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Das 3. Geschlecht (The 3rd sex): Illustration Practices in the First Magazine for Transvestites

Rainer Herrn
Translated by Michael Thomas Taylor and Annette F. Timm

Many studies have appeared recently on the history of gender and sexual minorities, yet insufficient attention has been paid to the significance of images.1 Among German historians of sexuality, specifically, only very few use images to add life to stories about important individuals, events, and documents. These scholars less frequently focus on historical practices of illustration themselves. This is hardly surprising, given that there are few images at all of marginalized minorities from the early twentieth century; with very few exceptions publications that focused on these individuals were sparsely or not at all illustrated.2 In comparison to textual sources about these communities, we have very little analysis of visual documentation of their history.

An exception can be found in Das 3. Geschlecht,3 a magazine aimed at “transvestites” in Germany.4 Illustrations were central to the goals of this publication, which therefore offers us an incomparably rich source of images to work with. A visual analysis of this publication reveals that images often marked a point of intersection between self-perception and the perception of the self by others, even when this intersection was not explicitly articulated.

This essay will begin by examining the context in which this magazine emerged and its role in expressing the nascent self-formation and self-expression of transvestites. My focus will be on the particular role that visuality played for cross-dressers of this period, as a constitutive element of a strategy of visual self-empowerment and self-reassurance. The crucial question in this context is how images were used to negotiate norms about how transvestites should appear. Taking up this question, the second part of the essay turns to the private use of images, and the third part discusses the influence that editors of Das 3. Geschlecht had on shaping images of transvestites. Looking synthetically at these different practices, the final two sections then ask about the photographs’ visual language and the specific effects of how they were placed or collaged on the pages of the publication.

As part of a process of negotiation between cross-dressers and sexologists that began around 1900, Magnus Hirschfeld suggested in 1910 that cross-dressers should no longer be categorized as homosexuals, as had been the prevailing practice. Rather, he suggested that they be viewed as a “sexual” minority of their own, for which he coined the term “transvestite.”5 In line with criticism of the existing practice of understanding cross-dressing as a symptom of homosexuality, Hirschfeld first conceived of transvestitism as a heterosexual phenomenon existing for both sexes.6 Although there had been previous reports of isolated cases of the formation of network-like, private contacts between groups of cross-dressers, it was only in the Weimar period that transvestites began to more frequently form organizations and articulate their own identities as a unique subculture. These developments led to the publication of books and magazines.

For imperial Germany, there is but scant evidence of social infrastructure for cross-dressers. In one passage of his book, Hirschfeld writes about tensions between different sexual groups; according to Hirschfeld groups formed around sexual orientations and this had prompted the “transvestites” to split off from homosexuals as early as the turn of the century.7 Hirschfeld notes that heterosexual transvestites (by which he meant cross-dressers whose love objects remained heterosexual with reference to the sex assigned at birth) “are not seldom extremely careful to avoid associating with homosexual transvestites; for example, they are incredibly keen to exclude them from transvestite organizations. Conversely, homosexual transvestites have not the least bit of understanding for heterosexual men who live in female clothing; homosexuals consider these men to be people who have gotten stuck in their development or they don’t really believe that the heterosexual men are attracted to the other sex.”8 Reflecting on the impact of his own work in 1924, Hirschfeld noted that “the heterosexual transvestites hardly know each other; some of them have come together to form a group only since my book [The Transvestites, 1910], and they are now even occasionally united together into a little organization with the telling name of ‘Two Souls.’”9 In the same year, Lothar Goldmann reported that it was only with “political revolution and progressive research,” meaning with the founding of the Weimar Republic, that many “transvestites” dared go public, having been strengthened in their confidence.10 He reminds us that not long before the First World War a “women’s club that was meeting in total secrecy [which also included transvestites] was broken up by the police.”11

This repressive approach no longer existed in the same form in 1920s Germany. Goldman nevertheless concludes that “even though an enormous number of dance halls and localities [entertainment venues]” for homosexuals opened up “in all areas of Berlin, especially after the war … there were hardly any comparable places for transvestites.”12 For heterosexual transvestites, this at first left only private circles in which they had already been socially engaged, since, as Goldmann continues, in agreement with Hirschfeld: “The heterosexual transvestite with an inclination for normal women usually avoids homosexual circles.”13 Goldmann compares a private party to a so-called “costume ball,” for which a venue was specifically rented: “Similar official events may proceed with just as much fun. But they naturally lose the discreet character of a private, closed circle. Even celebrations organized on such a scale often have participants of both sexes numbering many hundreds of people. Just recently, such an amusement took place in the Philharmonie in Berlin.”14

Several other magazine projects for members of gender and sexual minorities provide evidence for an emerging liberalization at the beginning of the Weimar period. Beginning in 1924, the publishing house owned by the homosexual publisher and activist Friedrich Radszuweit published a supplement to the lesbian magazine Die Freundin (The girlfriend) devoted to “transvestites.”15 Between 1930 and 1932, Radzuweit’s company published the first transvestite magazine in the world to be offered for sale: Das 3. Geschlecht. There is not a single library that considered it important to save this magazine. The failure to preserve these historical traces is evidence that the public viewed transvestite inclinations as bizarre and ridiculous whims, as stigmatizing descriptions about which marginalized transvestites repeatedly complained.16

The Role of Imagery and the Power of Images

One thing in particular characterizes the magazine Das 3. Geschlecht: Friedrich Radszuweit conceived it as an illustrated magazine, and he took care to emphasize its unusually rich visual content from the moment it was first announced. For instance, he advertises the first issue with the note: “Illustrated with twenty images,” and for the fifth issue, “Illustrated with 30 images” (see figure 2.1). Only in one other magazine published at this time – a homosexual magazine also produced by Radszuweit’s press – Die Insel: Magazin der Einsamen (The island: magazine for lonely souls) – was so much significance afforded to illustrations.

Die Insel’s visual ethos depended primarily on photos of young, lightly clothed or naked men in chaste poses. While Das 3. Geschlecht sought to use images as a means to allow readers to identify with those depicted, Die Insel aimed to pique the erotic interest of male readers. And yet Das 3. Geschlecht also contained photos of scantily clad men and women, particularly on its cover pages, which were almost always decorated with extremely attractive women. This was likely not only an attempt to address the erotic desires of both heterosexual male and homosexual female transvestites, but perhaps also an effort to attract a wider heterosexual readership, an audience that was less interested in transvestitism and much more interested in pictures of naked women.

