here’s a short excerpt from psychopathia sexualis, a book i picked up long ago, and leaf through in times of boredom. first published in germany in 1886 the book attempts to catalogue and illuminate every manner of “sexual perversion” possible. most of it seems downright cuddly and sweet in our filthy world of 2005 when a shampoo commercial carries more outwardly explicit sexual content than a 19th century woman’s entire adult existence. here in case 123 we have a fetish which is wholly benign, strangely poetic, and really, to be envied. imagine if it were all so simple…

“b., thirty years of age, apparently untainted, refined and sensitive; great lover of flowers; liked to kiss them, but without any sensual motive or sensual excitement; of a rather frigid nature; before twenty-one did not practice masturbation, and subsequently only for periods of time. at twenty-one he was introduced to a young lady who wore some large roses on her bosom. since then large roses had dominated his sexual feelings. he incessantly bought roses; kissing them would produce erection. he took roses to bed with him, although he never touched his genitals with them. his pollutions, henceforth, were accompanied by dreams of roses. he dreamt of roses that had fairy-like beauty; when he inhaled their fragrance, he ejaculated.”

ha. fantastic.