Being a male erotica author, there are places I’m automatically
ineligible for publication. How do I feel about that?
Pretty good, actually.
Isn’t it discriminatory?
Technically, maybe. But not really, in my opinion.
Isn’t it unfair?
I don’t think so, all things considered.
Here’s how I see it: We live in a world in which women have been
second-class citizens–or worse–through most of history, in almost
every human society. To this day, women as a group are, to one extent or another, subordinated by patriarchal societies virtually
everywhere.
For example, in the U.S. (where I reside), this translates into a
continuing wage gap between men and women; persisting double standards regarding sexual freedom; and governmental policies that willfully and viciously restrict access to birth control and sex education (and we all know which sex that affects most severely).
And that’s the mild form of subordination. In other parts of the
world, a woman can still be sentenced to death for actual or alleged
sexual activity, by governments wedded to misogynistic ideologies.
Now, those societies are not the places where erotica is being
published, and so they are not directly related to this discussion;
but I mention the grim fact of their existence simply as part of the
big picture of women’s lives in twenty-first-century human society.
Bearing all of this in mind, I think, in our world, that it’s very
understandable that some women, seeking autonomy and independence and fulfillment, will insist on certain cultural spaces to call their own .Places where the content is not only “for women,” but also by women. Places where women, and women alone, articulate their own needs, their own concerns, their own problems, and their own fantasies.
And I think it’s no surprise that the broad area of sexuality–from
the erotic arts to sexual health to sexual self-discovery–is one
where it can be particularly important for women to have that room of their own. Because we live in a world in which women’s sexual needs, in particular, have been ignored, denied, misunderstood, and even demonized for century after century, by society after society.
On the one hand, consider the phenomenon of a dominant group shutting out an oppressed group (e.g., White people barring African Americans from their clubs, or heterosexual parade organizers prohibiting gay groups from participating in their festivities). On the other hand, picture a subordinated group restricting participation in its activities to members of that group (e.g., a ballroom dance class for lesbian couples only). The difference between these two types of scenarios is, in my opinion, a critical one. The former type of instance is an expression of bigotry, whereas the latter represents an attempt to secure a little independence and autonomy. These two types
of “discrimination” are just not the same.
I’m not presuming to say that the strong, self-actualized women who publish with a company like Black Lace are personally oppressed or victimized by male-dominated society. Nor am I asserting that about their readers. But I think there are good reasons for the fact that some women want to read erotic books put out by an all-female team
(it’s not just something created out of thin air by marketers), and
these reasons have to do with the historical and contemporary position of women in a patriarchal world. In that context, I think that”by and for women” enterprises represent a legitimate and healthy response to th e continuing struggle of women to claim their fulfillment and dignity in a world that still has a long, long way to go.
If the day comes that women run the world and guys like me have no place left to publish our smut, then I’ll protest. Until then, I say
long live the cultural spaces that women have designated as their own. May they blossom, thrive . . . and provide all of us with some damn sexy reading.
Jeremy Edwards
This essay originally ran at the Lust Bites blog in 2007
I think there’s a significant difference between a ‘cultural space to call their own’ and a commercial niche. While they can overlap, I believe that ‘women authors only’ fall more often into the latter category than the former.
Specifically, can the consumer/reader really tell if the author is female and not writing under a nom de plume? If you’re a member of that cultural space, probably yes, because you know the author or know trusted people (the publisher) who can vouch for the author’s gender. But if it’s just a book on the shelf at Barnes & Noble? The “all female writers” is nothing more than a marketing tag at that point.
Of course, it’s a valuable tag commercially. A woman talking about sex is, as a rule, more interesting and attractive than a man talking about sex (and think about the sexism in that). I see this in the fanmail my female author friends receive and I see this in the limited sales figures of printed books I have access to.
Which ultimately means that the marketing side really reinforces the sexism. The books aren’t sold on their merits, but on the author’s gender. It’d be one thing to market “for women” but when it’s “by women” you’re in an entirely different category.
Imagine a collection of “the best blues music by black guitarists.” Would this really serve black blues guitarists? Even if the majority of great blues guitarists are black, the artificial exclusion of Eric Clapton demeans them.
