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Clean: An Unsanitised History of Washing
'I return to Paris in five days. Stop washing.' So wrote Napoleon to Josephine in an age when body odour was considered an aphrodisiac. In stark contrast, the Romans used to bath for hours each day. Ashenburg's investigation of history's ambivalence towards personal hygiene takes her through plague-ridden streets, hospitals and battlefields. From the bizarre prescriptions of doctors to the eccentricities of famous bathers, she presents us with all the twists and turns that have led us to our own, arbitrary notion of 'clean'.
417 pages, Kindle Edition
First published October 12, 2007
158 people are currently reading
10301 people want to read
About the author
Katherine Ashenburg
10 books73 followersKatherine Ashenburg is the prize-winning author of three non-fiction books and hundreds of articles on subjects that range from travel to mourning customs to architecture. She describes herself as a lapsed Dickensian and as someone who has had a different career every decade. Her work life began with a Ph.D. dissertation about Dickens and Christmas, but she quickly left the academic world for successive careers at the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation as a radio producer; at the Toronto newspaper The Globe and Mail as the arts and books editor; and most recently as a freelance writer, lecturer and teacher.
Her first book, Going to Town: Architectural Walking Tours in Southern Ontario, won the Ontario Historical Society's award for best regional history. Her second book, The Mourner's Dance: What We Do When People Die, was a finalist for two important prizes. Her latest book The Dirt on Clean: An Unsanitized History, is a spirited chronicle of the West's ambivalent relationship with the washed and unwashed body. She's a regular contributor to the Sunday Travel section of The New York Times and she writes a column on design and architecture for Toronto Life magazine.
Her first book, Going to Town: Architectural Walking Tours in Southern Ontario, won the Ontario Historical Society's award for best regional history. Her second book, The Mourner's Dance: What We Do When People Die, was a finalist for two important prizes. Her latest book The Dirt on Clean: An Unsanitized History, is a spirited chronicle of the West's ambivalent relationship with the washed and unwashed body. She's a regular contributor to the Sunday Travel section of The New York Times and she writes a column on design and architecture for Toronto Life magazine.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 351 reviews
December 12, 2017
I love a clean space. I actually like cleaning, particularly when it involves dusting my bookshelves. There's something about a room where I've just removed the dust, hair and debris that says, 'order,' followed by 'exhale.' In the old days, I used to need/have to clean my room before I could work on any term papers. So when I saw this title, I was intrigued. I'm well aware 'clean' is psychologically, personally and culturally defined. I have, after all, lived with other people, one of whom would have dust bunnies the size of hamsters under the bed, and another whose tolerance for dirty bathrooms inevitably resulted in me cleaning it. Every. Week. But I digress. Unfortunately, The Dirt on Clean is largely about Western bathing rituals, from early Greek and Roman period to the English in the Middle Ages and 19th centuries, and then finally modern American. It was vaguely interesting, in a sleepy-time bath kind of way.
On the entertaining side, if you've ever wondered how Western bathing rituals evolved through the years, you'll find a reasonable detailing here. The ancient Greeks (no mention of the modern ones) were well known for public baths, plumbing, and a culture that encouraged bathing for both social and health reasons. Hippocrates apparently believed hot and cold baths could bring the body's humours into balance. Of course, bathhouses also served as an important social setting.
Ashenburg then devotes a chapter to Christianity and bathing, particularly the unusual non-emphasis on physical cleanliness/ritual as compared to other religions. In fact, excessive washing "signified vanity and worldliness," (p.59) as well as potentially immodest exposure. Hot baths might also be stimulating, a concept that would be echoed in the Victorian era.
Several more chapters discuss varying aspects of bathing through Europe during the next millennia. Some areas retained bathing and bathhouses (the Swiss, the French) through the 1300s, but the plague ended up being a fatal blow to the conception of water as healthy because of the growing belief that baths and water opened the pores and let "pestiferous vapour in" (p.94). Mr. Francis Bacon, as a matter of fact, had a regimen where a person had a pre-bath oil and salve routine to close pores, sat in the bath for 2 hours, then wrapped in a waxed cloth that had herbs and resin for 24 hours, intending to re-close pores and 'harden' the body.
Further chapters explore the return of cold water bathing in the 1700s which coincided with the view that the pores should be open so that germs could be flushed away from the body. Technology facilitated the rise of bidets and ocean 'baths' in the 1750s. As the trend gained traction in the upper classes, the issue became how to convince the lower classes to clean up, covered in the return of baths/bathouses and development of showers in the 1800s that was connected to cholera. A subsequent chapter looks at plumbing in America during the same time frame, followed by soap and marketing in the early 1900s, and the crazy war on germs from the 1950s onward.
My problem with this book is that it was neither fish nor fowl. On one side, it talks about cleanliness from a ritual and conceptual standpoint, occasionally tying it into medical theory or physical resources. The problem with this approach is that she also uses stories as examples of rituals, when--as readers know--sometimes stories are as much about what we wish or fantasize about rather than what is. Or, you know, metaphor. Like using Fifty Shades of Grey to talk about sexual rituals in 21st century America; although they are connected, there's a difference between cultural practices and cultural entertainment. So my academic criticism would be that she muddles her anthropological analysis. For instance, getting the lower classes to bathe was illustrated by Eliza Dolittle in My Fair Lady. I'll also note that although she rarely brings in examples of various bathing rituals in other countries, it usually lacks context.
On the other side, she also enjoys sharing the Trivia(l) Pursuit or Entertainment Tonight type of stories where we get the scandalous and shocking details of what they did Way Back When, such as when Jean-Jacques Rousseau griped that a house was so full of "maids and teasing lackeys [that] I do not find a single wall or wretched little corner" to pee in. She also tries periodically to bring in the issue of 'smells.' Although in the opening chapter she recognizes smell as cultural concept, she still brings it into many of the chapters where people had habits that would be considered culturally unsavory now, but then slams modern (American) culture for being so smell-conscious now.
In an effort to be appropriate, I usually read it in the bath, which accounts for the many days it took to complete my reading. it might have also contributed to its soporific effects, in contrast to those crazy Victorians thinking it heats the blood. It's not a bad book, but when it comes to non-fiction, I prefer less attempts to be titillating and more focus on substance.
On the entertaining side, if you've ever wondered how Western bathing rituals evolved through the years, you'll find a reasonable detailing here. The ancient Greeks (no mention of the modern ones) were well known for public baths, plumbing, and a culture that encouraged bathing for both social and health reasons. Hippocrates apparently believed hot and cold baths could bring the body's humours into balance. Of course, bathhouses also served as an important social setting.
Ashenburg then devotes a chapter to Christianity and bathing, particularly the unusual non-emphasis on physical cleanliness/ritual as compared to other religions. In fact, excessive washing "signified vanity and worldliness," (p.59) as well as potentially immodest exposure. Hot baths might also be stimulating, a concept that would be echoed in the Victorian era.
Several more chapters discuss varying aspects of bathing through Europe during the next millennia. Some areas retained bathing and bathhouses (the Swiss, the French) through the 1300s, but the plague ended up being a fatal blow to the conception of water as healthy because of the growing belief that baths and water opened the pores and let "pestiferous vapour in" (p.94). Mr. Francis Bacon, as a matter of fact, had a regimen where a person had a pre-bath oil and salve routine to close pores, sat in the bath for 2 hours, then wrapped in a waxed cloth that had herbs and resin for 24 hours, intending to re-close pores and 'harden' the body.
Further chapters explore the return of cold water bathing in the 1700s which coincided with the view that the pores should be open so that germs could be flushed away from the body. Technology facilitated the rise of bidets and ocean 'baths' in the 1750s. As the trend gained traction in the upper classes, the issue became how to convince the lower classes to clean up, covered in the return of baths/bathouses and development of showers in the 1800s that was connected to cholera. A subsequent chapter looks at plumbing in America during the same time frame, followed by soap and marketing in the early 1900s, and the crazy war on germs from the 1950s onward.
My problem with this book is that it was neither fish nor fowl. On one side, it talks about cleanliness from a ritual and conceptual standpoint, occasionally tying it into medical theory or physical resources. The problem with this approach is that she also uses stories as examples of rituals, when--as readers know--sometimes stories are as much about what we wish or fantasize about rather than what is. Or, you know, metaphor. Like using Fifty Shades of Grey to talk about sexual rituals in 21st century America; although they are connected, there's a difference between cultural practices and cultural entertainment. So my academic criticism would be that she muddles her anthropological analysis. For instance, getting the lower classes to bathe was illustrated by Eliza Dolittle in My Fair Lady. I'll also note that although she rarely brings in examples of various bathing rituals in other countries, it usually lacks context.
On the other side, she also enjoys sharing the Trivia(l) Pursuit or Entertainment Tonight type of stories where we get the scandalous and shocking details of what they did Way Back When, such as when Jean-Jacques Rousseau griped that a house was so full of "maids and teasing lackeys [that] I do not find a single wall or wretched little corner" to pee in. She also tries periodically to bring in the issue of 'smells.' Although in the opening chapter she recognizes smell as cultural concept, she still brings it into many of the chapters where people had habits that would be considered culturally unsavory now, but then slams modern (American) culture for being so smell-conscious now.
In an effort to be appropriate, I usually read it in the bath, which accounts for the many days it took to complete my reading. it might have also contributed to its soporific effects, in contrast to those crazy Victorians thinking it heats the blood. It's not a bad book, but when it comes to non-fiction, I prefer less attempts to be titillating and more focus on substance.
February 17, 2018
If anyone ever tells you that you shouldn't be spontaneous. That every decision in life needs a solution. Shove this book in their face. I just saw this book randomly on my Goodread's rec list and thought, "Why not?. What could you possible tell me that I don't already know? Challenge me, book!" And this book, did not disappoint. Everything was built up and up and up and I can tell you that I was giving myself a good scrub down and wash while I was reading this book. Water and Sanitation is something I will never take advantage of.
Katherine Ashenburg did a fantastic job in going through history and telling the story how people from different cultures viewed the simple concept of hygiene. It's a lot more complex than you can possibly imagine and the effects of each culture's mentality had affected them both positively and negatively. To you and I, the simple concept of maintaining your hygiene is something you don't even think about. You were taught when you were young and then you just added it to your routine. Yet, had you been brought up in a different timeline, your views would have definitely been different.
It's incredible to think that such a minuscule task was something that challenged societal views. I'm talking big issues such as views on "What made a man?", "Is keeping clean a sin?", "How much is too clean?","Can the temperature of water affect my manliness?", "If my enemy cleans, should I not to distance any possible association I have with them?", "What does it mean to be clean?"
You may laugh at reading these questions, but I kid you not when I say that these were dilemmas people faced throughout history. Mind you, this book focuses more on European and North American notions and history. Yet, it's fascinating and mind boggling to read how people viewed cleanliness throughout different timelines. You've got conceptions of public baths being normal to it becoming a dreaded sanctity. You have people shunning the idea of having a bath but being totally okay with wading thorough a public bathhouse filled with other people's germs, dirt, blood, hair, and god knows what else. For a long period of time, cleanliness was represented by having closets loaded with clean white linen. It's why today, we still view clean white linen as a sign of cleanliness. So the next time you see a painting where the subject is wearing clothes that show their linen underclothes, realize that it's not because they're trying to be "hot" for their timeline. It was the way of displaying wealth and cleanliness. The concept of cleanliness was so ingrained in people's head that if your enemy kept clean, you wouldn't This happened in Spain when the Moors invaded. The Moors kept clean so the Christians decided to not keep clean as a propagandist act of patriotism. It got to the point where after taking back the invaded land, they declared a law stating that any Moor who converted had to give up bathing. And in court, you would get automatic suspicion if someone accused you of bathing. This notion of staying dirty might boggle and disgust you but there was a reason as to why they saw things this way. It was simply because 1. most people had a fear of water 2. It was considered a sin to bathe too much as it would make you vain. In fact, during the middle ages, the cleanest group of people would have probably been Jewish women. After each menstrual cycle, they were required to take a special purifying bath that required them to have nothing touching the skin. So they would have had a minimum of 12 baths (maybe less depending on how frequent periods were as physical exercise does have an effect on period frequency). Can you imagine though, if the cleanest person in your community took a bath only 12 times a year????
