The Best-Worst Bits From This Year's 'Bad Sex In Fiction' Awards
The Debrief: Please take your 'bulbous salutation' elsewhere.
This year, as with every year since 1993, the Literary Review has singled out books for the prestigious Bad Sex in Fiction Award for any author who has ‘produced an outstandingly bad scene of sexual description in an otherwise good novel’. This is their way of drawing attention to ‘poorly written, perfunctory or defendant passages of sexual description’.
The Literary Review has announced its eight contenders and a winner will be announced on Tuesday 1 December. This person won last year, but while we wait for this year’s winner, here are the excerpts the judges saw fit to call BS on. So we’re going to as well.
List of the Lost by Morrissey
At this, Eliza and Ezra rolled together into the one giggling snowball of full-figured copulation, screaming and shouting as they playfully bit and pulled at each other in a dangerous and clamorous rollercoaster coil of sexually violent rotation with Eliza’s breasts barrel-rolled across Ezra’s howling mouth and the pained frenzy of his bulbous salutation extenuating his excitement as it whacked and smacked its way into every muscle of Eliza’s body except for the otherwise central zone.
Not only is this the longest ever sentence in the whole world, but dick-slapping (specifically by his ‘bulbous salutation’) is a central theme. Never ever sexy.
The Making of Zombie Wars: A Novel by Aleksandar Hemon
Then he slid up her body and his cock was inside her, and he was kissing her, the same whetted tongue now inside her mouth. Far in the back of whatever was left of his mind, the light of reason was struggling against being finally extinguished and he was aware that wearing a condom would’ve been a good idea, but there was no way that he was getting out of her, because she took him in and he was with her in every move, in every gasp, kiss, and lick…
The one that promotes un-safe sex. Sure.
Before, During, After by Richard Bausch
She reached up and brought him to her, then rolled over on top of him and began softly to move down. When she took him, still a little flaccid, into her mouth, he moaned, ‘Oh, lover.’ She felt him harden, and she tightened her lips and pulled, and then ran her tongue slow along the shaft, and then straightened and straddled him, guiding him into her, sinking and rising on him, head back, hands gripping his shoulders. It went on. It was very good.
If you’ve got to say, ‘It was very good’, it probably wasn’t very good.
Book of Numbers by Joshua Cohen
Her mouth was intensely ovoid, an almond mouth, of citrus crescents. And under that sling, her breasts were like young fawns, sheep frolicking in hyssop – Psalms were about to pour out of me.
Cohen literally just opened a thesaurus and picked some words, didn’t he?
Fear of Dying by Erica Jong
I slip into bed, amazed that Asher is making the first move – which is unusual for him.
While I lie next to him, astounded by his presence still, he opens my silk robe and touches my cunt as if he were Adam just discovering Eve’s pussy.
If you always have to make the first move, ditch him. Also, if sex involves biblical references, ditch him.
Fates and Furies by Lauren Groff
The party was loud. She pushed him back on the sandy tar paper, and he was looking up at her face in the glow, and she lifted her skirt and moved the crotch of her underwear aside, and Lotto, who was always ready, who was ready at the most abstract imaginings of a girl – footprints of a sandpiper like a crotch, gallons of milk evoking boobs – was not ready at this oh-so-abrupt beginning. It didn’t matter. Gwennie shoved him in though she was dry. He shut his eyes and thought of mangoes, split papayas, fruits tart and sweet and dripping with juice, and then it was off, and he groaned and his whole body turned sweet…
I don’t understand what I just read and what is sandy tar paper?
The Martini Shot by George Pelecanos
I stripped down to my boxer briefs and crouched over her. I let her pull me free because I knew she liked to. She stroked my pole and took off my briefs, and I got between her and spread her muscular thighs with my knees and rubbed myself against her until she was wet as a waterslide, and then I split her.
Waterslide. That is all. Actually, no it’s not. SPLIT her?! Stop.
Against Nature by Tomas Espedal
Héloïse has lost all sense of how she ought to behave, she practically throws herself at Abélard, pulls him to the floor and straddles him as if they’re two boys fighting. She presses him to the ground, pins his hands to the floor. She kisses his face and licks it. She bites his lip. She bites his cheek. She pants in his ear, shouts his name in his ear, she whips his face with her hair. She stops his mouth hard with her hand and takes his breath away. She rides above him the way she’d imagined that one day she’d ride a boy, a man, a beast...
I think Héloïse needs to chill TFO.
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You might want to think about the fact you're about to read something that wouldn't exactly get a PG rating