Jane’s Thing

Life after chick-lit: posh porn. I have a minor quibble with this thesis about the proliferation of books by women who bonk like rabbits and aren’t afraid to write about it in a sort of endless post-coital effusion: “In other words, they are not only personal memoirs but documents of a wider sexual evolution.”

Now that would be nice, except that I just finished reading The Bride Stripped Bare, The Sexual Life of Catherine M, and One Hundred Strokes of the Brush Before Bed (yeah, yeah, standard disclaimer time: it was all in the cause of research, really truly it was)…and what came to mind every time I lifted my head from a page of courageously frank prose was, “Oh shit, I nodded off again”. It’s like reading really bad Mills & Boon sex turned into academic theses.

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