Why Would We Stop Writing Sex Scenes?

Some Thoughts on a Recent Article

This post is a response to Liza Libes’ article, “Stop Writing Sex Scenes”. If you haven’t read it and are interested in her take, you can read it here.

Since I started writing this post I have seen a lot of takes on the original, mostly in notes (though I also found an article that I promised myself I could read once I finished this essay) and I was kind of worried that maybe everything that needs to be said has already been hashed out. However, since I put the time and effort into writing this thing I’ve decided to go ahead and post.

Photo by Kaitlyn Baker on Unsplash

By way of a quick summary, essentially, Liza argues that explicit sex shouldn’t be written, particularly in literary works, and that readers don’t actually want to read sex scenes anyways - unless they’ve specifically sought out a work for the purpose of sexual gratification.

“. . .no sane reader, after all, wants to read graphic sex scenes in a serious novel unless they are coming to that novel for their own sexual gratification.”¹

And,

“. . .The fact is that there is no such thing as good sex writing because sex writing is nothing other than pornography —”

She makes the case that many sex scenes in books are gratuitous and then references a poll she took on her social media page of her readership, declaring that the readers who participated in her survey don't care for gratuitous sex, and therefore “the majority of readers don’t like graphic sex” - a faulty extrapolation. She suggests that many authors seem to use sex scenes to explore specific personal "fetishes" and she then asks why we use literature to showcase explicitly sexual material². The article is ultimately concluded with an exhortation to stop writing sex scenes.

---

Sex in Literature

- Gratuitous or Otherwise -

Libes’ piece felt scattered to me - like we were threading so many different threads through one needle and it took a few reads for me to hone the primary argument she was trying to make³. Ultimately, I think the core of her argument hinges on the idea that because sex writing can be defined as pornographic it cannot be written well.

Due to the focus of my piece, we're going to use the following definition for “pornography”:

literary pornography: sexually explicit written material, written with the effect of creating sexual arousal.

Notice, I said effect and not intent. Why effect? Because while much sexual content is written with the intent of creating sexual arousal, there are also swaths that create arousal where it’s more of a byproduct - the work itself might be focusing on themes of assault⁴ for example - wherein the reader might be "aroused" but not pleasurably - it sickening and difficult to read, and the point isn't pleasure, but horror, grief, revulsion, empathy and potentially even action. ⁵ And since Ms. Libes did specifically draw in an example of writing sex in the context of a work on sexual assault, I want my response to be broad enough to include it.

Alright, we focused in and crafted our definition, let’s zoom out again a little bit and look at the two broad questions she addresses:

1. Should sex be written? (This one pisses me off because she shot all around with gratuitous sex, personal gratification, assault, and authorial fetishes - I would argue each of these have their own personal considerations and therefore should not be collectively lumped into “don’t write sex”. Though she did also comment about the issue of sex being personal and private - but it’s not like it was a core argument, it was just tossed in the soup with everything else).

2. Can it be written well? (This one is a lot easier to pin down - she specifically states that because of its nature it cannot be written well).

---

Should Sex Be Written?

Sex is the secret that everyone is in on. In a very real sense it is private and personal, but broadly speaking, it’s just. . . human. We live, we love, we laugh, we cry, we have sex.

Considering the fact that most literature and genre fiction explores the human experience, it seems silly to me to tell authors to simply stop writing it.

Maybe authors and readers ought to have conversations about unnecessary or cringey sex (I would also like to point out that you can also just put the book down or skip the scene - nobody is forcing you to read it), but to be rid of written sex in general because it’s personal? Well, I think that misses the necessary tension of the nature of sex itself: it’s both deeply personal and universally shared.

---

Can Sex Be Written Well?

This is, quite frankly, deeply subjective. As are most questions regarding “good writing”, outside of the mechanics of writing and rules of grammar.

I would argue that yes, sex can be written well. Like anything else we write about. I would also argue that it's maybe less formulaic? Sex is not just the mechanical act of bodies joining, and its not always a romantic act born of trust and desire - and neither of those statements is an assertion morality or ethics, by the way.

Sex is, by nature, multitude.

Sex is a potential for goodness and beauty or horrible violation. It holds the potential for transcendent pleasure, monotonous repetition or moments of connection.

It can build off the value of each person or be used to degrade and discard.

It can deepen connection, emphasize loneliness, alienate and satisfy.

It is connection, indulgence, grief, desperation, and affection.

Sex can be boring, mind blowing, careful, careless, commitment, fling, expression -

Sometimes written sex is about exploring theme, sometimes its about exploring character, sometimes its about drawing out relationship dynamics. Sometimes it's more casual: an acknowledgement, a universal truth. Sometimes it's an indulgence, sometimes it's a reflection.

But in all cases it is deeply human.

What else do we write about?

1. I take this assertion personally, as I do consider myself a sane reader of “serious novels”, reading both for and beyond sexual gratification, thankyouverymuch.

2. She tries to underscore her point by comparing writing to film - a visual medium. Not entirely sure where we were going there?

3. let’s be honest - I do this myself in my own work. Take that as you will.

4. Please note that in acknowledging this, I'm not saying authors should be explicit or that readers must read explicit assault. I’m just acknowledging that there can be very intentional times and places for such things and it should be handled with great care.

5. I'm not sure if this holds true in "literature" but within the romance community there is also conversation about using sexually explicit material as a way of navigating past trauma or pain. I will say that in my own experience it can be a very valuable asset in this regard.