NEW YORK, NY — During a time when accusations of obscenity are being leveled against such infamously hardcore porn producers as Extreme Associates and JM Productions, the legal transgressions of the past can often seem pale and innocent by comparison. Yet the reality of obscenity prosecution was as intense in the past as it is today. Ralph Ginzburg spent eight months in federal prison in 1963 after being convicted of obscenity. On Thursday, July 6th, the 76-year-old Ginzburg died in a Bronx hospital after a three year battle with multiple myeloma. Ginzburg, who was born to Russian immigrant parents and studied to be an accountant until encouraged to pursue journalism by a college professor, was the focal point for two First Amendment battles during the 1960s that included a court battle with presidential candidate Barry Goldwater.

A reporter and editor by trade, Ginzburg began publishing Eros and a number of other small publications in 1962. The hardcover magazine was an erotic art quarterly which he attempted to mail from Middlesex, NJ to various places throughout the country via United States Postal Service. When he attempted to send the fourth issue from Intercourse, PA, the government stepped in, accusing and convicting him of using “salacious” promotional methods to promote obscenity.

Ginzburg appealed his case all the way to the Supreme Court, which, in 1966, handed down one of its final federal decisions on obscenity and upheld his conviction. Although sentenced to five years, he ultimately served eight months during the 1972.

Eros did more than simply offend the U.S. government by using its postal service. While magazines such as Playboy catered exclusively to the fantasies of American men, Eros sought to expand the coverage of sexuality to include politics, history, art, and literature. Its contributors included such luminaries as Nan Hentoff, Albert Ellis, and Arthur Herzog and the photographs in its short run ranged from nudes of Marilyn Monroe to a photo essay featuring interracial models.

Nonetheless, the Supreme Court concluded that “the purveyor’s sole emphasis” was “on the sexually provocative aspects of his publications,” and thus all of the publications in question were obscene because of their method of delivery, even if they might be considered marginally acceptable otherwise. This included not only Eros, but also the biweekly newsletter Liaison, and The Housewife’s Handbook on Selective Promiscuity.

Ginzburg never agreed with the government’s conclusions regarding his publications and later wrote that in his book Castrated: My Eight Months in Prison that “‘Obscenity’ or ‘pornography’ is a crime without definition or victim. It is a bag of smoke used to conceal one’s own dislikes with regard to aspects of sex.” He dedicated the book to his wife and collaborator, Shoshanna.

In 1964 Ginzburg found himself once again embroiled in controversy when his political magazine Fact polled 12,000 psychiatrists to ask if they believed Barry Goldwater to be “psychologically fit to be president of the United States.” According to him, the responses indicated that the Arizona GOP senator was emotionally distant from his own father and likely paranoid. Goldwater, who lost the election by a landslide, sued for libel and won one dollar in compensatory damages and $75,000 in punitive damages. The decision was upheld upon appeal to the Supreme Court in 1970.

Fact was the first magazine to publish Ralph Nader, who was at that time a student at Harvard.

From 1968 through 1971 Ginzburg published Avant Garde, an art and culture mag that included erotic materials but focused more on radical politics, including a “War No More” poster competition. Fans of the publication included John Lennon and Pablo Picasso. Alas, it was not a financial success and Ginzburg’s bottom line was only saved by his consumer periodical, Moneysworth, which had a circulation of 2.4 million copies.

At 55 Ginzburg left publishing to be a photojournalist and sold his first photo to The New York Post. He continued working as a freelance spot-news photographer until three weeks prior to his death.

Survived by his wife of 49 years, a son, two daughters, and three grandchildren, Ginzburg died believing that he could have achieved far greater successes had it not been for his legal woes.
“Thus my publishing potential after release from prison was severely circumscribed,” he concluded. “I have always felt that I might have become a major force in American publishing had it not been for my conviction. Instead, I’m just a curious footnote.”