The dominance of photography in the magazine prompts us to ask about photography’s importance for transvestites. Already in his monograph Die Transvestiten, Hirschfeld had promised to produce an illustrated volume if it became clear that there was interest and if readers sent him photos. Hirschfeld must have received the material he needed. An illustrated volume containing only fifty-four images (likely because of the high printing costs) appeared soon thereafter, and additional volumes would soon follow.17 The Radszuweit press also solicited photos from the reading public in this way, though its editor’s aims were different from Hirschfeld’s. Radszuweit was not primarily interested in providing visual evidence for scientific theories, or if so, only to the extent that science helped to popularize and stabilize a new form of identity. Rather, he was interested in establishing a medium for transvestites to construct their own identities and to organize themselves into groups. Imagery was central to both of these goals.

According to Hirschfeld, transvestitism consists in the desire to stage oneself in the clothing of the “other” sex, in a performative act in private or public, with or without an audience. Photography provided transvestites with a visual medium that made it possible to credibly represent a successful gender transgression. It allowed transvestites to record, and retrospectively confirm, ephemeral moments of the successful staging of an identity within the “other” sex. No other visual medium was considered to be so convincing in terms of its power to illustrate and reproduce reality. The often-elaborate preparations that go into getting ready for the camera are to be understood as acts with the power to engender identity, and they are occasionally also erotically charged acts of transvestitism, which Hirschfeld then mistakenly generalized in 1918: “The inclination to be photographed in clothing appropriate to their own unique character [Eigenart] is extraordinarily widespread among transvestites. They evidently find that strong feelings of desire often radiate toward them from a photograph reflecting their second or true self.”18

Transvestites were also faced with the challenge of making their existence visible to themselves and to the world. Photography was able to do this. These visual practices can be understood as a strategy of “visual self-empowerment,” although the photos in the magazine also enter into a dialogue with the texts.19 Whereas the authors of the popular-scientific text contributions to Das 3. Geschlecht were usually identified with both their first and last names, the corresponding statements from transvestites are authored only with chosen names or pseudonyms. Most photos in the first issues are printed without names, even though the captions indicate that many of them depict transvestites who performed in public, people we would refer to as travesty artists, and whose faces are clearly recognizable. Artist names are given only in a few exceptions, such as in the photo of Voo-Doo, a dancer and cabaret artist whose real name was Willy Pape (discussed in more detail in the image gallery in this chapter and in Michael's essay).20

These portraits and still photographs, some of which were prepared in the style of artists’ postcards, can be considered professional, even though the published sources of the time made no distinction between travesty and transvestitism. Travesty performances, which were very popular around the turn of the century, included men performing in women’s clothing and women performing in men’s clothing, and they ranged from grotesque stagings of gender irony to song numbers, performances of artistic whistling, and perfect stagings of Salomé’s “Dance of the Seven Veils.” Such forms of theatricalization played with the audience’s gender awareness and drew from the tension between the body, the voice, movement, and clothing, which these performances perfected to a form of art. The performers worked with techniques of covering and uncovering, allusion and illusion, and they presupposed complicity in this gender play between the audience and those presenting themselves to be seen. Both scholarly and popular interpreters understood travesty acts as proof of transvestite desire. They were viewed as professionally perfect realizations of a drive-like inclination, as if the stage appearance were not thinkable without the “drive to cross-dress” upon which it was based.21 One article in Das 3. Geschlecht described how circuses, cabaret, and the theatre were depicting “Men as Women – Women as Men”; it noted that these travesty artists’ “desire to wear the clothing of the other sex must [certainly] be attributable to transvestitism.”22

Emphasizing the role of stage performance is important because the photos in the first issues of Das 3. Geschlecht primarily depict performing artists. Illustrations in the first two issues are captioned, for instance; “Young artist makes a successful guest appearance as a woman and a man,” or “Male artist who had great success as a female impersonator on the top stages at home and abroad.”23 In contrast, in depictions of female-to-male transvestites the camera focuses less on glamorous figures and more on nonartistic professions that were clearly masculine in their connotations, such as a ship’s captain, a gentleman at a reception desk, or a sportsman (see figure 2.3).

We cannot really know, however, whether the captions reflect true facts or are fabrications from the editors. Perhaps it was decided to avoid naming the persons in the images because these individuals did not want to be given the label of “transvestite” in the only magazine that was aimed at transvestites? And perhaps what mattered for the illustrations was less the concrete persons being represented and more the positive and exemplary character of what they respectively represented: successful transvestites in various life situations, who appeared to have succeeded in having a career in their desired sex. The photographs constitute diverse class typologies of space (of freedom) and profession, which display the various ways in which these individuals might live out their passion and illustrate their fantasies of wish fulfilment.

Although it is hardly possible to make a clear distinction between “professional” photos and those that I will call “private” in what follows, this division nevertheless appears useful. For, as I have already mentioned, the editors of Das 3. Geschlecht frequently encouraged readers to send in suitable photographs for publication. We read in the second volume, for instance: “Here, the editors ask all transvestites to support the publisher by sending in texts, images, etc.”24 By presenting itself as the mouthpiece for transvestites, the magazine motivated its readers to cooperate by implying that they would be furthering their own interests.25

Readers apparently were happy to oblige, as the spectrum of private image and text contributions suggests: “Even if it’s not literary, I would like to contribute something to the further success and declare my willingness to give you several images for publication – albeit only in The 3rd Sex.”26 The limitation to the permission points to the high level of identification that the reader feels with the magazine but also to the not unjustified concern that Radszuweit might be tempted to use the images in the homosexual magazines that he published.

Although the magazine made no explicit distinction between professional and private images, we can note a decrease in the number of photos that appear likely to have been taken by professional photographers and an increase in those that appear to have been sent in by readers. In issue one, only four photos out of twenty can be categorized as originating from a private context (see figure 2.7). By issue two, the editors were able to print photo montages of private images, pointing to an increased number of private submissions. By issue five, the magazine can advertise itself by declaring the inclusion of “thirty completely new, not yet published images of male and female transvestites.”27 This emphasis points to the fact that the majority of photos printed in the earlier issues had already been published elsewhere, which a comparison with the Die Insel and the special supplement addressed to transvestites in Die Freundin confirms. The increasing publication of private photos met the taste of readers and reflected the growing need for self-images. For example, one reader expressed their opinion about issue two: “The images are again excellent and, as I see it, even better than in the first issue. The 3rd Sex has recognized that transvestites do not only wear the clothing of the other sex as artists, [and] the images of transvestites from daily life are refreshing. Transvestites in their domestic clothing as they are trying to approach their feminine ideal.”28 Such direct reactions to the illustration practices of the magazine were only common from male transvestites: female transvestites, meaning women who preferred to wear men’s clothing, were far less likely to write in. The share of images and texts representing them successively decrease, even though the magazine was conceived to equally appeal to both male and female transvestites.

