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Monthly Archives: March 2011

Regency Era Smut

You may recall that last week I mentioned a Regency-era tale called The Lustful Turk. I suppose it’s erotica. I had high hopes for this book going in. After all, it’s Regency-era smexiness. What could be better except maybe pictures, which the print version has?

On the whole I would rather troll Shakepeare for dirty puns. (I’ll be right over, Amanda.)

In Preview This Book on Amazon, the pictures looked nice and clear.  In the book? Not so much. I could tell the subject matter was racy, but in the print book, the pictures were too small and pixelated. What a disappointment, because there was some artistic merit in them.

The Text of The Turk

The text wasn’t a disappointment, but not in a good way. Early attempts to tell extremely racy stories (de Sade excluded since he could at least write his way out of a paper bag) were predictably bad since 1) the desire to write hot doesn’t necessarily coincide with a talent for such and 2) there was a fairly universal lack of elements we today consider necessary to an entertaining story. Things like plot, character development and something– some nugget of something– that readers can care about.

I don’t know for sure if this is something peculiar to men writing about sex but for pre-20th century raciness, the lack of story elements is the norm. More on that in a bit. Although, I’m pleased to say that this book did have a discernible plot. I’m not saying it’s a good one, but stuff happens!

Great Lines in Literature

However, plot points aside, The Lustful Turk is notable for what I consider one of the greatest lines of literature ever written:

“Seize the virgin!” repeated Ozman, ‘she will be only too honored and happy to escape the pollution of this blaspheming wine bibber.’ 

Imagine this Regency buck sitting at his club with pen and paper and writing his magnum opus between drinks and bad jokes. What should Ozman say, he probably wondered at this point. He wants his heroine to get kidnapped at her wedding and then nailed by the Lustful Turk, who is not Ozman, by the way. Yes, it’s quite a turning point and full of conflict. Will someone pop her cherry before the Turk gets his chance? Our erstwhile author is at least attempting to create tension. He has another drink and inspiration swells!

Rest assured, the Turk gets his virgin. Several of them actually.

In Which Carolyn Sighs. Many times.

The women are all horrified at being raped until the Turk convinces them they like it, and then hey! Turk-y baby I love you because you can get that big engine ready on a moment’s notice all night every night.

I was not convinced, I’m afraid.

It was authorial wishful thinking with a big dose of stupid ideas that need to die a horrible death. It’s a distasteful trope that lasted well into the 1980’s when Feminists saved all our asses by pointing out how absurd, destructive, hateful and just plain wrong it is to think a man can rape a woman and she’ll eventually like it. It’s pervasive in too much literature and lingers still.

In fact, you can probably yourself think of several literary books that include such false and damaging notions. And, of course, early Romances aren’t sometimes called Rapetastic for nothing. But, then, these women didn’t have a better example. That they often turned that trope on its head is something to celebrate as we also celebrate having moved past that in Romance.

There are all kinds of slurs, cliches and stereotypes. Everywhere you look. Religion? Yup. (An abbott demands sex in return for saving a womans’ life, otherwise, he leaves her to die) People who aren’t white? You betcha! (the whole damn book) The lower classes? But of course! (The heroine’s beautiful servant is badly beaten but the heroine? She is too white and tender and upper class.)

While the distasteful representation of female sexual agency is front and center there’s plenty more in the background. (Dear Anonymous Author: Worried much about women?) I get that he didn’t know any better, but did it have to take us 200 years before we did?

Meanwhile, Back in the Harem

Anyway, the story is told in epistolary fashion, with all the extreme awkwardness of that device that you could possibly imagine. No, imagine more. More. More….. Yes!

Now you’re close.

So more virgins get kidnapped and deflowered and the Turk is indeed very lustful. But he is also a nice guy. Because his very last conquest cuts off his penis and he is totally cool with that! He sends all his ex-virgin white girls home to their loving families.  To be fair, one of them is Greek or something.

There is also sequel bait in the form of the heroine’s baby. She’s knocked up at one point, and I think we never find out what happened to the baby. Or maybe we do. But I’m NOT reading through that again to find out.

Byron

Any connection with Byron is quite a stretch. He may be inextricably linked now with the revolution in Greece, but he’s not the only Englishman to go there or be aware of the politics of the revolution. Mentioning Greece in no way connects this book with Byron except for the modern reader who only knows, yeah, Byron — he went to Greece. I doubt very much the author was thinking of Bryon. He was thinking about whether the Turk should deflower another virgin.

Thoughts? Reactions? Opinions? Share in the comments.

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So I now have 17 days to get to the end of this WIP! How did that happen?? Last time I looked it was January and I had weeks and weeks until deadline, but it always happens this way. Now I am living on green tea and protein bars as I try to wrap up the story arc, but I’ve enjoyed spending time with these characters in this time period, learning more about Mary Queen of Scots and life in Scotland in the early 1560s.

