Quick & Dirty Research

Holy Poker and the Finer Points

Holy Poker and the Finer Points

[Content Warning: if slang for body parts disturbs you, I recommend you avoid clicking the links in this issue. Don’t worry—I kept away from the vulgar below. If your curiosity is piqued, then click away. I guarantee you’ll learn something.]

Here we go!

Language of the body, especially in historical fiction, often needs special care and handling. When a male character comes to see his doctor for a problem with his personal area, the words he uses to refer to his thingamabob can vary greatly depending on era and region. As a writer, doing this type of deep dive makes for an entertaining afternoon, mixing laughter with a few surprising discoveries.

Shakespeare wrote a lot about love and relations, employing metaphors that often echo types of weaponization such as thrusting, spears, and swords. Going back to the Bible, however, the words used are frank (not frankfurter). Penis, emission, and horse can be found all in one sentence. As a nurse who taught her children the anatomical words for their body parts, I appreciate that people used proper terms in those early days. However, during the Middle Ages, which roughly covers the 5th to 15th c., it seems that language shifted and slang for those same parts developed.

An author uses slang for a variety of reasons. It can show a character’s age, personality, level of gruffness or delicateness, even represent a lack of connection with one’s body. In addition, words have great shock value, especially for what are considered obscenities. There is a whole subset of academic knowledge under the umbrella of Linguistic Anthropology dealing with maledictive or casual language which ties back to difficult periods in our history. Touchpoints like race, gender, imperialism and socioeconomic hierarchies resound with specific language. I won’t deep dive into that topic for you here but we can discuss it in person one day. The swears, the off-color comments, and the bodily references are often rooted in real historical moments. I believe that matching off-color slang to the particular era might be more important for a writer than getting the geography correct. The words alone can disgust, affirm, or entice, depending on the context.

In Kissed by a Midwife, my late 19th c. characters are frequently women in labor or someone visiting the doctor, dealing with a malfunctioning body part. I could avoid mentioning the unmentionables but that’s not my style. And some of my characters are salt-of-the-earth New Englanders so it would not track to use a high-brow term for certain dialogue in those cases. It’s important to use language that matches the character in the company of the reader. I’ve written about plausibility in writing, especially with historical fiction, and this area of detail is another vital part. In addition, hints, some overt and others subtle, are given as to the personality of the character.

When I write a birth scene, for example, I might use frank descriptions that are edited back later to prevent readers from cringing (thank my agent for these edits if you are a cringer!). I’m writing about blood or pain and that’s difficult for some readers to handle. But life is full of difficult things and, if a hemorrhage is important to a story, blood needs to flow, and where it’s coming from is also vital for medical accuracy. I shoot for more of an overall view or quick glimpse rather than a fine lens with body parts. Same with moments of intimacy that use similar delicate language or vulgarism. My characters, on the other hand, might be more blatant in their descriptions and want to yell the name of exactly that area which is a particular bother or atwitter in the moment.

In Kissed by a Midwife, Dotty, the wife of a sawmill worker with three sons, is in labor with her fourth child. She’s an amusing and lovable sort but on the gruffer side so when she gives birth, she remarks on her newest baby’s gifts. “Big plums on this one and a long spicket.”

You all know what that means.

I was reminded recently of a conversation that may have occurred in the back seat of my car, long ago. Two little boys that I may know as adults now, had a full conversation about synonyms for the reknown male organ. They toed the line and stuck to proper names and giggled the time away saying things like, “His name is Johnson!“ “He’s called Peter!” and, of course, “Call me Willy!”

There are innumerable lists of nicknames for the joint, the Irish inch, and the candy cane that I’ve mined from history. Using the crasser terms, which I’ll leave out here, can show a character who reflects the same level of ick as the word evokes. I find something quite amusing about using the term “kicky-wicky“ instead. For me? I’ll go for the joke pretty much every time.

I’m focused on the male here, obviously. I find many female slang terms ridiculous or downright offensive. I’ll stay away from using expressions like Venus’s cradle or the harbor of hope. However, there is some draw for me in using “aphrodisiacal tennis court” (what?!), in my efforts to explore the boundaries of fiction.

Ultimately, my readers will lean more about my characters through the use of anatomical terms to describe their parts. I’m not afraid of them and my framily (friends who are family) absolutely know that. There is one word that we used (okay, it was me, only I used it) when we’d gather the ten kids for a photo and tried to get them all to smile at once. I won’t tell you what it is, but I can tell you that a nurse does not use the term “Chief” when referring to that specific body part’s name. You should see the grins we got!

Try it out and I guarantee you’ll get your kids to smile big. Send me a photo or two and I’ll post it in a future issue, with your permission only or just let me know if it worked for you too. I hope you and your body parts enjoyed this issue. Especially your funny bone, wherever that is!