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A rosendorn by any other name

By Nancy Ford

First, a mea culpa. I want to apologize to you, dear readers, for my preoccupation with writing about dicks for the last couple of years. As a lesbian, that should be anathema to my very being. My only excuse is that I have been driven to shed light and outrage on the ever-present assault that man- and womankind has found itself enduring since the Dick-in-Chief Donald Trump and his scrotal Boy Wonder, Mike Pence, have seized the reins of society.

But not in this column. in this column we will observe with wonder and heap praise upon the exact opposite of dicks. Today we focus our attention upon the vagina. More specifically, the vulva.
Gay men, you are excused from indulging in this WAW, if you choose. I completely understand.

What’s the difference, some (particularly, you gay men who, despite having been warned, have chosen to plow ahead) may ask?

The vagina is the passage that connects a woman’s uterus to the outer world. It’s the birth canal, and the channel through which menstrual blood flows. The vulva consists of everything on the outside: both labias majora et minora, the mons, and the all-hallowed clitoris.

Think of it like this: the vagina is I-45 corridor that cuts through the uterus of downtown Houston. The vulva, bless its heart, is Loop 610 that encompasses the whole she-bang, if you will.

Admittedly, it’s all a bit complicated. But the more time you spend navigating it, the more familiar you become. Just like with the loop. It all makes more sense if you’re looking at it all from the back, which appropriately places Dallas square in the butthole. “OK, Nancy,†loyal WAW readers may be thinking. “Thanks for the anatomy lesson. But why are we doing this today? And will there be a quiz?â€

Because, dear reader, SmithsonianMag.com has recently shared a bit of news I am excited to pass along to you — a bit of news that hits on all my favorite cylinders: history, science, poetry, and girly parts.

The Smith reports that Austria’s Academy of Sciences has recently discovered a long strip of parchment that corresponds with the previously discovered “Der Rosendornâ€, a poem dating back to 1500. But this “new†strip of parchment is 200 years older than that!

Why all the excitement? Well, “Der Rosendornâ€, you see, is an ancient poem that reveals a conversation between a woman and her vulva. This conversation — which was more of an argument, really — tried to answer the age-old question of what men are more attracted to a woman herself, or just her vagina.

Fascinating, no? I love the fact that 14th to 16th-century women took time from dealing with starvation, dying in childbirth, Black Death, and what not to write poetry about having a gabfest with their tootsies. Think of it as a medieval Vagina Monologues.

But back to “Der Rosendorn†which, by the way, is German for “The Rose Thornâ€. The poem, itself, is something of a mind f*ck. It’s told from the perspective of a male who observes a young virgin who, while showering in a garden, has somehow literally split from her vagina, which obviously better enables conversation. Otherwise, the woman’s neck-crick would be unbearable. Then the vulva jumps into the conversation, acting somewhat as a mediator. Then there’s something about a magical pharmaceutical root, a knight, and, of course, “chivalrous†gang rape.

It’s complicated.

It is important to consider that this poetess was talking primarily through her vulva, the source of female pleasure, rather than to her vagina, which, anatomically speaking, is the sought-after seat of the male pleasure. (Yes, straight male pleasure, to be precise, as our gay male readers would point out. Seriously, you’re still here?).

There’s some contention among scholars that the poem may have been written by a man. I doubt that, frankly, given the fact that it was written on a piece of parchment. If a man authored it, more likely he would have scrawled it on the wall of a public toilet. And the poem would have started with, “There once was a lass named Regina, who fought with her talking vagina….â€

“Der Rosendorn†concludes with the woman being reunited with her vagina, thanks to the wisdom imparted by her vulva, and the benevolent knight who nails them (literally) all back together.
Does “Der Rosendorn†have a happy ending, you ask? Nope. Not hardly. Not wishing to hog all the pleasure for himself, the knight then invites all his chums to join in the reunification celebration.
Man. What a dick.

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