Kiss me or kill me?

Yesterday, Rachel raised a very interesting point that caught my attention. Why is it okay to portray the most horrid and gruesome side of human nature in all things artistic, but the most beautiful thing in the world is apparently taboo? How come when I turn on TV I can find "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre" playing on several stations, but anything with "Nudity and Adult Situations" is relegated to late night viewing? Why - to condense the question - is bloodshed okay and lovemaking out of bounds?

Taking this into the world of novels - why is Agatha Christie considered a classic by many, yet Anais Nin considered porn by even more? Exactly who is it that said "Sure, go ahead. Slice his dick off. Just don't touch it lovingly." And even more importantly, WHY did they say it?

It's something I've never quite understood. I do know that every living organism on the face of our planet has two goals - to survive and to reproduce. To survive, occasionally it must kill. And to reproduce - yep...it's gotta have some sort of sexual interaction. For humans, one is pleasant, the other fatal. So where did the notion come from that the pleasant one is "dirty" and the fatal one "acceptable"?

I have a theory about all this. It goes back a very long time, all the way back to when our species was gaining sentience. (Sorry creationists. You might want to skip this discussion.) Back then, early man watched the females growing large with child. Watched them give birth in a process which was bloody, painful and completely miraculous. And got totally scared out of their wits. That fear of women and their apparently indescribable abilities became lodged in the male psyche. After all, in the immortal words of South Park's Mr. Garrity - "how the hell can you trust something that bleeds for five days a month and doesn't die?"

Several early civilizations were pretty gender-equal. The Sumerians are a good example. Women could own land and divorce if they were so inclined. But it didn't take long for men to begin suppressing that notion. No way were they going to permit these scary creatures that kind of power. No, let's tell them how precious they are and how we're going to protect them. And then along came organized religion to lock down the process.

That was back then. Now? Sexuality has become a matter of whispers, innuendos and dirty jokes. The human body is still regarded as "naughty" and those who display it as "immoral". Sex is taught to be something done for procreation, not recreation. We hand out weapons with less concern than we hand out condoms. Yes, that fear of the entire sexual experience is still with us, even though it's metamorphosed into the twenty first century version.

"Dexter" is a serial killer with a series on network television - edited, but there nonetheless. "Criminal Minds" doesn't hold back on the bloodletting. VERY occasionally, one or two bedroom scenes sneak in. But where does one go for the no-holds-barred sex? Cable networks...FX... "Nip/Tuck" and "Rescue Me". After ten o'clock of course.

And when it comes to erotic romance novels - well hell. We're sluts, "prostituting our integrity" according to one writer. (Who doesn't apparently sell well in her genre.) No matter the hours of research we put in, the background we've acquired in our chosen field or the popularity of our titles. We're tramps, whores, loose women with looser morals in our professional AND private lives, corrupting the innocent minds of our readers. And teaching them - what??? That sex is wonderful? That two naked people can share something beyond fabulous? That love encompasses more than hand-holding at sunset?

I refuse to even make the effort to defend what I write any more. I will staunchly defend my ability TO write, but not WHAT. I will not bow down before that moralistically unreal notion which says sex is dirty, but I will change the channel when something or someone gets dismembered. I will try to remember that the "Moral Majority" is NEITHER moral nor a majority. And I will ignore those petty enough to jab sharp sticks of jealousy into my chosen literary genre. Writing good sex is as complex and challenging as writing a good murder. I've done both and hope to do so again. If that gets your knickers in a twist, then tough nookies. Go watch the "Texas Chainsaw Massacre".

I'm gonna find myself something that says LOVE is what it's all about.