I don't know what it is about me...I have a fondness/curiosity towards literature about sexual perversions...I've read and loved Lolita, countless erotic anthologies, much of the Marquis de Sade's work(you know you've got sexual perversion down when they make your last name into an adjective depicting brutally violent sexual behavior), The Story of O, and now Edith Templeton's Gordon. As mentioned on the back of the book, there is a relationship to O, and her story, though on a slightly different level. Both women, Louisa(the protagonist in Gordon) and O are educated women who have had some sort of career...O is in fashion, Louisa served in the military. Both could see their self-worth in all that they've accomplished and through themselves, both enjoy being sexual slaves, however, to men. Okay, this is what I find really hard to wrap my head around. Both women, in their own ways, claim to almost be empowered by these relationships in which they are often taken against their will. O even undergoes severe bodily modification(rings hang from her labia, amongst other things...sorry for the graphic detail folks, but imagine reading pages about it) to prove that she is a slave to her master. Now, both subjugations are definitely psychological, though I would hasten to argue that O's slavery is definitely to the fullest definition...she is given/sold to other men because her master, Rene wants her to be used by them, she is his gift to guests/friends. Louisa is used only by Gordon, who uses humiliation both in the bedroom and in public locations to show his dominance over her, and she like O, openly mentions to the reader how much she enjoys this behavior, and when he ignores her completely, she is terribly upset. Here's where I take issue. So, you would rather be raped, or endlessly violated, than feel unwanted? Or rather, abuse is a sign of love? Perhaps this is a strong, truncated interpretation of the stories, but I'm not sure I see any kind of empowerment here. Though, Louisa, through her talks with Gordon pre and post the somewhat bizarre sexual encounters, awakens parts of her past which she hadn't addressed for many years, clearing up some psychological demons...Hmmm...perhaps it wasn't all bad. However, at the end, we discover that Gordon killed himself after he ended the relationship with Louisa and subsequently got married, to give that one last hurrah. It is implied that it was because Louisa was too good of a match for him, she enjoyed the abuse so much and took so much that it became too much for him...Huh. The human desire to be dominated is an interesting conundrum. I cannot say that I do not enjoy being dominated at some points in my life and in the bedroom, however, I do enjoy a bit of role reversal and being a somewhat assertive if not slightly aggressive lover myself. Everything carries tenderness with me, though, I am assertive but ardent. I want to make you cry with exhausted pleasure, not because I've beaten the living crap out of you, obviously. But, on the other hand, all of us, at some point or another, have been in relationships which were at the very least psychologically destructive on some level. Now, I'm all for handcuffs, and even some of the other more S&M things(whatever gets your rocks off, and I'll try anything once), but when your lover "rapes" you on more than one occasion, and you actually sort of like it(or that's implied), then first of all, can you call it rape? Second of all, don't you think there might be something else that you need to address? I don't know, I'm just sayin'. What I do really like about both Gordon and O is that both women have an unadulterated voice: they say exactly what they are thinking to the reader, in all its graphic detail(Louisa is much more well-educated and colours her narration with quotes from Goethe and other German poets and writers). Women writers, especially, have only been that graphic in the past 30 years I would hasten to say, and even then, the detail exposed in these books is not common. Open frank discussion about sex is extremely feminist(I think, I could be wrong), and highly refreshing especially since even I have a hard time doing it, and I write about sex A LOT. I would also say that along the same lines, embracing your sexuality and preference therein is also very forward given the times in which both books were published(mid last century I would say), and I applaud the writers for their voice and subject matter. What I am not sure about is how the protagonists go through with their sexual awakening, and how it is through subjugation by men. That is what I find inherently problematic. But, as Dennis Miller says, that's just my opinion. I could be wrong. One quote I loved from Gordon, is one from the psychiatrist himself(for that is what Louisa's lover is, a psychiatrist, which makes his domination and mind games all the more dangerous, I think). He says, "'You think life is like passing an exam. You get a good mark. Or a bad mark. And that's the end of it. But it isn't. You are your own examiner and it always goes on. It never stops'" (Templeton 52). I guess I like reading these books because I like to see what other people have to say about something so human, sex. And sex, whether you have a lot of it, none at all, in weird positions, with people of the same or opposite sex, is a part of all of our stories, however much we want to admit it. We're all here because of sex, we all dream of it on some level, and long for that basic of human needs. How we go about it just varies. I try not to pass judgement on others' sex lives, for I do not need them passing judgement on mine. Somethings just aren't for me. But, if they work for you, more power to you, I guess. Oh well. Fiction Junkie is still on vacation from the lists...