As I have demonstrated, Hirschfeld and Goldmann provided evidence that even at the beginning of transvestite self-organization, before the First World War, there were fundamental differences between the heterosexual and homosexual factions of male transvestites that would prove impossible to overcome. (Such tensions did not exist among groups of female transvestites.) Although working out these tensions could have made it possible to join forces, homosexual and heterosexual male transvestites in the Weimar period actively cultivated strife, as is vividly apparent from numerous statements in the letters and texts published in Das 3. Geschlecht.

In extant documents, we find no voices of heterosexual female transvestites. For this reason, we cannot say if there were any such tensions amongst female transvestites at all.29 It is apparent from letters sent in by readers that homosexual male and female transvestites more strongly gravitated toward homosexual subcultures and publications – from which heterosexual male transvestites attempted to keep a strict distance. Or to put it another way, for homosexual male and female transvestites, sexual preference ranked higher in sociability than clothing preference. Consequently, the number of their image and text contributions sank, which is why Das 3. Geschlecht increasingly represented only the heterosexual male fraction of transvestites.

Visual Practices

The significance of the illustrations for these readers is also evident in how they used the images. For some readers, the photos developed a life of their own, as the following letter from a transvestite demonstrates: “I cut out the pictures from the last issue and now always carry them with me. The photos of the two Parisian women and the other two transvestites living as women are especially beautiful” (see figure 2.8).30 Perhaps these photos also provided the “transvestite from the provinces,” as this letter writer described themselves, as a comfort in times during which they were prevented from wearing the women’s clothing that they loved in their professional life or at home. Or perhaps they represented a memory of past time spent in a big city or in Paris? In any case, this person wanted to be able to consider the cut-out photos in quiet seclusion. Perhaps the physical contact with the photos also gave them a pleasant, possibly erotic feeling, so to speak as a replacement for the articles of clothing they were forced to forgo, or because they were physically close to this person’s ideal of beauty.

Evidently, the knowledge of the constant physical availability of these cut-out photos has the effect here of self-affirmation and self-reinforcement, which made it easier to cope with everyday life.

Another transvestite writes that they had “long collected essays from newspapers and magazines and photos from illustrated newsletters and magazines that are somehow related to our cause [Sache], transvestitism.”31 They believed this photo album to be a private archive, a “collection of great documentary value,” and had organized it into three categories: “nice little pictures,” “women in pants,” and “men in dresses.”32 This practice of collecting and ordering images can be viewed as equivalent to how private photos of close or distant relatives are collected. This comparison allows us to argue that the collector’s album of published photos was actually the creation of an equally imaginary yet illustrious circle of kinship, which perhaps gave them a certain sense of belonging and that helped them to achieve personal affirmation.

Editing and Captioning the Images

But individual appropriation is not the only way to view the images in Das 3. Geschlecht. We must also determine how the photos were staged and thus charged with specific meaning through their size and placement and how they were edited and captioned, for the publishers edited both the written contributions and the private images that readers sent to them. Many of them were cropped along the silhouette of the body. Sometimes this meant that the ends of the feet, parts of the head or its covering, dress sleeves or hems, elbows, or hands were cut off. This was especially true for photographs that were assembled into visual collages, as was central to the practice of photocollage in the 1920s. In these cases, the editors usually completely disregarded the original arrangements or overall staging of the photos, concentrating instead on details connected with these persons’ bodies. This makes the photos seem decontextualized and deframed. The only thing that remains visible is the staging of their clothing and fashion accessories, their bodily comportment, gestures, hairstyles, and facial expressions (see figure 2.9).

Because of the way the photo on the left in the collage in figure 2.9 was cut, the overall staging of what is likely a cleaning woman can only be guessed at because of the headscarf tied round this person’s head. This contrasts with the black stockings and pumps worn by the same person in the image on the right, where we see a person dressed to go out, wearing a Basque cap, in front of the same background. In the same way, the middle photograph in the triptych depicts another transvestite as a modern woman with a bob haircut (neue Frau) and gives us no sense of the surroundings. Only the corner of a bright tablecloth that protrudes into the left of the image, together with the resulting shadow, suggest the situation in which the image was made. The caption to the collage and the single photo next to it reads: “four male transvestites who know how to dress inconspicuously.”

Just a few pages later, another triptych presents photographs of the same person in three different scenes (see figure 2.10).

On the left, the person appears in a relaxed pose, smiling into the camera, sitting in a summer house dress with legs resting on the handle of a basket – although the poor quality of the reproduction makes it impossible to tell if they are wearing a head covering or not. The image creates a strong contrast between the large dark shoes and the knee-high white stockings and between the bright dress against a shabby brick wall. In the middle of the triptych, we see a person standing in a somewhat formal pose with a serious face and dressed up to go out; they are carrying a handbag and wearing a hat (from which the top edge has been cut off), a necklace, and elegant white strap shoes. The neutral background, which creates a spartan effect, does not reveal any details at all, nor does the next photo. The far right of the triptych displays a smaller, asymmetrically cropped photo of the same person (with the same hat), this time equipped for a walk in bad weather wearing a rain jacket (out from under which a checkered skirt peeks) and with an umbrella in their arm. The editors comment upon this collage by captioning it, without any further justification: “Male transvestites as they actually should not dress.”

In contrast to these criticized scenes, the photo directly adjacent is captioned: “A well-dressed male transvestite.” If the missing feet are any indication, this photo is also likely to have been cropped from a larger photo. Because of the broad posture and the comparatively large area of space the photo opens up, however, it is possible to recognize more details of the arrangement, which is quite conventional. This photo was even considered worthy of being reproduced as a positive example, in a significantly larger size, dominating an entire page opposite the collage. What stands out are the bourgeois attributes in the decor and clothing, even though this person does not really appear any more convincing in their staging of femininity than the one in the adjacent collage. For this reason, the difference between the photographs judged to have been “successful” or “not successful” appears to lie less in the question of whether the subjects were able to convincingly stage their femininity and more in the embodiment of different social styles of clothing. It is difficult, for instance, to see how the performance of femininity succeeds any better in the photograph of a male transvestite whom the editors describe as “well-dressed” on the right. The important difference between what is endorsed in Das 3. Geschlecht and what is criticized seems to have been determined on the basis of the different social milieus that the clothing choices represent. Bourgeois respectability was given preference over the plain clothing style of the “simple woman.”

