NYT: Pedophilia & One-Night Romps are Equally Sexy Hijinks!

In a review titled, no kidding, “John Colapinto Revives the Male-Centric Literary Sex Novel,” we get this gem of a passage: 

There was a time when the great American male novelists took delight in writing about sex. Rebelling against a literary tradition that perhaps underestimated how much space animal urges take up in the male brain, many big hitters of the 20th century, like Norman Mailer, Vladimir Nabokov, Henry Miller, Philip Roth, John Updike and Saul Bellow, dived into the muck with the zeal of Rabelais or Cleland.

Sex was freedom, sex was adventure, sex was a good time, sex was pain, sex was life. Masturbation, threesomes, pedophilia, extramarital flings, one-night romps: It was all up for grabs, and how they grabbed it.

Yeppers. Sex was a good time. Especially all that child rape. Raping children was just like masturbation or threesomes or “extramarital flings.” It was LIFE, I tell you. What the SHIT?

The entire story is a shitshow, its premise that modern men are pussified and afraid to write about the boldness of their wanting girls half their ages, unlike those Real Mayunns of old. Who has ruined these men and their strong, hard, turgid writing? Feminists, of course:

Katie Roiphe lamented the inability of male novelists to reckon with lust in a 2009 essay in The New York Times, and not much has changed in the years since. For the crew of writers that includes Dave Eggers, Benjamin Kunkel and Jonathan Safran Foer, she wrote, “Innocence is more fashionable than virility, the cuddle preferable to sex.”

Publishers of literary fiction, perhaps afraid to alienate their biggest customers — women, whoread more than men — aren’t exactly rushing to release the next male-written sexually provocative novel.

Because there is apparently not an entire entertainment industry predicated on young hotties wanting to hook up with the schlubbiest guy in the room. That’s not a thing that happens, that May-December of Next Year romance in which the elderly dude thinks with his peen. There are no movies about it.

Colapinto’s publisher offers this stirring defense of his author’s literary merit:

“If we’re on trial, no decency laws have yet been broken,” said Dan Smetanka, the acquiring editor at Soft Skull.

EXCELLENT NEWS, FUCKSTICK! But I’m still stuck on “pedophilia” being one of the many fun sex things that has fallen out of favor because of “modern times” and “not wanting to wind up in prison” and other such killjoys:

Books and their authors are products of their time. One wonders if any sexually frank novel published today could rattle the culture in the way that “Portnoy’s Complaint” did back when books could go further than movies. At the same time, playing the role of a middle-aged male sexual provocateur in an era of safe spaces and trigger warnings is a risky proposition.

Safe spaces. Such as those inhabited by children who need to be “trigger warned” and also NOT RAPED. Such a damn buzzkill, you guys. It’s a wonder anybody manages to write anything at all anymore.

via Jacob.

A.

4 thoughts on “NYT: Pedophilia & One-Night Romps are Equally Sexy Hijinks!

  1. Peter Adrastos Athas says:

    What a maroon.

  2. Tallmutha says:

    I’m gonna guess that the writer of that piece had Lolita in mind. But if so it doesn’t appear that they understand Lolita very well.

  3. darrelplant says:

    They also apparently don’t read the Fiction in The New Yorker very often, because pretty much every other story is about some schlubby old guy lusting after a hot young (though not generally underage) thing.

  4. DMC says:

    It all winds up being very “Death in Venice” if you think about it. Age grasping after youth, figuratively and literally. But seriously, the NYT needs to think twice about this reviewer.

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