tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30203557.post115470130114916511..comments2024-03-26T01:10:13.720+00:00Comments on Teach Me Tonight: Voyeurism?E. M. Selingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426524354823232002noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30203557.post-1155223258381997062006-08-10T16:20:00.000+01:002006-08-10T16:20:00.000+01:00I'm glad you're enjoying the blog, Kimber.Even unc...I'm glad you're enjoying the blog, Kimber.<BR/><BR/><I>Even uncomfortable sex</I><BR/><BR/>I agree, and in fact I think that 'uncomfortable sex' (in the sense of disturbing or disappointing for the characters, but not in the sense of 'uncomfortable' because the author was trying to titillate the reader) can be particularly revealing. If an author goes down that route she/he can't rely on the great sex = proof of great love equation that some romances portray. The 'uncomfortable sex' perhaps springs from more unusual characters and more detailed characterisation. Of course, that's a generalisation, and someone could write a scene like that as a gimmick, to find something that might shock the reader, but then it probably wouldn't be the sort of 'uncomfortable sex' I'm meaning. I suspect it would be tend to be a provocative, designed-to-cause-discomfort-in-the-reader sort of sex scene, rather than a sex scene which derives from the characterisation and happens to cause discomfort to the reader.Laura Vivancohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00906661869372622821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30203557.post-1154947190666857462006-08-07T11:39:00.000+01:002006-08-07T11:39:00.000+01:00Sylvia Day's the President of Passionate Ink, the ...Sylvia Day's the President of <A HREF="http://www.passionateink.org/faq" REL="nofollow">Passionate Ink</A>, the 'Special Interest Chapter of Romance Writers of America for erotic romance writers'. So that probably means her definitions carry a certain weight, and her definitions are very similar to other definitions I've read. For example, <A HREF="http://sensualromance.writerspace.com/jletointerview.html" REL="nofollow">Julie Elizabeth Leto</A> says that<BR/><BR/><I>Erotic romance employs some of the trademarks of erotica--the rawer, more explicit description of sexuality--and melds it with the conventions of romance. The intimacy. The emotions. The happily ever after. Again, it is usally written with more sensual language than some erotica and all porn.</I><BR/><BR/><A HREF="http://www.monicaburns.com/ArticlesEroticRomance.htm" REL="nofollow">and Monica Burns' definition is that </A><BR/><BR/><I>Erotic romance contains intense sexual scenes between two individuals who are falling in love or are in love. It MUST have a happy ending and love is the ultimate focus of the relationship and the work.</I> <BR/><BR/>So I think the writers are agreed in theory, but then, as mentioned by <A HREF="http://www.sylviaday.com/extras/article-1" REL="nofollow">Sylvia Day</A>, some publishers may market the books in ways which blur the boundaries, and that might well confuse the readers. Also, just because an author of erotic romances says that she's focussing on the love doesn't mean that all readers will interpret the story that way.<BR/><BR/>I can see why you might follow an author, based on trust. If you know an author delivers stories which appeal to you, you're maybe more likely to let them take you into a new sub-genre (e.g. move from historical to contemporary, or to erotic romance) because you hope that at the core their voice/outlook will remain one that you like. Not all readers will feel that way, though, and I've read about some readers getting very upset about an author changing sub-genre. I can understand that too, because some readers are very attached to particular sub-genres.Laura Vivancohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00906661869372622821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30203557.post-1154921518504491282006-08-07T04:31:00.000+01:002006-08-07T04:31:00.000+01:00I think that what might be a very clear distinctio...I think that what might be a very clear distinction to one reader or writer (e.g., Sylvia Day) may not necessarily be the same to others. I'm glade that I do know what to expect from Harl/Silh lines. That does not mean that I will only read from end of the spectrum. I may follow a writer to try a Blaze if I know her stories are good. But it might stop me from trying other writers. I'm very much writer-oriented anyway. There are very few that I've stopped reading because of the type of story they write but, yes, there are a few.