Esquire’s Benjamin Alsup Mourns the Dearth of Good Novels with Sex

“But they did it more often, more graphically, more honestly, and altogether differently from most contemporary writers. It shocks in its candor, in its generalized, post-Pill, irresponsible wackness. Them freaks weren’t afraid to get their hands dirty”

Alsup’s article bemoaning the lack of well written, honest and unguarded sex in contemporary novels is interesting.  He describe current American novels:
The contemporary American lustscape is populated by the sexually unlucky, unhappy, and/or uninterested.”
This forms the core of my sphere of interest in studies. Women’s genre fiction  – erotica and erotic romance – does include a great deal of sex, but almost to the exclusion of other issues. And sadly, the quality of writing is not what it should be.
He concludes brilliantly:
Writing about sex is hard. Some writers claim the best way to do it is by not doing it at all. Focus on the furniture and leave the bodies out of it. But I think that desire is easy and bodies are what’s difficult. We need more bodies in our fiction. We need bodies on bodies in all the wack configurations that consenting adults will allow. Fucking matters. And when we ignore it or pretend it was something that can only be elided, or joked about, the joke is on us.

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