“If your vagina could talk, and it could say two words, what would it say?” This is one of the vulgar questions raised in Eve Ensler’s production of The Vagina Monologues. Since it originally appeared onstage in 1996, this episodic play has been re-enacted across the globe by many different women. These actresses, however, are united by one common feature: their vaginas.
Based on interviews with 200 women of different cultural and social backgrounds, The Vagina Monologues presents the stories of female sexuality through a series of soliloquies. These aim to titillate, excite, and move its audience. On Monday, the performance came to the University of Sheffield Students’ Union.
The script stands alone in telling the stories of women and their understanding of sexuality. There is no plot, no setting, no mind-blowing light display or accomplished musical soundtrack, just a group of ordinary women discussing their vaginas. Not that this subtracts any emotional attachment to the characters that they portray. If anything, the simplicity of the performance serves to accentuate the passion behind their message. The message is one of sexual identity: what does sex mean to a woman, and how have her experiences shaped this meaning?
The answers vary and that is what the play attempts to illustrate. The narratives range from one woman’s first menstruation to another’s traumatic sexual experience at the tender age of 13. Just as there are many answers to the question “what would your vagina say?” there are also many outlandish tales of a woman’s genitalia.
For the most part, the production had the (mostly female) audience in fits of laughter. One monologue engaged with the abundant vocabulary associated with the region; from pussy to axe-wound, the audience were presented with the crude and often ugly language of female genitals.
But there was also a darker side to the evening’s entertainment. Some of the monologues addressed more serious and pressing issues. A compilation of testimonies of Bosnian women subjected to rape camps was entitled ‘My Vagina was a Village’. This monologue raised awareness about the sexual exploitation and abuse of women, not just in Bosnia, but all over the world.
The actresses fulfilled the script’s objectives; there were moments of hysterics and of heart-rending silences. Though I’m sure some men found the crude sexual humour to their liking, There is no doubt that this production was made by women, and was meant for women.