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2.95 AVERAGE
2.95 AVERAGE
There's nothing like a good dirty book to clear the mind. This book is a classic for a great reason, which is that it is as dirty as they get without curse words. Don't go looking too deeply into the plot or try to figure out what's going on in anyone's mind - just go with the flow.
Other readers have tried to spin this book into social satire, but don't go there either. If Cleland had meant it to be a commentary on anything related to reality, why doesn't any character fear pregnancy? Why are every character's morals so flexible? Some people just can't take a book for what it is.
Other readers have tried to spin this book into social satire, but don't go there either. If Cleland had meant it to be a commentary on anything related to reality, why doesn't any character fear pregnancy? Why are every character's morals so flexible? Some people just can't take a book for what it is.
Very bawdy. Very repetitive, but there are some moments of absolute delightful and insightful writing, which is refreshing of a woman in 18th century literature.
Rating: 0/5
It's a mystery to me why this book is on Boxall's list because I'm pretty sure no one needs to read this before they die. No one could really call this literature: it's porn disguised as literature. Not to say that erotic novels can't be literature, of course they can, but this isn't (it's not even erotic, in my opinion). It's just a series of sex scenes strung together by the flimsiest and most convenient of plots. If there are even fifty pages of plot in this book, I'd be surprised.
I do give Cleland some kudos for acknowledging that women have sexual needs, but he doesn't acknowledge that for women's sake: he does so for the sake of his narrative, which seems like some kind of wish-fulfilment for his own desires (and his male readers). If Fanny isn't ashamed of her need for pleasure, it's only because that's what Cleland needs. I also had issues with how she realised her need for pleasure - it just didn't work, especially because it was basically rape.
I don't know how many instances of rape there are in this book: several anyway, and Cleland seems to be saying that rape is ok as long as the woman's unconscious, or the man is sorry, or the woman gets pleasure from it. Ugh!
The hypocrisy here was also mind-blowing. Cleland is clearly homophobic, but only when it's two men together: two women together is perfectly fine. And he has no problem describing male beauty in detail.
So, porn, but not even well written porn. I'd recommend giving this one a pass for anyone else who's reading through Boxall's list.
It's a mystery to me why this book is on Boxall's list because I'm pretty sure no one needs to read this before they die. No one could really call this literature: it's porn disguised as literature. Not to say that erotic novels can't be literature, of course they can, but this isn't (it's not even erotic, in my opinion). It's just a series of sex scenes strung together by the flimsiest and most convenient of plots. If there are even fifty pages of plot in this book, I'd be surprised.
I do give Cleland some kudos for acknowledging that women have sexual needs, but he doesn't acknowledge that for women's sake: he does so for the sake of his narrative, which seems like some kind of wish-fulfilment for his own desires (and his male readers). If Fanny isn't ashamed of her need for pleasure, it's only because that's what Cleland needs. I also had issues with how she realised her need for pleasure - it just didn't work, especially because it was basically rape.
I don't know how many instances of rape there are in this book: several anyway, and Cleland seems to be saying that rape is ok as long as the woman's unconscious, or the man is sorry, or the woman gets pleasure from it. Ugh!
The hypocrisy here was also mind-blowing. Cleland is clearly homophobic, but only when it's two men together: two women together is perfectly fine. And he has no problem describing male beauty in detail.
So, porn, but not even well written porn. I'd recommend giving this one a pass for anyone else who's reading through Boxall's list.
I reviewed this up on my blog: http://paperfruit.wordpress.com/2010/02/03/fanny-hill/
Notwithstanding the fact that this book was published in 1748 nor the fact that one might choose to call it "erotica" this is, in fine, a dirty book. It is neither more nor less than that, really. I don't know if it is possible to write a truly literary work about sex; it is too repetitive an act and the anatomy of it too similar from one person to another (within the same sex, that is) to admit of much in the way of variety or interest beyond the prurient. Not that Mr. Cleland does not give it the old college try. His various descriptions of male and female anatomy range from the ridiculous to the sublime, though they never reach the truly poetic.