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30203557.post-1154892658584715872006-08-06T20:30:00.000+01:002006-08-06T20:30:00.000+01:00I agree with your description of the process, Robi...I agree with your description of the process, Robin, but I think that the problem with describing romance as 'voyeuristic' is that a lot of people would then misunderstand and not realise that it is, as you say, a 'symbolic voyeurism'. Of course there are parallels with voyeurism as legally defined, since the reader is 'watching' someone else, and thus learns very intimate details about the characters, but there's such a prevalent, dismissive attitude towards romance, which categorises it as 'smut' and 'porn for women', that I feel rather averse to using the term 'voyeurism' to describe the process. And then, as you say, there are the erotic romances, which (and I'll take your word for it, since I'm sure you've read some of them, unlike me) deliberately create 'a sense of illicit titillation'. They're even more likely to be described as 'smut' and 'porn', I'd imagine, despite the fact that authors of erotic romance, such as Sylvia Day, draw <A HREF="http://www.sylviaday.com/extras/article-1" REL="nofollow">very clear distinctions between porn, erotica and erotic romance</A>.<BR/><BR/>This does feel like a bit of a minefield, so I think I should clarify that the reason I haven't read erotic romances is not because I disapprove of them (I'm not sure how I could disapprove of a book/sub-genre I hadn't read, because then I'd have little or no evidence on which to base a judgement), but rather because I think they'd take me outside my personal comfort zone. I'm not even wanting to engage with the question of whether porn is wrong or not, because that's a different issue and one about which I know very little. I'm simply looking at the romance genre, and trying to untangle some of the issues which surround it.Laura Vivancohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00906661869372622821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30203557.post-1154882309673846552006-08-06T17:38:00.000+01:002006-08-06T17:38:00.000+01:00I believe that there *is* an element of voyeurism ...I believe that there *is* an element of voyeurism in reading Romance, and that such an element heightens the intimacy necessary to create an emotional response in the reader. IMO, so much of what makes Romance emotionally powerful is the moments of *private* interaction between hero and heroine, whether those moments be sexual in nature or conversational or whatever. That our connection to these characters grows based, in part, on the close proximity we enjoy to the process of their falling in love does, IMO, necessitate that we are, in part, voyeurs of their relationship. Of course it's more a symbolic voyeurism, since there is basically a contract between the characters (via the author) and the reader to open up this fictional relationship for observation and vicarious pariticipation, but I do think it's partly voyeuristic, nonetheless. And in some cases, I think authors actually amp up the tension in a Romance by creating a sense of illicit titillation in the sex betweeen hero and heroine, especially in more erotic Romance.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30203557.post-1154752474095111222006-08-05T05:34:00.000+01:002006-08-05T05:34:00.000+01:00Re: Harlequin Blaze...Why don't they just call it ...Re: Harlequin Blaze...<BR/><BR/>Why don't they just call it Harlequin Qinky? I especially liked the long description so that we the readers will know EXACTLY how erotic the books will be. "Warning! This book may contain bondage!" <BR/><BR/>I'm a bit perturbed by the series categories of romance by Harlequin and Silhouette. Every category is neatly defined so that the reader will know exactly what to expect from the book they read. It's like they're not about the story or characters anymore, but about the expectation. A lot of women seem to read about adventure and taking emotional risks, when what they really want is safety, comfort and security.<BR/><BR/>That being said (I like surprises, some people don't), perhaps in the future romances should carry some code that tells the reader how much sexuality to expect from the novel. 4 chili peppers: muy calienté!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30203557.post-1154737061051234592006-08-05T01:17:00.000+01:002006-08-05T01:17:00.000+01:00Oh yes, personal taste is definitely going to be a...Oh yes, personal taste is definitely going to be a factor. And when one's personal comfort zone is surpassed, then one pulls away from the story. It's at that point that one remembers one's reading, I think: I'd imagine that most of us who read a lot aren't particularly aware of the process of reading, until something like this happens to pull us out of the novel.