarcely imagine. Modern poetry 
has magically fanned out over all landscapes like the dreamlike 
atmosphere of an atelier. It has enabled the artist to disregard the 
socio-economic values of life in favor of a thought and perception that 
are solely focused on pleasure. The liberated senses and psyche are 
thus able to see the entire world in its full emotive nature, 
evanescent though this might be. Pornophilia as a work of art offers 
the pleasures of life far removed from pedestrian concerns. Having 
prudently rid our animality of its bleak vision, the artist emancipates 
the acts of the body from their biological purpose, leading us to revel 
in delight in a manner that is only allowed us by nature. Asceticism, 
any sort of renunciation of our sexuality, is indefensible. As each 
person comes into the world at the end of an umbilical cord only 
inevitably to become dust, we should take pleasure from everything our 
abilities allow us.


Postface to Emilie Comes to Me in a Dream (1933) by Jindrich Styrský, 
published in Edition 69 (Prague: Twisted Spoon Press, 2004, pp. 
109 - 119, transl. by Jed Slast.)