In this piece on Edgy Fiction, J. Mark Bertrand gives the rules, in progression, for writing about sex in fiction.
As a reader, I used to say that I didn’t mind reading about sex, but I preferred not to see it depicted on the screen in vivid color in movies since I considered the actions of the actors in acting out illicit sex to be immoral in and of themselves. So, I don’t watch many R-rated movies. However, I have come to find out that I am also uncomfortable with graphic descriptions of sex, and sexual perversion, in books. I don’t believe that this discomfort with, indeed aversion to, graphic sex (and violence) in books is prudery or a lack of literary apppreciation. I believe it’s wisdom and discernment.
I started reading Doctorow’s Ragtime over the weekend. I first thought it was a bit odd. The writing style is clipped and jerky and takes some getting used to. Then, I decided that it was interesting. Doctorow places real historical characters, such as Houdini and Emma Goldman, into his fictional story of turn-of-the-century America. I was curious to see where he would go with these characters, how much fact would be mixed into the fiction, how evocative of the early 1900’s the novel would be. Then, I came to the conclusion that not only does Doctorow mix fact with fiction; he also stirs in borderline pornography. I read a couple of scenes that were intentionally titilating and rather nasty. So, whatever I’m missing, I’ll just have to miss it.
My question is: I have another book by Doctorow, The March, on THE LIST. Should I skip it, too? Profanity, as in profaning what is sacred, offends me. Graphic descriptions of sex and sexual perversion profane that which God ordained (beautiful sex within marriage) and make it seem twisted and satanic. It’s an immoral use of one of God’s greatest gifts, the gift of words.
I decided a long time ago that no matter how “wonderful” a movie or book might be said to be, if I am convicted that it would be displeasing to God to read it, I pass it by. I may have missed some great books that were, in fact, acceptable, but when you get right down to it, while our lives are enriched by the good books we HAVE read, they are not denigrated in any way by NOT reading the good books we MAY HAVE read, however, they certainly ARE denigrated by the corrupting books we HAVE read.
(I know, that’s an awkward sentence, but I hope you can figure out what I’m getting at. . .all caps for emphasis and clarity, not shouting)
I know exactly what you’re talking about re: Ragtime — and yes, it was bizarre and shocking. I don’t remember anything comparable in The March. And it’s not the sort of thing you’d forget (for better or worse).
I haven’t read either book so I can’t comment specifically. It sounds, though, as if you have already answered your own question. Once an author goes too far for my comfort, I am reluctant to read anything else by them. It feels like I am approaching the book with one eye sqeezed shut, afraid of what I may see.
Thank you for leading me to Bertrand’s site. I found it interesting and my writer husband will as well.
The musical, based on the book (I saw it live in the late 90’s, don’t know if the ’81 DVD is the same show), left out the sex–and it was wondeful–really evoked all the elements of the era like nothing else I’ve ever seen. The overlay of characters, fictional and historical, really worked together for a great storyline (and the music was wonderful). Maybe one of the few cases where a movie could be better than a book? I’ll have to borrow that ’81 show from the library and see.
I’d skip the second book, personally. Last year I read “Sarah” (historal fiction surrounding the Biblical Sarai/Sarah) by Marek Halter. It was interesting, but he (Halter) took the Bible’s mention of Sarah being a beautiful woman to the extreme, turning it into the focus of her life. In the book, men everywhere she turned were unable to keep from lusting after her. It seemed the author himself was lusting after her the way he decscribed her as well as the reasons she attracted so much attention, and the direction he gave her fictionalized life in the book. Even her (sexual) relationship with Abraham was described in so much detail that it was disgusting; I had to skip over many-a-paragraph.
At any rate, hoping that not all of his books would be so fixated on sex, I read another book by Marek Halter a month or so later: “Zipporah, Wife of Moses.” I really wish I hadn’t. It was more of the same.
Lesson learned: no giving second chances to authors of books like this, however good the book might have been minus the offending material. It spoils a book, so it’s just not worth the effort anyway.