The judgemental commentary accompanying both photo collages makes clear the risks that individuals faced when they sent in their private photos. On the one hand, in contrast to the authors of the text contributions, these individuals could not hide behind pseudonyms. Their faces are clearly identifiable, even if they are not named or did not want to be named. In this sense, we can speak of the paradox of an anonymized outing. Sending in the photos was especially bold inasmuch as the individuals they depicted put themselves at the mercy of the editors and, in the case of publication, of readers.

The publication of private photos in Das 3. Geschlecht represented a form of going public in which an invisible interlocutor passed judgement on the success of the staging and performance. The editors expressed their judgements in commentaries that steer the readers’ opinion. The extent to which those who sent in the photos consented to these appraisals and whether or not they aligned with those of readers remains unknown. But the negative judgements implicit in captions describing supposedly unsuccessful stagings certainly must have been problematic for these individuals, who must have hoped that the editors would provide positive affirmations of their presentation. The work that went into staging the photo shooting, the courage of presenting oneself to the photographer (an act that we might view as an open confession), and the decision to send in the photos for publication – none of these things were rewarded. Even worse, the person who submitted them was exposed and unprotected; their visible face opened them up to ridicule. This must have been humiliating. Hence the publication of these images must have been less likely to produce visual self-affirmation and more likely to fuel self-doubt (see figures 2.9 and 2.10).

Overall, the editorial captions appear less oriented toward judging whether these individuals really had succeeded in staging themselves more or less successfully as members of the sex they wished to present. Rather, the point seems to have been to judge whether the individuals depicted were “conspicuous” or “inconspicuous” in their self-presentation – whether they appeared “serious” or “fashionable” or simply “plain” and “ordinary.” This differentiating evaluation is also prominent in the text contributions. Successful displays of bourgeois respectability, aesthetic balance, and professional success played a decisive part in these judgements and were what produced a positive evaluation. In this regard, the image captions originated from a certain culturally and socially normative perspective. They served to sharpen the awareness of fashion in transvestite readers, to educate their taste, and to increase their stylistic confidence. That this was an area of specific concern amongst readers is clear in their letters to the editor: How should a “decent” transvestite dress and behave? This and similar questions were at the centre of debates published in Das 3. Geschlecht. In this regard, the image captions are representative of the broader discussions around self-image that were taking place between transvestites. We must also consider that the editors likely consisted of only homosexual men and women from the lower middle-classes, meaning members of a petit-bourgeois milieu,33 who applied their own set of values in choosing, editing, and evaluating the images. Although cooperation with transvestites is mentioned many times, we have no evidence that any transvestites actually cooperated directly with the editors. In this sense, the published commentary mainly reflected the views of a certain social milieu.

Regardless of the discrepancy between the composition and interests of the editors, on the one hand, and the readers, on the other, looking at the self-images we find in Das 3. Geschlecht, we can postulate a difference between the texts and the photos that were submitted. Whereas the text contributions almost all speak about successful passing – the convincing performance in public as members of the opposite sex – the images illustrate how precarious this staging could be (see figure 2.11).

In comparison to today, there was a much more intense focus on maintaining norms of dress amongst the general population but particularly for authorities charged with keeping order, such as the police. Persons who stood out for wearing clothing of the opposite sex in public were generally charged with causing a public nuisance or with gross mischief. For this reason, Magnus Hirschfeld persuaded the police to issue so-called “transvestite passes,” a practice that began in 1909 and then became widespread in the Weimar Republic. Issued on the basis of an expert diagnosis of transvestitism, this document was intended to protect transvestites from arrest.34 We can therefore assume that the stories readers told the magazine about their direct experiences with appearing inconspicuous in public corresponded more to fantasy than to reality, especially since only a very few of the published photos they had submitted appeared to have been taken in public. Sometimes photos described as street scenes turn out, upon closer inspection, to have been produced in a studio.35

The fact that passing appears to have been rare is highlighted in the letter of a person who calls themself “Transvestite Grete M.,” according to whom “a vanishingly small number appear truly decent and inconspicuous.” Grete warns that whoever is “in the fortunate situation of being able to live and present according to their true nature should significantly limit their appearance in public … unless they belong to the few able to appear as they are trying to be.”36

In contrast to the frequently proclaimed need for unlimited visibility in public and for like-minded transvestites to join together, the illustration practice of Das 3. Geschlecht is actually evidence for the extreme social isolation of transvestites in this era. There is no photographic evidence of common activities or social gatherings, whether in public or in private, an impression that is reinforced in the editorial cropping and arrangement of images. We see the transvestites primarily as isolated individuals who stick out. From the texts it is clear that they lived out their passion within the protection of their own homes, in the company of close friends and closed private circles and occasionally with their wives. This self-limitation of heterosexual male transvestites to private spaces corresponds to the prevailing confinement of women to the domestic sphere during this period, and it is consistent with the magazine’s general message that “true” transvestites should carry out female occupations in the household.

There is only one photo in the magazine, of two “male transvestites” wearing modern clothing and standing in a relaxed pose, that presents an urban scene on a public street. It is captioned “Parisian male transvestites living as women” (see figure 2.8). However, before this photo was published in Das. 3 Geschlecht, it had already been used twice as the cover image for Die Freundin, and given the stylish outfits of the figures, it is possible that it came from a fashion magazine. When it was first published in Die Freundin, a magazine addressed to lesbian readers, the same photo was given the caption “Girlfriends.”37 This image migration from the lesbian to the transvestite magazine is thus a case of relabelling: while the figures were first presented as lesbian women, in Das 3. Geschlecht they are described as men wearing women’s clothing.38 It is possible that the reason for this repeated usage of the same photo was an initial lack of fashionable images available for publication, forcing the magazine to resort to simple tricks. But since this photo had been published in three successive years with the different ascriptions, and since the readers of Das 3. Geschlecht may have also been familiar with the special supplement for transvestites in Die Freundin, we can assume that at least some of them noticed the game of deceptive captioning.