Despite having slightly different views on hygiene, most European countries had a fear of water. They had the misconception that water (especially hot water) would remove the "protective" layer of dirt off of one's body allowing harmful pathogens from the outside to come into the body through the now open pores of the skin. If people were to take baths it was due to illness where a special herbal bath was taken. This was because most people up til probably the late 1800's strongly believed in the principles of Greek medicine where there would be 4 humors that needed to be balanced at all times. There was also the fear that water was the "unknown". Who knew where it could take you or what could be hiding within in. Ironically, the lack of regular maintenance is what led to the widespread of many plagues. If you look in the course of history, you will see that most plagues were occurring in Europe. Why do you think that it, especially since the Europeans viewed the East as "Those that bathe.". There was also the conception that regular bathing (if at all any bathing) would lead to prying eyes, vain behavior, and of course, acts of immodesty (ahm..ahm..). Clearly chastity was ranked higher than hygiene... Needless to say, people STANK.
Fast forwarding years later, it seems as if the people in America became the pioneers in hygiene. A lot of research was done in the late 1800's to early/post WW1 on hygiene but little was done in actually implementing anything because people didn't want to change. But America did. For them, since there was so much land, it was okay to have expensive homes with built in baths. Yes, people. The only reason we have bathrooms in our house was because Americans were rich enough and had enough space to facilitate it. Soon with the introduction of women to the work field, people became conscious of the odor (yes...smelling clean came from the notion that offending a women by your smell would be despicable) and marketing companies leapt at this goldmine. It's why today many complain of Americans as being too obsessed with hygiene (yes, there is such as thing as being too clean). But you can't blame the people. No. The fault lies in the marketing companies (do I see a familiar trend for today's issues???). However, I also learned some cool things such as how Kotex came to be. You know the infamous pad company? Well guess what their original pads were made from? It was the same bandages that were used to sop up the blood from injured soldiers because people believed that if it was good enough for the soldier, it would be good enough for the women (especially since people were more keen on insulting women after seeing their tenacity during the wars).
At the end of the day, this book was magnificent. there were many pictures and little tidbits of information here and there. Ashenburg knows how to capture and audience and how to inform you without boring you. I loved this book (clearly), but you know what surprises me the most? That at the end of it all; even after going through the history of just how important hygiene is, I still see people leaving the washroom without washing their hands. -_-
Katherine Ashenburg did a fantastic job in going through history and telling the story how people from different cultures viewed the simple concept of hygiene. It's a lot more complex than you can possibly imagine and the effects of each culture's mentality had affected them both positively and negatively. To you and I, the simple concept of maintaining your hygiene is something you don't even think about. You were taught when you were young and then you just added it to your routine. Yet, had you been brought up in a different timeline, your views would have definitely been different.
It's incredible to think that such a minuscule task was something that challenged societal views. I'm talking big issues such as views on "What made a man?", "Is keeping clean a sin?", "How much is too clean?","Can the temperature of water affect my manliness?", "If my enemy cleans, should I not to distance any possible association I have with them?", "What does it mean to be clean?"
You may laugh at reading these questions, but I kid you not when I say that these were dilemmas people faced throughout history. Mind you, this book focuses more on European and North American notions and history. Yet, it's fascinating and mind boggling to read how people viewed cleanliness throughout different timelines. You've got conceptions of public baths being normal to it becoming a dreaded sanctity. You have people shunning the idea of having a bath but being totally okay with wading thorough a public bathhouse filled with other people's germs, dirt, blood, hair, and god knows what else. For a long period of time, cleanliness was represented by having closets loaded with clean white linen. It's why today, we still view clean white linen as a sign of cleanliness. So the next time you see a painting where the subject is wearing clothes that show their linen underclothes, realize that it's not because they're trying to be "hot" for their timeline. It was the way of displaying wealth and cleanliness. The concept of cleanliness was so ingrained in people's head that if your enemy kept clean, you wouldn't This happened in Spain when the Moors invaded. The Moors kept clean so the Christians decided to not keep clean as a propagandist act of patriotism. It got to the point where after taking back the invaded land, they declared a law stating that any Moor who converted had to give up bathing. And in court, you would get automatic suspicion if someone accused you of bathing. This notion of staying dirty might boggle and disgust you but there was a reason as to why they saw things this way. It was simply because 1. most people had a fear of water 2. It was considered a sin to bathe too much as it would make you vain. In fact, during the middle ages, the cleanest group of people would have probably been Jewish women. After each menstrual cycle, they were required to take a special purifying bath that required them to have nothing touching the skin. So they would have had a minimum of 12 baths (maybe less depending on how frequent periods were as physical exercise does have an effect on period frequency). Can you imagine though, if the cleanest person in your community took a bath only 12 times a year????
Despite having slightly different views on hygiene, most European countries had a fear of water. They had the misconception that water (especially hot water) would remove the "protective" layer of dirt off of one's body allowing harmful pathogens from the outside to come into the body through the now open pores of the skin. If people were to take baths it was due to illness where a special herbal bath was taken. This was because most people up til probably the late 1800's strongly believed in the principles of Greek medicine where there would be 4 humors that needed to be balanced at all times. There was also the fear that water was the "unknown". Who knew where it could take you or what could be hiding within in. Ironically, the lack of regular maintenance is what led to the widespread of many plagues. If you look in the course of history, you will see that most plagues were occurring in Europe. Why do you think that it, especially since the Europeans viewed the East as "Those that bathe.". There was also the conception that regular bathing (if at all any bathing) would lead to prying eyes, vain behavior, and of course, acts of immodesty (ahm..ahm..). Clearly chastity was ranked higher than hygiene... Needless to say, people STANK.
Fast forwarding years later, it seems as if the people in America became the pioneers in hygiene. A lot of research was done in the late 1800's to early/post WW1 on hygiene but little was done in actually implementing anything because people didn't want to change. But America did. For them, since there was so much land, it was okay to have expensive homes with built in baths. Yes, people. The only reason we have bathrooms in our house was because Americans were rich enough and had enough space to facilitate it. Soon with the introduction of women to the work field, people became conscious of the odor (yes...smelling clean came from the notion that offending a women by your smell would be despicable) and marketing companies leapt at this goldmine. It's why today many complain of Americans as being too obsessed with hygiene (yes, there is such as thing as being too clean). But you can't blame the people. No. The fault lies in the marketing companies (do I see a familiar trend for today's issues???). However, I also learned some cool things such as how Kotex came to be. You know the infamous pad company? Well guess what their original pads were made from? It was the same bandages that were used to sop up the blood from injured soldiers because people believed that if it was good enough for the soldier, it would be good enough for the women (especially since people were more keen on insulting women after seeing their tenacity during the wars).
At the end of the day, this book was magnificent. there were many pictures and little tidbits of information here and there. Ashenburg knows how to capture and audience and how to inform you without boring you. I loved this book (clearly), but you know what surprises me the most? That at the end of it all; even after going through the history of just how important hygiene is, I still see people leaving the washroom without washing their hands. -_-
November 5, 2016
All the Dirt: A History of Getting Clean by Katherine Ashenburg is a fascinating book on the history of mankind and getting "clean". This book explores various TIMES in history along with various CULTURES and tells the reader what culture, at that time period, believed was "clean". Don't eat while reading this! I tried, you won't want to. It is truly amazing the different thoughts, beliefs, customs, and crazy things they did to be clean, or not to be clean, and why. A lot of knowledge in this book and it is all fun stuff. Not just for kids either! I knew some but I learned so much! Truly an awesome book! Great job for grossing me out and making me learn something!!! Thanks NetGalley for the book suggesting, I will try to eat now. Maybe.
January 31, 2018
This was a great history on cleanliness and what was thought of being clean through the ages and throughout the world. It was very interesting. It was written in a way that children could easily understand but that adults would also find engaging. I really enjoyed this book. I would recommend this book as a nonfiction to grade schoolers, teachers and parents.
September 6, 2009
Currently in America the average person can visit a drugstore and find entire aisles devoted to a previously unimaginable number of products to clean our bodies with: body wash, shampoos, conditioners, body scrubs, face scrubs, bar soap, liquid soap, gel soap, exfoliators, foaming cleansers, etc... And each of those products is available in a wide range of scents that allow us to choose to smell like baby powder, lilacs, vanilla, sweet peas, even chocolate. In this atmosphere it is easy to forget - if we ever knew - that until relatively recently in human history people smelled like, well, like people. Most of the time they didn't have a choice, but even when they did there was no consensus about the desirability or even the healthfulness of being clean. Over the centuries doctors have repeatedly advised against bathing for reasons as diverse as the fact that washing away the coating of oils on the body "opened the pores" to disease or that regular bathing would lead to "sinfulness" and ultimately insanity.
The Dirt on Clean is a fun look at the standards of personal cleanliness down through the centuries. Ashenburg doesn't have any new information to add and if you are interested in the subject and have already read other histories I doubt you will learn anything you didn't already know, but she has an easy, friendly writing style and the book is interspersed with quotes and illustrations that make it a quick read.
The Dirt on Clean is a fun look at the standards of personal cleanliness down through the centuries. Ashenburg doesn't have any new information to add and if you are interested in the subject and have already read other histories I doubt you will learn anything you didn't already know, but she has an easy, friendly writing style and the book is interspersed with quotes and illustrations that make it a quick read.
February 2, 2013
I have a confession to make. This modern obsession of cleanliness has somewhat passed me by – both in regards to the home and to the body. Don’t get me wrong, I’m far from dirty but 2-3 showers a week, regular hand/face washing and daily clean clothes seem to suffice for me. I’ve never bought into this ‘need’ for 2 showers a day, face masks and portable hand sanitiser to be used in every day life. I’m neither dead nor sick (surprise surprise). I’ve always wondered, quietly, to myself, for fear of being thought of as a dirty harlot, whether I am more natural than others or just plain weird and so the blurb on that back of this delightful looking book (admit it – a good cover always helps) pulled me in immediately.
Katherine Ashenburg does pretty much what the title suggests. The book details a seemingly well-researched and thoroughly referenced history of washing through Europe and America, starting with the Romans and ending, of course, with modern day. It is full of delightful little factoids that I will most definitely be repeating for a while (until they are pushed out of my memory by other dirty thoughts). From communal – even social – defecating to the belief that blocking the pores with dirt will prevent infection to the obsessive, unnatural cleanliness of modern Americans, this book provides an amusing, entertaining and thought-provoking read.
Occasionally, it is true that the narrative is a little jumpy and lacks a polished shine but these occurrences are few and far between and can certainly be forgiven when Ashenburg’s charming and passionate voice shines through. Even in the course of the more mediocre parts of history, particular the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries when washing was distinctly average (extremes are far more exciting), Ashenburg’s personal delight and excitement by the things she has learned through her research is obvious and that in itself can create delight and at the very least, interest in the reader.
