Delta of Venus (Penguin Modern Classics) (1969 original; edició 2000)

Disturbing rather than arousing, the hailed classic erotica Delta of Venus reads like a very long foreplay without reaching any climax. Interspersed with interesting bouts of obsession, violence, perversity, and the offensive in a series of short stories where some are linked, the capability of humans to act on their animalistic needs resulting in filthy and horrendous sexual behaviours and relations are as disgusting as one can imagine. From pedophilia, bestiality, necrophilia, incest, ménage à trois to somnophilia (you name it this have it like a porn site menu in written form), these do not suffice to form any literary appreciation in my mind that tries to separate itself from my own personal moral code.

However creative and provoking this is, unfortunately, it can get repetitive and not enough to keep me from falling asleep twice or thrice. And whilst this book is disturbing it disturbs me more that I have fallen asleep reading it. I am afraid the effect Nin might have been aiming for did not reach me at all. I do not deny the fact that Nin has a controversial penchant and undeniable talent in writing such a genre in comparison, to let's say, the author of Fifty Shades. But the word "penis" is overused it's a sad. And so is the rest of this. ( )

Pfooh... that took me a loooooooong time. To finish this collection of stories, I mean. Wait, no... stories is not the right word. Endless sequence of sex, people talking about sex and people thinking about sex, without a beginning, a middle or an end is a better description. There is no purpose, no depth, no development, ... nothing but sex.

The most interesting part of the collection to me, was the preface wherein the author shines light on the background of her being commissioned writing erotica. Other than that, none of the stories really struck me as worthwile retelling, sharing or even remembering.

It's a shame, really, as I started reading with high hopes. A female author publishes erotica in the 70'ies which critics give the stamp 'literature'. Can't be too bad, right? Wrong... :-( ( )

Smart erotica ( )

I will review the reviews of this book: the 4/5 star reviews give many excellent insights into why this is such a compelling read and definitely worth your time. The people who complain “ick incest/necrophilia/rape/pedophilia/any other perversion” seem to be people who were looking for porn and are annoyed that instead they got a book about the complex intersection between humanity’s animal nature and our overly evolved and somewhat fucked up brains, all from a brilliant woman’s perspective. If you are looking for sexy smut, the brief parts of her diaries that I have already read seem a better option, although I also found lots more insights into human psychology, fun reads and interesting stories.

PS Nin seems a better, more interesting and still relevant writer than Henry Miller, again from the brief readings of his works I’ve done. In many ways (style, subject matter, genre) she reminds me of George Moore. ( )

It's a difficult one to rate this and for a couple of reasons.

The writing is beautifully lyrical and I know some of the character portraits will stay with me (the keeper of Balzac's house, a distant mummified woman guarding a distant mummified place, deserves her own novel). But the stories were written first and foremost as titillation for an undemanding client, so the stories and characters, with the odd exception, feel nebulous and unformed – tossed off, if you'll forgive the phrase.

Reading endless descriptions of sex is also, ultimately, quite boring. No one got Playboy for the articles.

The other reason I'm finding it difficult to rate goes a bit deeper.

The book's a good reminder that sex wasn't invented in the 1960s and whatever you've got up to, your grandparents probably did it before you (soz). But that doesn't mean it wasn't written in a time when open discussion of sexual acts was less acceptable, and I've never better understood the saying "when nothing is permissible, everything is".

Much of the business described is more or less conventional – at least by modern standards – but there's also a great deal that is most definitely not, and most definitely not OK. Just as you're getting into the rhythm of sex-positive feminist writing, you'll suddenly be hit with descriptions of rape or child abuse or bestiality or necrophilia – all described in the same register as consenting adult sex. And that is, to say the least, off-putting.

So while much of Nin's writing is very fine, a lot of what she describes is actually pretty horrible and described in a manner apparently intended to forgive or romanticise it. And so I don't really feel I can give it any sort of rating. For the capability of the writer, the score should be very high; for the use to which she puts it, it should be less than zero.