And yet this photo is one of the very few in which the figures (assuming they were men) appear to successfully pass, which is of course unsurprising if they were actually women. The reader, mentioned above, who cut the image out of the magazine and constantly carried it around with them found the picture so appealing because of the figures’ fashionable appearance and perfect feminine staging. Perhaps this person was familiar with the earlier instances in which the image had been used and saw through the trick, or perhaps it was exactly this uncertainty that excited them?

Unlike most other images in the magazine, this one is given a concrete location in the caption. Yet there are actually no points of reference in the background of the image that would allow the location to be identified. By mentioning only a few cities such as Berlin, Paris, and New York – three metropolises of fashion and modernity – the editors localize transvestitism as a primarily big-city phenomenon, while the text contributions are more likely to depict the “provinces” as places of refuge and recovery. In agreement with the self-image of transvestites as big city dwellers, there are only very few images of transvestites in rural settings, let alone in rural work clothing.39

Visual Rhetorics

There is another way in which playing with the images and attributions seems to represent a conscious decision about how to use images in Das 3. Geschlecht, as the cover photos make particularly clear. In contrast to the majority of illustrations in the inside pages, the cover photos advertise the magazine with explicitly erotic stagings of femininity. The clearly visible, well-formed breasts of the exotic cover girls in issues 1 to 3 seem to place these figures outside of any kind of gender ambiguity (see figure 2.20). Inside the magazine, however, the femininity of these figures was made more ambiguous. Here the images were reprinted with captions calling our perception of femininity into question. The effect is almost absurd, because the captions so obviously contradict the visual evidence (see figure 2.21), particularly at a time when plastic surgery techniques had not advanced to point of being able to produce such perfect breasts. For example, the Egyptian dancer posing with what can only be viewed as a blatantly obvious phallus symbol in issue 1 is presented inside the magazine as a “hermaphrodite.” The figure dressed as an attractive revue dancer on the cover of issue 2 is presented with a caption that asks: “Woman or Man??” – as if there could be any doubt about the figure’s unambiguous sex. In a combination of the gender irritations found in issues 1 and 2, issue 3 adds a caption to its cover girl: “Hermaphrodite? Woman? or Man?” On the cover of issue 4, we see the back side of a nude figure with a cloth draped over their shoulders like a drape or a veil. What stands out is the graceful posture together with the somewhat affected position of the fingers in the opened hands. The lighting gently underscores the feminine contours of the hips and shoulders, while the hairstyle and jewelry reinforce the unambiguous gendering. Within the issue itself, the same image now appears with a caption pointing to the supposedly “true” sex: “Nude figure of a male transvestite from behind.” This is the only issue with a cover page depicting a person who is then explicitly described as a transvestite inside the issue.

On the cover of issue 5, by contrast, we see a woman posing half-naked from the side who is putting on boots, a pose that is vaguely reminiscent of sadomasochistic staging. The genitals and breasts are hidden by the pose. A glance in the slightly tilted hand mirror lying on the bootjack is perhaps intended to arouse viewer’s voyeuristic interest in unambiguously determining the figure’s sex. But the image’s caption inside the issue leaves the question of the figure’s apparently evident sex up to the beholder to decide: “Woman or man?” The photo seems to be modelled on the pose that Marlene Dietrich made famous in the 1930 film The Blue Angel when she lasciviously sits on top of a barrel on the stage to sing the line: “From head to toe, I’m ready for love.” Perhaps the caption is to be read as an allusion to the ambivalence of Dietrich’s sex appeal, which had an effect on both sexes?

We can only speculate about the reasons why this image was made more enigmatic inside the magazine. Perhaps this was the editors’ strategy to legitimize the decision to print erotic photos on the cover. In any case, it was not a self-evident choice for a magazine that was sold openly on the street to have such cover images.40 At the same time, with their references to the number of images inside the magazine, these covers and their layouts make a promise about the magazine’s contents that is not fulfilled inside the pages.

These speculations aside, this play with gender had a history. The strategy was introduced by Magnus Hirschfeld, who in 1904 already presented images of the Chevalier d’Éon in women’s clothing and men’s clothing, at a conference of German natural scientists and physicians. The chevalier, of whom you can find an image in the gallery devoted to "Gender Play," was an eighteenth-century French aristocrat, soldier, and spy who later lived as a woman and who had become an icon for the transvestite movement by the early twentieth century. Hirschfeld asked his colleagues to answer the question – “Man or woman?” – to prove that people whom he categorized as “sexual intermediary stages” could be equally convincing in the clothing of either sex.41 In Die Insel, Radszuweit transformed this practice into a popular quiz with a “prize question, homo- or heterosexual?” Photos of men and women, in both female and male clothing, were presented under this question, and readers were asked to identify the homosexuals.42 What is notable in this photo collage is the arrangement of images and their visual language. Above a row of four bust portraits of young men in inconspicuous, solidly bourgeois outfits, and for whom it was presumably not possible to immediately determine their sexual orientation, the editors place a young man with a clearly homosexual appearance; he is wearing women’s clothing and assumes an affected pose (grasping for her pearls, as it were), which functions in this context as a negative antitype. Beneath the row of four images, we see a young woman in riding clothes with a hat and a raised whip.43

This and other collages of images in Die Insel rely on the same canon of bourgeois values of conspicuous/inconspicuous self-presentation while also reflecting the conventional assumption against which heterosexual transvestites were fighting, namely that men who wear women’s clothing and women who wear men’s clothing were all homosexual. Whether the editors intended this or not, the visual subtexts in Die Insel and Das 3. Geschlecht are similarly ambivalent.

Visual Effects

And yet the re-depiction of the cover girls inside the pages of Das 3. Geschlecht along with irritating captions likely had other effects on the readers, because they are placed directly next to photographs of clothed transvestites. In this way, both their questioning of gender attribution and their eroticizing effects are transferred to the tableaux of photos that surround them, perhaps leading the reader to ask if the same seductive female bodies might not in fact be hidden beneath the clothing of the transvestites.

Why shouldn’t the “male transvestite in the countryside,” who appears so plain, not have an equally magnificent female body underneath her apron as does the “Revue girl” posing in complete contrast next to her (see figure 2.27)? Or why should this “New York transvestite” with a hat, little bag, blouse, and jacket not be hiding as perfect a body as the bare-breasted neighbouring figure with a pearl necklace (see figure 2.28)?

The possible meaning produced by cross-referencing the photographs placed next to each other in this way is strengthened by a further category of image, namely photos depicting male bodies. As I have noted, the cover image from issue 4 – “Rear view of a male transvestite” – reveals a perfectly embodied femininity, as do the covers of the previous issues. Inside issue 3, however, we find a “male transvestite with pronounced female bodily forms” (see figure 2.29).