If you are interested in social history and enjoy an amusing and easily readable narrative, this fascinating little book is most definitely for you. It will take you on the roller-coaster of ever changing ‘clean’ rules and regardless of where you land in the ‘cleanliness scale’, it will show you that are most definitely not alone.
Katherine Ashenburg does pretty much what the title suggests. The book details a seemingly well-researched and thoroughly referenced history of washing through Europe and America, starting with the Romans and ending, of course, with modern day. It is full of delightful little factoids that I will most definitely be repeating for a while (until they are pushed out of my memory by other dirty thoughts). From communal – even social – defecating to the belief that blocking the pores with dirt will prevent infection to the obsessive, unnatural cleanliness of modern Americans, this book provides an amusing, entertaining and thought-provoking read.
Occasionally, it is true that the narrative is a little jumpy and lacks a polished shine but these occurrences are few and far between and can certainly be forgiven when Ashenburg’s charming and passionate voice shines through. Even in the course of the more mediocre parts of history, particular the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries when washing was distinctly average (extremes are far more exciting), Ashenburg’s personal delight and excitement by the things she has learned through her research is obvious and that in itself can create delight and at the very least, interest in the reader.
If you are interested in social history and enjoy an amusing and easily readable narrative, this fascinating little book is most definitely for you. It will take you on the roller-coaster of ever changing ‘clean’ rules and regardless of where you land in the ‘cleanliness scale’, it will show you that are most definitely not alone.
February 23, 2021
Also known as "Everything You Ever Wanted to Know about Baths but Were Afraid to Ask."
A decent, comprehensive look at cultural and temporal perceptions of cleanliness through the ages, beginning with the ancient Greeks/Romans/Egyptians and bringing it all the way to modern day. It does make you examine your own ideas of hygiene and cleanliness, and why you have those positions. I found it particularly edifying to think about the ways that allegations of uncleanliness, or incorrect hygiene, are used to "otherize" people (foreign cultures, the homeless).
And, of course, as with literally everything on planet Earth-- it's interesting to read this 2007 book in light of the COVID-19 pandemic. Specifically, this section:
"Fears about disease are unquestioningly exacerbating our 21st-century preoccupation with hygiene, whether the disease is the Norwalk virus, bird flu, SARS, MRSA, or e. coli. In 2003, SARS struck 8,096 people and killed 774. Thirty-one of those deaths occurred in Toronto, more than any place outside Asia, and that taught Torontonians in short order the virtues of face masks, Purell, and handwashing." According to [experts], those straightforward low-tech practices are about the only hygienic steps that might protect us in the next pandemic."
Ooh, that just hits different.
A decent, comprehensive look at cultural and temporal perceptions of cleanliness through the ages, beginning with the ancient Greeks/Romans/Egyptians and bringing it all the way to modern day. It does make you examine your own ideas of hygiene and cleanliness, and why you have those positions. I found it particularly edifying to think about the ways that allegations of uncleanliness, or incorrect hygiene, are used to "otherize" people (foreign cultures, the homeless).
And, of course, as with literally everything on planet Earth-- it's interesting to read this 2007 book in light of the COVID-19 pandemic. Specifically, this section:
"Fears about disease are unquestioningly exacerbating our 21st-century preoccupation with hygiene, whether the disease is the Norwalk virus, bird flu, SARS, MRSA, or e. coli. In 2003, SARS struck 8,096 people and killed 774. Thirty-one of those deaths occurred in Toronto, more than any place outside Asia, and that taught Torontonians in short order the virtues of face masks, Purell, and handwashing." According to [experts], those straightforward low-tech practices are about the only hygienic steps that might protect us in the next pandemic."
Ooh, that just hits different.
July 22, 2023
The Dirt on Clean - An Unsanitized History by Katherine Ashenburg takes us through our delightfully dirty and grubby past, as we meander through the ages taking stock of attitudes to dirt and cleanliness and examining the drivers for the vast changes along the way.
Ashenburg explores many aspects of dirtiness, cleanliness and bathing and makes this observation early in the book:
"The archetypal link between dirt and guilt, and cleanliness and innocence, is built into our language - perhaps into our psyches. We talk about dirty jokes and laundering money." Page 8
In the Roman Empire, cleanliness was an important part of life, work and leisure, with many Romans spending up to two hours at the public baths every day. The use of strigils - a curved blade used to scrape the skin - as part of the ancient greek bathing process wasn't new to me, but get this:
"Greek athletes, who exercised in the nude - gymnasium literally means 'the naked place' - first oiled their bodies and covered them with a thin layer of dust or sand to prevent chills. After [exercise] the men and boys removed their oil and dust, now mingled with sweat with a curved metal scraper called a strigil." Page 24
I knew athletes competed nude and oiled their bodies after bathing, but didn't know they applied dust or sand to prevent them getting cold; or the meaning of gymnasium for that matter! A little later in the book, we learn:
"The accumulated sweat, dirt and oil that a famous athlete or gladiator strigiled off himself was sold to his fans in small vials. Some Roman women reportedly used it as a face cream." Page 38
While this might make us recoil with disgust, it's really no different to social media influencers today selling their bath water or sending their socks to eager fans willing to pay big bucks.
It's fascinating to me that personal hygiene habits and attitudes to bathing have changed so dramatically over time. From the bathhouse traditions that date from the Middle Ages, Ashenburg gives us a broad overview of the relationship between cleanliness and religion. Muslims perform ritual ablutions and their cleanliness has been one of the culturally defining points of difference between Christians and Muslims. If the Muslims were meticulously clean, then the Christians were known for being dirty. When it comes to saints though, the dirtier the better.
"For ordinary Christians, cleanliness was a [sic] good, bringing comfort, a sense of well-being and a measure of healthfulness. Humility and charity demanded that the most scrupulously filthy saints help others to clean." Page 63
It's ironic that human suffering, poverty, abstinence and lack of washing demonstrated religious devotion with many only washing the parts of the body that could be seen, like the hands and face.
During many plagues, it was thought dirt blocked the pores of the skin which prevented the plague entering the human body. Washing or having a bath would strip a person of this protective layer and many were certain they'd die as a result. A shortage of firewood also contributed to the decline in popularity for bathing, as resources to heat water became scarcer.
Many will know the famous quote from Elizabeth I who bathed once a month, "whether I need it or not", but did you know:
"Elizabeth's successor, James I, reportedly washed only his fingers." Page 99
Ashenburg includes many familiar and well worn quotes about cleanliness, bathing and odours from history, and some of them never cease to shock, like this one:
"Shortly before Louis XIV died in 1715, a new ordinance decreed that feces left in the corridors of Versailles would be removed once a week." Page 116
Once a week! In addition to immersing the reader in the moral dangers of bathing and bathing in public, it was also interesting to read about the debate between cool and warm water bathing, with some of the opinion that warm baths made boys and men soft.
"But cool water had never been considered as dangerous as hot water. To immerse yourself in hot water, you had to be foolhardy, German - or ill. ... Because water could infiltrate a healthy body and disturb the balance of its humours, doctors and patients hoped that a carefully designed and monitored bath might also restore the humours' equilibrium in a diseased body." Page 114
It's unthinkable to us to wear the same singlet or underwear for a week without changing or even removing it, but in the 1700s, the Marquis d'Argens wore a flannel under-waistcoat to keep warm and wouldn't take it off for fear of catching cold. It was revealed he'd worn the waistcoat for four years, but when he finally agreed to take it off, it had "so fixed itself upon him that pieces of his skin came away with it." Page 127 Eeek!
Ashenburg examines how our notion of privacy has changed, the relationship between bathing and sex and she even makes the history of soap absorbing for the reader. Although I wouldn't want to try washing clothes with a mix of animal fats and ashes. Later, toilet soap was made with olive oil:
"...(where the soap made in Castile was so prized that eventually all fine white soap made with olive oil was called Castile soap), but it was a luxury and beyond the budgets of most people in the Middle Ages." Page 32
And did you know the brand name Palmolive came about because the soap they made contained a combination of palm oil and olive oil. Who knew!
The introduction of the rain bath, or shower as we know it today was a little dry - sorry, couldn't resist. Rain baths took off in America, however older dwellings in Europe took much longer to embrace the technology, as it had to be adapted to existing conditions. The rich were loath to change their habits, preferring to bathe in their rooms, and with servants to bring the water the impetus for change wasn't pressing. The poorer classes didn't have time to carry the volume of water, the fuel required to heat it in their homes or even a tub to sit in, and so the class divide remained, demarcated by cleanliness.
If you lived in Paris in 1819, you could have ordered a service called a bain a domicile:
"....bain a domicile, delivered to the client's house or apartment, even on the top floor, all the necessities of a bath - a tub, a robe and sheet, and hot, cold or tepid water as ordered. When the bath was over, everything was whisked away, including the water, which was usually removed by a hose..." Page 187
How's that? You could basically 'uber' a bath in 1819! Ashenburg covers a lot of ground, and the number of times I've recalled facts from this book since finishing it, has persuaded me to increase my star rating from 4 stars to a full five stars.
Let me leave you with Seneca describing the cacophony of noise he has to tolerate living above a bathhouse:
"Now imagine to yourself every type of sound which can make you sick of your ears: when hearty types are exercising by swinging dumbbells around - either working hard at it or pretending to - I hear their grunts, and then a sharp hissing whenever they let out the breath they've been holding. Or again, my attention is caught by someone who is content to relax under an ordinary massage and I hear the smack of a hand whacking his shoulders, the sound changing as the hand comes down flat or curved. If on top of all that there is a game-scorer beginning to call out the score, I've had it! Then there's the brawler, the thief caught in the act, the man who likes the sound of his voice in the bath, the folk who leap into the pool with an enormous splash. Besides those whose voices are, if nothing else, natural, think of the depilator constantly uttering his shrill and piercing cry to advertise his services: He is never silent except when plucking someone's armpits' and forcing him to yell instead. Then there are the various cries of the drink-seller; there's the sausage seller and the pastry-cook and all the eating-house pedlars, each marketing his wares with his own distinctive cry." Pages 41-42
Highly recommended!
Ashenburg explores many aspects of dirtiness, cleanliness and bathing and makes this observation early in the book:
"The archetypal link between dirt and guilt, and cleanliness and innocence, is built into our language - perhaps into our psyches. We talk about dirty jokes and laundering money." Page 8
In the Roman Empire, cleanliness was an important part of life, work and leisure, with many Romans spending up to two hours at the public baths every day. The use of strigils - a curved blade used to scrape the skin - as part of the ancient greek bathing process wasn't new to me, but get this:
"Greek athletes, who exercised in the nude - gymnasium literally means 'the naked place' - first oiled their bodies and covered them with a thin layer of dust or sand to prevent chills. After [exercise] the men and boys removed their oil and dust, now mingled with sweat with a curved metal scraper called a strigil." Page 24
I knew athletes competed nude and oiled their bodies after bathing, but didn't know they applied dust or sand to prevent them getting cold; or the meaning of gymnasium for that matter! A little later in the book, we learn:
"The accumulated sweat, dirt and oil that a famous athlete or gladiator strigiled off himself was sold to his fans in small vials. Some Roman women reportedly used it as a face cream." Page 38
While this might make us recoil with disgust, it's really no different to social media influencers today selling their bath water or sending their socks to eager fans willing to pay big bucks.
