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juushikaI am waiting impatiently on a review to go up on Amazon—reviews for more obscure books always seem to take longer. It happened with The Dreamers and The Story of O, and it's happening now with Playing—which only has four Amazon reviews to date. I suppose this is actually a good sign, indicating that Amazon does do some sort of moderation, or at least checks to see that the submission is a review for the correct book. However, I publish reviews there first, grab the permanent link for crossposting purposes, and then publish my reviews here—so I'd love for them to go up just a bit faster.
On the topic...
I've finished reading The Story of O [review], and so wanted to add to my comments on the first half of the book. The basis of what I discussed there—that by pushing and breaking the boundaries of average or normative human (sexual) behavior, the book reveals and explores aspects of human (sexual) psychology—remains true throughout the book, and was also the heart of my book review. However, what this exploration reveals about the character and the character's psychology changes so dramatically over the course of the book. When I first talked about it, I didn't know that. As I wrote there:
However, not long after O leaves the Roissy, René gives her over to Sir Stephen. René owes him fealty not unlike the way that O is promised to René. Initially, O serves this new master because her servitude pleases René, which in turn makes O happy. However, René slowly falls in love with a different character at the same time that O's slavery becomes more public and, for the first time, she faces pity and disgust. In the face of both, O realizes that she is not devastated at losing O's love, and she is does not feel ashamed because are disgusted by her slavery. Instead, she discovers, she is proud—proud of her identity as a willing slave. O gives up the right to her body and has discarded her own free will, but by doing so she is actually able to build identity and self-pride, neither of which she had when she was free.
What a change! And how it overthrows my previous critique. O's path certainly isn't for everyone, and even for me—sympathetic to BDSM as I am—it is too extreme. But that's precisely the function of this sort of content: to exceed, to exaggerate, in order to reveal. Réage is able to combine two apparently disparate acts—abandoning self and reclaiming self—in a way which is, through views into O's mind, entirely real and reasonably true. There's some critique, of course, that the book objectifies women, and critique also of the violent sexual content. But in a way, the book is a submissive's manifesto, or one submissive's manifesto at least (because no single viewpoint can accurately represent such a diverse group): Submitting oneself, consenting to violence and humiliation, forfeiting the right to own one's body, does not necessarily indicate weakness or a lack of self identity. Instead, it can go hand in hand with, or even be the basis for, self-actualization.
If it isn't clear by now, I really loved and highly recommend The Story of O. It's rare to see a book that manages to be intelligently erotic. There are many others—and I'm itching to post the review of one—which start with that same intriguing concept of the boundary-breaking intelligent erotic, but manage not quite enough of either: not extreme enough not realistically psychological. This novel has both, and is so satisfying as a result. It doesn't end with the last page, or at least it hasn't for me. I'm still thinking about it. I'm glad I bought a copy, as this is a novel which I will certainly reread.
On the topic...
I've finished reading The Story of O [review], and so wanted to add to my comments on the first half of the book. The basis of what I discussed there—that by pushing and breaking the boundaries of average or normative human (sexual) behavior, the book reveals and explores aspects of human (sexual) psychology—remains true throughout the book, and was also the heart of my book review. However, what this exploration reveals about the character and the character's psychology changes so dramatically over the course of the book. When I first talked about it, I didn't know that. As I wrote there:
I take issue with the character: above all things, she is driven by her love for her lover. This is a common sin, to allow yourself to be consumed and defined and so weakened by another person, but the book takes it to its extreme. O's journey towards debasement occurs of a literal, violent, exaggerated level.Indeed, in the first approximate half of the book, when O begins her training at the Roissy and then returns to her daily life with René, this is the case. The reader never sees how René introduces the concept or sadism, or how eagerly O agrees to take part, but the text is always quite clear that O is not masochistic and does not, herself, delight in the punishment she receives. Instead, all of her joy comes from René's approval and enjoyment, and so she consents to everything that the Roissy has to offer in order to earn his pleasure—and his love. All of her joy comes from without. She owns none of it. And so that weakness of character, than dependence on another, is taken to an extreme by what O does.
However, not long after O leaves the Roissy, René gives her over to Sir Stephen. René owes him fealty not unlike the way that O is promised to René. Initially, O serves this new master because her servitude pleases René, which in turn makes O happy. However, René slowly falls in love with a different character at the same time that O's slavery becomes more public and, for the first time, she faces pity and disgust. In the face of both, O realizes that she is not devastated at losing O's love, and she is does not feel ashamed because are disgusted by her slavery. Instead, she discovers, she is proud—proud of her identity as a willing slave. O gives up the right to her body and has discarded her own free will, but by doing so she is actually able to build identity and self-pride, neither of which she had when she was free.
What a change! And how it overthrows my previous critique. O's path certainly isn't for everyone, and even for me—sympathetic to BDSM as I am—it is too extreme. But that's precisely the function of this sort of content: to exceed, to exaggerate, in order to reveal. Réage is able to combine two apparently disparate acts—abandoning self and reclaiming self—in a way which is, through views into O's mind, entirely real and reasonably true. There's some critique, of course, that the book objectifies women, and critique also of the violent sexual content. But in a way, the book is a submissive's manifesto, or one submissive's manifesto at least (because no single viewpoint can accurately represent such a diverse group): Submitting oneself, consenting to violence and humiliation, forfeiting the right to own one's body, does not necessarily indicate weakness or a lack of self identity. Instead, it can go hand in hand with, or even be the basis for, self-actualization.
If it isn't clear by now, I really loved and highly recommend The Story of O. It's rare to see a book that manages to be intelligently erotic. There are many others—and I'm itching to post the review of one—which start with that same intriguing concept of the boundary-breaking intelligent erotic, but manage not quite enough of either: not extreme enough not realistically psychological. This novel has both, and is so satisfying as a result. It doesn't end with the last page, or at least it hasn't for me. I'm still thinking about it. I'm glad I bought a copy, as this is a novel which I will certainly reread.
