I read a review of "It Takes Two" yesterday (by someone I don't know called Ryan), which runs, in part:
I liked the prose in general, but there are a few descriptive passages that feel like generic erotica (i.e., the sex has to be super-awesome and mind blowing). I’m not sure this sort of idealized fantasy sexuality has any place in a story that wants to examine human relationships in a serious way.This is not the first time, or even the hundred-and-first time, a reviewer has said that the kind of sex I write is fantastical in the unrealistic sense.
A few years ago I was on a panel with two or three other writers and the talk turned to sex in literature. It turned out everyone on the panel (except me) thought all fictional depictions of people having good sex were ridiculous because sex was never, ever super-awesome and mind blowing. No, they said, sex was comical and self-conscious; sex was fumbling and clumsy; sex was embarrassing. Sex, everyone (except me) agreed, never went right the first time, so why did writers insist on writing as though it did?
I didn't say much on that panel because I was shocked by the notion that so many people thought and felt this way. I'm older now. I've heard this supposition many times. I'm tired of it.
In my experience, sex really is super-awesome and mind blowing. It really is astonishing, transporting, and ecstatic. It really is the closest thing on this earth that we'll come to swimming in a tide of light and magic. If it's not that way for you, maybe you're doing it wrong.
I understand you might not agree, that this might not be your experience. But it is mine. The very first time I got completely naked with a woman and had sex it wasn't miserable or difficult or tense. It was better than anything I could possibly have imagined. Better than anything I've ever read in a book. I write about the best sex possible and, frankly, it doesn't come close to the tearing brilliance of the real thing.
Yes, sex can be bad (and I've written about that, too) but that just makes it bad sex, the same way having a bad job is just having a bad job. Does that mean there's no such thing as a great job, or that anyone who writes about someone having a great job (or drinking the perfect glass of wine, or weeping at an uplifting piece of music) is writing idealised fantasy?
Sex is about the body. A by-product of our bodily design is the urge to seek out and luxuriate in the things that are good for us: sex and sunshine, food and cool, clean water. These things of the body--the seeking and finding and satiating, then the weighing of same--are exactly the lenses through which I want to examine the human animal.
So don't tell me my experience isn't valid, don't tell me great sex isn't a worthy subject for serious literature. Get over your Puritanical dualist crap and admit the world is a big place, full of difference. Open your arms to it, feel it on your skin.
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"Just a quick note to let you know I am awesome in bed..."
ReplyDeleteI kid! Yeah, the idea the failure is the only experience with verisimilitude is a prevalent one in a lot of middlebrow literature these days, paired off with the idea that only suffering equates to a valuable emotion (see also: the Oscars). It bores me; Feel Bad literature is so much sloppier than even juvenile comedy.
More like "Just a quick note to say just about everyone I've had sex with is awesome in bed..." :)
ReplyDeleteYep, I'm sick of misery lit, failure lit, small-time-small-life lit. Tuh.
The message I get from this is that if you must write sex, as a serious writer you will not write it in a way that might arouse your audience. If the reader squirms through the sex the way that an eleven-year old might fidget while her mom tells her about "becoming a woman," or better yet, skims or skips it, then your reputation as a writer is safe.
ReplyDeleteAs an erotica writer, I'm of course beyond the pale and can never produce work of merit. Don't be like me. Keep your sex scenes awkward and icky.
Whether one agrees with your general point or not, that the sex in the story was too good seems a particularly inapt comment to make in this case. Given what draws the two characters together, how could the reviewer possibly expect disappointing results?
ReplyDeleteKathleen, yeah, I don't know when this fashion for misery, awkwardness, and failure began, but it drives me up the wall.
ReplyDeleteJames, lust tends to lower the IQ. It's just that some people don't like to admit this, don't like to admit that mind is dependent upon brain and body. They like to think they're Above All That. So they make their bad judgement calls and don't understand why.
ReplyDeleteSo, hey, in this case, you could say the inapt comment was my own fault for writing sex that triggered the reader's mirror neurones :)
Thanks, Nicola. I'm reading this, vigorously nodding, smiling, and fist-bumping you through the screen. Wish I had a point or two of further substance to add, but you spoke my mind and experience with cleaner precision than I would have.
ReplyDeleteAs you put it: Tuh.