I think it’s the same with commercial erotica collections ‘by women authors.’
I don’t mind a ‘cultural space to call their own.’ I don’t mind marketing for a demographic or niche, i.e., “erotica for women”. But I do question whether it’s truly empowering to restrict a commercial niche to only producers of a certain group. To me, you’re simply saying,”we’re just not good enough to compete against all producers.” And that’s too bad.
Great post, Jeremy!
Big Ed, I agree with some of what you are saying. However, just because certain aspects of women’s erotica have been co-opted, it doesn’t follow that its prime worth is commercial, or that the enterprise is merely cynical. I’m a Black Lace author and, yup, they’re certainly weren’t a feminist press. The ‘by women, for women’ was largely a clever piece of marketing, appealing to both men and women. But that doesn’t invalidate the importance of a women-only arena for many writers and readers.
And you’re right, women’s erotica does gain much of its popularity from the oppressive cultural sexism which, for hundreds of years, has dictated that women conceal their desires and sexual selves. Guys like reading our smut. We can’t help that. The female narrator and her ‘confessional’ tale (as penned by male authors) was popular with a male readership long before authentic female voices arrived on the erotica scene (see Fanny Hill onwards).
And unfortunately, women’s erotica as a genre is certainly not free from sexism and it can be galling to see some imprints appearing to exploit that by ensuring their output doesn’t deter the trad male consumer. For 18 months, I co-ran a campaign, Erotica Cover Watch, seeking to challenge the sexism in erotica marketing’s insistence on putting sexy women on its covers, never sexy men. It’s staggering to see books supposedly aimed at heterosexual women featuring a woman’s arse on the cover. I wrote about one of the worst offenders, Cleis Press, a progressive, indie publishing house right here. It’s worth a read (warning: it’s quite heavy on the T and A).
So yes, guys like reading our smut. But dammit, so do women! And they want to be shown the shelves (virtual or real) where they can get their hands on dirty books in tune with their own desires, and they want to feel comfortable doing so. There’s still a certain amount of taboo and disapproval surrounding women seeking sexual gratification and consuming porn. And of course, a publisher or sex toy manufacturer who encourages us to spend by creating female-friendly spaces (such as with the reassuring ‘by women’) ain’t doing it for altruistic reasons. Nonetheless, I’m glad they’re doing it.
A fellow-author commented on Twitter that she’d have no problem with an imprint labelled ‘by men, for men’. But of course, historically, that’s all erotic and porn has ever been. There’s no need to label the default. It seems entirely appropriate that women’s erotica, a relative newcomer, gets tagged as such.
And I utterly refute the implication that gender-restricted publishing means we’re selling ourselves short, that our work lacks merit or that we’re only read because we’re women. There are many wonderful female erotica authors out there, and anyone who takes time to explore the genre will quickly be dispelled of such prejudice. Furthermore, I don’t think good male authors need fear that women are squeezing them out. I think the growth of women’s erotica is helping to pave the way for a new style of male-penned erotica – erotica such as Jeremy’s in which sensitive, horny, smart guys engage with fully-realized female characters for mutual pleasure. More quality erotica from men and women has got to be a good thing!
Hello, folks.
Thank you, OOP, for featuring my essay here. The history of the piece, for those who don’t know, is that it was originally posted in 2007 at the late lamented Lust Bites blog, as part of a series of guest posts. (This accounts for my outdated references to Black Lace.)
Thank you for the wonderful praise, Kristina, and it’s good to see all this thoughtful discussion on these issues that continue to have significance, both for erotic-literature producers and consumers and those concerned with equality in general.
The key thing for me, I suppose, is that any claim that a particular cultural product (e.g., a line of erotica books) is created exclusively by a traditionally subjugated group should have some credible connection to the discernible wishes of some members of that group, either at the producing or consuming end. So the existence of erotica lines by women always made sense to me (not that anyone need my permission!) because I assumed that there were women writers out there (some, not all) who wanted to work on such a project, and women readers out there (some, not all) who wanted to acquire such a product. Adding in middlepeople–investors, marketers, distributors, and other parties with a profit motive–doesn’t delegitimize the whole enterprise, imo, as long as one can still point convincingly to the product’s relationship to the goals of the constituent producers/consumers who wanted such a product.
