If your name is famous or infamous enough, or if it fills some sort of lexical need, it can get used as a term of description on its own. We have been hearing a lot lately about people who are supposed Mavericks, for instance. If you call someone a Benedict Arnold, everyone will know you are paying no compliment. For centuries, lotharios have been called Casanovas, meaning a libertine who has made plenty of sexual conquests. It is only part of the picture Casanova himself gives in his massive twelve-volume autobiography, and most readers (like, admittedly, your present reviewer) have contented themselves with looking for the naughty bits and ignoring the rest. This leaves the stage open for a biographer to take the massive work, decide what can be chipped away to make for a full but accessible life story, and examine confirmatory contemporary texts to inform the reader of context. This is just what Ian Kelly has done in Casanova: Actor Lover Priest Spy (Tarcher / Penguin). Kelly includes “lover” in that subtitle, but he does not include plenty of other categories in which the multi-talented Casanova excelled and which are included in this exciting biography: violinist, soldier, alchemist, cabalist, con-man, prisoner, fugitive, traveler, and the list goes on. Casanova was not always admirable, but he was always enthusiastic, and was a model for living life bravely, if excessively. He thus makes a fascinating subject, and a theatrical one in both senses of the word. Kelly is himself an actor, and successfully concentrates on the theatricality of Casanova’s life. Indeed, his book is divided into operatic acts and scenes rather than chapters, with intermezzi between the acts to explain details about the eighteenth century versions of travel or sex habits.

The theatricality starts right at the beginning; Casanova was born in 1725 to an actress in Venice, a city literally of masks, for citizens were required to wear them from October into Ash Wednesday. All his life, if he was not himself on the stage, he was hanging out with actors, making love to actresses, or traveling with a troupe. His family thought the boy was an imbecile, but an uncle realized that the nine-year-old Casanova had a voracious mind, and arranged for him to be schooled in Padua, where he was a sharp scholar and became a doctor of laws at age seventeen. He thought the church would be a good arena for his ambitions and his aim to travel, and as an abate he delivered his first sermon in the church of San Samuele, which earned him some money in the collection plate “together with some love letters all of which made me think seriously of becoming a preacher.” It is not surprising that he did not eventually find the church a perfect career. He was eventually to make money, a lot of it, as a lottery tycoon; he set up the first lottery in France, to the satisfaction of the government and to his own coffers. He had mathematical skills which were an asset in such work, but they did not help him retain his fortune, which was blown on food, wine, and fun. He was to have less success in efforts in businesses of silk dyeing, tobacco sales, or soap manufacturing, but his mathematical skills served him in his cabalistic efforts. Kelly gives a short explanation of the cabala, the “fusion of Gnosticism, Egyptian mathematics, neo-Platonism, Judaic mysticism and personal revelation” that was to intrigue Casanova all his life. It remains unclear how much Casanova really believed the occult system worked; he was dabbling in it late in his life when it could gain him no fortune, but he had been able to make it pay. This was especially the case in the notorious episode of the Marquise d’Urfé, a rich and mystically-inclined widow who thought she could get her soul reincarnated into the body of a young boy, and that Casanova was just the magus to make it happen. Preposterous ceremonies ensued, involving Casanova performing coitus with the aged Marquise and having to fake two of the three orgasms the ritual required while a naked girl danced around the couple to pique his ardor. He did get his share of the widow’s fortune, but he was always better at spending money than making it. He was to end his days as a librarian at Dux Castle in Bohemia; he did always love books, and it was the time when, slowed by age, he enjoyed his more active days by writing about them. “He became addicted to writing,” says Kelly, “as he had once been to adventure, travel, and sex.” There has always been a question of how much he padded his memoir and how much was sexual braggadocio, but Kelly finds corroborations for many of the episodes, including some that have previously been deemed questionable. It is likely that any errors in the memoir are due to simple and excusable lapses of memory more than to deliberate exaggeration.

