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3.44 AVERAGE
3.44 AVERAGE
Erotica seems to be all the rage nowadays. We are treated to a plethora of everything from A Court of Thorns and Roses, shapeshifter romantasy and BDSM edge play like never before. What previous decades discarded as shallow romance novels catering to bored house wives have now taken a step into the mainstream market, and despite some people adamantly maintaining that it’s just silly stories, is now a force to be reckoned with.
However, writing erotica is an art. To hit the right blend of desire and story can be likened to walking on a tight rope. It is so very easy to fall into the trap of focusing too much on what is happening, thus forgetting the sensations of the mind and soul. On the other hand, you can just as easily end up focusing on describing how the characters react to what is happening and end up writing a bunch of ’ooooh’s and ’aaah’s, which take away from the sensibilities of the story. Anaïs Nin is, of course, joyously skipping along this tightrope, masterfully crafting complex characters as well as thrilling stories that explores paraphiliac taboos of both her own age and ours. I do have to stress that even well written and intriguing, it is still and acquired taste. If you come to this book seeking smut you might end up disappointed. Or not, I don’t kink shame.
One of the most crucial aspects of Nin’s erotic world is that it is one where the desperate hunger for desire infuses the characters’ every move and thought. Bodies melt together, burn and yearn for the moment where individuality is dissolved and transcends into something more; into a collective being in perfect harmony. I have no doubt that Nin was well acquainted with the works of her contemporary Georges Bataille, and he with her, and I think that their point of departure in terms of eroticism is a very similar one.
The Delta of Venus offers up a veritable encyclopedia of sexuality and paraphilia. Everyone is represented, flaws and all, without critical scrutiny or abject horror. Although her choice of words are sometimes obsolete in the modern tongue, the unconditional celebration of people is not. As readers, we cannot help but smile at the diverse representation within these pages.
Furthermore, I am delighted to see how Nin’s stories often are driven with a female gaze. The protagonists are often women who have managed to cast off the burden of chastity and modesty in order to explore their sexuality in a myriad of ways. I get giddy when I encounter quotes such as:
”For the first time, the hunger that had been on the surface of her skin like an irritation, retreated into a deeper part of her body. It retreated and accumulated, and became a core of fire that waited to be exploited…”
The individual stories themselves vary in quality for me, but almost all of them offer food for thought. I personally would’ve loved a little more of her more theoretical side, like in the preface, but I did enjoy that she threw her thoughts on desire and erotica into her tales with abandon. Graphic depictions of coupling blends seamlessly with more abstract musings of desire and lust. I did in particular enjoy the adventures of Elena, but the last story is the one that stays with me the most. Maybe it hits a little close to home at the date of writing this, when it feels like the world is about to erupt into a world of chaos and despair. In the story of Marcel, taking place in the early days of WWII, human lust, playfulness and desire prevails in the face of every threat of violence, because they recognize each other’s essence and realize that they are two sides of the same coin.
The characters flow in and out of darkness, creating a tantalizing game out of the mandatory blackouts because what else can you do when the world is crumbling around you with restrictions in tow?