I’m the fellow author Kristina’s quoting, and just wanted to add my agreement to the further points she made.
For me, Black Lace and other imprints and anthos aimed at and written by women represented something big for me, as a reader. They meant a lot to me, when I first started reading erotica and was encountering pretty much only “by men, for men”. So if market niches mean that ‘by women, for women’ keeps being produced, I’m never going to complain.
Kristina,
Just to be clear–I think the distinction of “for women” vs. “by women” is very important. “For women” is serving a market and a need. In pure economic terms, it’s not much different than “for upscale suburbanites” or “for single men in their 20′s.” A demographic is getting stuff that’s useful/interesting to them. That’s good.
What I was challenging was the marketing tag ‘by women.’ Yes, at one level it helps identify a ‘girls club’ and perhaps that helps counterbalance historical sexism. But I’m a little cynical here because, in the marketplace, I think that motive is minor compared to the weight of what sales figures do.
I do agree that some of the best erotica writers around right now are female. But I think the new style of male-penned erotica you talk about is the result of the growth of “for women” erotica, not “by women” erotica.
So I stand by my argument that one implication of gender-restricted publication is that you are indeed selling yourself short (your words). I doubt most feminists would accept an award called “the Pulitzer Prize for best writing by a woman.” Yet, other than scale, how is that different from when an editor says, “I will only accept the best stories written by a woman”?
The “2010 Best Women’s Erotica” collection will probably outsell the “2010 Best Erotica” collection. But which one will have the better stories overall? And what does it say when the tag “by women” is more important than the quality of the writing?
“For women” is definitely empowering. You’re powerful enough to be catered to and targeted as a market. But I’m cynical about the tag “by women” being particularly empowering at all.
Big Ed
A quick google shows me that since 1948, the Pulitzer Fiction Award has gone to 41 men and 16 women.
Since 1901 only 12 women have won the Nobel Prize in Literature.
The Man Booker Prize has gone to 15 women in 41 years.
Women-only prizes such as the Orange exist to try and correct this bias. I’m sure many of the women who accepted the Orange prize would be proud to call themselves feminists.
We won’t get gender equality by pretending we are all already equal, that the playing field is level and the competition is fair. It isn’t and positive discrimination strives to highlight and challenge that.
Again, I agree there are commercial motivations underpinning the ‘by women’ tag. But that isn’t its sole value. And I don’t think you can separate ‘by’ and ‘for’ as easily as you would wish. A book aimed at upscale suburbanites is most likely to be penned *by* an upscale suburbanite. Same with women’s erotica: we know and write well for the market because we *are* the market. And readers are reassured by that.
Anthologies such as Best Women’s Erotica don’t claim to be collections of the Best Erotica Ever in the World. It’s the best erotica by a particular sector of society for a particular reason. ‘Best Short Stories by Irish Authors who Wear Glasses and Have a Dog Called Rex’ would be much the same (but obviously, this group of people is much smaller than the one we’re talking about: women). There’s no trick. No one is saying the tag is more important than the quality of the writing. It’s a description, that’s all! If men and women are equally adept at penning smut then there should be no difference in quality between women-only, men-only and general erotica anthologies.
Kristina,
The phrase “positive discrimination” sounds a lot like “affirmative action.” I don’t want to get into a debate about affirmative action. In my opinion, it’s a big, complex topic and its implementation has its share of positives and negatives. It also has its share of fundamentally unresolvable questions, such as ‘how do you demonstrate equality of opportunity without mandating equality of outcomes’? Similarly, the reverse problem exists–a given outcome does not necessarily represent a bias. Correlation can be quite difficult.
If “by women only” erotica is the equivalent of affirmative action, then I hope I’ve pointed out that it too may have its downsides. The positives may still outweigh the negatives, but given their existence, I don’t have the enthusiasm for it that Jeremy does.
Now I do agree that women, on average, are likely to be better at writing erotica for women. But that’s on average. If a submissions call is restricted, it misses the potential Eric Clapton equivalents. That’s a loss of overall quality.