It's fascinating to me that personal hygiene habits and attitudes to bathing have changed so dramatically over time. From the bathhouse traditions that date from the Middle Ages, Ashenburg gives us a broad overview of the relationship between cleanliness and religion. Muslims perform ritual ablutions and their cleanliness has been one of the culturally defining points of difference between Christians and Muslims. If the Muslims were meticulously clean, then the Christians were known for being dirty. When it comes to saints though, the dirtier the better.
"For ordinary Christians, cleanliness was a [sic] good, bringing comfort, a sense of well-being and a measure of healthfulness. Humility and charity demanded that the most scrupulously filthy saints help others to clean." Page 63
It's ironic that human suffering, poverty, abstinence and lack of washing demonstrated religious devotion with many only washing the parts of the body that could be seen, like the hands and face.
During many plagues, it was thought dirt blocked the pores of the skin which prevented the plague entering the human body. Washing or having a bath would strip a person of this protective layer and many were certain they'd die as a result. A shortage of firewood also contributed to the decline in popularity for bathing, as resources to heat water became scarcer.
Many will know the famous quote from Elizabeth I who bathed once a month, "whether I need it or not", but did you know:
"Elizabeth's successor, James I, reportedly washed only his fingers." Page 99
Ashenburg includes many familiar and well worn quotes about cleanliness, bathing and odours from history, and some of them never cease to shock, like this one:
"Shortly before Louis XIV died in 1715, a new ordinance decreed that feces left in the corridors of Versailles would be removed once a week." Page 116
Once a week! In addition to immersing the reader in the moral dangers of bathing and bathing in public, it was also interesting to read about the debate between cool and warm water bathing, with some of the opinion that warm baths made boys and men soft.
"But cool water had never been considered as dangerous as hot water. To immerse yourself in hot water, you had to be foolhardy, German - or ill. ... Because water could infiltrate a healthy body and disturb the balance of its humours, doctors and patients hoped that a carefully designed and monitored bath might also restore the humours' equilibrium in a diseased body." Page 114
It's unthinkable to us to wear the same singlet or underwear for a week without changing or even removing it, but in the 1700s, the Marquis d'Argens wore a flannel under-waistcoat to keep warm and wouldn't take it off for fear of catching cold. It was revealed he'd worn the waistcoat for four years, but when he finally agreed to take it off, it had "so fixed itself upon him that pieces of his skin came away with it." Page 127 Eeek!
Ashenburg examines how our notion of privacy has changed, the relationship between bathing and sex and she even makes the history of soap absorbing for the reader. Although I wouldn't want to try washing clothes with a mix of animal fats and ashes. Later, toilet soap was made with olive oil:
"...(where the soap made in Castile was so prized that eventually all fine white soap made with olive oil was called Castile soap), but it was a luxury and beyond the budgets of most people in the Middle Ages." Page 32
And did you know the brand name Palmolive came about because the soap they made contained a combination of palm oil and olive oil. Who knew!
The introduction of the rain bath, or shower as we know it today was a little dry - sorry, couldn't resist. Rain baths took off in America, however older dwellings in Europe took much longer to embrace the technology, as it had to be adapted to existing conditions. The rich were loath to change their habits, preferring to bathe in their rooms, and with servants to bring the water the impetus for change wasn't pressing. The poorer classes didn't have time to carry the volume of water, the fuel required to heat it in their homes or even a tub to sit in, and so the class divide remained, demarcated by cleanliness.
If you lived in Paris in 1819, you could have ordered a service called a bain a domicile:
"....bain a domicile, delivered to the client's house or apartment, even on the top floor, all the necessities of a bath - a tub, a robe and sheet, and hot, cold or tepid water as ordered. When the bath was over, everything was whisked away, including the water, which was usually removed by a hose..." Page 187
How's that? You could basically 'uber' a bath in 1819! Ashenburg covers a lot of ground, and the number of times I've recalled facts from this book since finishing it, has persuaded me to increase my star rating from 4 stars to a full five stars.
Let me leave you with Seneca describing the cacophony of noise he has to tolerate living above a bathhouse:
"Now imagine to yourself every type of sound which can make you sick of your ears: when hearty types are exercising by swinging dumbbells around - either working hard at it or pretending to - I hear their grunts, and then a sharp hissing whenever they let out the breath they've been holding. Or again, my attention is caught by someone who is content to relax under an ordinary massage and I hear the smack of a hand whacking his shoulders, the sound changing as the hand comes down flat or curved. If on top of all that there is a game-scorer beginning to call out the score, I've had it! Then there's the brawler, the thief caught in the act, the man who likes the sound of his voice in the bath, the folk who leap into the pool with an enormous splash. Besides those whose voices are, if nothing else, natural, think of the depilator constantly uttering his shrill and piercing cry to advertise his services: He is never silent except when plucking someone's armpits' and forcing him to yell instead. Then there are the various cries of the drink-seller; there's the sausage seller and the pastry-cook and all the eating-house pedlars, each marketing his wares with his own distinctive cry." Pages 41-42
Highly recommended!
June 21, 2025
Pirmas sakinys: Šiuolaikiniam šiaurės amerikiečiui esi "švarus", jei maudaisi po dušu ir purškiesi dezodorantu kiekvieną mielą dieną be išimties.
Iš kanadiečių autorės knygos apie Vakarų civilizacijos švarinimosi kultūrą daug naujo nesužinojau, tačiau gavau tvarkingai sudėliotą medžiagą:
• graikai vandenį vertino: maudydavosi, kad būtų švarūs (t. y. sveiki) – po kelionių, mankštos, darbų. Naudojo ir praustuvus, ir dušus, ir pirtis.
• romėnai vandenį dievino: jų pirčių kompleksai tapo įspūdingais architektūros ir technologijų pavydžiais. Pirtyse "buvo teikiamos įvairios paslaugos, kurias kitose visuomenėse, ir mūsų taip pat, galima gauti kavinėse, miestų aikštėse, klubuose, sporto salėse, užmiesčio klubuose ir SPA centruose." (41 p) Romėnų "pirtys priimdavo vyrus ir moteris, vergus ir laisvuosius žmones, turtingus ir vargšus." (40 p.)
• 200-1000 m. pirtys iš esmės išnyko, tačiau higienos poreikis – ne. Tiesa, Jėzaus mokymas ir atsainus požiūris į apsiplovimą kaip maištas prieš ritualinį apsivalymą atvedė tai, kad "Krikščionybės santykis su kūnu, vadinasi, ir švara, buvo sudėtingas. Palankiai nusiteikę krikščionys kūną laikė Dievo šventove. <...> Kita vertus, kūno pagundų galimybės žadino krikščionių įtarumą ir netgi priešiškumą." (60 p.) Todėl "suveikė du standartai: vienas – radikalus asketizmas, kitas – paprastas supratimas, kad gyvename turėdami kūną, kuriuo reikia rūpintis ir bent kiek prižiūrėti. Paniekindami savo pačių kūnus Olimpija, Radegunda, kiti pirmieji šventieji pripažino, kad toks pasirinkimas – ne kiekvienam. Paprastiems krikščionims švara buvo gėris, teikiantis paguodą, geros savijautos ir sveikatos pojūtį. O nuolankumas ir geradarystė reikalavo, kad patys purviniausi šventieji kitiems padėtų būti švariems." (64 p.) Aptariamu laikotarpiu švariausi buvo vienuolynai, žydų kvartalai (nes judėjų religija turi griežtas taisykles dėl švaros) ir arabiškoji Ispanija (irgi dėl tikėjimo – šiuo atveju musulmonų).
• 1000-1550 m. "riteriškos meilės ir aristokratiškų manierų idėjos dėmesį kreipė į asmens patrauklumą, kurį nulemdavo švara." (77 p.) Grįžo viešosios pirtys. Vienur vyrai su moterimis maudydavosi atskirai, kitur – kartu. Vienose šalyse nesidrovėjo nuogo kūno, kitur maudydavosi su drabužiais. Po truputį keitėsi elgesys pirtyse: nuo flirto, svetimavimo iki profesionalių sekso paslaugų vietų.
• 1550-1750 m. yra purviniausi Europos istorijoje. Nes prasiautę marai sukūrė vandens baimę – žmonės didžiavosi, kad niekada gyvenime neprausė veido. Tais laikais klestėjo drobės ir rankšluosčiai – dažniausiai drėgni. Nors valstiečiai ir miestiečiai braidžiojo ir plaukiodavo upėse, prausdavosi pirtyse.
• 1750-1815 m. mineralinių vandenų kurortai reabilituoja vandenį.
• 1815-1900 m. įsivedinėjami vonios kambariai (vonios, dušai, klozetai su nuleidžiamu vandeniu): Europa – po truputį (nes reikia perstatyti namus, be to, iššūkių kelia vamzdynų tiesimas gatvėse), o JAV – visu greičiu (polinkis į naujoves ir galimybė jas taikyti – nauji miestai, nauji pastatai). Gerinamos vargšų sanitarinės sąlygos (viešosios skalbyklos, pirtys, dušinės + švietimas), tačiau skurdžiausi visuomenės sluoksniai vis dar tiki purvo galiomis.
• 1900-1970 m.: atpinga muilo gamyba, atsiranda įvairių jo rūšių. Švaros priemonių (muilas, dezodorantai, burnos skalavimo skysčiai) reklama (ne visada etiška ir teisinga) skatina intensyvų vartojimą: viskas tam, kad nuslopinti, pašalinti, užgožti natūralų kūno kvapą.
• Nuo 1970 m. keičiasi požiūris į higieną: mikrobai yra, bus ir jų reikia, tačiau klausimas – kokių ir kiek.
Pagrindinis trūkumas: knyga yra europocentristinė (Europa ir nuo XIX a. – JAV). Kitos kultūros paminimos tik tiek, kiek jos atsiliepia apie Europą (dažniausiai jos nešvarą).
Vienas pastebėjimas: knyga pasirodė 2007 m., todėl COVID-19 ir naujausių tendencijų joje nėra, tačiau neatrodo, kad būtų labai pasenusi.
Reziumė: "<...> vienintelė švarinimosi praktika, kurią kanonizavo šiuolaikinis mokslas, niekada nebuvo išėjusi iš mados – rankų mazgojimas buvo įžanga į maldą, simbolizavo pagarbą bei civilizuotumą ir buvo kasdienė įprasta veiklas: rankas plaudavo ir Homero personažai, Viduramžių riteriai bei damos ir XVII amžiaus žmonės, kurie nesiprausdavo jokios kūno dalies." (207 p.)
P. S. Ne mens sana in corpore sano (27 p.), o orandum est ut sit mens sana in corpore sano:"Reikia melsti dievų, kad sveika siela būtų sveikame kūne." Beje, romėnams buvo žinomas ir dar kitoks frazės variantas: "Sveika siela retai būna sveikame kūne." Taigi, pirminė posakio prasmė: reikia siekti kūno ir sielos sveikatos, nes sveikas kūnas dar neužtikrina sielos sveikumo. Deja, mūsų dienomis frazė dažnai suvokiama tiesiogiai: esą reikia lavinti kūną, o sielos sveikata atsiras savaime." ("Šiaurės Atėnai", 2014-11-11, "Apie sparnuotų posakių kilmę").
3.7/5✰
Iš kanadiečių autorės knygos apie Vakarų civilizacijos švarinimosi kultūrą daug naujo nesužinojau, tačiau gavau tvarkingai sudėliotą medžiagą:
• graikai vandenį vertino: maudydavosi, kad būtų švarūs (t. y. sveiki) – po kelionių, mankštos, darbų. Naudojo ir praustuvus, ir dušus, ir pirtis.
