First Published in 2005. Routledge is an imprint of Taylor & Francis, an informa company.

Birchgrove Press brings together in one volume two books representing the developing corpus of late eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century English sexual fiction focusing on flagellation: Exhibition of Female Flagellants (c. 1780) and its sequel, Part the Second of the Exhibition of Female Flagellants (c. 1785). Collections of amusing anecdotes about the pleasures of flogging, these novellas focus on birching in aristocratic domestic and scholastic contexts, emphasise the display of blood, and extol the aphrodisiacal qualities of flowers. The author or authors are not known. Part one, Exhibition of Female Flagellants was first published about 1780, possibly by George Peacock in 1777. Part two, Part the Second of the Exhibition of Female Flagellants, was first published about 1785, probably also by George Peacock. Both books were reprinted in the early nineteenth century and by John Camden Hotten in 1872. This Birchgrove Press edition, which is based on Hotten's reprints, includes an Appendix with bibliographic details excerpted from Pisanus Fraxi's [Henry Spencer Ashbee's] Index Librorum Prohibitorum (1877). Ashbee's record provides a fascinating overview of both books' publishing history.

First published in 2005. The line between pain and pleasure is as thin as the tail of a whip, and this classic work is the definitive history of flagellation through the ages. As it shows, flagellation is much more than a punishment - it is also intimately tied to discipline and eroticism, has a romantic and even comic side, and has also been used for medical purposes. No one is above the bite of the birch or rod - convent nuns were chastised severely, queens have been flogged, and even favourites of the sultan have had to endure the whip in the great seraglios. The author deals in great detail with whipping in ancient Egypt, Greece and Rome, the favourite parts of the body for whipping, flagellation and discipline in monasteries and convents, whipping in prisons, the rod in Russia, flagellation in America, whipping in Europe and the Far East, the flogging of slaves, military flogging, school punishments and the birch in the boudoir, all enlivened with colourful anecdotes. There is a chapter on the instruments of whipping, a selection of ribald and erotic poems on whipping, a section on eccentric forms of whipping such as that practised on prostitutes, many detailed line drawings, descriptive accounts and a full index. The work shows the fundamental place whipping has always played in human history, both publicly and in private, and continues to play today.

Every year during Holy Week in the Philippine province of Pampanga, hundreds of men and women undergo acts of excruciating, self-inflicted pain in ways that evoke the Way of the Cross: the torment and crucifixion that Christ endured in the last days of his earthly existence. Because these Passion rituals are officially disavowed by the Filipino Roman Catholic Church, most observers view them as irrational and extremist mimicry of Christ’s painful ordeal. Even scholars conventionally depict them as theatrical “spectacle” or macabre examples of Filipino “folk religion.” But what conditions enable ritual actors to submit to such extreme pain? What justifications do they give for going against official prohibitions? What outcomes do they seek in channeling Christian piety in this way? This book addresses these questions through its in-depth analyses of three interconnected ritual acts: the pabasa, a days-long communal chanting of Christ’s Passion story; the pagdarame, the public self-flagellation of hundreds of devotees; and the pamamaku king krus, in which steel nails are driven through the palms and feet of ritual practitioners as part of a street play performed in front of tens of thousands of spectators. Author Julius Bautista suggests that such ritual acts manifest the embodied physicality of a suffering selfhood that facilitates the expression of heartfelt sentiments of pity, empathy, trust, and bereavement. By emphasizing these outwardly focused human sensibilities as the wellsprings of ritual agency, he demonstrates that Passion rituals are reinterpretations of the very idea and experience of pain, hardship, and suffering and premised on an appeal for a certain kind of divine intimacy. The author draws on a decade of in-depth and often exclusive interviews with a host of local stakeholders—including ritual practitioners, clerics, scholars, and government officials—and his own participation in a Passion play. Ethnographic insight is considered alongside primary and secondary archival sources, including unpublished, locally produced oral historical accounts and a survey of relevant media coverage. The Way of the Cross makes a welcome contribution to the anthropology of religion by examining the unique ontological contexts in which ritual agents experience God’s involvement in their lives.

The early modern period is a particularly fascinating chapter in the history of pain. This volume investigates early modern constructions of physical pain from a variety of disciplines, including religious, legal and medical history, literary criticism, philosophy, and art history.