<BR/><BR/>Some novels may verge towards being <A HREF="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metafiction" REL="nofollow">metafiction</A> in that they're 'A story that anticipates the reader's reaction to the story'. The novels I quoted from don't do this, but I think some romances may do so, particularly towards the more erotic end of romance, where the books seem to be exploring sexuality, and so there's likely to be an element of the reader being pushed to explore their own sexuality as they read about characters who're exploring theirs. Like I said, I haven't read any erotic romances, but I'm making a guess from what I've read about them, for example, <A HREF="http://sensualromance.writerspace.com/HarlequinBlazes.html" REL="nofollow">this description of the contents of the Harlequin Blaze line</A>:<BR/><BR/><I>Launch author Julie Elizabeth Leto says that in future books we can expect stories about [...] exhibitionism, voyeurism, sex therapy, and crimes based on erotic literature.</I><BR/><BR/>I see your point, Jennifer, about secrets. I suppose some people may have an urge to tell a secret that's very strong, and the only way they can gratify it and yet not face negative consequences, is to tell it to strangers. It sounds a bit like King Midas' <A HREF="http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/type0782.html#midas" REL="nofollow">hairdresser</A>.<BR/><BR/>I'm in the UK, and I don't even think about the CCTV cameras. There are supposed to be signs up, warning people when they're in a zone covered by the cameras, and their use is covered by the Data Protection Act. I suppose one gets used to it, just as one can get used to reading certain types of material, but in both cases, I appreciate being reminded from time to time, and thinking about the processes involved.Laura Vivancohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00906661869372622821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30203557.post-1154727292804604422006-08-04T22:34:00.000+01:002006-08-04T22:34:00.000+01:00Given that Jill is addressing the reader directly,...<I>Given that Jill is addressing the reader directly, it’s disconcerting that she can tell the reader things that she won’t tell her best friend.</I><BR/><BR/>I think there are many things we might not tell our best friends but might confess elsewhere such as http://postsecret.blogspot.com/<BR/><BR/>Certainly in Britain, folks must have become used to a lack of privacy now that they're followed everywhere by little cameras. It's like believing in God but forgetting that S/He's watching all the time. <BR/><BR/>In this age when celebrities, and non-celebrities alike, post photos and video of them having sex on the Internet, I cannot feel like a voyeur reading a novel. It's there for me to see, after all. If I feel uncomfortable by the scene, then it just comes down to a matter of my own personal taste, I think.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30203557.post-1154721089829957302006-08-04T20:51:00.000+01:002006-08-04T20:51:00.000+01:00I guess I've never really analyzed the sex scenes ...I guess I've never really analyzed the sex scenes in this way--as voyeurism. But in some books, which I call "sex manuals" I feel very uncomfortable with the scenes. It's almost like some movies which make me feel embarrassed for the characters because the scenes ring somehow false--and I don't necessarily mean sex scenes here.<BR/><BR/>For me, the graphic scenes also have to fulfill a real purpose and not just portray sex for the sake of sex. I've now read of several writers who are being forced to increase the content of sex because that's what's selling. I think this is wrong because sometimes just a word, a hug, a soft stroke of the cheek can mean so much more than a detailed sex scene. <BR/><BR/>Some writers boldly state that sex is romance. I beg do differ very strongly. It can be truly romantic, as I understand the word, but not necessarily. Sometimes less is really more.<BR/><BR/>I have read erotic literature, especially French writers and one thing that most of the writers did not do was write a touch by touch by bite or whatever scene of the sex act. It came out in much more subtle and titillating ways. There was a sense of voyerism especially in domination scenes in which the woman was not really allowed to participate and therefore had to hide her emotions. I must say that that was one of the things that turned me off these books very fast. The woman really was only a sex slave.<BR/><BR/>My thoughts are not completely formed here but maybe you can get some of what I mean.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com