Mark, :: fist bump ::
ReplyDeleteHow sad for all those people who can't understand/believe in the ecstasy that sex can be. And it's also too bad that people like that have to validate themselves by tearing down other people's experiences. I think you hit it on the head when you said that about lowering the IQ. Maybe those people never have mind blowing sex because they are afraid to let go like that. I would hate to be in a relationship with anyone that thinks sex like that doesn't belong there. Whoa.
ReplyDeleteI suspect a lot of people do not have good sex and read descriptions of it with resentment. But it's petty to resent it, so they transform it into intellectual superiority and condemn it as trashy romance writing.
ReplyDeleteI have also noted that when the sex in a story is written to illuminate character, some people *really* fidget and often condemn it as gratuitous (while pretty much ignoring genuinely gratuitous writing), so all these people dissing the words are probably reacting out of a sense that they just don't get it.
Which is sad.
But you have to wonder (or maybe not) just what it is that passes for sex for them. In all honesty, I've never had bad sex. As an old friend of mine used to say, "It's all good, some's better." That's been my experience.
The only other question to ask, just where do these folks think sex actually happens?
jennifer, I'm beginning to think good sex might--like just about everything else on the planet--be connected to good self-esteem. You've got to believe...
ReplyDeleteMark, I've been puzzled by this notion of the sex in "It Takes Two" being gratutitous and pornographic (and let's not forget the sheer number of times it's been labelled lesbian, with that particular lip curl of contempt--there should be a font for it). I find the whole thing just...well, rant-worthy.
I think you're probably right. It takes good self esteem to feel good enough to take a chance on letting go and possibly looking foolish to some.
ReplyDeleteHard to see how the sex in ITT could be considered gratuitous since it factors heavily in the whole plot and question. Pornographic? What?!?
Good rant!
But not all of us feel the same way about sex. And it doesn't have to be about low self-esteem. It's something asexuals constantly struggle with in trying to deal with a society that places lots of importance on sex. What some consider totally normal and even healthy for others, may not feel or seem that way to those who don't feel about sex the same way. So, the asexual who also happens to be an author and/or reader, will skip right over any sex scene. It just isn't interesting. The author won't include it in their literature. Does that make the story any less worthy or notable or natural?
ReplyDeleteThanks for the interesting post, Nicola.
I work in the sex industry (at a retail level, not anything too exciting) and I can't thank you enough for pointing this out. I see that "it can't be good, it has to be real instead" attitude every day, and it amazes me that so many people keep their adolescent hangups and cherish them instead of flushing them. I'm going to send people to this article when I see them whining about perfect sex scenes.
ReplyDeleteThis isn't about It Takes Two, which I've not yet read, but I do feel compelled to mention that I have seen "good sex" in books that I didn't find very realistic. I certainly believe in good sex, but it was the writing itself that made me doubt the author's idea of what good sex is, much like when I read something about a subculture I'm familiar with written by someone who clearly hasn't lived it. I don't want those authors to stop writing what they consider fantastic sex, but since I suspect they're idealizing something they haven't experienced, I'd rather they went and HAD good sex first and THEN wrote about it. ;)
It's entirely possible that most people have never had that kind of sex. It could, I suppose, be the Occam's razor explanation for the dismissal of amazing sex as incredible. If one repeatedly had bad or mediocre sex, one would learn to see that as normal. And the thought of other people having the amazing sex that oneself had never had might then trigger deep subconscious feelings of inferiority that needed to be warded off by rejecting such a scenario as impossible. [/psychobabble]
ReplyDeleteAs Patty notes, sexual feelings and response exist in a continuum, like most every other aspect of our humanity. Maybe the ability to have amazing sex is a gift, like a kind of creativity. Some people might have little or no aptitude; many/most would have varying degrees of aptitude that could be developed and improved on with practice. But they would never have the same level of experience as those who had a true gift for it.
Personally, the only way that I can relate to awesome, mind-blowing sex scenes is as fantasy. I mean, I can imagine what it might be like to think and feel and respond in those ways, but my mind and body don't really work like that. There's just nothing there that speaks to me on a personal, experiential level. It definitely sounds good, and I like imagining that it could be how I work, but it's just not how I really do.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure that for the people who have had mind-blowing sex or sex that was sufficiently similar, it's perfectly realistic to describe other people as having mind-blowing sex. The scene passes without comment, because it's perceived as normal. It's just that for those of us with zero grasp of mind-blowing sex as a personal possibility, there's nothing to really ground that idea for us, so we're left taking it entirely on faith.
And when it comes to accepting ideas on nothing but faith in order to follow a story... well, one does that when reading about dragons, too. It truly doesn't diminish the story to do so, or make the relationships within it any less realistic.