However, I cannot write a review of this book without touching upon the fact that some of these stories explore themes that are questionable at best, and downright provoking at worst. I find her writing on such themes as gender identity and fluidity interesting. A lot of her terms are now obsolete as our understanding and discourse of these matters have progressed forward, but her dealings with subjects such as p*dophilia and necr*philia are still taboos that we as a society deem as forbidden, and justly so. But why has Nin included these stories? I’ve been returning to this question throughout my read, and after finishing. I must confess that I’ve been a bit provoked by it. My reaction at first was to be angry of the fact that they occur alongside stories of homosexuality and gender fluidity where I see parts of myself. How could she? Then again, maybe it’s just my modern mind that gets tangled and want to separate myself so harshly from the more ethically questionable topics in order to cement my sexuality and identity in what can be considered ”normal” and ”okay”. At the time of writing the stories included in the Delta of Venus, there were not only implicit codes of conduct to adhere to, but outright judicial ramifications for those who sought same sex attraction or parafiliac desires. There were not necessarily any distinction between homosexuality, p*dophilia or fetishism. They were all located outside of the realm of normalcy, and the only reason we make a distinction between them today is because we now have fought for our rights to love and be who we are. I’m not saying that there is no difference between n*crophilia and homosexuality, because I do think that there is, but I have to be aware of the fact that my judgement of this is the amalgamation of my own experiences, social nurturing and desires. Another person in another time in the future might look at this review and call me outrageous for my thoughts. Only the future will tell. What I can say is that Nin’s writing is echoed in works of more contemporary writers who still uses taboo themes to shed light on the lives and struggles for those who deliberately or helplessly find themselves outside of the norm. For example, Samuel R Delany’s novels Hogg or The Mad Man come to mind, as well as J.T LeRoy’s Sarah, to name a few. And as push comes to shove, there will always be people who exist in the margins; whose existence will pose a threat to the established order of things, and I for one will never deny them the right to see themselves represented, seen and voiced in the name of obscenity. I think it’s way more dangerous to cut off parts of oneself to get in line than to provide a space where the taboos can be examined and vented without any consequences of literal harm.
In a world where erotic fiction depicting knotting and alpha/omega dynamics can have room to flourish on the shelves of mainstream bookstores, I think we have a lot to thank Nin for. She walked so we could run.
However, writing erotica is an art. To hit the right blend of desire and story can be likened to walking on a tight rope. It is so very easy to fall into the trap of focusing too much on what is happening, thus forgetting the sensations of the mind and soul. On the other hand, you can just as easily end up focusing on describing how the characters react to what is happening and end up writing a bunch of ’ooooh’s and ’aaah’s, which take away from the sensibilities of the story. Anaïs Nin is, of course, joyously skipping along this tightrope, masterfully crafting complex characters as well as thrilling stories that explores paraphiliac taboos of both her own age and ours. I do have to stress that even well written and intriguing, it is still and acquired taste. If you come to this book seeking smut you might end up disappointed. Or not, I don’t kink shame.
One of the most crucial aspects of Nin’s erotic world is that it is one where the desperate hunger for desire infuses the characters’ every move and thought. Bodies melt together, burn and yearn for the moment where individuality is dissolved and transcends into something more; into a collective being in perfect harmony. I have no doubt that Nin was well acquainted with the works of her contemporary Georges Bataille, and he with her, and I think that their point of departure in terms of eroticism is a very similar one.
The Delta of Venus offers up a veritable encyclopedia of sexuality and paraphilia. Everyone is represented, flaws and all, without critical scrutiny or abject horror. Although her choice of words are sometimes obsolete in the modern tongue, the unconditional celebration of people is not. As readers, we cannot help but smile at the diverse representation within these pages.
Furthermore, I am delighted to see how Nin’s stories often are driven with a female gaze. The protagonists are often women who have managed to cast off the burden of chastity and modesty in order to explore their sexuality in a myriad of ways. I get giddy when I encounter quotes such as:
”For the first time, the hunger that had been on the surface of her skin like an irritation, retreated into a deeper part of her body. It retreated and accumulated, and became a core of fire that waited to be exploited…”
The individual stories themselves vary in quality for me, but almost all of them offer food for thought. I personally would’ve loved a little more of her more theoretical side, like in the preface, but I did enjoy that she threw her thoughts on desire and erotica into her tales with abandon. Graphic depictions of coupling blends seamlessly with more abstract musings of desire and lust. I did in particular enjoy the adventures of Elena, but the last story is the one that stays with me the most. Maybe it hits a little close to home at the date of writing this, when it feels like the world is about to erupt into a world of chaos and despair. In the story of Marcel, taking place in the early days of WWII, human lust, playfulness and desire prevails in the face of every threat of violence, because they recognize each other’s essence and realize that they are two sides of the same coin.