• romėnai vandenį dievino: jų pirčių kompleksai tapo įspūdingais architektūros ir technologijų pavydžiais. Pirtyse "buvo teikiamos įvairios paslaugos, kurias kitose visuomenėse, ir mūsų taip pat, galima gauti kavinėse, miestų aikštėse, klubuose, sporto salėse, užmiesčio klubuose ir SPA centruose." (41 p) Romėnų "pirtys priimdavo vyrus ir moteris, vergus ir laisvuosius žmones, turtingus ir vargšus." (40 p.)
• 200-1000 m. pirtys iš esmės išnyko, tačiau higienos poreikis – ne. Tiesa, Jėzaus mokymas ir atsainus požiūris į apsiplovimą kaip maištas prieš ritualinį apsivalymą atvedė tai, kad "Krikščionybės santykis su kūnu, vadinasi, ir švara, buvo sudėtingas. Palankiai nusiteikę krikščionys kūną laikė Dievo šventove. <...> Kita vertus, kūno pagundų galimybės žadino krikščionių įtarumą ir netgi priešiškumą." (60 p.) Todėl "suveikė du standartai: vienas – radikalus asketizmas, kitas – paprastas supratimas, kad gyvename turėdami kūną, kuriuo reikia rūpintis ir bent kiek prižiūrėti. Paniekindami savo pačių kūnus Olimpija, Radegunda, kiti pirmieji šventieji pripažino, kad toks pasirinkimas – ne kiekvienam. Paprastiems krikščionims švara buvo gėris, teikiantis paguodą, geros savijautos ir sveikatos pojūtį. O nuolankumas ir geradarystė reikalavo, kad patys purviniausi šventieji kitiems padėtų būti švariems." (64 p.) Aptariamu laikotarpiu švariausi buvo vienuolynai, žydų kvartalai (nes judėjų religija turi griežtas taisykles dėl švaros) ir arabiškoji Ispanija (irgi dėl tikėjimo – šiuo atveju musulmonų).
• 1000-1550 m. "riteriškos meilės ir aristokratiškų manierų idėjos dėmesį kreipė į asmens patrauklumą, kurį nulemdavo švara." (77 p.) Grįžo viešosios pirtys. Vienur vyrai su moterimis maudydavosi atskirai, kitur – kartu. Vienose šalyse nesidrovėjo nuogo kūno, kitur maudydavosi su drabužiais. Po truputį keitėsi elgesys pirtyse: nuo flirto, svetimavimo iki profesionalių sekso paslaugų vietų.
• 1550-1750 m. yra purviniausi Europos istorijoje. Nes prasiautę marai sukūrė vandens baimę – žmonės didžiavosi, kad niekada gyvenime neprausė veido. Tais laikais klestėjo drobės ir rankšluosčiai – dažniausiai drėgni. Nors valstiečiai ir miestiečiai braidžiojo ir plaukiodavo upėse, prausdavosi pirtyse.
• 1750-1815 m. mineralinių vandenų kurortai reabilituoja vandenį.
• 1815-1900 m. įsivedinėjami vonios kambariai (vonios, dušai, klozetai su nuleidžiamu vandeniu): Europa – po truputį (nes reikia perstatyti namus, be to, iššūkių kelia vamzdynų tiesimas gatvėse), o JAV – visu greičiu (polinkis į naujoves ir galimybė jas taikyti – nauji miestai, nauji pastatai). Gerinamos vargšų sanitarinės sąlygos (viešosios skalbyklos, pirtys, dušinės + švietimas), tačiau skurdžiausi visuomenės sluoksniai vis dar tiki purvo galiomis.
• 1900-1970 m.: atpinga muilo gamyba, atsiranda įvairių jo rūšių. Švaros priemonių (muilas, dezodorantai, burnos skalavimo skysčiai) reklama (ne visada etiška ir teisinga) skatina intensyvų vartojimą: viskas tam, kad nuslopinti, pašalinti, užgožti natūralų kūno kvapą.
• Nuo 1970 m. keičiasi požiūris į higieną: mikrobai yra, bus ir jų reikia, tačiau klausimas – kokių ir kiek.
Pagrindinis trūkumas: knyga yra europocentristinė (Europa ir nuo XIX a. – JAV). Kitos kultūros paminimos tik tiek, kiek jos atsiliepia apie Europą (dažniausiai jos nešvarą).
Vienas pastebėjimas: knyga pasirodė 2007 m., todėl COVID-19 ir naujausių tendencijų joje nėra, tačiau neatrodo, kad būtų labai pasenusi.
Reziumė: "<...> vienintelė švarinimosi praktika, kurią kanonizavo šiuolaikinis mokslas, niekada nebuvo išėjusi iš mados – rankų mazgojimas buvo įžanga į maldą, simbolizavo pagarbą bei civilizuotumą ir buvo kasdienė įprasta veiklas: rankas plaudavo ir Homero personažai, Viduramžių riteriai bei damos ir XVII amžiaus žmonės, kurie nesiprausdavo jokios kūno dalies." (207 p.)
P. S. Ne mens sana in corpore sano (27 p.), o orandum est ut sit mens sana in corpore sano:"Reikia melsti dievų, kad sveika siela būtų sveikame kūne." Beje, romėnams buvo žinomas ir dar kitoks frazės variantas: "Sveika siela retai būna sveikame kūne." Taigi, pirminė posakio prasmė: reikia siekti kūno ir sielos sveikatos, nes sveikas kūnas dar neužtikrina sielos sveikumo. Deja, mūsų dienomis frazė dažnai suvokiama tiesiogiai: esą reikia lavinti kūną, o sielos sveikata atsiras savaime." ("Šiaurės Atėnai", 2014-11-11, "Apie sparnuotų posakių kilmę").
3.7/5✰
June 4, 2018
very interesting history of hygiene in western society, from Ancient Greece through to present day America. people's ideas of what 'clean' means, and how to achieve it, have varied considerably over time, and the author takes us cheerfully through the centuries explaining the various ways people have made themselves clean to satisfy the standards of their own era. IT is clear for example that, contrary to popular belief, medieval Europeans were quite keen on bathing. the only point at which I think she fails to be entirely satisfactory is her dismissal of the early modern belief that changing your linen frequently was a good way of keeping clean, since linen absorbs dirt and sweat. She does not seem to have investigated whether this actually works or not, although Ruth Goodman, who had actually tried it, maintains that it does (see How to be a Tudor). A fascinating book packed with information.
September 29, 2024
Entertaining light nonfiction. Perfect to read while riding on the subway. I could pick it up and put it down without worrying about losing the flow of the book. I enjoy reading history, especially about daily life in the past. So much of history focuses on politics and war. Zzzzzzzz. Give me the history of something we all experience instead - like the subject of this book, bathing!
I kept thinking this must have been such a fun book to research. She managed to find a lot of funny stories and interesting tidbits. She mainly focuses on Europe and only occasionally references Asia, more as a clean contrast to dirty Europe. Once America shows up on the scene, she discusses the history of cleanliness there too.
Will this book amaze you? Change your life? No, and that's ok. What it will do is teach you some fun facts and hold your interest.
Random Facts I Highlighted:
A basic Roman bathhouse needed a warm room, a hot room and a cold room. More elaborate ones might include a chamber with intense dry heat, and a separate chamber for oiling and massage. A special scraping room and an open-air swimming pool were also possibilities, but these were frills. Nice! They knew how to do it right!
In the Baths of Trajan, the central bath block was surrounded by a perimeter of buildings that included club rooms, libraries, lecture halls and exercise rooms. It was a virtual village, the most complete bath domain Rome had seen. Go google photos of the ruins of this bath. It is astounding, how large it was. It must have been so impressive.
The poet Martial was a few generations younger than Seneca, born in about A.D. 40, and less inclined to berate his era for self-indulgence. He's an unflaggingly racy guide to the baths, with his own satirical hobbyhorses-chiefly social climbing and sex, Putting this here to remind myself to go find and read this book by Martial.
Christianity's unconcern with cleanliness is unusual among world religions...Jesus scandalized the Pharisees, one of the strictest groups when it came to ritual purification, by belittling one of their central practices, washing their hands before eating. Mark's gospel describes their dismay when Jesus' disciples eat bread with unwashed hands...St. Jerome (ca. 340-420), shrank even from the most virtuous private baths...bathing was suspect because it might provoke a young woman's interest in her appearance.
The town bath in Teruel (Spain) followed a typical pattern, being reserved for men on three days of the week, for women on two and for Jews and Muslims of both sexes at different hours on Friday.
The admission fee was low, and children and servants bathed free. Healthy and progressive as these arrangements sound, to the Christians they were decadent and damnable.
'foul smell' came to represent Christian godliness, and many of the saints are pictured sitting in their own excrement."
For roughly five hundred years, water had furnished comfort, pleasure, companionship, temptation-and cleanliness. Now, on much of the Continent, water was the enemy, to be avoided at all costs. The two centuries that followed Erasmus' lament would be among the dirtiest in the history of Europe.
On a spring day in 1610, King Henri IV sent an emissary to the Paris house of the Duc de Sully, the superintendent of finances, requesting his presence at the Louvre. To everyone's consternation, Sully was taking a bath. He prepared at once to obey the royal summons, but his attendants begged him not to risk his health by going outside. Even the messenger was against it, saying, "Monsieur, do not quit your bath, since I fear that the king cares so much for your health, and so depends on it, that if he had known that you were in such a situation, he would have come here himself." "Such a situation"-a man taking a bath in his house-required the messenger to return to the Louvre to explain the complication to the king. Not inclined to treat this predicament lightly, the king, in his turn, consulted his own doctor, André Du Laurens. The doctor pronounced that the man would be vulnerable for several days after his bath. Sully was told, "Monsieur, the king commands you to complete your bath, and forbids you to go out today, since M. Du Laurens has advised him that this would endanger your health. He orders you to expect him tomorrow in your night-shirt, your leggings, your slippers and your night-cap, so that you come to no harm as a result of your recent bath." Normally, His Majesty did not travel to his ministers' houses, nor did he order them to receive him in their nightclothes-but a bath was no normal occurrence. HA! I love stories like this. The book is full of them.
I kept thinking this must have been such a fun book to research. She managed to find a lot of funny stories and interesting tidbits. She mainly focuses on Europe and only occasionally references Asia, more as a clean contrast to dirty Europe. Once America shows up on the scene, she discusses the history of cleanliness there too.
Will this book amaze you? Change your life? No, and that's ok. What it will do is teach you some fun facts and hold your interest.
Random Facts I Highlighted:
A basic Roman bathhouse needed a warm room, a hot room and a cold room. More elaborate ones might include a chamber with intense dry heat, and a separate chamber for oiling and massage. A special scraping room and an open-air swimming pool were also possibilities, but these were frills. Nice! They knew how to do it right!
In the Baths of Trajan, the central bath block was surrounded by a perimeter of buildings that included club rooms, libraries, lecture halls and exercise rooms. It was a virtual village, the most complete bath domain Rome had seen. Go google photos of the ruins of this bath. It is astounding, how large it was. It must have been so impressive.
The poet Martial was a few generations younger than Seneca, born in about A.D. 40, and less inclined to berate his era for self-indulgence. He's an unflaggingly racy guide to the baths, with his own satirical hobbyhorses-chiefly social climbing and sex, Putting this here to remind myself to go find and read this book by Martial.