Here, the male genitals clearly mark the bodies as male, but other aspects of the image render the bodies feminine: the pose, the lighting on the breast and the hips, and the extensive retouching of the penis (making it less prominent and recognizable) prompt us to imagine a mixed-gendered body. Rather than emphasizing the incongruity of the male body with the feminine figure, as is common for image practices of the time meant to illustrate sexual difference, the placing of these photos next to images of perfect femininity underscores the similarity of these bodies with those of the women. In all five issues, we find similar photos of naked men with captions that emphasize their subjects’ feminine breasts and body forms or what they identify as female facial features (see figure 2.30).

It is worth noting in passing that depicting these supposed transvestites in the nude is itself a further paradox, since transvestitism was at the time defined by the wearing of clothing, and these photos had all been published previously with different captions and ascriptions in the homosexual magazine Die Insel. In Das 3. Geschlecht, however, they served as illustrative examples of bodily gender-mixing (körperliche Mischgeschlechtlichkeit), thus providing visual evidence for the argument that transvestites comprised a physically distinct and yet “natural category of gender” – a “third sex,” as Magnus Hirschfeld emphasized again and again.44 The male nude, which appears so strangely out of place, nevertheless conveys harmonious agreement between the form of the body and the inclination of the figure’s soul, which is also reflected in a different way in the private photos of transvestites wearing clothing.

As overwrought as these captions appear, they nevertheless conformed to the vital interests of many male transvestites, namely the desire to move about “inconspicuously” in public or to be a woman. In order to get closer to this goal, some transvestites not only strove to appear feminine in their clothing and habitus but also to have a female bodily form. For this purpose, many underwent “breast injections,” as one reader writes, in order to also “appear to be a woman in one’s body.”45 In this sense, the visual rhetoric of images that emphasize feminine bodily forms marks a displacement of transvestitism from clothing as a second skin to the first skin of the body. This displacement corresponded to the desires for medical changes of sex that we find documented from 1910 onward.46 And it points to a further group of individuals who were, at the time, beginning to differentiate themselves from the transvestites: those whom Harry Benjamin and others would later call “transsexuals” and who appear as “total” or “extreme” transvestites in Hirschfeld’s sexological writing.47

The illustration practice of Das 3. Geschlecht gives rise to several considerations that may be of interest to further historical researchers. First, we should note that visual representation plays a special role for strategies in the self-empowerment and self-reassurance of transvestites, a role that is different from that played for members of other sexual and gender minorities. This is the only way to understand why so many individuals submitted their private photos for publication in the magazine. But there have been no other analyses of the image practices in the other magazines addressed to homosexual women and men produced by this or other publishers. In contrast to Das 3. Geschlecht, however, we can already say that none of these other publications contain private images sent in by private readers.

It would furthermore be interesting to examine more closely the reasons for the establishment of different factions, divided according to sex and sexual orientation, which eventually determined the conditions for the increasing dominance of self-images of heterosexual transvestites over the course of the magazine’s five issues. This would also lead to the overarching historical question of how gender and sexual minorities dealt with each other. In addition to the frictions I have discussed here: were there also groups that valued each other, had common interests, undertook common activities, or showed solidarity with each other? Looking at the clientele in the Institute for Sexual Science, we can say that the interactions between homosexuals, transvestites, and individuals who were intersex was largely determined by existing social norms and structures of prejudice.48 That Friedrich Radszuweit, a publisher whose magazines were mainly addressed to homosexual men and women, had decided to initiate a transvestite magazine such as Das 3. Geschlecht can nevertheless certainly be understood as an act of solidarity. In the end, the significance of commercial interests appears to have been secondary. Even more important than the commercial failure, this project was an unsuccessful attempt on the part of Radszuweit’s press to transfer the organizing model of homosexuals to male and female transvestites.

How images migrated between homosexual and transvestite magazines produced by the same publisher, along with the corresponding relabelling of photos, certainly points to a certain permeability of the barriers between these minorities. At the same time, the editors of Das 3. Geschlecht largely consisted of homosexual men who chose the images and gave them captions and thus expressed judgements about the staging of heterosexual transvestite readers. However, this normative commentary ultimately derived from the same petit-bourgeois set of values that also shaped the text contributions written by the transvestites themselves. Seen in this way, the homosexual editors of the magazine operated at the boundary between the production of images representing self-perception and the perception of the self by others.

GALLERY NOTES: Lotte Hahm

1 Information about Lotte Hahm’s biography is taken from Jens Dobler, Vom anderen Ufer: Geschichte der Berliner Lesben und Schwulen in Kreuzberg und Friedrichshain (Berlin: Bruno Gmünder Verlag GmbH, 2003), 111–16, 228, and 250; Heike Schader, Virile, Vamps und wilde Veilchen: Sexualität, Begehren und Erotik in den Zeitschriften homosexueller Frauen im Berlin der 1920er Jahre (Königstein/Taunus: Helmer, 2004), 76–7; and Claudia Schoppmann, Nationalsozialistische Sexualpolitik und weibliche Homosexualität (Pfaffenweiler: Centaurus, 1997), 166.

GALLERY NOTES: Voo-Doo

1 See Samuel Clowes Huneke, “Death Wish: Suicide and Stereotype in the Gay Discourses of Imperial and Weimar Germany,” New German Critique 46, no. 1 (2019): 127–66; Clowes contrasts this use with masculinist writers who depicted gay suicides sympathetically.

2 See Dobler, “Der Travestiekünstler Willi Pape alias Voo-Doo,” as well Jens Dobler, Von anderen Ufern: Geschichte der Berliner Lesben und Schwulen in Kreuzberg und Friedrichshain (Berlin: Bruno Gmünder Verlag, 2003), 155–63.

GALLERY NOTES: Gender Play

1 “Motto: Tout va par degrees dans la nature et rien par sauts. Leibniz”; Magnus Hirschfeld, Geschlechts-Übergänge: Mischungen männlicher und weiblicher Geschlechtscharaktere (sexuelle Zwischenstufen) (Leipzig: Verlag der Monatsschrift für Harnkrankheiten und sexuelle Hygiene, W. Malende, 1905).