There are so many things I love about the Elizabethan period–the raw passion of the era that inspired such a golden age of the arts (there was never a time when more genius poets and playwrights and composers were living in one place at one time!), the clothes, the strong women, the dances, the earthiness and bawdiness. It can make such an exciting backdrop for romantic tales! And since I have no creativity left in the well at the moment, I will turn this post over to Shakespeare, the personification of the era.

Warning: Dirty words ahead! But they’re Shakespeare so they’re good for you… One of the books I got with my Christmas giftcards is a delightful look at Shakespeare’s real themes–Filthy Shakespeare: Shakespeare’s Most Outrageous Sexual Puns by Pauline Kiernan. I laughed so hard at some of them I almost fell off my chair. It’s too bad they don’t teach this stuff during the obligatory Shakespeare unit in high school–I’m pretty sure it would catch students’ attention in a big way….

The Introduction features a quick look at life in the Elizabethan era, the major role the theaters played in everyday life, the importance of espionage and codes, and bits like “Dildos and the rediscovery of the clitoris,” “Women win the prize for raunchy punning,” “The Bard makes up a new word or two, or three thousand and counting,” and “Shakespeare’s sexual puns sizzle” where the author states “Shakespeare’s sexual puns are sometimes simple, often complex, and range from the cheeky and playful to the blatantly filthy. A ribald joke…is invariably a means of revealing character, creating mood and tone, exploring the moral world of a play, or even forwarding the action. He can offer straightforward, obvious sexual quibbles like other playwrights of time, but he often does something more…expressing subtle, ambiguous interpretations of a character or a situation where we are not quite sure of the precise meaning. Creative, inventive, clever wit makes many of his sexual puns sizzle.” (There’s also an extensive appendix at the end listing Elizabethan slang terms for sexual acts and genitalia–very useful!)

I knew some of the hidden meanings in Shakespeare’s plays and poems from my college work, but many of these took me by surprise or were deeper than I imagined! Here are a couple of the cleaner examples I came across:

From a chapter titled “Pertaining to Dildos” from The Merchant of Venice (the play text in blue, the hidden meaning in red):

Portia: They shall think we are accomplished
With that we lack. I’ll hold thee any wager,
When we are both accoutered like young men
I’ll prove the prettier fellow of the two,
And I’ll wear my dagger with the braver grace,
And speak between the change of man and boy
With a reed voice, and turn two mincing steps
Into a manly stride, and speak of frays
Like a fine bragging youth, and tell quaint lies
How honorable ladies sought my love,
Which I denying, they fell sick and died…

Nerissa: Why, shall we turn to men?

Portia: Fie, what a question’s that
If thou wert near a lewd interpreter!
But come, I’ll tell thee of my whole device
When I am in my coach…

Portia: They’ll think we’re equipped with pricks which we haven’t got. I bet you anything when we’re both dressed like young men, I’ll prove the sexier of the two, and wear my false penis with its most fine erection. I’ll certainly be well-hung. I’ll turn two mincing steps into a manly stride, and speak of sexual conquests like a youth talking out of his arse, all cock and codpiece, and tell quaint lies about the cunts of chaste ladies who wanted to make love to me. Ladies who, when I turned down their advances, crouched down and begged to be f*****

Nerissa: What, shall we turn into men and f*** women?

Portia: Don’t be stupid! What sort of question is that? You’re talking like a greasy interpreter! But come on, I’ll show you all of my vagina and my dildo when I get into the privacy of my coach…

And from the chapter “Pertaining to Virginity” from The Tempest:

Prospero: Take my daughter. But
If thou dost break her virgin-knot before
All sanctimonious ceremonies may
With full and holy rite be ministered,
No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall
To make this contract grow; but barren hate,
Sour-eyed disdain, and discord, shall bestrew
The union of your bed with weeds so loathly
That you shall hate it both.

Prospero: Take my daughter, but if you break her virginal membrane before all sacred ceremonies are carried out with full and holy ritual, no sweet-tasting showers of semen shall the heavens let fall to make this marriage grow. Barren hate, cruel-eyed disdain and discord shall be strewn on the union of your semen with weeds so abhorent that you shall both ending up hating to have sex.

Scary.

And that doesn’t include anything from the other chapters like “Pertaining to the Clap” or “Pertaining to Brothels”! What are some of your favorite “dirty” works in literature? And what are you planning for St. Patrick’s Day this week???

(Here are a few Shakespearean scenes to enjoy for your Tuesday! The last clip from Get Him to the Greek is not, of course, strictly Shakespeare, but Aldous Snow struck me as a weirdly modern Shakespearean character–plus the song is hilarious)


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I’m still flying high from my trip to the Yale Center for British Art two weeks ago. I’ve blogged about the special Thomas Lawrence exhibit Victoria Hinshaw and I went to see, the place also has a treasure of other British art from the 18th and 19th century.

