Therefore, Celie has still not experienced sexual orgasm, but she has "awakened" to the distinction between rough sex and making love. She knows that rough, ramming sex is not love; rape of one's wife is barbaric and, in contrast, making love is pure and natural and tender. But Celie has never yet made love to a man.
Now that Celie has shed her stoic, protective husk, she can admit and even indulge in a little self-pity. She tells Shug that nobody ever loved her, which is not wholly true. Nettie loved Celie; she still does. But no one has ever "made love" to Celie — not in the sense that a physical lover would make love to her. Therefore, Shug tells Celie that she loves Celie, and their passionate kissing and fondling is so intense that it overwhelms Celie. She describes feeling as though she were a "little lost baby." Celie makes love for the first time (Letter 47); she is no longer a virgin.
Shug, the flashy blues singer whom some people think of as shallow and immoral, is a strong, positive character in this novel. She gives great value to Celie's life, and, likewise, she does a similar thing for Squeak. She encourages Squeak to sing, despite Harpo's old-fashioned notion that "good" women don't sing in jukejoints. Not surprisingly, Shug gets her way, and Squeak realizes that she, Mary Agnes, can sing.
