Review: Amorous Woman

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Amorous Woman by Donna George Storey

Iro Books, 2012

ISBN 978-1-9056-1917-7

I was musing about erotica recently and realized that all my own novels, as well as most of my favorite work by other authors, could be viewed as stories about journeys. I'm not talking about travel in space. I am referring to an intellectual and emotional exploration, a progression in which characters begin in one psychological place and end up somewhere quite different, changed, more perceptive, perhaps more accepting of themselves, with an improved understanding of their needs and desires. Of course, many mainstream novels can be seen in this light. In erotica, however, the characters' sexual activities and discoveries are the agents of change.

Donna George Storey's wonderful first novel AMOROUS WOMAN is an exceptional example. In the case of Lydia, Ms. Storey's heroine, there is a physical voyage as well, to the fascinating and frustrating culture of contemporary Japan. However, Lydia's real journey is internal, as she strives to balance her sometimes reckless hunger for new sensations with her need for human connection.

Lydia flies to Kyoto eager to taste all the cultural and sensual delicacies that Japan has to offer. Fluent in Japanese, she finds the country more accessible than it would be to most, but in her relationships with its people, and especially its men, she is repeatedly disappointed. She becomes an English teacher bedding college boys, a dutiful wife to a handsome but overworked salaryman, mistress and companion to a powerful tycoon, an exclusive female escort, a sex performer. The delicate perversity of Japanese sexuality continually attracts her. She aches to be included, but no matter how correct her grammar and how outrageous her sexual behavior, ultimately, she remains the gaijin, the stranger.

Ms. Storey takes us back to meet Lydia in her teens, when she first discovers the power of her sexual imagination. From her worldly older cousin she learns the difference between "good" and "bad" girls; it is abundantly clear which category she belongs to. Her imaginary lover encourages her to be audacious:

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"You have become a bad girl since you started listening to your cousin. But of course I'm very glad that you're taking her advice. The world would be a happier place with more women like her."

"I'm not sure I have the nerve to do what she said," I confessed.

"Of course you do. I want you to do it and you don't want to disappoint me. Why don't you pick up that brush and press it against your virgin hole?"

With a quivering hand, I reached for the brush and held the rounded end of the handle against my secret lips.

...

"Very good. I knew you could do it. Now move it in and out slowly. I know you want to open yourself for your lover. And for me."

This is indeed exactly what I wanted to do. Somehow he always knew just what to make me do, as if he could see desires inside me I didn't myself understand.

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Lydia brings this openness to experience, this willingness to take risks, with her to Japan, where it carries her into adventures and even dangers. What she really craves, though, is to belong.

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"What brings you to Japan, Lydia-san?" Dr. Shinohara asked.

...

The honest answer was that I came because I craved adventure, a life of surprises, a non-stop feast of exotic sensual pleasure, anything but a job in investment banking like most of my college friends. But at this point it was probably better to give the doctor my safe, standard line.

"I came to Kyoto to learn traditional Japanese dance."

"I see. Do you enjoy wearing kimono?"

Should I tell him the truth now -- that it feels unspeakably sexy to wear one and I loved being bound by the column of cloth hobbling my legs and the obi's snug embrace of my breasts? It probably meant I was a sexual masochist, but I didn't really want to admit it. More exciting was the promise of transformation through that bondage, the chance to shed my foreign awkwardness for the Japanese dancer's gliding grace.

"Yes, I do like wearing kimono, but it's a challenge, too. I have to move my body in a different way, so maybe I can understand, just a little, what it's like to be Japanese. I think it is the Japanese way, in dance and in life, to transform ..." I pulled my English-Japanese dictionary from my book bag and quickly leafed through it for the right word.

"Constriction," Dr. Matsumoto read out for me.

"To transform constriction into art."

"Lydia-san understands Japan very well," Dr. Shinohara said to his friend.

...

I bowed my head, my cheeks burning with pleasure. I'd not only been seen, but embraced. How could he have known that was my secret fantasy - the fantasy of all true Kyoto gaijin - that our wandering spirits had reconnected us with us with our lost host?

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Lydia's journey takes years. As she delves deeper into Japanese culture as well as her own sexual complexities, she feels more rather than less alien. She begins to take greater risks, flaunting her extravagant sexuality because she can, rather than because she really wants to. Finally, confronted with a man who desires and understands her, whom she probably could love if he weren't married, she has the courage to stop and examine her behavior and desires, and to choose a new path.

I enjoyed Amorous Woman more than any erotic novel I've read in a long while. Ms. Storey writes with insight and humor. She vividly conveys the sensual experiences of living in a new land.

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Each day of my first year in Kyoto brought some wonderful new discovery - a mysterious fox shrine tucked away in a winding alley, the beguiling sweetness of bean jam wrapped in soft rice pastry, a lovely boy bowing nervously as I ushered him into my apartment. Even in the recollection there is magic. The whole year seems to fold in on itself like a dancer's fan, leaving one perfect day in high summer.

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As someone who has made her own voyages of discovery into strange cultures, I strongly identified with Lydia and her lust for new experience, as well as her desire to be a part of the wonders around her.

However, Ms. Storey understands more than just foreign cultures. She is an expert at expressing the complexities of sexual relationships. Amorous Woman includes both real encounters and some deliciously extreme fantasies that Lydia entertains. I found the real-world scenarios more exciting. Ms. Storey manages to show us Lydia's doubts, fears and confusion while still keeping the sexual temperature turned up to the maximum.

