Wednesday, September 12, 2007

When is Bad Sex Good Sex?

Ah, the questions that come to one as one scrambles to put a post together for this blog. Sorry, I'm late guys, but I thought it was still Tuesday. And with that warning on the state of my mindset...

When is Bad Sex Good Sex?

Now I don't mean bad sex in the sense of hot, dirty, messy, oh-my-god-take-me-now sex.

I mean it in the sense of oh-my-god-just-finish-already sex.

You know, real life sex.

The sex that happens when the two halves of a couple have different agendas. He wants a quick shag and she wants it long, slow, and lingering. There is some play or musical somewhere (I am thinking "Chicago", but I could be wrong), where the female singer complains that foreplay consists of tweaking the boobs. (Maybe not "Chicago", I can't track down the song.)

So when is Bad Sex Good Sex?

Well, in real life, Bad Sex is bad sex. But in fiction? Honey, it reveals character.

Loads of it. And not all of it pretty. We see the flaws in our hero and heroine, how they are not ready for a deeper relationship (cf. quick shag), what they find important because they're not getting it, and more importantly, we eventually see that bad sex becoming good sex becoming hot DANG! sex.

And that is when Bad Sex is Good Sex. When it creates story and conflict and room for growth.

Right now, I'm reading a fantasy novel by Sarah Monette called "Melusine". I'm just starting to get into it. But there's some serious bad sex in just the first couple of chapters. Bad sex creating magic for nefarious purposes. I think this might be the first time I've seen a protagonist so thoroughly broken on stage. Usually they arrive broken.

When is Bad Sex good for you?

2 comments:

Kate Pearce said...

OMG, I love writing those bad sex scenes-I'm contemplating one for my first menage scene that I'm just about to write-becuase goodness knows its complicated enough managing 2 sets of body parts, let alone 3!

Pam Rosenthal said...

Well, there's the Booker-shortlisted Chesnil Beach, by Ian McEwan, about 2 50s virgins on their wedding night. I only read the excrutiating New Yorker excerpt, but my husband read the whole thing, and said it was excellent.