There would have been little need to exaggerate, anyway. Someone has toted up that between age sixteen, when he lost his virginity to a pair of sisters, and age around forty-five when he lost his potency, he slept with about 130 women, or at least he wrote about that many. This is not a heroic number, if you consider that it works out to be an average of four a year. What he describes in his memoir is guilt-free enjoyment, and the stories of pleasure resonate for us more than routine porn from the time for a couple of reasons. Casanova knew of men who got pleasure from inflicting pain on their partners, but this disgusted him; he had no interest in this sort of kink, or in being on the receiving end. He had little interest in coercion and almost as little in conquest. He did have some interest in homosexual encounters, but is subdued about describing them. He was repeatedly attracted to women dressed as men, and had a spectacular affair with a girl who was passing herself as a man so she could perform as a castrato on stage. He realized that he had a compulsive interest in sexual adventure, but that the thrill was only partly physical. He was sincere rather than cynical. He liked (theatricality again) the performance, the act of bringing joy and pleasure by seductive play and then moving on. His accounts of his amours are playful and affectionate: “He was a libertine on the cusp of being a romantic,” says Kelly. He did not like sex unless it were linked with laughter, food, and joy. He liked intelligent women, and he liked pleasing them; he much preferred affairs to one night stands, and even his connections with prostitutes were long-term. He remained on good terms with many of the ladies after he had traveled away, sometimes leaving them pregnant. He was careful to keep their identities hidden in his memoir, although researchers have at least in some cases been able to give a name and personal history of some of the women he lists. He did not count himself handsome or well endowed, and he was frank about how he feared disappointing a lover, or losing an erection, or ejaculating prematurely.

In all, Casanova was one of the most fascinating characters in history, and we do him a disservice to use his name as a quick synonym for a mere “lover”. There was far more to him. He talked with Dr. Johnson about etymology, for instance, and stayed with Voltaire, and visited Rousseau, the Pope, Ben Franklin, Catherine the Great, Frederick the Great, and Mozart. He might have contributed lyrics to Mozart’s Don Giovanni; he certainly had a box at the premiere. He enjoyed food, and may have been the fellow who started off the folklore that oysters are aphrodisiacs; Kelly points out that we should appreciate Casanova as a food writer. He made his own way, had an enjoyable time of it, made it enjoyable for others, and then turned out a memoir that is known by everyone, even if not everyone has read it. Kelly’s wonderfully sympathetic but unfawning picture is full of enthusiasm for its irrepressible subject, and it gives a fascinating account of the ways of life and love throughout eighteenth-century Europe.

Casanova: Actor Lover Priest Spy
(Tarcher; October 16, 2008; ISBN: 158542658X)
Available atAmazon.com / Amazon UK

© 2008 Rob Hardy. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

To some Americans, it seems obvious that consenting adults should be able to have sex with whomever they want; to others, it seems obvious that such things should happen only in marriage. Not only should homosexuals not be sleeping together, say some in this latter group, but also if our laws don’t restrict such activities, the homosexuals are going to be recruiting our children and who knows what else will happen. Theological and legal restrictions and punishments for sodomy go back for millennia, but American laws about sodomy came into their own in the nineteenth century, and have persisted, although they have recently lost much of their power to proscribe behavior. In Dishonorable Passions: Sodomy Laws in America 1861- 2003 (Viking), William N. Eskridge Jr. has given a big and exhaustive history of such laws. A law professor himself, he filed an amicus brief for the judgement in Lawrence vs. Texas whose 2003 date indicates it is the climax of his book. Eskridge documents a change in national legal philosophy whereby adult sexual activity was acknowledged to be best regulated by the conscience of those involved, and for many reasons is best left alone by the government.

Blackstone referred to “the infamous crime against nature” and this particular wording is well known. The nature of this particular crime, however, has always been vague, allowing the definition to be expanded as those in power wished. Biological studies have shown that there is nothing unnatural about homosexual activity, as it appears all over the animal kingdom, and with special exuberance in our bonobo cousins. While many would insist that the Bible is clear in its proscriptions in Genesis, Leviticus, and the Epistles, it is not exact about what specific physiological encounters are the “shameless acts” between men, and it is even less informative about acts between women. Eskridge tries to explain why such acts have proved to be so worrisome, but he cannot penetrate far into that mystery. Sexual activity that cannot produce a pregnancy disgusts or horrifies some people; some religions even insist that it is sinful for married people to have sexual fun if the chance of pregnancy is nil. That people have heterosexual encounters far more often for fun than for an effort to produce a pregnancy seems not to matter. “Crimes against nature” has even included masturbation in some jurisdictions. There has been a longstanding fear (most loudly voiced by Florida Citrus Commission spokesperson Anita Bryant thirty years ago) that homosexuals would recruit children or even adults, and such recruitment would lead to the doom of our society. Such fears now seem quaint and undocumented within recent history. The destabilization of society that was predicted to be the result of allowing sodomy (whatever the definition is) has not happened, for instance, in Britain which decriminalized consensual sodomy in 1967, or in the states which decriminalized around the same time.

