SODOMY! Stories by
Simon Sheppard
Lethe
Press, 2010
ISBN
978-1-59021-031-4
I've
reviewed dozens of erotic books in the last decade, but never one
with such an in-your-face title as Simon Sheppard's short story
collection, SODOMY! What a title to have screaming from your
bookshelves, in red upper-case letters, complete with exclamation
point. Better not leave it out when your more sensitive or squeamish
friends come by, not unless you want them to know the whole truth
about your kinky-slut, polymorphous-perverse alter-ego!
Given
the title, plus my previous experience reading some of Simon
Sheppard's tales, I was expecting something quite different from what
I found within the covers. I was anticipating brutal butt-fucks,
anonymous hook-ups, live-on-the-edge extreme couplings, sweat and
spunk, maybe even shit and blood – a raw picture of rough gay sex
through the eyes of a veteran. By contrast, the stories in SODOMY!
turned out to be, in many cases, almost quiet – graceful,
clever, literate, emotionally evocative narrations in which even
casual encounters turn out to touch some chord beyond the physical.
Don't misunderstand – there's plenty of butt-fucking in this
collection, not to mention cock-sucking, spanking, and other sexual
delights. Overall, though, the mood of these stories is more
contemplative than shocking. A more appropriate (but I suspect far
less marketable) title might be borrowed from the Victorian era
classic: The Romance of Lust.
Perhaps
the clearest example is “The Hula-hula Girl”. An aspiring writer
turned dock worker in nineteen forties San Francisco picks up a young
sailor in an all-night diner. On his way to Hawaii, Karl the Navy
boy has a tattoo of a hula girl on his chest.
Maybe the smart
thing would be to ask him to put on his clothes and get out. I figure
I can handle him, whatever comes up. But the hula-hula girl just
won't shut up. Come lie on the beach at Waikiki, she purrs,
all colored ink and firm young flesh, and let the warm waves wash
over your body.
It's
not clear that Karl is exactly gay, but he's more than willing to
have his cock sucked when he's shipping out on the morrow. The
nameless narrator informs us that he's never considered a tattoo –
too permanent, he says. Why tempt fate? Yet two months later,
a month after the Pearl Harbor attack has apparently dragged Karl
down to a watery grave, he's standing in front of his mirror with his
own hula-girl tattoo and getting ready to enlist.
The
romance genre is about everlasting love. In contrast, Sheppard's
stories focus on impermanence, transient relationships that flare
bright and then subside (or literally die). Still, the sense of
romance is there, the feeling that one can be moved and changed by
the experience of shared lust.
“Days”
offers another, less dark instance of this theme. The narrator (many
though not all of the stories in SODOMY!
use first-person point-of-view) meets a young, innocent-seeming lad
named Howard outside the Castro Theater. “Not a very sexy name,
huh?” Howard comments, completely aware of his appeal, “perfectly
imperfect” in the eyes of the narrator. An intense, kinky scene
ensues.
I'm really rather
good at spanking, if I do say so myself, and I tried to do my level
best with you. It was so lovely to watch your fleshy ass move with
the blows, like little tidal ripples of sex...I kind of hate it when
people use religious metaphors for SM – it both seems rather
pretentious and gives the game away – but this was becoming a
spiritual experience, no doubt about it. At least for me.
They
see each other a few more times and then the relationship comes to an
“indecisive close”. No forever after, not even close. Yet the
tiny perfect moments in those sexual encounters, the instants of
simultaneous joy and complementary fantasy, remain real and somehow
important.
Several
of the tales take stereotypic porn scenarios and turn them on their
heads. When you hear the title, “Two Bikers in a Room at the Motel
6”, you think you know what the story will be about. You wouldn't
guess that one guy would be a married, straight Harley rider who just
happens to like taking it in the ass, and the other a well-groomed
gay college professor on a fancy Suzuki. “Brutes” is a hot yet
heart-warming tale about a fat guy with a wrestler fetish, who
discovers that the blond, muscle-bound star he idolizes just happens
to be partial to heavy-set men. “About Gordon” is told by an
experienced older man (Hal) who meets a sexy, geeky-looking young guy
on the Internet (Gordon). The reader expects that Hal will show
Gordon the ropes, but the reality is quite the opposite.
The
story that came closest to my expectations was “Barebacking”,
which concerns itself with the possibly fatal attraction of
unprotected sex. The tale is raw, dangerous, and seductive, but even
here there's hesitation, second thoughts. Sheppard leaves the reader
to decide whether the narrator will continue his pleasurable but
risky activities or not.
As
Sheppard notes in his insightful introduction, many of the stories in
this book are about writers. Two notable tales, “Lorca” and
“Marcos y Che”, effectively alternate scenes from “real life”
with excerpts from stories a character is in the midst of writing.
The sharp, funny initial story in the collection, “A Retired Writer
in the Sun” involves a gay graduate student named Quilty,
interviewing an aged, legendary author of gay porn called the Witch
of Capri for the purposes of his dissertation. As the Witch “sipped
his gin and tonic and looked off to the horizon, where an improbably
lovely sunset, freighted with metaphor, colored the afternoon”, he
pontificates on the “lamentable” current state of erotic writing
and mourns that fact that everyone wants “narrative consistency”.
When the Witch becomes director of a smutty scene between Quilty and
the serving boy Paulo, Quilty starts to understand the differences
between life and literature.
I
don't want to cover every story in the book – better to allow you
to discover these jewels on your own – but I must mention “Three
Places in New England” because of its structural perfection. Three
places – Boston, New Haven, Montpelier. Three men, two of them
strangers, one the committed partner of the narrator. In a mere nine
pages, Sheppard constructs a masterful exposition on the difference
between lust and love, managing to suggest, to me at least, that love
may be at a disadvantage. Narrative consistency is only the
beginning.
With
this collection, Simon Sheppard demonstrates that literate porn is
not an oxymoron. The stories in this volume offer a good deal of
humor, some of it self-deprecating, but ultimately I think Sheppard
is serious when he says, in “A Retired Writer...”:
“I'd bet that
many of us who write dirty stories do it, at least in part, in an
attempt to master lust. Not to overcome it, but to make it, through
thought and word, our servant. To capture desire, quintessential
desire. And in this we are damn well bound to lose.”
Personally,
I think that Simon Sheppard is far too pessimistic here. His tales,
by hints and indirections, do succeed in capturing some of lust's
strange magic. SODOMY! might have surprised me, but it did not
disappoint.
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