50 shades of opinion

Having been writing erotica for several years now, I'm rather annoyed that the media seem to represent 'Fifty Shades' as the first erotic book ever written, or written for women, or by a woman. ('Story of O', anyone? Anais Nin?)

Opinion seems to be polarised. On the one hand there are the nay-sayers. It's really badly written, it isn't Anna Karenina, there are some annoying verbal tics (like the way the heroine keeps saying 'Aargh', a vocalisation more usual in the esteemed pages of the Dandy and the Beano).

On the other hand there are the pro-Greys. They praise the plot, the sex, the fact that they get off on it. They don't (and this might be important) praise the writing or the characterisation, for the most part.

From what I've seen, the book is pretty competently written. It's not Ulysses, it's not Hamlet, it's not the Aeneid or Dante's Divine Comedy, and to be honest, what is? I don't hear people dissing Chuck Palaniuk because he's not Cormac McCarthy.

I just have two problems with the book.

First, the heroine. Argh! (you might say) - what a limp, characterless, dim little bimbo. I really hate this kind of erotica. (It seems quite widespread, perhaps along the lines that fat, plain, frumpish readers want to read about fat, plain, frumpish girls getting soundly fucked. Unfortunately they don't have the wit or the appealing eccentrities of the original, Miss Bridget Jones.)

And secondly, the fact that it's not really serious S&M. Cable ties? Surely not! And to my taste, it doesn't really explore the emotional territory that goes with bondage and domination - the feeling of danger blended with trust. You can get a lot closer to that just by putting on a blindfold and having a friend guide you around the house with it on - something actors often do as a trust exercise in the early stages of rehearsals. To be honest, I felt anyone who has done any sort of mask work as an actor, or used trust games of this sort, understands more about S&M than Mr Grey, who is just a pervy sort of Gordon Gecko.

Yes, I'm annoyed that the press thinks '50 Shades' is the be-all and end-all of erotica. And I do wish I made a bit more money at the writing game. Perhaps if I did a '50 shades of Agatha Christie's Mousetrap', with a murder mystery set in a dungeon, or '50 shades of pink' (the Lesbian version), I'd make a fortune... But heck, I'm going to carry on doing what I'm doing - writing my own imaginations and my own fantasies. Because that's what writers do.

Disclosure: No, I haven't read the whole series. But I have read quite a few chapters, and quite a lot of the comment on the books.

The Austen-Leigh Erotica Paradox

I came across a nice piece of writing by Anais Nin on Letters of Note, via 'The Millions' (an interesting literary RSS feed):

http://www.lettersofnote.com/2012/06/sex-does-not-thrive-on-monotony.html

It's absolutely right. He-fucked-her-with-his-big-cock stories, and 'aaaah! fuck fuck fuck I'm coming' dialogue, are all very well for a quick wank if you really have to - but they're totally disposable. You have nothing invested in them.

• Nothing invested in the characters, because a 44 FFF blonde just isn't a character. She's a blow-up doll. (In fact, I rather liked a piece of erotica where the fuckee character was a blow-up doll: http://www.everynighterotica.com/breath-of-life-p-j-rosier/.)
• Nothing invested in the language. It's either Anglo-Saxon obscenities or - which personally I find worse, because it reminds me of visits to the gynaecologist - medically correct terminology. (On the other hand, witty use of language brings an erotic story to life; the wonderful pastiche of fantasy books in 'The Barbarian King' makes the story memorable and amusing. Steve Isaak's 'Blasphemos gamisia', marvellously, takes the deck of cards, cuts, shuffles, and makes an erotic fantasy out of a hand of poker.)
• Nothing invested in the setting. So the characters are, as it were, screwing in a vacuum. Just because you're writing erotica doesn't mean you can't evoke interesting settings, whether gritty urban streets or the canals and carnival masks of Venice, deep Russian forest or the genteel streets of Regency London. (I spent a lot of time getting my Red Shoes just right in this regard. I don't think it would be quite the same story if I transposed it to modern London or New York.)
• Nothing invested in the plot, because it's always the same; fuck, orgasm, and repeat ad infinitum. Monotonous as it is making a loaf of bread, at least after all the kneading and resting, kneading and resting, you finally get to put it in the oven and bake it. But even the most simple story can use wit, or a non-sexual obstacle, to create a plot that works. (At the extreme, my How not to have sex is almost all obstacle - though it packs quite a bit of sex in as well. Julius' story 'Second Serving' does it by introducing one couple actually doing it, and a third party getting excited by it... and has a neat surprise ending.)

So to some extent, the more you write about sex, the less exciting it gets; whereas the more you write about other things - whether that's cards, ballet, weightless environments in space, painting, or blackmail, whatever it is - the more exciting the sex becomes. And that, dear readers, is the Austen-Leigh Erotica Paradox.