70 Year Magazine Archive

Titillating Spain

by R. P. O.

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Mr. Wright’s outlook on life will be familiar to everyone who remembers the opening pages of his autobiography, Native Son, which was a bestseller in its day. His new merchandise should be equally profitable. It contains the four-letter words that titillate our intellectals, and the ritualistic expectorations at General Franco that always warm the cockles of Liberal hearts. Constant reminders that the author as a Negro belongs to a “persecuted [sic] racial minority” will silence most critics and jerk tears from old ladies who would otherwise be disgusted by a dirty book.

The author reports that one day he left his apartment in Paris, got into his automobile, and drove to Spain. There he observed mountains, sex, poverty, sex, bullfights, sex, Fascism, and sex. His acute eye discerned phallic symbols in churches, Freudian mysteries in priests, and a profound analogy between the tapers carried in a religious procession and the sperm of a “sexually aroused bull.” He also met a large number of Spanish women: the virgins silently yearned to sleep with him, the matrons were waiting to be asked, and the prostitutes clamored eagerly for the privilege.

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