Reviewed by: Pleasure Erased: The Clitoris Unthought by Catherine Malabou Tyler M. Williams Malabou, Catherine. Pleasure Erased: The Clitoris Unthought Trans. Carolyn Shread. Hoboken, NJ: Polity, 2022. 150 pages. The word appears in a French text for the first time in 1575 and disappears by 1585. Freud famously theorizes it as a castrated penis. Lacan reduces its significance by asserting the primacy of the phallus. Derrida is silent on it despite his elaboration of the phallogocentrism of philosophical discourse. Foucault never mentions it in The History of Sexuality except to describe a monstrosity. Clitoridectomies and other forms of so-called "genital mutilation" persist around the world. Symbolic clitoridectomies persist in patriarchal cultures that confine female sexuality to the law of reproductive utility. As the "only organ whose sole purpose is pleasure," the clitoris exists as a site of material and symbolic erasure. But, as Catherine Malabou argues, this erasure also shapes a revolutionary potential (1). Pleasure Erased tracks the various modes of domination that leave the clitoris unthought in western philosophy, spanning from ancient Greece through psychoanalysis, biopolitics, deconstruction, feminism, and queer theory. By rendering the clitoris philosophically visible, Malabou's short book serves as a provocation against the phallocracy that excises clitoral pleasure from the philosophical domain. However, to bring the clitoris to light cannot amount to showcasing it as a docile object fully rendered on an essentialized pedestal. Nor can it amount to negotiating a conciliatory space for it within philosophy's phallocentric language. Consequently, one of the most impactful contributions Pleasure Erased makes to contemporary thought is Malabou's call to think the clitoris as unthought, that is, as caesurae in which the production of conceptual visibility in one area simultaneously produces darkness elsewhere: "Stroking with one hand, rubbing out with the other" (6). As human mammals evolved to ovulate spontaneously and cyclically rather than strictly via copulation, the clitoris slowly migrated away from the entrance to the vagina (28–29). Malabou argues that this anatomical space between clitoris and vagina, which gives form to the distance between pleasure and reproduction, also forms a variety of symbolic caesurae—including "patriarchal authority, psychoanalytic diktat, moral imperatives, the weight of custom or ancestral ballast" (121)—that work to dismiss the autonomy of a properly feminine mode of pleasure outside phallic predominance. The clitoral and its corresponding pleasure, Malabou argues, refuses the paradigms of penetration and verticality upon which masculine forms of domination and their concomitant binarisms are predicated (118). Clitoral pleasure, clitoral thinking, and the clitoris itself assert material forms of pleasure that [End Page 465] disobey "phallic power," that remain indifferent to hierarchical binarisms, that remain, in a sense, horizontal in their allegiances (65). As a result, Malabou describes these "clitoridian zones" as denaturalized and nonbinary (115). That is, the "feminine" elaborated throughout Pleasure Erased does not refer to a specific gender but to a kind of mutable positioning. Just as "the phallus is not the penis, since […] sexuality infinitely exceeds the genitals" (50), Malabou rejects the insinuation that the clitoral materially reconstitutes an "essence" of "woman." By engaging second-wave feminism alongside recent trans-feminism (cf. chapters 6–9 and 12, which are devoted to Beauvoir, Irigaray, Lonzi, and Preciado, among others), Malabou articulates a concept of "the feminine" as a "new becoming-subject," as a form of consciousness and subjectivization that, as clitoral, retains a sense of "sexual difference" but sheds all alliances with difference's complicity in rigidified schemas of binarism, teleology, and hierarchy (62). Some readers might feel unpersuaded by the brevity of Malabou's book, wishing instead that detailed exposition and penetrating depth replace its open constellations and insinuated connections. But this is a demand for an altogether different (vertical) book, indeed an altogether different pleasure. One of the most compelling features of Pleasure Erased is, in fact, its horizontal style, which excites rather than commands. Malabou closes her opening chapter by claiming that she does not expect to "prove" anything (12). Instead, the book's small chapters, its little clitorises, position and reposition themselves as provocations to bring this organ of pleasure to thought. If the clitoris is and has always been that "scruple" or "secret nub," that "piece of grit lodged...
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