Don't get me wrong, I am aware that many authors from Anais Nin to Roth to Nabokov to Henry Miller have included magnificent and quite accomplished descriptions of sexual acts of great variety in their works and that these are truly works of merit. But this book really is purely for the purpose of describing several acts of what is actually rather pedestrian heterosexual sex and, to be honest, that just gets plain boring after awhile if one is not a teenage boy (having been one quite some time ago, I am fairly certain this is true).
It is also rather laughable that Cleland writes as a woman here, since he seems to be rather ignorant of the parts of a woman which truly lead to sexual pleasure. I find it amusing, as well, that he flatters himself and those of his sex by asserting that women, even those who do it for a living, are constantly panting for the touch of a man's hands and organs. And what organs! Except for one unfortunate man (who also quite conveniently has a deplorable personality) all of the penises described in this book are quite gargantuan and ready for work. How modest of John to attribute such acumen to so many of us.
Perhaps even more amusing is the high dudgeon that Fanny, our licentious narrator, finds herself in when she witnesses an act of (gasp!) homosexual sex between two men. She is in a state of such moral outrage that she proposes to denounce the men to the whole inn in which she is staying and is kept from it only by the expedient of an unfortunate accident which knocks her senseless. A little silly, isn't it, John, for a whore to deplore this act so thoroughly? It also strikes me as odd that Fanny has no familiarity with anal or oral sex herself, nor do any of her fellow inmates at the houses she works from seem to, as if they were the most Calvinist prostitutes alive. Mr. Cleland might have been sad had he known what he was missing!
Ah, well, it's all good fun. That this is sometimes esteemed a classic work is a bit of a head-scratcher. I like a dirty story as well as the next guy and few are the novels for adults that don't contain at least some sexual content; I would miss it if it were cut from them. But this is, as I said, your run-of-the-mill dirty book and not much more than that.
Don't get me wrong, I am aware that many authors from Anais Nin to Roth to Nabokov to Henry Miller have included magnificent and quite accomplished descriptions of sexual acts of great variety in their works and that these are truly works of merit. But this book really is purely for the purpose of describing several acts of what is actually rather pedestrian heterosexual sex and, to be honest, that just gets plain boring after awhile if one is not a teenage boy (having been one quite some time ago, I am fairly certain this is true).
It is also rather laughable that Cleland writes as a woman here, since he seems to be rather ignorant of the parts of a woman which truly lead to sexual pleasure. I find it amusing, as well, that he flatters himself and those of his sex by asserting that women, even those who do it for a living, are constantly panting for the touch of a man's hands and organs. And what organs! Except for one unfortunate man (who also quite conveniently has a deplorable personality) all of the penises described in this book are quite gargantuan and ready for work. How modest of John to attribute such acumen to so many of us.
Perhaps even more amusing is the high dudgeon that Fanny, our licentious narrator, finds herself in when she witnesses an act of (gasp!) homosexual sex between two men. She is in a state of such moral outrage that she proposes to denounce the men to the whole inn in which she is staying and is kept from it only by the expedient of an unfortunate accident which knocks her senseless. A little silly, isn't it, John, for a whore to deplore this act so thoroughly? It also strikes me as odd that Fanny has no familiarity with anal or oral sex herself, nor do any of her fellow inmates at the houses she works from seem to, as if they were the most Calvinist prostitutes alive. Mr. Cleland might have been sad had he known what he was missing!
Ah, well, it's all good fun. That this is sometimes esteemed a classic work is a bit of a head-scratcher. I like a dirty story as well as the next guy and few are the novels for adults that don't contain at least some sexual content; I would miss it if it were cut from them. But this is, as I said, your run-of-the-mill dirty book and not much more than that.
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
N/A
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
A Non-Comprehensive list of things this book made me hate:
1. Men
2. The American Education System
3. Sex
4. The English Language
1. Men
2. The American Education System
3. Sex
4. The English Language
Content Warnings
Graphic: Homophobia, Pedophilia, Rape, Sexual assault, Sexual content
This is the first pornographic novel of its kind and ended up with the author being put in prison. Crazy! I am not generally a smut reader and this is old fashioned smut that makes me as a reader feel very awkward. Male genitals are referred to as machine, shaft, monster every word you can imagine. This book is kinky old fashioned porn. Only not rating it 1 star because it's not written badly it's just uncomfortable and not my taste.