There’s actually a straightforward experiment that could confirm my point. Have a publisher put out a call for submissions for an anthology “for women” but don’t restrict the gender of the author. Then have the person receiving the submissions strip off all gender and author identifying material before sending the stories to the acceptance editor. Have them select the best stories. See what you get.
I doubt the selected stories would be 100% by women, even in an anthology targeted for women.
Or take the experiment one step further. Ask the authors to identify gender as part of their submission. Then strip all identifying information off and send the stories to two accepting editors. One gets all the submissions, the second gets only those from female authors. Compare the resulting anthologies on whatever quality metric you’d like (reviewers, sales, etc.).
(In Blink, Malcolm Gladwell discussed how orchestras had to move to blind auditions, where they couldn’t see the musicians. This eliminated prejudice against women and resulted in the hiring of stronger musicians. This is basically the same experiment.)
Such experiment(s) would be illuminating and, I think, establish whether such “women authors only” collections are really good on quality merits or mostly just marketing.
Big Ed
This is a fascinating discussion. I heard a talk mentioning those blind auditions for classical orchestras the other day. We talked about whether that could be applied to other creative fields. I dont think it would ever happen in pop music as gender is everything in pop!
As for erotica. I am pretty well a novice in the field, both as a reader and a writer. I think I have been prejudiced against ‘erotica’ as a genre as it is portrayed as pulp, like Mills and Boon or something.
I think we live in a time where publishing is changing. People produce work online, self-publish etc. I hope this opens new opportunities for all erotica writers.
I guess my view is that male heterosexuality dominates all cultural forms, so anyone challenging that norm is welcome in my book.
But when it comes to sex bloggers, the field is completely dominated by women. I would like to see some affirmative action to get more men sex bloggers out there. Any ideas? Could we add ‘forced blogging’ to the dominant woman’s repetoire maybe?
I think it’s problematic to reduce something like a “best of” literary anthology to a model whereby there is assumed to be a definite Pool (e.g., both genders) and pool (e.g., women only), with an objectively ascertainable ranking by quality such that taking the “20 best” from the larger Pool produces a higher-quality book than the “20 best” from the smaller pool.
“Best of” anthologies are extremely subjective and are subject to so many variables that effectively limit the actual pool, from timing to editor’s name recognition to pay to where a call is or isn’t publicized. Most editors also emphasize how greatly story selection is influenced by considerations of how the stories sit together–where they complement each other, for example, rather than overlapping each other. So I just don’t think it’s workable to try to make a quantified comparison of any two anthologies based on their demographics and say that a “best, women only” book will be inferior to a just-plain “best” book.
To take these thoughts a step further: Suppose the same editor simultaneously prepared two collections, one for women writers only and one open–same pay, same deadline, same publisher, same word-count requirements, same rights taken, same themes and subject-matter welcome, etc. Every male writer would submit one story, and every female writer would send two (which we will assume to be of “equal quality” to each other).
What would we get? Two fantastic books (or, if you happened to hate that editor’s tastes, two terrible books–subjectivity is huge!). I don’t think a reader who *did* like the editor’s selections, generally speaking, could credibly go through, story for story, and show that the “everyone” book was “better” in any objective way. Some readers would like one book better, some the other, some both equally; and I really think any such preferences would have to do with the specific stories that made it into the respective books, and not with the demographics. (Or if it were related to the demographics, it would be because Reader A had a personal preference for stories written by men/women–but this is not a “quality” issue.)
Also: Let’s not forget that a “women only” call might attract certain top-notch women writers who were more motivated to submit to that kind of project than to a general call, for ideological reasons or whatever. You’d get a different book, not an inferior book.
By the way–and I’ll shut up soon–I should probably say here, as I’ve said on my own blog (and, way back when, in the comments at Lust Bites), that my position isn’t that I’m saying women *should* do “women only” projects. (Why would I, a man, presume to tell women how they should or shouldn’t structure their self-expression?) My position is simply that if and when women *do* choose to pursue such projects, I can understand why and I don’t feel that my exclusion is unfair.