Christianity's unconcern with cleanliness is unusual among world religions...Jesus scandalized the Pharisees, one of the strictest groups when it came to ritual purification, by belittling one of their central practices, washing their hands before eating. Mark's gospel describes their dismay when Jesus' disciples eat bread with unwashed hands...St. Jerome (ca. 340-420), shrank even from the most virtuous private baths...bathing was suspect because it might provoke a young woman's interest in her appearance.
The town bath in Teruel (Spain) followed a typical pattern, being reserved for men on three days of the week, for women on two and for Jews and Muslims of both sexes at different hours on Friday.
The admission fee was low, and children and servants bathed free. Healthy and progressive as these arrangements sound, to the Christians they were decadent and damnable.
'foul smell' came to represent Christian godliness, and many of the saints are pictured sitting in their own excrement."
For roughly five hundred years, water had furnished comfort, pleasure, companionship, temptation-and cleanliness. Now, on much of the Continent, water was the enemy, to be avoided at all costs. The two centuries that followed Erasmus' lament would be among the dirtiest in the history of Europe.
On a spring day in 1610, King Henri IV sent an emissary to the Paris house of the Duc de Sully, the superintendent of finances, requesting his presence at the Louvre. To everyone's consternation, Sully was taking a bath. He prepared at once to obey the royal summons, but his attendants begged him not to risk his health by going outside. Even the messenger was against it, saying, "Monsieur, do not quit your bath, since I fear that the king cares so much for your health, and so depends on it, that if he had known that you were in such a situation, he would have come here himself." "Such a situation"-a man taking a bath in his house-required the messenger to return to the Louvre to explain the complication to the king. Not inclined to treat this predicament lightly, the king, in his turn, consulted his own doctor, André Du Laurens. The doctor pronounced that the man would be vulnerable for several days after his bath. Sully was told, "Monsieur, the king commands you to complete your bath, and forbids you to go out today, since M. Du Laurens has advised him that this would endanger your health. He orders you to expect him tomorrow in your night-shirt, your leggings, your slippers and your night-cap, so that you come to no harm as a result of your recent bath." Normally, His Majesty did not travel to his ministers' houses, nor did he order them to receive him in their nightclothes-but a bath was no normal occurrence. HA! I love stories like this. The book is full of them.
August 18, 2017
Every age thinks that its own attitude to cleanliness is the "normal" one. Modern Europeans and Americans think that it's normal to shower daily and apply deodorant. Other ages had different ideas.
Ancient Romans thought it was normal to spend hours in the public baths, using no soap but scraping sweat and dirt off their bodies. Early medieval Europe had public baths which were used regularly, but these disappeared after the Black Death. Elizabeth I and Samuel Pepys lived in an age when bathing too much was thought bad for the health; those bewigged courtiers probably reeked, but "when all stink, no-one smells". The phrase "the great unwashed" could not have existed before the 19th century, when the rich started bathing on a regular basis and the comparative dirtiness of the poor became evident. In the 1920s, advertisers strove to convince women that they could never find and keep a husband without the correct hygiene products (the phrase "always a bridesmaid, never a bride" was invented by Lysterine), although previous generations managed to have a healthy love life despite their stinkiness.
Ashenberg has written a fascinating history, outlining the changing attitudes to cleanliness and hygiene from Roman times to the modern day. She holds a mirror up to history and to our own day, when an overemphasis on squeaky-cleanness may be contributing to allergies and ill health (the "hygiene hypothesis"). The scope is limited to Europe and North America, except for a brief comment about the different attitudes of Muslim and Japanese people, but with that one caveat I would recommend this as an entertaining and informative read.
Ancient Romans thought it was normal to spend hours in the public baths, using no soap but scraping sweat and dirt off their bodies. Early medieval Europe had public baths which were used regularly, but these disappeared after the Black Death. Elizabeth I and Samuel Pepys lived in an age when bathing too much was thought bad for the health; those bewigged courtiers probably reeked, but "when all stink, no-one smells". The phrase "the great unwashed" could not have existed before the 19th century, when the rich started bathing on a regular basis and the comparative dirtiness of the poor became evident. In the 1920s, advertisers strove to convince women that they could never find and keep a husband without the correct hygiene products (the phrase "always a bridesmaid, never a bride" was invented by Lysterine), although previous generations managed to have a healthy love life despite their stinkiness.
Ashenberg has written a fascinating history, outlining the changing attitudes to cleanliness and hygiene from Roman times to the modern day. She holds a mirror up to history and to our own day, when an overemphasis on squeaky-cleanness may be contributing to allergies and ill health (the "hygiene hypothesis"). The scope is limited to Europe and North America, except for a brief comment about the different attitudes of Muslim and Japanese people, but with that one caveat I would recommend this as an entertaining and informative read.
September 2, 2019
A historical romp. I enjoyed it. Big picture of personal cleanliness. I learned somethings about American history I did not know about. I never before knew that American cities had bathhouses.
June 29, 2011
Emerging squeaky clean after a shower where I lathered my hair with vanilla-scented shampoo and conditioner, scrubbed every inch of my body with J&J milk body wash, and rinsed off everything with soothing warm water, I often used to wonder how our ancestors did without the conveniences of soap, showers, or toilet paper.
How did they get by without deodorant? Without toothbrushes or toothpaste? How did they clean their backsides and how did they banish unpleasant odors away?
Fortunately for me, Katherine Ashenburg had done the research to answer my burning questions. The Dirt on Clean: An Unsanitized History chronicles the history of washing in the Western world from Roman times to present.
The short answer? Humanity did without soap and deodorant for millenia. But did they wash their bodies? It depends on the religion, country, and time period. The early Greeks and Romans were very well washed but didn't use soap. Instead they used a metal implement called a strigil to scrape off dirt. Muslims and Jews were required by religious law to wash. Christian Europe, on the other hand, shunned washing for centuries.
Christian saints and mystics, who associated the Roman practice of bathing with hedonism, never washed at all. Abbessa Paula, friend to St. Jerome, said: 'A clean body and a clean dress mean an unclean soul.' The familiar adage 'Cleanliness is next to Godliness. wouldn't come until many centuries later.
Throughout medieval Christian Europe, bathing was something to be feared and suspected. Most people took a bath only once a year -- royalty even less. Taking a bath was so dangerous kings only took one upon doctor's advice and with an excess of precaution. For kings and nobles, the crux of cleanliness was in washing the hands and changing into a clean linen shirt everyday. They covered the dirt on their bodies with makeup, powdered wigs, and flamboyant dresses. Dirt and bodily secretions were considered protective and healthy. Washing and soaking the body, no. Bad breath, body odor, lice, and fleas were the order for the day.
Yecchhh. Which brings another question: How could they bear to have sex with each other? Ashenburg writes: " In fact, there's no evidence that the birth rate ever fell because people were too smelly for copulation."
Yes, people most definitely smelled. But in a world where everyone smells the same, no one would know the difference.
In fact, fastidiousness in cleanliness and keeping odors at bay is a very recent introduction. It took root around the latter half of the 20th century thanks to the efforts of soap and deodorant advertisers. All of a sudden, young men and women the world over were terrorized thinking they could be losing jobs, sabotaging relationships, and offending others with their body odor -- without even knowing it!
And so in less than a hundred years the evolution of personal hygiene, at least in the developed world, has made a 360-degree turn. But heightened cleanliness with the advent of antibacterial soaps, constant handwashing, and sanitized environments has brought about an unexpected result: highly resistant strains of bacteria have emerged, and people's immune systems are getting weaker. Have we become too clean?
It's evident from many of my Japanese friends who experienced severe diarrhea simply from taking a sip of Philippine tap water, the same tap water that millions of Filipinos drink daily. One even had a severe case of food poisoning after eating raw salad from a buffet at Manila Hotel! Clearly Japanese immune systems, used to high levels of cleanliness in food handling and preparation (perishable goods expire mere hours after production based on the stamped date) are poorly equipped to handle the myriad bacteria present in our food and water.
My favorite lines from the book are Ashenburg's arguments that "Clean is a moving target" (Cleanliness is relative. What might be considered clean today might not be tomorrow) and that "The nose is adaptable and teachable." (No, I don't think we can do much about our brother Bumbays/Kenyans/Arabs except live with their natural odor). As for myself, my only argument is this: If we Filipinos paid half as much attention to the cleanliness of our surroundings as we do our bodies, imagine what a much better place our country could be.
Rating: 4.5 stars, because I hoped for more coverage on Asia and Ashenberg never mentioned anything about backside hygiene. To compensate, she has references to hygiene practices (or lack thereof) down there.
How did they get by without deodorant? Without toothbrushes or toothpaste? How did they clean their backsides and how did they banish unpleasant odors away?
Fortunately for me, Katherine Ashenburg had done the research to answer my burning questions. The Dirt on Clean: An Unsanitized History chronicles the history of washing in the Western world from Roman times to present.
The short answer? Humanity did without soap and deodorant for millenia. But did they wash their bodies? It depends on the religion, country, and time period. The early Greeks and Romans were very well washed but didn't use soap. Instead they used a metal implement called a strigil to scrape off dirt. Muslims and Jews were required by religious law to wash. Christian Europe, on the other hand, shunned washing for centuries.
Christian saints and mystics, who associated the Roman practice of bathing with hedonism, never washed at all. Abbessa Paula, friend to St. Jerome, said: 'A clean body and a clean dress mean an unclean soul.' The familiar adage 'Cleanliness is next to Godliness. wouldn't come until many centuries later.
Throughout medieval Christian Europe, bathing was something to be feared and suspected. Most people took a bath only once a year -- royalty even less. Taking a bath was so dangerous kings only took one upon doctor's advice and with an excess of precaution. For kings and nobles, the crux of cleanliness was in washing the hands and changing into a clean linen shirt everyday. They covered the dirt on their bodies with makeup, powdered wigs, and flamboyant dresses. Dirt and bodily secretions were considered protective and healthy. Washing and soaking the body, no. Bad breath, body odor, lice, and fleas were the order for the day.
Yecchhh. Which brings another question: How could they bear to have sex with each other? Ashenburg writes: " In fact, there's no evidence that the birth rate ever fell because people were too smelly for copulation."
Yes, people most definitely smelled. But in a world where everyone smells the same, no one would know the difference.
In fact, fastidiousness in cleanliness and keeping odors at bay is a very recent introduction. It took root around the latter half of the 20th century thanks to the efforts of soap and deodorant advertisers. All of a sudden, young men and women the world over were terrorized thinking they could be losing jobs, sabotaging relationships, and offending others with their body odor -- without even knowing it!
And so in less than a hundred years the evolution of personal hygiene, at least in the developed world, has made a 360-degree turn. But heightened cleanliness with the advent of antibacterial soaps, constant handwashing, and sanitized environments has brought about an unexpected result: highly resistant strains of bacteria have emerged, and people's immune systems are getting weaker. Have we become too clean?
It's evident from many of my Japanese friends who experienced severe diarrhea simply from taking a sip of Philippine tap water, the same tap water that millions of Filipinos drink daily. One even had a severe case of food poisoning after eating raw salad from a buffet at Manila Hotel! Clearly Japanese immune systems, used to high levels of cleanliness in food handling and preparation (perishable goods expire mere hours after production based on the stamped date) are poorly equipped to handle the myriad bacteria present in our food and water.
My favorite lines from the book are Ashenburg's arguments that "Clean is a moving target" (Cleanliness is relative. What might be considered clean today might not be tomorrow) and that "The nose is adaptable and teachable." (No, I don't think we can do much about our brother Bumbays/Kenyans/Arabs except live with their natural odor). As for myself, my only argument is this: If we Filipinos paid half as much attention to the cleanliness of our surroundings as we do our bodies, imagine what a much better place our country could be.
