Savage Breast Book Excerpts

Introduction: A Man’s Search for the Goddess

Why on earth would a man searching for the goddess? Especially a guy like me?

“Oh, I get it! You’re getting in touch with your feminine side!” my friends say.

No, I have to laugh. It’s just the opposite. It’s my masculinity, the darkest part of it, that yearns for her, like a lost lover, like an orphaned child. It is as if a ghost touched me on the shoulder and as I turned she disappeared. Her shadow lured me deeper into the unknown than the gods of my fathers ever did. Jesus and Buddha, they urged me away from the world, taught me to resist the ways of the flesh and seek a Kingdom of God, heaven, nirvana, a higher consciousness. It’s different with her. It’s visceral, immediate, a matter of the heart, balls and belly.    Continue Reading...

From Chapter 7: The Cult of Abundance: Artemis Of Ephesus

In the Ephesus museum an entire hall is devoted to three life-sized statues of Artemis recovered from her temple. I sat on the cool marble floor of this hall and gazed up at her, my best shot at that ‘ineffable pleasure’ Apulieus described. The room is dim. Soft lights play on the idols’ curves. Her face is impassive, her posture rigid. Her skirts flow down, making a single column of her legs. In the crooks of her outstretched arms she cradles two lions, reminiscent of the twin leopards from the Çatalhöyük goddess’ throne, sculpted some 6,000 years earlier. Her hands reach out to her adorers as if to fold them into her. On her chest, beneath a zodiac necklace, she has rows and rows of breasts. Twenty, thirty, it’s hard to count them all. They hang from her like clusters of grapes. She takes my breath away. It strikes me suddenly as so wrongheaded, the claim of scholars that she is a goddess of fertility. This Artemis does not remind me of birth. She’s a goddess of abundance, of breasts overflowing, enough for all humanity to suckle.    Continue Reading...