Sex is a funny thing, especially in books.

There are instances where the depiction of the carnal act is cringe-worthy. This is not so much out of prudishness but an aversion to poor description of the act itself which plagues many a novelist. However, I think sex is as at home in literature as anywhere else. This includes the speculative genre.

Americans are squeamish about sex – along with many other remnants of body-shame stemming from their puritanical past (and present). You wouldn’t always think so, looking at the nation’s entertainment and cultural output; but it’s always there, just waiting for a wardrobe malfunction or a too graphic depiction of something on the naughty list to cause the collective disapprobation to rear its pursed-lipped head. For many of course, this is a matter of faith, but then I’d say stick to safer, less speculative ground if your sensibilities are thus.

But if we take away such reactions based on guilt and outdated superstition, what is the role of sex in the novel? Perhaps that is one for the scholars out there (step up Paul C. Smith) or fans of literary erotica. It certainly is a topic ripe for exploration. My own take is that it should serve one of two roles (or both) in a novel: realistic background activity and/or development of the plot/characters.

In the first case, why should sex be excluded in a novel where attention is paid to how people drink, eat, smoke, walk, or buy their groceries? It certainly is happening all the time in the real world, so I feel its exclusion can undermine the veneer of reality that a writer struggles to build. But then most novels have a noteworthy lack of characters pissing and defecating, though less so I’d say than the depiction of sex. Why? Perhaps because of the prudish, body-shame noted above but arguably also because not every second of the characters lives need be described. Not only would the story likely suffer, but details for their own sake are not always beneficial, and this would turn even simple tales into encyclopedias – or Ulysses.

So, if sex isn’t best used to paint a complete world, then what is it good for? Certainly sexuality is one of the most powerful motivating forces behind our species’ lives and not just in its function as a selective evolutionary force and its role in the brute mechanics of reproduction. It affects us in so many ways, for most of our adolescent through adult lives, that to ignore it seems more than mere oversight. The elephant in the room with a hard-on. Sex, its regulation and connection with poorly monogamous relationships and all the problems this causes in our species (as opposed among Bonobos for example) shape our world and our characters. Why shouldn’t it do so in the fictional worlds we create?

So, I think sex and its depiction on the printed page is about far more than simply pandering to people’s latent voyeurism: it can serve as a bridge between the novel of fiction and the real world and at the same time can shape plot, character, and conflict. It is harder I think, to do sex correctly than violence, and as it’s been pointed out, society is much more forgiving of excesses of the latter than the former. But I don’t think we should leave sex out simply because we’re worried it might alienate readers, not that is, if we can use it to craft an even better novel than we might have without it. Good readers, I hope, will regardless of their own preferences, recognize when it is useful to the story and when it is not if the writer is doing their job correctly.

That said, you’d be hard pressed to find much of the lurid act going on or being described in any of Thomas Hardy’s many marvelous books, and I’m not certain that the stories therein are any the less for this omission. Spirit of the age and limitations of the time? Or was he on to something? I’m not sure.

The problem I have is that what I might find appropriate and realistic when it comes to wild sex, others might in turn find excessive or pornographic – or worse, simply ridiculous when written out. I hope I don’t write “bad sex” scenes though bad sex does make up a surprising amount of the act in real life, so why shouldn’t that of the literary form be equally banal, humourous, awkward, and frankly embarrassing at times? That is however, perhaps too much authenticity for most people’s comfort.

As for me, I say bring on the sex however you write it – as long as it matters to you and your characters and helps to progress the story.

Eric

Personally, and I think this may have something to do with Australian culture in general, sex is nothing something I am uncomfortable discussing.

That said, I honestly felt that both Viljamur and Ruin could have done without the sex scenes. Not cos they were bad or offensive or anything like that, but for the same reason I don’t dig sex scenes in movies – if I wanted porn, I’d have bought some porn.

Granted, the scenes were hardly porn. But that’s how I felt. If am not in the mood for a little mood lighting, then it just annoys me when it’s thrust in my face.

Thrust. Get it. Lol.

I don’t actually remember the sex scenes in Nights Of Villjamur so they certainly weren’t graphic enough to register. It does seem strange to latch to this one area of a novel. Does anyone ever complain that, for example, the fight scenes should be less well-described?

Still, does anyone have any recommendations for authors who write sex very well?

My stock answer to this is always James Salter.

…Let me clarify one point. I don’t think there’s no place for sex in novels. Graphically described sex on the other hand always strikes me as purely gratuitous and little to do with the story.

