Go see male circumcision documentary Partly Private

Tonight at 10:45, Wednesday at 4:30, and Friday night at 8:30, Danae Elon's documentary about male circumcision, Partly Private, is showing as part of the Tribeca Film Festival. I highly recommend it. It documents Elon and her husband's decision about whether or not to circumcise their son, then facing the same question as she's pregnant again and shooting.

She gets arrested, visits a baby fair, travels to England and investigates the royal family's circumcision rites (there's a rumored "royal mohel"), visit Turkey, examines an artificial foreskin, attends an anti-circumcision rally, and much more. I learned that sometimes the mohel places alcohol in his mouth, then places it on the baby's just-cut penis (they don't show any actual circumcisions in the film, but they do show this). It's fascinating and I hope to do something further on it.

Here's the trailer, more clips on the official site:



IndieWire interview with director Danae Elon

NY1 on Partly Private

Interview with Paul Festa about circumcision

The latest interviewee in my Best Sex Writing 2008 contributor series is Paul Festa, who wrote a piece on circumcision called "How Insensitive." And again, you have until January 6th to win your very own copy.



You write, "Apart from bypassing a few Craigslist ads stating a preference for intact dick, I've never been aware of being discriminated against for lacking one." When was the first time you considered being circumsized possibly something that was disadvantageous?

I suppose it was when I started hearing murmurings--at that point unsupported by scientific evidence--that the foreskin wasn't just some extra piece of useless flesh like the post-partum umbilical cord, but the source of a great deal of erogenous pleasure. As I went to bed with more men I became envious of their ability to get off without pouring tubes and bottles of sticky, expensive, possibly unhealthful lubricants on their dicks. I also started having one of those reorienting conversations with myself about what my circumcision represented. It's one thing to think of it as a hygiene-justified medical procedure (although the research supporting the hygiene issue is controversial, as a follow-up story I did for Nerve emphasized). It's quite another to consider that part of my genitals were amputated for dubious medical reasons and before I could give my consent. It's not at all clear to me why parents--*even religious parents*--have the right to decide this for their children in a society that respects a separation of church and state. Do we let parents authorize clitoridectomies? If someone came forth with a compelling medical or religious justification for lopping off that or any other sexual organ, would we say go ahead, sharpen your scalpel?

Read the whole interview