Mooning, you say? What kind of mooning? Y’all, I’m not talking about Merriam-Webster’s first definition of mooning: to spend in idle reverie: dream —used with away as in mooned the afternoon away; I’m talking about the second definition.
informal: to expose one’s naked buttocks to, as in “One of the boys mooned the crowd.”
In the event you have never been subjected to mooning, I offer you an exclusive opportunity to view the act in living color here and here before continuing to read my laboriously researched article on the ancient art of dissing someone.
THE HISTORY OF MOONING
Did you know that exposing your rear end has been going on a long time? Who knew?
Apparently the art of a backside insult was in full swing during the Middle Ages. During the Fourth Crusade (1203), Western Europeans unsuccessfully attacked Constantinople. As they pulled away in disgrace, the Byzantines began whooping and hollering and gave the enemy a bare-bottomed salute.
WHEN THE BARE-BOTTOMED INSULT WAS NAMED MOONING
The 1960s gave birth to the term “mooning” as the act became increasingly popular at American universities. Moon or moons has been used as slang for the buttocks since the 18th Century.
Did you know you could throw a moon?
MOONING ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD
Mooning isn’t just for westerners. The Māori (indigenous Polynesian people of Mainland New Zealand) have a special word for the practice of mooning—whakapohane!
(verb) (-tia) to expose the buttocks and private parts – an act of contempt.
Ko tana huringa atu tēnā i tana tuarā kātahi ka whakapohane atu me te kī atu kia kaua a ia e whakaiti i te wahine, i te mea, i puta mai ia i ngā kūwhā o te wahine (TTR 1996:185). / She then turned her back and exposed herself in the derisive act known as whakapohane, saying that he should not belittle women, since a woman had given him birth.
WHY AM I WRITING ABOUT MOONING?
By now, you are probably wondering what set me on this jag to talk about the art of the insult, since many in our current social context are quite skilled at it. Frankly, I was minding my own business, researching the 1862 attack of Guntersville, Alabama on the south side of the Tennessee River by the Federals for my next novel, The Rovers: Family Threads. (Bear with me, I know this is a convoluted story.)
On the morning of July 28, 1862, the Union army began to use rifled Parrott guns set on a hill north of the Tennessee River to destroy the town’s warehouses, ferries, and landings located on the south side. My ancestors living in Guntersville, Wendolyn Seibold (shoe and boot repair shop owner), his wife, Elizabeth, and their four sons were no doubt just starting their day. During the bombardment, Elizabeth most likely took the children to hide in a ravine in town with a hundred other women and children. After a day of terror, the shelling stopped.
While reading The Civil War Diaries of Cassie Fennell, I found the most extraordinary contemporaneous report of the incident in the footnotes. In a letter to his wife on August 1, 1862, Union private George Kryder (3rd Regiment Ohio Cavalry) wrote the following about a rebel woman: “They (his comrades) said there was one woman who came out of a house and showed her backside to the men and then went into the house. After she shut the door the Artillery threw a shell which exploded in the house and in an instant the whole house was in flame and nothing more was seen of the woman.”
OMG! Believe me, this bare-bottomed incident will find its way into the novel.
Note: Only two people were reported killed, and the editor of the diary believes the no-holds-barred woman must have survived.
LAST THOUGHTS ON MOONING
I now know more than I want to about the topic. Writing blogs is hard work, especially when you have to view asses to tell a story about life.
I’d love it if you’d join me!
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