Recently, I followed a link to a fascinating-sounding blog post on erotica only to find that I had already read the post almost a year ago, and had in fact commented on it. I still stand by my comment, and decided I should post it in my blog.
I’m about to be all high-falutin’ about what I affectionately refer to as smut.
I think that demonstrating women’s sexuality in erotica, erotic romance, whatever, to a public audience verifies the existence of female sexuality (woman as actor rather than than object–think how many advertisements show a passive woman sexually displayed) and helps bring female sexuality into public discourse. Better dissed as “chick porn” than ignored and suppressed.
I also hope the mere existence of erotica aimed at women encourages women to think or write or talk about their own sexuality, thus validating that they have sexual identities to themselves, to their partners, and to society. And I hope stories about varying sexualities can subtly lead to more acceptance of difference in general.
At the same time, I think erotica should be fun and not preachy, and not grim. My route to that is genre; I’m happiest when reading erotica/erotic romance that’s been flavored with something else, like spaceships or crazy archaeological adventures or car chases. It shouldn’t be ashamed of itself. And we shouldn’t be ashamed of ourselves for reading it and liking it.
Related Posts: Why Writing Romance and Erotica Is Like Being Good in Bed, by Cecilia Tan.
Making It Good and Preliminary Thoughts on Two Types of Erotic Novels.
Erotic Journeys and Bodice Rippers.
Carol Queen quotes. Simon Sheppard quotes.