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Table of contents
PREFACE
INTRODUCTION-1.1
INTRODUCTION-1.2
INTRODUCTION-1.3
INTRODUCTION-1.4
INTRODUCTION-1.5
INTRODUCTION-1.6
INTRODUCTION-1.7
FOOTNOTES-1
FOOTNOTES-2
THE STUDY OF SEXUAL INVERSION
SEXUAL INVERSION IN MEN-1
SEXUAL INVERSION IN MEN-2
SEXUAL INVERSION IN MEN-3
HISTORY-1-2-3-4
HISTORY-5
HISTORY-6
HISTORY-7-8
HISTORY-9
HISTORY-10-11-12
HISTORY-13-14
HISTORY-15
HISTORY-16-17-18-19
HISTORY-20
HISTORY-21 (begin)
HISTORY-21 (end)
HISTORY-22-23-24
HISTORY-25
HISTORY-26
HISTORY-27
HISTORY-28-29-30-31-32
HISTORY-33
SEXUAL INVERSION IN WOMEN-1
SEXUAL INVERSION IN WOMEN-2
SEXUAL INVERSION IN WOMEN-3
SEXUAL INVERSION IN WOMEN-4
HISTORY-34-35-36-37
HISTORY-38
HISTORY-39.1
HISTORY-39.2
HISTORY-39.3
HISTORY-39.4
FOOTNOTES
THE NATURE OF SEXUAL INVERSION-1
THE NATURE OF SEXUAL INVERSION-2
THE NATURE OF SEXUAL INVERSION-3
THE NATURE OF SEXUAL INVERSION-4
FOOTNOTES
THE THEORY OF SEXUAL INVERSION-1
THE THEORY OF SEXUAL INVERSION-2
THE THEORY OF SEXUAL INVERSION-3
CONCLUSIONS-1
CONCLUSIONS-2
CONCLUSIONS-3
CONCLUSIONS-4
FOOTNOTES
APPENDIX A
APPENDIX B-1
APPENDIX B-2-3-4
INDEX OF AUTHORS

formulated untutored the _rationale_ of coitus, so now 

imagination, groping in the dark, conceived a fresh fillip for 

the appetite--_cunnilinctus_. But this, though for a while quite 

adequate, soon ceased to gratify. At this juncture, Christmas of 

my first college year, I was appointed editor of a small 

magazine, an early stricture of whose new conduct was paucity of 

love stories. Such improvident neglect was in keeping with my 

altering view of women, a view accorded to me by self-dissipation 

of the glamour through which they had been wont to appear. I had 

wandered somehow behind the scenes, and beheld, no footlights of 

sex intervening, the once so radiant fairies resolved into a 

raddled humanity, as likable as ever, but desirable no longer. 

 

"Soon after this the Oscar Wilde case was bruiting about. The 

newspaper accounts of it, while illuminating, flashed upon me no 

light of self-revelation; they only amended some idle conjectures 

as to certain mystic vices I had heard whispered of. Here and 

there a newspaper allusion still too recondite was painstakingly 

clarified by an effeminate fellow-student, who, I fancy now, 

would have shown no reluctance had I begged him to adduce 

practical illustration. I purchased, too, photographs of Oscar 

Wilde, scrutinizing them under the unctuous auspices of this same 

emasculate and blandiloquent mentor. If my interest in Oscar 

Wilde arose from any other emotion than the rather morbid 

curiosity then almost universal, I was not conscious of it. 

 

"Erotic dreams, precluded hitherto by coition, came now to beset 

me. The persons of these dreams were (and still are) invariably 

women, with this one remembered exception: I dreamed that Oscar 

Wilde, one of my photographs of him incarnate, approached me with 

a buffoon languishment and perpetrated _fellatio_, an act 

verbally expounded shortly before by my oracle. For a month or 

more, recalling this dream disgusted me. 

 

"The few subsequent endeavors, tentative and half-hearted, to 

repristinate my venery were foredoomed, partly because I had 

feared they were, to failure: erection was incomplete, 

ejaculation without pleasure. 

 

"There seemed a fallacy in this behavior. Why coitus without 

sensual desire for it? No sense of duty impelled me, nor dread of 

sexual aberration. The explanation is this: attraction to females 

was not expunged, simply sublimed; my imagination, no longer 

importing women from observation, created its own delectable 

sirens, grown exacting and transcendental, petitioned reality in 

vain. Substance had receded for good now, and soon even these 

tormenting shadows of it became ever dimmer and dimmer, until 

they too at length faded into nothingness. 

 

"The antipodes of the sexual sphere turned more and more toward 

the light of my tolerance. Inversion, till now stained with a 

slight repugnance, became esthetically colorless at last, and 

then delicately retinted, at first solely with pity for its 

victims, but finally, the color deepening, with half-conscious 

inclination to attach it to myself as a remote contingency. This 

revolution, however, was not without external impetus. The 

prejudiced tone of a book I was reading, Krafft-Ebing's 

_Psychopathia Sexualis_, by prompting resentment, led me on to 

sympathy. My championing, purely abstract though it was to begin 

with, none the less involved my looking at things with eyes 

hypothetically inverted,--an orientation for the sake of 

argument. After a while, insensibly and at no one moment, 

hypothesis merged into reality: I myself was inverted. That 

occasional and fictitious inversion had never, I believe, 

superposed this true inversion; rather a true inversion, those 

many years dormant, had simply responded finally to a stimulus 

strong and prolonged enough, as a man awakens when he is loudly 

called. 

 

"In presenting myself thus sexually transformed, I do not aver 

having had at the outset any definitive inclination. The instinct 

so freshly evolved remained for a while obscure. Its primary 


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