Patty, interesting. I wonder if we different in other ways, too. For example, when I lost my sense of taste for a year or so, and thought I'd never get it back, I loved reading about smell and taste and fictional characters' responses to it. I wanted to experience what it meant to them, even if I couldn't do it. Anyway, you've given me a challenge. Thanks for that.
ReplyDeleteAnon @5:02, suspension of disbelief depends, I think, on the quality of writing. But, today, because I'm feeling bloody difficult, I refuse to believe that my writing is at fault in "It Takes Two" :)
Sometimes I wonder where the passion went. How long since there was an impassioned protest. Think back to the Greenham Common days for example. I know there have been protests - marginal - G20 meetings etc. I really feel as though the world has changed. Agree with an early post in this thread - passion is about life - food, wine, women, music - it's about a completeness, a giving, openness, abandonment, trust and heart. And I wonder about the currency of sex, is it McDonalds now instead of luxurious restaurant? Have expectations been lowered? Is fast food, cask wine & the "music industry" lowering sensitivity to awareness?
ReplyDeleteJude, I think most Western-style lives lower awareness of the body. I think that in turn limits passion, which is a body-based lifeform.
ReplyDeleteI guess I set off this discussion with a poorly worded, off-the-cuff review, but I think I'm glad I did because it was a great read.
ReplyDeleteThe main point I wanted to clarify is that I do believe sex can be, and often is, "super-awesome and mind blowing." I just think (outside of erotica) it's also usually comical/self-conscious/fumbling/clumsy along the way, especially the first time. I think that mix is really interesting, but you rarely see it in even the best prose.
I'm sorry that the review offended; I think it came off much harsher than I meant it. The comment here that most got me thinking (besides Nicola's original post) is Kathleen's. Writing an sf-review blog, I often think about the so-called "sf ghetto," but I was completely unaware that I was doing the same thing to erotica. I was probably too dismissive of the genre.
Ryan, thanks for dropping by. I don't feel particularly offended, I feel exasperated.
ReplyDeleteReaders often criticise authors for not writing fiction the way they, the reader, would. I can't speak for other writers, but I don't write fumbling sex scenes because, well, for me they're not real. Those for whom they are real should write them. Add to that the fact that "It Takes Two" is about the Best. Sex. Eva. and how a person might be conditioned/programmed to achieve that, and what the consequences might be--and the sex had to be mind-blowing.
Hence my exasperation. Make sense?
Nicola, this post is definitely a reason I am going to go get your book. I have been searching lesbian blog sites all day and it is exhausting. I have experienced both sides of sex (with the same person, believe it or not). My partner and I have had mind altering insanely good sex... as you can guess, for the first year. Our sex is still always good, but there can be a lot of awkwardness leading up to it (and she has been lazy to put it lightly because of a recent battle with low self esteem). I am also a bit like you, I sort of demand good sex. It's what I know, its what I'm capable of, and it's what I demand. This demanding part of my personality has put an awkward pressure on my sex life. Anyway, bravo, and can't wait to read the book. Also, I started a new blog today (I've been writing for lesbian publications but this is my first blog and I think you will REALLY enjoy it). www.thedesignerlesbian.wordpress.com
ReplyDeleteVery nifty post indeed! Well-expressed.
ReplyDelete"The very first time I got completely naked with a woman and had sex it wasn't miserable or difficult or tense. It was better than anything I could possibly have imagined."
Just love these lines!
I'm still appalled at how miserable most women's first-sex stories are. It makes me want to bang the world's head on the wall.
DeleteGreat post. Mostly I'll say, "What she said," to Kathleen. (Hi Kathleen!)
ReplyDeleteI often find that people who meet me -- readers, writers, people who like books and stories -- will not bother to read my work because it's "erotica." Sometimes I'll send them a piece and they will be *shocked* that it's good! Or they like my other writing and ask me why I don't do more of *that*?
But they will *not* go out and buy a book with my fiction in it because you know, the whole genre must be useless cuz it's about sex, right?
I've just been listening to a more-or-less hagiographic New Yorker podcast about Hilary Mantel. I think she's a great writer--not a term I use loosely--but was shocked (yes, again, even after all these years) at the casual prejudice against genre on display.
DeleteWe do all have our prejudices as readers--we're human, after all, but our job as thinking, learning, empathetic human being is to not respond from those prejudices. So: I hear you.