Eskridge may not be able to make clear the motivation for laws against sodomy, but he is exceedingly diligent in making clear the different steps and stages of the laws. The seventeenth century was marked by aggressive enforcement of sodomy laws, with capital punishment for violations. The states of the new nation eventually revoked the death penalty, but kept sodomy or “crime against nature” laws, most of which had to do with the insertion of a penis inside a rectum; thus, women could not commit sodomy, nor could men practicing fellatio. Eskridge says that in the late nineteen hundreds, people flocked to cities, they had better facilities for hygiene, they had more public parks and restrooms, and they had newly-invented zippers, all of which made fellatio more popular. Since it was not classed as a crime against nature, however, there was little those in authority could do. Little to do, that is, except make it part of the crimes against nature; in 1879, Pennsylvania had the first English-language law anywhere to class oral sex as sodomy, and other states followed. Incorporating cunnilingus under sodomy happened with less regularity; sometimes it was made illegal only when a man did it to a woman, perhaps reflecting that the state legislatures did not worry about or did not want to think about homosexual activity between women. Sometimes there was no allowance for being married, so that married couples who enjoyed oral or anal sex were breaking the law, although no state went after these particular miscreants. The new laws were seldom used, too, on unmarried heterosexual couples except for purposes of prosecuting prostitution, so that the laws against sodomy were in fact laws against homosexual behavior. Politicians found it convenient to link homosexuality with other practices thought nasty at the time: “… the Russians are strong believers in homosexuality,” said one representative during the McCarthy period.

As the twentieth century progressed, legislators leaned more toward the nineteenth century utilitarian ideas of Jeremy Bentham who wrote that British sodomy laws restricted pleasure (however much non-participants were disgusted by the idea) without giving social benefit. Thinkers like Margaret Mead and Dr. Alfred Kinsey (both of whom had some personal knowledge of the subject) went on record as opposing consensual sodomy laws. The famous jurist Learned Hand in 1955 got consensual sodomy dropped from a Model Penal Code, and dozens of states adopted the code. Nonetheless, some states kept the laws. In 1982 in Atlanta, Michael Hardwick was arrested for oral sex with another man, and local ACLU attorneys filed suit on his behalf. In 1985, the Supreme Court ruled that Georgia had acted properly. Chief Justice Warren Burger wrote, “To hold that the act of homosexual sodomy is somehow protected as a fundamental right would be to cast aside millennia of moral teaching.” Eskridge explains how Burger’s view was incorrectly reasoned (including the idea that homosexuals were recruiting others and contaminating society) and how it was evaluated that way by many experts at the time. It was not until 2003 that the Supreme Court got a chance to change the decision. It was a more conservative court at that time, and the country had gone through a spell of politically powerful Christian conservatism. The most conservative members would have kept the sodomy laws in action in considering Lawrence vs. Texas, but they were in a 6 – 3 minority. It was yet another case in which police had conducted a search of questionable ethics and legality into the apartment of one John Lawrence, and found him in bed with another man. Justice Anthony Kennedy in his majority opinion wrote, “Bowers was not correct when it was decided, and it is not correct today.”

Much of Eskridge’s book is of legal analysis deeper than many layman will enjoy, but there are details here of the lives of, say, Bowers and Hardwick, and not just their legal cases. There are descriptions of lawyers on both sides of issues, and the judges who ruled on the cases, so that the book provides a picture of how the law works and how it has come to allow consensual sodomy today, while still capably prosecuting forced sex or sex upon minors. Given the subject, there are flashes of humor in what is otherwise a solidly serious tome. For instance, in the 1961 decriminalization debate in the Illinois capitol, one exasperated representative exclaimed that the only way sex would in the future be illegal in his state was “… if you’re doing it on the front porch and blowing a bugle! And you can do it with either sex!” Eskridge notes that there was an embarrassed silence, and then bill for decriminalization was passed. All the battles are not now won; Eskridge writes, “The state can no longer legislate gay people as outlaws, but neither must it treat sexual variation as completely benign or neutral… The United States has not become a nation of moral liberals generally, and certainly not as regards homosexuals.” The current controversies are over gay marriage or partnership agreements, and the controversies rage, but at least the era of legal persecution for the act of sodomy itself is over.

Dishonorable Passions: Sodomy Laws in America, 1861-2003
(Viking Adult; May 1, 2008; ISBN-10: 0670018627)
Available at: Amazon.com / Amazon UK

© 2008 Rob Hardy. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.