Rating: 4.5 stars, because I hoped for more coverage on Asia and Ashenberg never mentioned anything about backside hygiene. To compensate, she has references to hygiene practices (or lack thereof) down there.
November 24, 2014
I loved this book. It temporarily fed the insatiable curiosity that I never quite grew out of. I'm the sort to stop suddenly while in the shower to wonder how the notions of indoor plumbing or soap came about. I'm always intrigued about how cultural systems and perspectives develop and how each is influenced by others.
The focus of this book is primarily Europe, and given the diverse practices even on that one continent, I think it would be hard to broaden the scope much further in one volume. Influences from other countries and consequent influences on North America are noted, but it's busy enough covering such a broad range of history, cultures, and geography. It describes the virtues or horrors (depending upon the place and time) of bathing in hot water, bathing in cold water, bathing in lukewarm water, or bathing at all, especially if it involved body parts that aren't generally seen. It brings up an interesting chicken-egg what-came-first musing for me: do clothing patterns determine bathing patterns or did bathing constraints determine clothing styles?
The book is full of interesting quotes, paintings, and ads. I tried to keep the various beliefs over time about the sanctity or fears of a full immersion bath in my head while browsing through an art museum yesterday. For some, to go without bathing was to show piety and humility. For others, bathing frequently was to show a desire for holiness and purity. Where heating water was an extravagant use of fuel and privacy was limited, bathing in cold water was not a comfortable thing. Perhaps it’s not surprising that bathing in comfortable temperatures was often believed to sap people of strength or make them slothful. In the days before central heating, the tendency to linger in a warm bath probably happened whenever the opportunity allowed, and I haven’t the slightest doubt that those immersed instead in frigid water jumped out quite energetically as soon as possible. Even so, stories of those who spent four to six hours at a time in warm baths were pretty mind-boggling. I can't help but think they had nothing better to do once out.
For many of us, cultural notions of hygiene were determined quite a lot by various marketing campaigns of the last century or two, punctuated here and there by war and disease outbreak. It’s a little jarring, but perhaps not surprising, that what’s now held to be good health and the minimum of manners was born out of ad campaigns between competing 19th and 20th century soap or deodorant manufacturers. Ultimately, there are still the questions: what’s really necessary for good health, respect for those around us, and our own enjoyment? The book doesn’t pretend to give the final word, but rather gives us how various societies chose to answer.
The focus of this book is primarily Europe, and given the diverse practices even on that one continent, I think it would be hard to broaden the scope much further in one volume. Influences from other countries and consequent influences on North America are noted, but it's busy enough covering such a broad range of history, cultures, and geography. It describes the virtues or horrors (depending upon the place and time) of bathing in hot water, bathing in cold water, bathing in lukewarm water, or bathing at all, especially if it involved body parts that aren't generally seen. It brings up an interesting chicken-egg what-came-first musing for me: do clothing patterns determine bathing patterns or did bathing constraints determine clothing styles?
The book is full of interesting quotes, paintings, and ads. I tried to keep the various beliefs over time about the sanctity or fears of a full immersion bath in my head while browsing through an art museum yesterday. For some, to go without bathing was to show piety and humility. For others, bathing frequently was to show a desire for holiness and purity. Where heating water was an extravagant use of fuel and privacy was limited, bathing in cold water was not a comfortable thing. Perhaps it’s not surprising that bathing in comfortable temperatures was often believed to sap people of strength or make them slothful. In the days before central heating, the tendency to linger in a warm bath probably happened whenever the opportunity allowed, and I haven’t the slightest doubt that those immersed instead in frigid water jumped out quite energetically as soon as possible. Even so, stories of those who spent four to six hours at a time in warm baths were pretty mind-boggling. I can't help but think they had nothing better to do once out.
For many of us, cultural notions of hygiene were determined quite a lot by various marketing campaigns of the last century or two, punctuated here and there by war and disease outbreak. It’s a little jarring, but perhaps not surprising, that what’s now held to be good health and the minimum of manners was born out of ad campaigns between competing 19th and 20th century soap or deodorant manufacturers. Ultimately, there are still the questions: what’s really necessary for good health, respect for those around us, and our own enjoyment? The book doesn’t pretend to give the final word, but rather gives us how various societies chose to answer.
October 4, 2011
I foolishly neglect to take notes while reading this book, so I don't have precise dates, hilarious anecdotes and strange factoids to share. However, all of those things can be found within these pages! Engagingly gossipy, with a clear organizational structure, this was an easy to read introduction to the very broad subject of hygiene. The book focuses mostly on Western Europe, with some side notes and comparison to the Middle East, northern Africa, the US, and a few others. Basically what I got out of this was that just as we are taught in schools, the Roman Empire was a shining moment of cleanliness. Before and after (once the infrastructure of the pipes started to crumble), Europeans were dirty, bathing maybe once a year, and the rest of the world was rather disgusted and astounded by them. Common misconceptions were that water weakened the skin's defenses against diseases, and that wearing clean linen, not water, was the safest and most efficacious method of staying clean. Washing ones hands, face and sometimes feet was often the most even a hoity-toity type would do. Eventually soap became easier to make, less smelly, and more effective, and sanitation too improved, and Europeans started bathing more often. The author discusses how what counts as "clean" has changed throughout the ages and varies by place, as well, and mentions that perceived dirtiness is often a method of denoting us-vs-them against immigrants, minority groups, etc.
July 31, 2021
Ashenberg had the facts but none of the flair for storytelling. The whole book was in a linear chronology, so I expected a robust commentary on the shifting tides in our cultural mores. But nah. The book read like mindless fact-dumping: the Romans bathed this way; the medieval doctors said this; and then Americans made soap this way. Uh. How about more about what how they construct the savagery/civilisation binary? Or the connection between soap & soap opera? (Btw it was paid ad during radio shows that made people refer to melodrama as soap opera.) If you know European history even marginally, there isn’t anything new to find here.
December 8, 2007
An utterly fun book to read, this history of cleanliness starts in Rome, and brings us up to today. From the fear that a bath would make you gay, a bath would kill you, not having a bath would kill you, swimming in the ocean would kill you, a shower would kill you, and some steam would kill you, to the belief that not bathing every 24 hours will make you a social recluse, this book raises some intersting points about cleanliness and the lack thereof in our long history of soaking for hours, or only bathing at our baptism, marriage, and deathbed.
July 1, 2025
Maudynės, vynas ir seksas mūsų kūnus niokoja, betgi maudynės, vynas ir seksas – gyvenimo esmė. (I a. po Kr.).
Pirmu įspūdžiu ši knyga man priminė dar mokyklos laikais skaitytą „Kraupiosios istorijos“ seriją. 😂 Nedaug beatsimenu, tik kad, tos knygelės buvo 𝘸𝘰𝘸, lyginant su nuobodžiais istorijos vadovėliais, ir kad skaitydama jas daug juokiausi. Panašiai ir čia, nes kai kurie aprašomi papročiai, prietarai ir išradimai, mažų mažiausiai – privertė nusišypsoti. 🙃
Pagrindinė tema, kaip akivaizdu iš pavadinimo – švaros evoliucija. 🛁 Nuo senovės graikų laikų iki šiandieninio pasaulio tendencijų. Iki šiol žinojau tik tiek, kad romėnai dievino švarą ir pirtis, o viduramžių žmonės buvo baisiai nevalyvi. 😐 Juk kas Kristaus numazgotas (t. y., pakrikštytas vandeniu), tam nėra reikalo praustis. 🤭 Štai kodėl viduramžių vienuoliai maudydavosi tik dukart per metus. Ir tik XVIII–XIX a. vėl pradėta nedrąsiai akcentuoti švaros svarbą ir bandyta atsikratyti senųjų prietarų, pvz. tokių, kad jei dažnai (net kartą per savaitę! 😂 ) išsimaudysi, greit pakratysi kojas. Įdomūs ir naujesnių laikų ypatumai, pvz., žymusis „Listerine“ buvo naudojamas ir kaip stangrinamoji priemonė veidui. 😏
Knyga nėra „sausa“, ją labai pagyvina iliustracijos, trumpos ištraukos iš laiškų ar dienoraščių, įvairios patarlės, pamokymai ir patarimai apie asmens higieną. Nesu tikra, ar visi tie sužinoti dalykai ilgam užsiliks atmintyje – tačiau skaityti buvo vienas malonumas! 🤩
Pirmu įspūdžiu ši knyga man priminė dar mokyklos laikais skaitytą „Kraupiosios istorijos“ seriją. 😂 Nedaug beatsimenu, tik kad, tos knygelės buvo 𝘸𝘰𝘸, lyginant su nuobodžiais istorijos vadovėliais, ir kad skaitydama jas daug juokiausi. Panašiai ir čia, nes kai kurie aprašomi papročiai, prietarai ir išradimai, mažų mažiausiai – privertė nusišypsoti. 🙃
Pagrindinė tema, kaip akivaizdu iš pavadinimo – švaros evoliucija. 🛁 Nuo senovės graikų laikų iki šiandieninio pasaulio tendencijų. Iki šiol žinojau tik tiek, kad romėnai dievino švarą ir pirtis, o viduramžių žmonės buvo baisiai nevalyvi. 😐 Juk kas Kristaus numazgotas (t. y., pakrikštytas vandeniu), tam nėra reikalo praustis. 🤭 Štai kodėl viduramžių vienuoliai maudydavosi tik dukart per metus. Ir tik XVIII–XIX a. vėl pradėta nedrąsiai akcentuoti švaros svarbą ir bandyta atsikratyti senųjų prietarų, pvz. tokių, kad jei dažnai (net kartą per savaitę! 😂 ) išsimaudysi, greit pakratysi kojas. Įdomūs ir naujesnių laikų ypatumai, pvz., žymusis „Listerine“ buvo naudojamas ir kaip stangrinamoji priemonė veidui. 😏
Knyga nėra „sausa“, ją labai pagyvina iliustracijos, trumpos ištraukos iš laiškų ar dienoraščių, įvairios patarlės, pamokymai ir patarimai apie asmens higieną. Nesu tikra, ar visi tie sužinoti dalykai ilgam užsiliks atmintyje – tačiau skaityti buvo vienas malonumas! 🤩
December 13, 2010
Super interesting topic, and I am glad I read this book. However, it was written kind of oddly... Most of it read like a history text book (think watching old-school documentary instead of new "fun" documentary), but then at the *very* end in a tiny section about modern cleanliness the author suddenly switches to super personal-opinion, judgy mode. I happen to agree that Americans today are way too obsessed with cleanliness, but to see such an abrupt switch in writing style was really... weird.
December 26, 2025
Paskaityti apie Vakarų europiečių prausimosi istoriją buvo visai įdomu. Ar atvėrė akis-sukrėtė-nustebino-sužavėjo? Ne… sakyčiau, pritrūko egzotikos. Keista, kad ir kiek mes dabar mėgtume praustis, neprilygstam Senovės romėnams, o mūsų meilė švarai nėra tokia didinga kaip jų meilė pirtims.
August 26, 2021
Ringrazio la casa editrice Odoya per aver messo a disposizione una copia digitale gratuita nelle prime settimane di lockdown e mi pento di averne rimandato la lettura per più di un anno.