Amorous Woman is definitely arousing but it is much more than a light-hearted bedroom romp through Japan. It is a believable and moving tale of one woman's journey of sexual self-discovery. If you don't mind some serious content mixed with your sex, I recommend it highly.

Discovering Sex and Self in a Foreign Land

By Donna George Storey (Guest Blogger)

Thanks so much for hosting me at your blog, Lisabet. It’s an especially fitting place to celebrate the ebook release of my novel, Amorous Woman, because your first novel, Raw Silk, a mesmerizing erotic tale of Thailand, was a great inspiration for me to write about my own experiences living in Japan.

Perhaps it’s not surprising that both of our novels follow a time-honored master narrative—a woman’s journey of erotic discovery. And in both Raw Silk and Amorous Woman, the heroine’s relationship with her lovers is mirrored by her growing intimacy with a new and fascinating culture. I’ll confess I also lifted another model for my first book-length project: the plot of a 17^th century Japanese erotic classic called The Life of An Amorous Woman by Ihara Saikaku. With a sharp eye for the humor in Japanese society, Saikaku allowed his lusty protagonist to experience every role open to women of her time from a court lady to a streetwalker. (Perhaps the perennial appeal of the female experience earned this book more sales and critical acclaim than his The Life of an Amorous Man). I translated this story into an exploration of a foreigner’s experience in Japan in the late twentieth century. My protagonist, Lydia Evans Yoshikawa, starts off as an English teacher, marries a Japanese businessman, becomes a bar hostess, the mistress of a rich man, and finally a call girl. Her desire to get closer to Japan is sometimes frustrated, sometimes delightfully fulfilled. I’m gratified to say that fellow gaijin (the Japanese word for “foreigner”) almost always tell me I got it just right.

While I thoroughly enjoyed bringing to life my sensual memories from the three years I lived in Japan—the delicious and beautifully arranged meals, the scent of fresh straw floor mats and the cool glide of a silk kimono on my skin—I found as I wrote Amorous Woman that I was gaining a valuable perspective on my own sexual odyssey. Society gives us so many messages about what sex should be. The appeal of the story of a woman’s erotic education may indeed be that we all—male or female--must discovery for ourselves what sex and pleasure mean for us personally.

In that spirit, I wanted to share a scene from the novel that illustrates a critical moment of discovery for Lydia while she is still in America, but one that will resonate throughout the novel. She’s always been an “A” student and a “good girl,” still a virgin at eighteen. Her worldly cousin Caroline throws a party with plenty of handsome college boys so that Lydia can choose the man to deflower her. She also gives Lydia a lesson on how to give a good blow job to develop her confidence when she’s alone with her first lover. At the party, Lydia picks out the lucky guy and proceeds to seduce him by being light-heartedly honest about her intention to have sex with him that very night.

From Amorous Woman:

“Are you sure it’s okay if we use your cousin’s bed?” Mike said, frowning at the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the doorknob, which I ignored.

“Oh, yes, she knows we’re going to have sex. She reserved it especially for us.”

He shook his head and laughed again.

And then, well, I don’t remember exactly how we got naked, or who pushed whom down on the bed, or when exactly we stopped kissing and started doing other things, but there were more than a few firsts that night.

It was the first time a guy kissed my breasts so softly and slowly, I learned that lips tugging gently on my nipple could make me wet between my legs.

It was the first time I tried Marybeth’s lesson on a real penis—thank you Marybeth for a gift that keeps on giving. It was bigger than a thumb, but far more interesting. I loved the way it twitched when I stroked it, the way it grew even harder in my mouth, the way Mike moaned softly as he watched me do it, eyes glowing.

It was the first time I heard my favorite sound on earth—his sweet groan of homecoming as he slid inside my cunt.

And then, somehow, it wasn’t new any more. It’s as if I’d always known this: his warm weight pressing me down, his musky boy's smell, his soft lips and slick, snaky tongue, his satin-tipped hard-on and the taut curve of his ass. Then of course, that moment when he bucked and groaned and went crazy because of me just being there, just being.

I didn’t come that night--that first would happen thanks to the persistence and skill of the justly famed cunnilinguist Doug--but I was happy enough to take my ecstasy once-removed. Mike, bless him, didn’t ask too many questions.

I was the one who decided to confess as we lay together afterwards, just like on TV, with my head resting against his shoulder and his arm around me like we were a real couple. “That was the first time I’ve ever been with a guy, you know.”

“Lydia, you can stop kidding around now,” he said, but gently. Did he notice that of course, all my “jokes” turned out to be true?

“Why do you think I’m kidding?”

He frowned. “First of all, you give great head. There’s no way that was your first time. You’re a pro. Well, I didn’t mean it that way, you know, just that you knew exactly what to do.” He laughed, embarrassed, and stroked my hair. “And then, well, you were really into it.”

“I do like to joke around. It’s an old habit.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

“You know what? You’re fun. It’s easy to be with you.” He pulled me on top of him. “Wanna do it again?”

I nodded. Back in my high school, a million years and a billion miles away from where I was now, naked and straddling Mike’s hard belly, it was a bad thing for a girl to be “easy.” Now I knew the secret.

It was good.

**

That, I believe, is the secret of writing erotica as well!

Donna George Storey’s adults-only tales have appeared in over 150 journals and anthologies including Penthouse, Best Women’s Erotica, The Mammoth Book of Erotica Presents the Best of Donna George Storey, and Best Erotic Romance. Her novel, Amorous Woman, will change your image of Japan—and erotica—forever.

 Amorous Woman is available at: 

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Amorous Woman Book Trailer

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