Hello! Information time: Here are three things that make me
uncomfortable. One. Sexual writing. Two. Ye olde-tymey British
fancytalke. Third is gay dudes. (J/K, guys! J/K to the obv!) Third is
actually TUNICS. Well, too bad for me! Because these three
uncomfortables have combined their powers in Transgressions, a
new novel belonging to a slightly mystifying genre known as M/M
fiction: gay romance written by straight women, for straight women. Hhhyah! Maybe you didn’t know! I also didn’t! But now
that we know, we are permanently impregnated with little brainbabies of
knowledge, and there’s no such thing as a brainbortion last time I
checked, am I right!? WELL, AM I?
I do know that there are straight women out there who enjoy
watching gay-male pornographies. I am also aware of slash fiction
(dirty gay fanfic about, like, Harry Potter touching Voldemort’s magic
johnson), which is also mostly by/for straight women. So I don’t
really know why M/M seems so weird to me, while slash just seems
kooky—I guess, first of all, I wouldn’t put anything past
nerd-women who go to conventions and rub magical wizard staffs on each
others’ lady areas. And second, there’s something socially conservative
about a traditional romance novel, how the men are always strapping and
the ladies always swooning. I associate that with matronly aunts, not
straight women liberated enough to admit a preference for gay erotica.
The disconnect is jarring: Transgressions absolutely belongs to
the traditional romance genre (on her blog, author Erastes calls it a
“breeches-ripper,” as opposed to a “bodice-ripper”); it just happens to
be about gays and bucolic BDSM.
Transgressions takes place during the English Civil War of
1642, when Oliver Cromwell was all, “Parliament! Blah blah blah!” And
King Charles was all, “Oh no, thoust di’int, Cromwell!” And then war
happened. Out on a country-bumpkin bumpfarm, David is a beautiful,
slender man-boy who dreams big dreams. Jonathan is a dark, burly
blacksmith with puritanical ways. The two share a bed and get secret ye
olde boners for a hundred pages or so, and they fall in sweet country
love, which goes like this:
To have Jonathan wake him once more in the dead of the night for
pure lust, to feel him wrap those vise-like arms around him and pull
him physically off the mattress and into his lap, sliding into his
fundament so sweetly, that just the look on Jonathan’s face as he took
possession of David, was sometimes enough to trigger his own seed to
spatter between them.
Cute. Unfortunately for the spattering lovebirds, David is accused
of rape and runs off to the army. They are then separated for many
scores of fortnights (eh? How am I doing with the lingo?): David shacks
up with a couple of fellow homo-soldiers (“Just let me do this for
thee, and if you like it not, I shall stop”), while Jonathan stumbles
into the sadistic employ of the “Witchfinder General” and gets busy
finding witches (with a little sexual crucifixion on the side). Will
they get back together in the end? I found myself kind of mildly
wanting to know. And that’s something, I guess.
Romance writing could almost be defined by its determination to
forcibly unite the explicit and the elegant. Which, let me add, is
awkward. If you’re going to be smut, be smut. Go all the way. And
if you’re going to be historical fiction, PLEASE DON’T SAY “WEEPING
COCK” ON EVERY OTHER PAGE. The big problems with dirty books are that
there are only so many ways to write about sex and there are
very few ways to write about sex in a sexy way. Here are some
examples of how to write about sex in an unsexy way: “Michael’s
hand slipped to his weeping cock [SEE!?!?] and closed around it,
fisting it slowly [Erastes, I think you are unclear on the definition
of ‘fisting’].” “Tobias’ hot and so familiar breath was on his cock and
with a desperate groan David slipped into his lover’s mouth, just as
Tobias slid a slender finger into his entrance [note: This entrance is
also an exit!].” “He was plunged forward into the same vision he had
had when first he had fucked the Devil [gwuh?]; he again saw the Angel
at the end of the path, a flaming sword in his hands and the sword was
his own cock [WHAAAT THAAA FAAACK?], splendid and on fire with a
righteous light.”
I was talking about Transgressions to a gay friend of mine,
and he commented, “Oh, it’s like porn for fag hags!” But I BEG TO
DIFFER, GAY FRIEND. Being more than a bit haggy myself, I am definitely
not interested in the intimate details of any of my gay friends’
firecocks, or “sudden hardnesses,” or that time you wrapped
“rein-callused fingers around the youth’s pink and gold member,” or
what anyone does with anyone’s “honeyed cleft.” (On that note,
if there exists any circumstance in which “honeyed cleft” can be a
convincing substitute for “butthole,” we will most certainly not find it ‘neath the pantaloons of a 17th-century blacksmith. Just
sayeth.)
But everyone has her thing, I guess! Everyone has her thing. And to
be honest, I don’t see anything wrong with a lady pursuing her thing,
even if her thing is completely incomprehensible to a lady like me. Who
am I? Who am I to judge another lady’s thing? 
I’m sorry, but generally when I hear the phrase “weeping cock,” it makes me think “weeping sores,” and that individual needs to get checked out by a doctor, ASAP, because it doesn’t sound healthy.
Lindy, you’re weeping cock hilarious!
I love it!
As a long, long time fan of slash (straight porn is really boring!) I have to say;
This book looks awful.
Most of us slash-ers are more of….well.