Fosse per me guarderei ogni tipo di documentario che passa in tv, però purtroppo la buona volontà non è sufficiente e dal momento che non riesco a stare seduta e concentrata di fronte ad uno schermo per più di 10min, il surrogato-libro per me è una mano santa. Da quando ho scoperto il genere della "microhistory" infatti sono caduta in una spirale di acquisti/noleggi compulsivi per cui accumulo ogni titolo che mi passa davanti sperando che la narrazione e i contenuti siano all'altezza delle aspettative. Con la Ashenburg è stato così. Esplorare ogni secolo, ogni nazione (occidentale) e ogni superstizione relativa all'igiene è stato un viaggio veramente affascinante.
Fosse per me guarderei ogni tipo di documentario che passa in tv, però purtroppo la buona volontà non è sufficiente e dal momento che non riesco a stare seduta e concentrata di fronte ad uno schermo per più di 10min, il surrogato-libro per me è una mano santa. Da quando ho scoperto il genere della "microhistory" infatti sono caduta in una spirale di acquisti/noleggi compulsivi per cui accumulo ogni titolo che mi passa davanti sperando che la narrazione e i contenuti siano all'altezza delle aspettative. Con la Ashenburg è stato così. Esplorare ogni secolo, ogni nazione (occidentale) e ogni superstizione relativa all'igiene è stato un viaggio veramente affascinante.
May 28, 2012
I recently had a conversation with a friend, a physician, about sanitary conditions at various points in history, and she particularly wondered how civilization (such as it was) continued procreating when surely (almost) everyone smelled so bad! I vaguely recalled what I'd learned about the Roman baths and wondered how, and at what point in history, did reverence for cleanliness give way to filth and fear of water, and this book provided that and so much more.
Ashenburg provides an anthropological history of bathing and cleanliness from the Greeks and Romans through modern times that, at turns, fascinates, disgusts, delights and provokes thought. Whether you're interested in Germ Theory vs. the Hygiene Hypothesis or the rise of modern bathrooms, or just wondered how the heck the Romans got the water all over the city back before remotely modern technology, this book has an angle for you.
Be prepared to pester your friends with bath-based trivia for days or weeks to come. Did you know, for example, that "by 100 B.C., nine aqueducts provided each Roman with 300 gallons of water a day, four times the average consumed by a modern North American"? Also be prepared to cringe at quite a few of the tales of water-averse folks through time.
The only thing I'd have liked would have been a wider-scale approach to the bathing customs in non-Western venues. Ashenburg touches on Africa only lightly and in reference mainly to the higher incidences of cleanliness among Muslims than Christians in Spain, references India in only a few tangential sentences (mainly to mention a Hindu man's shock at the lack of prescriptions of bathing rules and rituals in Christianity), Japan on only 7 pages (out of 300) and China on only four. There's practically no mention of hygiene culture or history in aboriginal peoples, either in North America (which is largely ignored until the Civil War era) or elsewhere, and while the interlacing of religion and cleanliness among the three major monotheistic faiths is examined, mostly from a sociopolitical standpoint, there's hardly a whisper of how bathing and hygiene played roles in other faiths' customs.
Ashenburg provides an anthropological history of bathing and cleanliness from the Greeks and Romans through modern times that, at turns, fascinates, disgusts, delights and provokes thought. Whether you're interested in Germ Theory vs. the Hygiene Hypothesis or the rise of modern bathrooms, or just wondered how the heck the Romans got the water all over the city back before remotely modern technology, this book has an angle for you.
Be prepared to pester your friends with bath-based trivia for days or weeks to come. Did you know, for example, that "by 100 B.C., nine aqueducts provided each Roman with 300 gallons of water a day, four times the average consumed by a modern North American"? Also be prepared to cringe at quite a few of the tales of water-averse folks through time.
The only thing I'd have liked would have been a wider-scale approach to the bathing customs in non-Western venues. Ashenburg touches on Africa only lightly and in reference mainly to the higher incidences of cleanliness among Muslims than Christians in Spain, references India in only a few tangential sentences (mainly to mention a Hindu man's shock at the lack of prescriptions of bathing rules and rituals in Christianity), Japan on only 7 pages (out of 300) and China on only four. There's practically no mention of hygiene culture or history in aboriginal peoples, either in North America (which is largely ignored until the Civil War era) or elsewhere, and while the interlacing of religion and cleanliness among the three major monotheistic faiths is examined, mostly from a sociopolitical standpoint, there's hardly a whisper of how bathing and hygiene played roles in other faiths' customs.
March 29, 2021
I'd say this book was OK. There were a lot of interesting tidbits in here — very fun if you like some mildly gross anecdotes or if you like to look back at the past and laugh at people — but I don't know if I got a really good sense of how people really felt about cleanliness throughout the ages.
Ashenburg starts the book off with an anecdote about her grandmother to explain how the idea of "but didn't they smell?" may be anachronistic, but when she finally circles back to the time in history when people were most likely to be smelly, it's not clear that people didn't notice or something. One thing that's interesting is that towards the end she seems to think that our modern emphasis on excessive cleanliness and never having a human smell that others could perceive is basically a conspiracy to sell us soap. However, I'm not convinced — it seems equally plausible to me that prior to the advent of modern hygienic methods and universal indoor plumbing, "you shouldn't impose your smell on me" was simply not a reasonable standard for society to set, because it was not plausible for people to keep from having human smells. Now that it's relatively easy to remove and mask human smells, it has become discourteous to not do so. This is similar (though less consequential, for sure) to standards about vaccination — once it became feasible to make yourself immune to transmissible diseases (and thus eliminate yourself as a vector), there was — rightly so — a social imperative to do so.
One thing I do wish she had addressed in pretty much any detail, though, is the issue of post-defecation cleaning. She hints at differences in some cultures, including medieval Europeans possibly not cleaning at all, but that seems like it would be unpleasant on many dimensions, not just smell, so I was very disappointed that she didn't address it at all.
Ashenburg starts the book off with an anecdote about her grandmother to explain how the idea of "but didn't they smell?" may be anachronistic, but when she finally circles back to the time in history when people were most likely to be smelly, it's not clear that people didn't notice or something. One thing that's interesting is that towards the end she seems to think that our modern emphasis on excessive cleanliness and never having a human smell that others could perceive is basically a conspiracy to sell us soap. However, I'm not convinced — it seems equally plausible to me that prior to the advent of modern hygienic methods and universal indoor plumbing, "you shouldn't impose your smell on me" was simply not a reasonable standard for society to set, because it was not plausible for people to keep from having human smells. Now that it's relatively easy to remove and mask human smells, it has become discourteous to not do so. This is similar (though less consequential, for sure) to standards about vaccination — once it became feasible to make yourself immune to transmissible diseases (and thus eliminate yourself as a vector), there was — rightly so — a social imperative to do so.
One thing I do wish she had addressed in pretty much any detail, though, is the issue of post-defecation cleaning. She hints at differences in some cultures, including medieval Europeans possibly not cleaning at all, but that seems like it would be unpleasant on many dimensions, not just smell, so I was very disappointed that she didn't address it at all.
May 30, 2012
I seem to have read several non-fiction books recently where the pitch doesn’t quite match the book itself. With its cutesy title, The Dirt On Clean* promises to be popular history at its best. Indeed, in places, Dirt is a breezy and amusing look at the history of washing. But the whiff of academia can’t quite be washed off. Parts of Dirt feel overlong and rather boring – as if they belong in a much more serious history book.
(*Mystifyingly, this title was changed to simply Clean for UK publication. Why? Because British people hate puns?)
Dirt betrays just a little bit of research laziness, too. The book tends to careen from subject to subject, based (I suspect) on what Ashenburg was able to find material for, rather than providing a smooth narrative. We also spend far too long in the 20th century. Do we really need a history of what bathrooms were like 20 years ago? I can remember what they were like then!
All in all, Dirt is a diverting read – one filled with fascinating historical factlets that you’ll immediately want to share with people – but it’s not quite the sparkling chucklefest it has been pitched as.
(*Mystifyingly, this title was changed to simply Clean for UK publication. Why? Because British people hate puns?)
Dirt betrays just a little bit of research laziness, too. The book tends to careen from subject to subject, based (I suspect) on what Ashenburg was able to find material for, rather than providing a smooth narrative. We also spend far too long in the 20th century. Do we really need a history of what bathrooms were like 20 years ago? I can remember what they were like then!
All in all, Dirt is a diverting read – one filled with fascinating historical factlets that you’ll immediately want to share with people – but it’s not quite the sparkling chucklefest it has been pitched as.
November 6, 2010
A fun and interesting book that traces the history of the standards of personal cleanliness in the Western world, beginning with the elaborate baths of ancient Rome.
The author describes the many forms of public and private bathing which have been considered normal over the centuries. She points out that Christianity is one of the few religions that doesn't insist on cleanliness of the body, and describes times and places where bathing with water was thought to be impious, unhealthy or unsavory. She examines ideals of cleanliness which seem incredulous to us, such as the 17th-century notion that clean linen was a superior alternative to bathing with water.
I agree with some of the points towards the end of the book, about how modern American cleanliness has perhaps gone too far - particularly with some of the products marketed since the 1960's for women. But for the most part I'm grateful for the lack of odor coming from my fellow citizens.
The author describes the many forms of public and private bathing which have been considered normal over the centuries. She points out that Christianity is one of the few religions that doesn't insist on cleanliness of the body, and describes times and places where bathing with water was thought to be impious, unhealthy or unsavory. She examines ideals of cleanliness which seem incredulous to us, such as the 17th-century notion that clean linen was a superior alternative to bathing with water.
I agree with some of the points towards the end of the book, about how modern American cleanliness has perhaps gone too far - particularly with some of the products marketed since the 1960's for women. But for the most part I'm grateful for the lack of odor coming from my fellow citizens.
June 22, 2016
This was a great little book - lots of historical detail, all centering around cleanliness and proving that bodies and cleaning has really changed over the years. This book covered everything from Romans who scraped themselves with oil, to Europeans who were afraid of water, to sweat lodges in North America, to saunas in Scandinavia and to the modern obsession with clean. I liked that it wasn't all about Europe - plenty of info scattered in about what was going on in North America, parts of Asia and Africa. I knew a lot of it, but there were some wonderful and surprising gems (ok, I've forgotten them already. But I know they were there.).
Good for middle grade kids who want a little non-fiction. Great layout and lots of colour photos, and quick side-bars. And you can't beat the topic - bodily functions are endlessly fascinating!
-Kirsten
Good for middle grade kids who want a little non-fiction. Great layout and lots of colour photos, and quick side-bars. And you can't beat the topic - bodily functions are endlessly fascinating!
-Kirsten
June 25, 2016
Very detailed, yet fun book about the history of cleanliness, all over the world, although the main focus is the Western world. If all you know about how people kept clean, in the past, is the Roman bathes and perfume, then this book will fill you in on the different ideas about cleanliness, as well as how people achieved it from ancient times, to the present.
Each chapter begins with a view of what it must have been like in the time period, to be clean, taken from source material. And how our view of cleanliness changed, as the times changed, how some thought it was more holy to be dirty and some people thought it was the opposite.
Good book to have in the classroom, or home. Apparently, this is a child's version of the adult book on dirt written by the same author.
Thanks to Netgalley for making this book available for an honest review.
Each chapter begins with a view of what it must have been like in the time period, to be clean, taken from source material. And how our view of cleanliness changed, as the times changed, how some thought it was more holy to be dirty and some people thought it was the opposite.
Good book to have in the classroom, or home. Apparently, this is a child's version of the adult book on dirt written by the same author.
Thanks to Netgalley for making this book available for an honest review.
April 6, 2017
This is a wonderful book! The writing is lively and the anecdotes are great. I learned so much ... and laughed a lot.
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