2 “dass Geschlecht als Rätsel und nicht als Lösung existiert”; Kathrin Peters, Rätselbilder des Geschlechts: Körperwissen und Medialität um 1900 (Zurich: Diaphenes, 2018), 9. Peters traces the origins of these images, as well as one later use of this them in 1995, in an essay where the montage was altered, as an entrée into thinking about masculinity and femininity as a “Maskerade, als Positionen innerhalb oszillierender Zuschreibungen von Geschlechtsidentitäten, die jedes Subjekt schon immer spalten” (masquerade, as a position within the oscillating designations of gender identities that have always divided every subject), 11.

3 Hirschfeld, Sexualpathologie, Bd. I (1921, 2nd edition), Tafel V.

NOTES TO CHAPTER 2

1 The first important publications devoted to the medical and/or emancipatory practices of illustration for gender and sexual minorities in the German-speaking world are Katharina Sykora, “Umkleidekabinen des Geschlechts: Sexualmedizinische Fotografie im frühen 20. Jahrhundert,” Fotogeschichte 24, no. 92 (2004): 15–30; Kathrin Peters, Rätselbilder des Geschlechts: Körperwissen und Medialität um 1900 (Zürich: Diaphenes Verlag, 2010); Susanne Regener and Katrin Köppert, “Medienamateure in der homosexuellen Kultur,” in privat/ öffentlich: Mediale Selbstentwürfe von Homosexualität, ed. Susanne Regener and Katrin Köppert (Vienna: Turia & Kant, 2013), 7–17, esp. 11. See also Michael Thomas Taylor, Annette F. Timm, and Rainer Herrn, eds, Not Straight from Germany: Sexual Publics and Sexual Citizenship since Magnus Hirschfeld (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2017).

2 Another exception in this regard is Magnus Hirschfeld’s publication practices, which attempted to provide evidence for his “Zwischenstufentheorie” (theory of gender and sexual intermediary stages) through visual argumentation beginning as early as 1904. Magnus Hirschfeld, Geschlechts-Übergänge: Mischungen männlicher und weiblicher Geschlechtscharaktere (sexuelle Zwischenstufen) (Leipzig: Verlag der Monatsschrift für Harnkrankheiten und sexuelle Hygiene, W. Malende, 1905).

3 Rainer Herrn, Das 3. Geschlecht: Reprint der 1930–1932 erschienen Zeitschrift für Transvestiten (Hamburg: Männerschwarm Verlag, 2016). In addition to comments on illustration practice, the volume’s afterword also contains detailed considerations of the texts sent to the magazine by readers, and to the various attempts made to found transvestite associations.

4 I have largely avoided the medical term “transvestite” in this article, using the neutral term “cross-dresser” instead, although many readers of the journal Das 3. Geschlecht explicitly referred to themselves as male and female transvestites and were also addressed as such by the editorial staff.

5 This asymmetrical dialogue was in fact initiated by men who considered themselves “sexually normal,” meaning heterosexual. In instances where women were involved, I use feminine pronouns; in instance where men were involved, I use male pronouns. Magnus Hirschfeld, Die Transvestiten: Eine Untersuchung über den erotischen Verkleidungstrieb (Berlin: Alfred Pulvermacher & Co., 1910).

6 Only later did Hirschfeld notice the existence of homosexual transvestites and what he called “mixed-sex” transvestites, or individuals identifying with other nonbinary genders; Magnus Hirschfeld, Sexualpathologie: Ein Lehrbuch für Ärzte und Studierende, vol. 2 (Bonn: A. Marcus & E. Webers Verlag, 1918), esp. 139–78.

7 Rainer Herrn, Schnittmuster des Geschlechts: Transvestitismus und Transsexualität in der frühen Sexualwissenschaft (Giessen: Psychosozial-Verlag, 2005), 31–42.

8 Hirschfeld, Sexualpathologie, 142.

9 Magnus Hirschfeld, Sexualität und Kriminalität (Vienna: Interterritorialer Verl. “Renaissance,” 1924), 42. This is not only the single reference to the association by name that has been found. It also marks, in general, the tentative beginning of movements to organize, even if accompanied by exclusionary measures.

10 Lothar Goldmann, “Über das Wesen des Umkleidungstriebes,” Geschlecht und Gesellschaft 12 (1924–25): 281–96 and 334–78, esp. 294.

11 Goldmann, “Über das Wesen des Umkleidungstriebes,” 353.

12 Ibid.

13 Ibid., 349.

14 Ibid., 353–4.

15 Radszuweit was chair of the Bund für Menschenrecht, editor of the most widely circulating homosexual magazines, author of homosexual trivial novels, bookseller, and also an event organizer. For an account of the relationship between his various functions, see Jens Dobler and Kristine Schmidt, “Die Bewegung der Weimarer Republik beginnt in Pankow,” in Verzaubert in Nord-Ost: Die Geschichte der Berliner Lesben und Schwulen in Prenzlauer Berg, Pankow und Weißensee, ed. Jens Dobler (Berlin: Gmünder, 2006), 43–51; and Jens Dobler, “Nachwort,” in Männer zu verkaufen: Ein Wirklichkeitsroman aus der Welt der männlichen Erpresser und Prostituierten (Hamburg: Männerschwarm Verlag, 2012), 159–78.

16 After a great deal of research among private collectors and antique booksellers, I was able to acquire all five issues of Das 3. Geschlecht; the facsimile edition appeared in 2016 with Männerschwarmskript publishers. Herrn, Das 3. Geschlecht. I would like to thank the publisher of the series, Wolfram Setz.

17 Magnus Hirschfeld and Max Tilke, Der erotische Verkleidungstrieb (Die Transvestiten), vol. 2: Illustrierter Teil (Berlin: Alfred Pulvermacher & Co., 1912).

18 Hirschfeld, Sexualpathologie, 166. Hirschfeld gave his 1910 monograph about transvestites the subtitle “Eine Untersuchung über den erotischen Verkleidungstrieb” (An examination of the erotic drive to cross-dress) – a blanket generalization that many transvestites rejected. See Hirschfeld, Die Transvestiten.

19 Regener and Köppert, “Medienamateure in der homosexuellen Kultur,” 13.

20 See Das 3. Geschlecht 1 (1930): 1 and 2 (1930): 11. For more on Von-Doo, see Jens Dobler, “Der Travestiekünstler Willi Pape alias Voo-Doo,” Invertio – Jahrbuch für die Geschichte der Homosexualitäten 6 (2004): 110–21.