I read Clive Barker as a teenager, no sex scene will weird me out after that, even THAT one in City of Ruin.

Phillip: I don’t think Mark is coming down on anyone with a big cosh of condemnation; certainly “beneath contempt” is overstating it. But, doing my best to avoid any accusatory tone, I’d say that when you talk about discomfort you’re saying the gay sex *does* resonate with you — invoking a negative response. I mean, straight sex *really* doesn’t resonate with me. It’s not erotic, but neither is it discomforting. It’s just… there. And if some other gay person *was* squeamish about it, that would be their problem, far as I’m concerned. To which my response would be, “deal with it.”

I’m not being judgemental here, I hope. For you that negative response might be mild — it’s just the mention of “discomfort” that suggests a bit more than indifference — and a sort of *ick* reaction to man/man coupling doesn’t necessarily translate to homophobia in real inter-personal terms anyways. It’s not something to damn a person for. But the reaction of disgust is so often used to validate mores, I think Mark’s spot-on to take a general attitude of “deal with it.” Because otherwise, respecting that discomfort functionally ends up as buckling to the pressure it creates to erase homosexuality from the narrative, or at least bind it with strictures not applied to heterosexuality.

The comparison between violence and sex in novels, isn’t necessarily a logical fallacy when we’re talking about two subjects which are often used to “rate” products, from movies to in this instance, books.

Violent scenes involving gang rape – but between heterosexual participants (if that’s the right word) seem to produce less general disquiet in many readers than consensual homosexual liaisons to take but one example.

Massive amounts of skull-splitting, graphic violence, torture, sadism (of a non-sexual nature), and genocide, are frequently present in genre fiction – and get very little press for being controversial subjects or needing “mature readers.” Sex however, even of the hetero let alone the homosexual sort, seems to make a lot of people feel very differently.

Most people would agree that these are adult themed subjects. We’re just exploring why there is this great gulf between the two for some readers – but not others.

So yes, they are different but tangentially related topics linked through our expectations of what is appropriate in an adult novel.

I for one find that graphic violence is more unsettling and potentially damaging to people than sex and its depiction in literature just as important to think about in advance. I always try to plot out the violence and brutality of a scene and consciously use it to explore certain themes or ideas in the story. I also think that it is strange, that a few scenes involving hanky-panky can put people off when massive examples of blood-letting often do not.

In the real world, watching someone being decapitated, tortured, or cut to pieces with a sharp length of steel, would likely for most readers be more disturbing than watching a couple joyfully copulating – so again, the head scratching when it comes to the public’s response to the same depictions on the printed page.

And finally, thank you everyone for your suggestions.

Eric

Some excellent points were raised here and I’m certain that I will repeat the general vibe. As a rule the heterosexual world hasn’t warmed up to the homosexual world. [This is me trying to go in a different direction without hopefully offending a lot of people.] Not to say that there is not tolerance, because homosexuals are in a process of integration and acceptance.

BUT the gist of the whole point is that the general public needs adjusting as far as alternative sexuality goes [as long as it is tasteful and serves a function, though that should go for every sex scene].

As far as sex in novels [in general] goes, I do not see what the fuss is all about. Sex is wired in the human body. It’s natural and an every day event. Now, violence on the other hand needs control and moderation, because it’s not encouraged in society and therefore [in YA] should be restricted, because it sets a wrong view as to how the world works.

I would say about anywhere from 15-30 percent of the country is conservative enough that even the mention of gay sex would drive them up the wall, and maybe a definite 30 percent would have issues with descriptive sex. I don’t think most of us actually care unless it is *very* descriptive, and that has more to do with personal taste. For example: I don’t read erotica because I’m not much for reading what is, to me, basically just porn with a plot.

That said, I’m weird. I’ve read gay sex and hetero sex and it doesn’t bother me either way unless it is described too much (and, yes, that is true for *any* kind of sex, gay or straight). I’d chock that up to my own discomfort with sex, though.

But the U.S. isn’t generally that conservative, just pockets of people. We’re crazy varied.

I’m still laughing at the comments!!! Why do so many men have issues with sex scenes in novels? Note that the few female commenters here have little problem in reading sex scenes, but the men come across as extremely prudish
It might be because women tend to read a lot more sex scenes (and enjoy them too!)… look at the sales of paranormal romance, a sub-genre dismissed by many male readers.
Personally I found the sex scenes in City of Ruin enhanced the development of the characters and did not come across as being gratuitous in any way. Go for it Mark… sex is a normal human function and shapes how we interact with the world. It should not be excluded from fiction for fear of upsetting some delicate male sensitivities!