Burlesque West: Showgirls, Sex and Sin in Postwar Vancouver (review)

Over the past few years there has been a little spurt of books dealing with strippers and sex workers in the Canadian context, as Line Chamberland and I outlined in a review essay for Labour/Le Travail in 2006. A new book by University of British Columbia sociologist, Becki Ross, about the post-World War II erotic entertainer business in Vancouver, is an excellent addition to this expanding collection. Ross positions herself as a feminist captivated and inspired by the strippers' challenge to traditional femininity and decorum, and by their apparent sexual confidence. Her book is the result of a long period of research that officially got underway when she received a Social Sciences and Humanities Research grant in 1999. Her being awarded this grant sparked outrage among conservative politicians and the media, who deemed the topic of investigation an inappropriate way to spend taxpayer money. At the front end of this negative onslaught, she had to endure hateful mail, phone calls, and faxes. In spite of this, she held her ground and her study progressed. Ross says the thing that most distressed her at the time was the overarching perception that strippers were freaks not worth studying, and that their stories should be swept under the carpet. This made her all the more determined to open a window onto the erotic and fascinating world of showgirls, sex, and sin.

We can all be thankful that Ross persevered and succeeded since she is now able to shed light on an interesting period in Vancouver history in general, and on its large and important postwar erotic entertainment history in particular. The book will have appeal not only for historians, sociologists, labour specialists, and political scientists, but also for those who study small entrepreneurial and family businesses. The book will also appeal to people who simply want a window into a fascinating underground world that has been little explored by those with other than prurient or condemning objectives.

Ross situates commercial stripping within the larger historical context of "dancing for dollars." She traces an evolutionary line from belly dancers in Africa, Hindu erotic dancers in India, and snake dancers in Brazil, to the rise of burlesque entertainment in North America at the end of the 19th century. In the beginning, dancers were usually part of a chorus line baring legs and occasionally breasts. More and more burlesque and vaudeville-type shows began to feature individual entertainers/strippers. Gradually favourites and then stars began to emerge out of the chorus line, such as the infamous Mae West. Vancouver became a major centre for this type of erotic entertainment, and by the early post-World War II period was second tier only to cities such as Las Vegas and Miami. She estimates that in the mid-1950s, there were at least 21 clubs staging striptease in Vancouver nightclubs, many of them amongst the most profitable small businesses in the city. For example, in its heyday, up to 600 patrons a night, including many couples, paid to witness the spectacle at the Penthouse Cabaret.

In Chapter two, Ross profiles the men who owned and ran the clubs where the strippers performed. She divides what she calls "the men behind the marquee" into two distinct categories: "west-enders" and "east-enders." Men who owned and controlled the strip clubs on the west side were white; those on the east side were primarily men of colour. This racial divide was replicated inside the clubs. In the west, the entertainers were white, the clientele white and usually affluent, and the clubs more upscale. In the east, the entertainers tended to be of colour, the shows more "exotic," the clubs more rundown, and the clientele less moneyed. While all clubs encountered "selective" policing and patrol, those on the east were subject to closer scrutiny and much more likely to be raided by the police. None of the east side clubs were granted a liquor license until the late 1960s, whereas on the west side liquor licenses...