21 Two parts of a series about "Gender Disguise on Stage" were even included in the issues of the special supplement Transvestit. The authorship was noted as “nach Sanitätsrat Dr. Hirschfeld” – “According to Medical Counselor Dr. Hirschfeld.” See “Geschlechtsverkleidung auf der Bühne,” Die Freundin 1, no. 4 (1924): n.p. This text consisted of excerpts from the chapter with the same title from Hirschfeld’s monograph, which Radszuweit had perhaps used for the magazine without Hirschfeld’s permission, since the series suddenly stops after the second instalment.

22 Dr. Wegner, "Männer als Frauen–Frauen als Männer,” Das 3. Geschlecht, 1930, esp. 2.

23 Das 3. Geschlecht 1 (1930): 7 and 2 (1930): 9.

24 Verlag und Redaktion, “ Das 3. Geschlecht Geschlecht,’ Heft II erscheint demnächst!” Die Freundin, n.d.

25 Yet it is worth noting that these requests for images did not appear in Das 3. Geschlecht but in the special supplement to Die Freundin.

26 Ema Katero, “Stimmen aus dem Leserkreis über Das 3. Geschlecht,” Die Freundin, 1930, emphasis in the original.

27 See the unnumbered advertisements page of Die Freundin 8, no. 19 (1932).

28 Vera von Roman, “Sehr geehrte Redaktion!” Die Welt der Transvestiten. Sonderteil der Zeitschrift Die Freundin, 1930, emphasis in the original.

29 Herrn, Schnittmuster des Geschlechts, 61–4 and 116–19; Geertje Mak, “Hirschfeld und die Transvestiten: Warum es nie was geworden ist zwischen Frauen in Männerkleidern und der Sexualwissenschaft,” in Dokumentation einer Vortragsreihe in der Akademie der Künste:100 Jahre Schwulenbewegung, ed. Manfred Herzer (Berlin: Rosa Winkel, 1998), 157–69.

30 Ein Transvestit aus der Provinz, “Stimmen aus dem Leserkreis über Das 3. Geschlecht,” Die Freundin, 1930.

31 The word Sache has a multivalent meaning. It could simply be read as “issue” or “cause,” but it is likely that the writer meant this to refer to actual activism: a public campaign for acceptance.

32 Anna Maria H. E., “Etwas zum ‘Sammeln,’” Die Welt der Transvestiten. Sonderteil der Zeitschrift Die Freundin, 1931.

33 On the changing editorial influence of Friedrich Radszuweit and his adoptive son Martin Radszuweit and its effect on the profile of these publications, see Heike Schader, Virile, Vamps und wilde Veilchen: Sexualität, Begehren und Erotik in den Zeitschriften homosexueller Frauen im Berlin der 1920er Jahre (Königstein: Helmer, 2004), 44–178. On Radszuweit’s social associations, see Dobler, “Nachwort,” 159–78.

34 Rainer Herrn, “Transvestismus in der NS-Zeit,” Zeitschrift für Sexualforschung 26, no. 4 (2013): 330–71, esp. 332. Moreover, in larger cities the police maintained a transvestite registry that contained information about biological sex, sexual orientation, and the reason for the person’s registration by the police – especially in the case of punishable acts (Herrn, “Transvestismus in der NS-Zeit,” 334).

35 See, among other sources, Das 3. Geschlecht 3 (1930): 24 and 5 (1930): 31, bottom right.

36 Grete M., “Transvestiten über sich selbst, Gedanken zum Transvestitismus,” Das 3. Geschlecht, 1932.

37 See Die Freundin 4, no. 10 (1928): cover. Only with this first publication of the image is the photographer named as Manuel Frères. For the second publication, see Die Freundin 5, no. 5 (1929): cover.

38 Similar image migrations with instances of relabeling can also be found in sexological publications; on this point, see Rainer Herrn, “Bildergeschichte(n): Metamorphotische Inszenierungen der sexualwissenschaftlichen Fotografie,” Mitteilungen der Magnus- Hirschfeld-Gesellschaft, 104–8, nos 37–38 (2007).

39 See Das 3. Geschlecht 3 (1931): 17, and 5 (1932): 32.

40 For the magazine Die Ehe (Marriage), published at the same time by an employee of the Institute for Sexual Science, Ludwig Levy-Lenz, two cover images were used: an openly erotic image for distribution by mail, which was covered up by a more “decent” cover page intended for public sale.

41 Magnus Hirschfeld, Geschlechts-Übergänge: Mischungen männlicher und weiblicher Geschlechtscharaktere (sexuelle Zwischenstufen) (Leipzig: Max von Spohr, 1913), http:// edoc.hu-berlin.de/docviews/abstract. php?lang=ger&id=37433, Plates XXXVII–XXX. On this point, see Peters, Rätselbilder des Geschlechts, 7–8.

42 “Preisfrage, homo- oder heterosexuell?,” Die Insel 1, no. 1 (1926): 17.

43 While the man in women’s clothing with the changing captions was also published in other contexts in Die Freundin and Das 3. Geschlecht, the woman with the whip is found “only” in Das 3. Geschlecht.

44 See, for instance, the nude photo from the front in issue 2, page 10, which was captioned with the words: “Especially note the girl-like face and the female bodily forms.” In issue 3, page 10, we read regarding another photo: “Male transvestite with pronounced female bodily forms; note especially the beginnings of a breast.” And in issue 3, on pages 29 and 31, we find three similar stagings of bodies.

45 Hilde Baronin Rotenburg, “Die Not der Transvestiten,” Die Welt der Transvestiten. Sonderteil der Zeitschrift Die Freundin, 1929.

46 Beginning in 1910, we also have evidence of the removal of primary sexual characteristics for this purpose, either by transvestites themselves or with the help of doctors, until actual sex changes were demanded beginning in 1916. This was spurred on by research into hormones and genital surgery, and was actually carried out beginning in 1920–21. On this point, see Rainer Herrn, “Die operative Geschlechtsumwandlung als Experiment am Menschen,” in Sexualität als Experiment? Identität, Lust und Reproduktion zwischen Science und Fiction, ed. Nicolas Pethes and Silke Schicktanz (Frankfurt am Main and New York: Campus Verlag, 2008), 45–70.

47 Hirschfeld, Geschlechtskunde, 592.

48 Rainer Herrn, “Ge- und erlebte Vielfalt – Sexuelle Zwischenstufen im Institut für Sexualwissenschaft,” Sexuologie: Zeitschrift für Sexualmedizin, Sexualtherapie und Sexualwissenschaft 20, nos 1–2 (2013): 6–14.