Despite Their Erotic Titles, These Books Are Not Erotica
And I feel really weird about it
Published in
2 min readMay 16, 2023
- The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin is definitely not a fantasy tale about women pleasuring themselves with their left hands. And yet, for years I was told this was a feminist work of art.
- Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami is technically about sexual relations, but in a literary way — and it’s narrated by a man — both of which totally killed any chance of a lady boner for me.
- How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie is indeed the manipulatively kinky text about controlling others that I assumed it would be, but sadly it failed to execute the role play vignettes with enough sadism to satisfy my inner dominatrix.
- The Secret by Rhonda Byrne was the least titillating experience I’ve ever had whilst wearing my red satin druid’s cape. There is no naughty, moonlit, secretive sex involved in this text and reading it manifested nothing but disappointment, which is one kink I’m definitely not into.
- The Dream of the Red Chamber by Cao Xueqin involves a lot of Chinese dynasty drama and was ultimately a letdown as it involved ZERO sexy torture chamber play where the result would of course have been (consensual) blood-covered walls.
- The Naked Ape by Desmond Morris turns out to be a very dry zoological study, and not an account of people giving into their primal, sexual instincts while feeding each other very ripe bananas.
- The title of Antoine de Saint-Exupery’s The Little Prince is in fact not a euphemism for a small yet powerful “scepter” which was awkward to discover since it’s apparently “common knowledge” this book is meant for children.
- Though, the worst title I’ve ever had the misfortune of misunderstanding is Your Erroneous Zones by Wayne W. Dyer. Obviously, I meant to purchase the book called Your Erogenous Zones, but somehow it does not exist.
- The Naked Chef by Jamie Oliver is absolutely not a food porn confessional that would ignite my appetite for artisanal sausage. It’s just…recipes? On purpose?? I don’t think I’m a pervert for expecting more.
- Lois Lowry’s The Giver is the last straw and I hereby beg children’s lit writers to concoct straightforward, non-erotic titles for their books! I was convinced this story would chronicle the sexcapades of a wise old Dungeon Master really giving it to their Continuing Education pupil. Nope!