The characters flow in and out of darkness, creating a tantalizing game out of the mandatory blackouts because what else can you do when the world is crumbling around you with restrictions in tow?
However, I cannot write a review of this book without touching upon the fact that some of these stories explore themes that are questionable at best, and downright provoking at worst. I find her writing on such themes as gender identity and fluidity interesting. A lot of her terms are now obsolete as our understanding and discourse of these matters have progressed forward, but her dealings with subjects such as p*dophilia and necr*philia are still taboos that we as a society deem as forbidden, and justly so. But why has Nin included these stories? I’ve been returning to this question throughout my read, and after finishing. I must confess that I’ve been a bit provoked by it. My reaction at first was to be angry of the fact that they occur alongside stories of homosexuality and gender fluidity where I see parts of myself. How could she? Then again, maybe it’s just my modern mind that gets tangled and want to separate myself so harshly from the more ethically questionable topics in order to cement my sexuality and identity in what can be considered ”normal” and ”okay”. At the time of writing the stories included in the Delta of Venus, there were not only implicit codes of conduct to adhere to, but outright judicial ramifications for those who sought same sex attraction or parafiliac desires. There were not necessarily any distinction between homosexuality, p*dophilia or fetishism. They were all located outside of the realm of normalcy, and the only reason we make a distinction between them today is because we now have fought for our rights to love and be who we are. I’m not saying that there is no difference between n*crophilia and homosexuality, because I do think that there is, but I have to be aware of the fact that my judgement of this is the amalgamation of my own experiences, social nurturing and desires. Another person in another time in the future might look at this review and call me outrageous for my thoughts. Only the future will tell. What I can say is that Nin’s writing is echoed in works of more contemporary writers who still uses taboo themes to shed light on the lives and struggles for those who deliberately or helplessly find themselves outside of the norm. For example, Samuel R Delany’s novels Hogg or The Mad Man come to mind, as well as J.T LeRoy’s Sarah, to name a few. And as push comes to shove, there will always be people who exist in the margins; whose existence will pose a threat to the established order of things, and I for one will never deny them the right to see themselves represented, seen and voiced in the name of obscenity. I think it’s way more dangerous to cut off parts of oneself to get in line than to provide a space where the taboos can be examined and vented without any consequences of literal harm.
In a world where erotic fiction depicting knotting and alpha/omega dynamics can have room to flourish on the shelves of mainstream bookstores, I think we have a lot to thank Nin for. She walked so we could run.
medium-paced
dark
emotional
mysterious
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Reading 'Delta of Venus' gave me a wonderful perspective of the evolution of women's sexuality in recent decades. The emotions, thoughts and feelings of the women that were recounted in this book were so incredibly relatable and timeless standing in direct contrast of the relationships and circumstances that they suffered. This novel paints a semi-perfect universal love - where all human relationships exist on a level where people embrace and energize each other rather than hate and judge. Nin just so happens to imagine this utopian world as a sexual one and she writes about it movingly and passionately.
adventurous
reflective
sad
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I read the first story and was deeply disturbed (and I’m generally ok with triggering content). It’s the story of a man who enjoysbsex a lot, which I have no issues with, and starts a relationship with a sex worker, which - well, I didn’t like the depiction of the sex worker, but I could handle it. Nin lost me when the male character started taking advantage of children and ended up raping his own kids, and there was no judgement on it. Just no, there’s nothing sensual about paedophilia and sexual violence.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Adult/minor relationship, Incest, Pedophilia, Rape, Sexual violence
challenging
dark
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
with each story offering such richness it's hard to pick which one was my favorite to slip into, and stepping into one and out from another hits you with the same sense as fever dreams. i can't believe i've waited until now to read her and already i feel like i know her, like some part of myself has been opened up and seen with eyes unlike any other. human sexuality is an orchid through these stories- beautiful only because it's been split open, apart, and dirty, only due to what holds it down inside. fantastically and breathtakingly orgiastic
adventurous
challenging
tense
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Loveable characters:
No