We’re kinky assed sonsofbitches. We like the sex to be rough, we like bondage (and not silk scarves and a bit of slap & tickle). The main reason most of my fellow slashers read gay porn is because it’s hot, it’s dirty, and it’s a little bit wrong (not really, but according to society, blah blah blah – not the point here).
Also. “Honeyed cleft”.
…
…..No it’s an asshole.
@21
“Fisting as in using you fist to jack off is a right on phrase. That crowd of fisters is far bigger than the handball players, ie. fisters.”
Do I correctly understand that the M/M romance reader/writer crowd has made up a new definition for fisting? You’d better realize that attempting to reuse a word that already means one sexual activity (and has for at least three or four decades, maybe longer) for a different one is going to lead to what simply looks like ignorance of the (not exclusively) gay sexual practices you purport to write about.
And dialogue like “Just let me do this for thee, and if you like it not, I shall stop” suggests that the author is just as ignorant about historical usage as she is about sex. She uses the singular/intimate and the plural/formal to refer to the same person in the same sentence!
The weeping cock grosses me out, too. Sounds like either syphilis or herpes.
@21
“Fisting as in using you fist to jack off is a right on phrase. That crowd of fisters is far bigger than the handball players, ie. fisters.”
Do I correctly understand that the M/M romance reader/writer crowd has made up a new definition for fisting? You’d better realize that attempting to reuse a word that already means one sexual activity (and has for at least three or four decades, maybe longer) for a different one is going to lead to what simply looks like ignorance of the (not exclusively) gay sexual practices you purport to write about.
And dialogue like “Just let me do this for thee, and if you like it not, I shall stop” suggests that the author is just as ignorant about historical usage as she is about sex. She uses the singular/intimate and the plural/formal to refer to the same person in the same sentence!
The weeping cock grosses me out, too. Sounds like either syphilis or herpes.
Check out Mary Renault’s “The Persian Boy” for historical quasi-fiction that’s not only an amazingly good novel, it’s also jill-off sexy. It also keeps things classy, with not a weird euphemism for a body part in sight.
i can’t wait for harry potter and the weeping cock of destiny to hit the shelves.
also, harry potter and the honeyed cleft. also.
GO LINDY! I love a good slash flame war.
Miss M, are you by any chance related to Joe Dumbass?
Thank you for writing this highly entertaining review. As I have not, would not and will not buy/steal/read this book, but have read your review three times, I feel pretty okay writing this.
I was vaguely offended by several of your comments, but that simply increased my amusement. I would like to submit to anyone else who actually reads this far down the comments that that was rather the point.
I’m slightly annoyed by your dismissal of slash culture– it’s way more ridiculous and weird than you made it out to be, although you’re entirely correct about the girls at Con (they will do anything. Anything). I’m also a little bit miffed at the whole dismissal of British history.
However, I was amused. And that counts for a lot.
7/8: Then read not The Stranger, if it so chronically offendeth thou! Harumph!
“I wouldn’t put anything past nerd-women who go to conventions and rub magical wizard staffs on each others’ lady areas.”
Damn! I’ve must have missed all these fun conventions. Woe me!
As a snarker who mods a large community dedicated to mocking shitty (fanfic) writing, I would have enjoyed your review, which was hilarious in parts. As a slash fan, your introduction just pissed me off by the amount of ignorance displayed about the topic. Seriously, not all (slash) fan fic is Harry Potter/Star Trek. Do some research next time. It won’t kill you.
(Also, I am fascinated to find out that I am either straight, or not a slasher, being bisexual…)
“I wouldn’t put anything past nerd-women who go to conventions and rub magical wizard staffs on each others’ lady areas.”
Damn! I’ve must have missed all these fun conventions. Woe me!
As a snarker who mods a large community dedicated to mocking shitty (fanfic) writing, I would have enjoyed your review, which was hilarious in parts. As a slash fan, your introduction just pissed me off by the amount of ignorance displayed about the topic. Seriously, not all (slash) fan fic is Harry Potter/Star Trek. Do some research next time. It won’t kill you.
(Also, I am fascinated to find out that I am either straight, or not a slasher, being bisexual…)
@david;
While I’d agree that I found slash that was good while I was researching my piece, I would have to say that I found a lot that was bad, too. However, I don’t think it’d be my place to write a negative review of it because it’s amateur fiction, and I’m a professional critic and that’s a cruel and unnecessary line to cross.
which is mighty white of you, not to mention the demonstrative of journalistic ethics 101.
However, this book was (presumably) edited and published professionally, and they sent copies to a professional reviewer for review, and so I think a negative review is a perfectly fine thing to write if the book warrants it. Lindy’s piece brings attention to a whole genre, but unfortunately the book that she’s highlighting is not so good. (I looked at the book myself, and I assure you it isn’t good.)
except that Lindy has taken it upon herself to review an entire genre based on the specifics that she attributes to this book– a genre that she doesn’t know jack whatsit about.
Personally, what I hope will come of this is that someone will find the subject matter interesting, read Lindy’s review, laugh, and then, if he or she is interested in the idea of the book being reviewed, seek out something better.
Personally what I hope is that lindy won’t write arrogant ignorance again.
But.. hope in one hand, sh*t in the other, and see which fills up fastest, right?