Here Vicky and I stand before a bust of Prinny (George IV), looking very Roman, however. Prinny, not us!
(Check out Vicky’s blogs from the trip at Number One London)

Here’s the most spectacular painting by George Stubbs (1724-1806). Stubbs is most famous for his paintings of horses and this one is brimming with action.

All the great portrait artists are represented:

Gainsborough

Reynolds

Hoppner
Copley
And another of my favorite artists of the period.

Turner

This museum was just wonderful. Everywhere I turned I found something spectacular to look at and almost all in “our” time period, give or take a few years!!

Have you ever visited a place that stayed with you like this? There is something about this artwork that just won’t let go of me. I felt this way about England when I visited, too.

On Wednesday I’ll be at eHarlequin talking about a certain kind of art, vedute, the souvenir paintings of the Grand Tour.

P.S. My heart goes out to all of Japan in the wake of the earthquake and tsunami. The devastation is massively horrible. May we all figure out some way to help. I lived in Japan as a child when my father was stationed there. I’ll blog about that on Diane’s Blog on Thursday.
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The recent awards season makes me think about famous eccentrics, what makes them eccentric and why we find them entertaining.

I have a theory. I think many of us secretly wish we could do something a little outrageous once in a while. For instance, I love some of the crazy clothing in the Harry Potter movies but would never dare to wear anything like that except to a costume party. Maybe that’s why we love eccentrics, because they appear to be genuinely having fun living an extraordinary life without concern for appearances.

Some eccentrics ring more true to me than others. I might be wrong, but I think people like Helena Bonham Carter and Johnny Depp are the real deal, genuinely a bit mad, and in a good way. Celebrities like Madonna and Lady Gaga (again I could be wrong) come across as more calculated, though they are entertaining in their way.

Many famous figures from the Regency could be considered eccentrics, from Prinny himself to Beau Brummell and other dandies like Poodle Byng. It’s harder for me to tell whether some of these characters donned their idiosyncrasies to get attention or whether they were as eccentric in private.

I think that many of Brummell’s shocking sayings (“Who’s your fat friend?”) were a calculated risk. However, his friend the Princess Frederica Charlotte, Duchess of York, “Freddie” to her friends, seems more of a genuine eccentric. Her marriage was unhappy and she lived in the country, at Oatlands in Surrey, lavishing affection on her pets, which included cats, dogs, birds and monkeys.

“The Duchess’s life is an odd one; she seldom has a female companion, she is read to all night and falls asleep towards morning, and rises about 3; feeds her dozens of dogs and her flocks of birds, &c., comes down two minutes before dinner, and so round again.” – Right Honourable John Wilson Croker, LL.D. F. R. S., Secretary to the Admiralty, 1818

Eccentrics in romance novels are usually secondary characters, the weird great aunt and the like. I’ve tried to think of major characters who are eccentric and came up with a few. Merlin Lambourn, the heroine from Laura Kinsale’s MIDSUMMER MOON is a brilliant inventor but seriously unworldly. I’d call Charles Harcourt, the hero from Judith Ivory’s BEAST, something of an eccentric as well.

Do you enjoy eccentrics? Which are your favorites, real, historical or fictional?

Elena


Last week I finally finished reading the eight books I was sent to judge for the RITA contest.

After that marathon, I said on Twitter, “I finished reading all EIGHT of my RITA books; now reading books by male authors only for awhile. Preferably where people die.” To which a snarky Twitter friend replied, “Oh, so you’re going to try reading like every literary critic in the world for a while.”

Ha! But then I thought about it, and realized that because of my reading tastes, I read primarily female authors. And then, when I strolled back through my reading history, I realized that while I haven’t eschewed male authors–Raymond Chandler, Neal Stephenson, Bernard Cornwell and P.G. Wodehouse are among my favorites–I have always peppered my reading with female authors. Even when I wasn’t reading romance.

Now, is this cool? Maybe. But I wish it were just something that could be, without looking to gender, or race, or any other marker of self to gauge a person’s output. I’ve always espoused the Kantian a priori method of critique, wherein you try to know as little about the item you are ingesting so as not to prejudice yourself.

(Sometimes it’s been a problem when I discover the author’s prejudices after I’ve inhaled the work–C.S. Lewis‘s Narnia series was distorted for me when I realized his deep religious beliefs formed the ideas. Knowing Jim Thompson was a drunk did help explain a lot, though).

I do wish it were less of a ‘thing’ for who is what and what they stand for. My own writing is definitely skewed because of my identity as a white Northeast-raised female living in the late 20th century, but I would hope you wouldn’t have to know that to appreciate my work. In fact, if you did have to know that, I’m doing something wrong.

The books I read, by the way, are HIGHLY recommended: Blood Oath by Christopher Farnsworth and The Black Prism by Brent Weeks (Carolyn first recommended him to me).

Anyway. Which is to say, who’s the last male author you read?

Megan

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