In the last decade, erotica has become popular, and to some extent, commercially successful. Major New York publishing houses have launched erotica imprints. Collections of the "best" women's erotica, best lesbian erotica, best gay erotica, BDSM erotica, spanking erotica, travel erotica, multicultural erotica, candy erotica, and a range of other themes hit the bookshelves with increasing frequency. The surge in electronic publishing has provided new opportunities for aspiring authors of erotica, as well as dramatically shortening the time between submission and print, and consequently, increasing the number of titles available.
Unfortunately, but perhaps inevitably, the popularity of erotic writing has produced a certain level of homogenization. Many anthologies restrict story length to 5000 words or less, resulting in tales that are little more than sexual interludes. There is scant time for character development, let alone for exploring deeper themes related to lust, love and sexuality. The notion that the goal of erotica should be, first and foremost, to arouse the reader, leads to lightweight, sexy stories that are enjoyable but rarely memorable.
In this environment, an original voice that defies these trends becomes all the more precious. C. Garcia-Sanchez is such a voice. The eBook Mortal Engines and The Color of the Moon offers two long stories - each far too long to be published in today's typical erotica collections. Both are emotionally intense and unfailingly provocative, not because of the sexual acts they depict (though both are explicitly sexual), but because of the thematic issues with which they concern themselves.
"Mortal Engines" has a science fiction frame, but that's just a device that allows Mr. Garcia-Sanchez to explore his main concern: what is it that makes us human, and where does sex fit into that equation? Middle-aged, confused and morose, Hal has just been dumped by his wife Nichelle. Sitting in a titty bar, nursing weak, overpriced beer, he ponders his failed life and relationship:
Every man in history eventually thinks the same thing. If only we could marry their bodies instead. Sex is easy. It's the rest of the baggage it carries that kills your love.
Hal decides to spend a major chunk of his life savings on an encounter with a state-of-the-art love-bot, a synthetic woman customized to his sexual specifications. When he meets Ilsa, however, he discovers that her warmth and tenderness affect him at least as much as her sexual perfection. He's convinced that she is a real woman, held in the high-class robo-brothel against her will, and agrees to help her escape.
You will not expect the outcome.
"Mortal Engines" is a bold departure from mass-market erotica. "The Color of the Moon" is even more remarkable. It is a historical tour-de-force, a horrifying ghost story, a bittersweet romance. It dares to ponder the essence of holiness, faith, love, and evil.
Set in feudal Japan, "The Color of the Moon" unfolds mostly through the eyes of Shoji, an itinerant Buddhist monk who is something of an innocent. Shoji wanders the countryside with his biwa, an archaic stringed instrument, singing epic tales of a vanquished Imperial dynasty. He is summoned at midnight to serenade a mysterious high-born Lady who ultimately seduces him. Her beauty and all-consuming desire overwhelm his determination to maintain his vows of chastity, even though he senses that she is not a normal human being. He tries to disentangle himself from the web of love and lust she has woven around him, but finds it difficult to believe that someone so passionate and so lonely could be a creature of evil.
The gruff and arrogant senior monk Ichinori provides a counterpoint to Shoji's earnest confusion. His attempts to exorcise the willful ghost unravel his self-confident virtue and ultimately drive him to despair.
I've read "The Color of the Moon" several times. Once is not enough to fully appreciate either the sensual detail or the thematic depth. This is the exact opposite of the consumable, forgettable stories currently marketed as "erotica". It deserves (dare I say it) the label of literature.
C. Garcia-Sanchez' work is arousing and challenging, but not easy. If you're seeking fairly mindless entertainment, sexy stories that go straight to the genitals while bypassing the soul, look elsewhere. If you are willing to dig deeper, to think and to feel and to appreciate the many-leveled complexity of sexual desire, I strongly recommend this book.