Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Books Dirty Smut and Empowerment
Posted by Paul Constant on Tue, Mar 3, 2009 at 4:54 PM
Last year, I wrote about a German erotic novel that veered toward the grotesque:
Germany—in fact, based on global book-sales lists, the entire world—is abuzz over a novel titled Feuchtgebiete (in English, Wetlands), by an author named Charlotte Roche. It's an erotic novel narrated by an 18-year-old woman with a propensity toward all things unhygienic. Wetlands will be published in America next year, but it's already made news, from the New York Times to Jezebel.com, Gawker Media's feminist blog.
Jezebel's Jessica Grose translated a few bits of Wetlands and the blog's commenters have been mortified by these brief, clumsy passages. The novel's narrator explains: "I've been experimenting for quite a while with unwashed pussy. My goal is for it to be easily and seductively smelled through pants, even through thick jeans or ski pants." She continues, "I use my own pussy juice the way others use their perfume bottles. I stick a finger in my pussy and then dab the slime behind my earlobes. It works wonders when you're kissing people on the cheek."
It's going to be published in America in April, but it's been released in Canada already, and Lisa Carver, who for a long time produced a great zine called Roller Derby, has a review up in the Globe and Mail.
How could some of those who have commented on the book in other countries have called Wetlands porn? Helen is a child, a wounded person in a hostile environment, creating her own pride and boundaries. Without self-pity, without therapy. Just creation of self by any means necessary, creation of memory where shock and fear made the outlines of the event waver like a mirage. Because there is little precedent in literature for a pure female hero, our bad, skinny, lonely, aggressive Helen is difficult to recognize as such. She has no tenderness for herself, and so there is no guide for where or how to see what is true and fragile in this young, gross, criminal slut; it is up to us, the readers, to find our own tenderness.
I loved Carver's first book, Dancing Queen, when it was first released. I was not so crazy about her memoir, Drugs Are Nice, but I'm pleased to see she's still writing about popular culture; she's one of my favorite commentators. You should check out her review.
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She was a VJ, but she's had to move on. Shit doesn't last long. I had my first midlife crisis at 25, when I realized I couldn't be a VJ. Actually, I kind of respect her, without knowing much more about her than about Heike Makatsch.
Not surprised Carver endorsed this book, and thus convincing me to buy it the minute I see it in a local book store come April.
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