The hotly publicised Bad sex in fiction awards return this winter and I for one have sorely missed its moist nipples, whimpering grunts and so forth. Good sex is, of course, subjective. Good sex in literature even more so. What can make one person cringe can make another, well, never mind. I’ve often wondered how the literary novelists get genuine intimacy on to the page. What alchemy goes into conjuring a tender coming-of-age experience or a wildly passionate, perhaps even distasteful, moment?
The distinction between “good” and “humorous” sex became clear to me when writing my satirical novel of scandalous goings-on in Westminster, Whips. I saved my silly scenes about vibrating eggs until after 6pm when a stiff martini could help. We all have our kinks, but I’m pretty sure “naughty Tory MP” is as niche as it gets. As much as I tried to bring the reader in on the joke rather than into the bedroom, I fear I might make the shortlist of the awards this year simply on principle.
So how do the masters of the highbrow write such powerful, erotic sex scenes? I’ve put together an eclectic list of some old friends and recent reads to show how incredibly varied good sex in fiction can be.
1. A Sport and a Pastime by James Salter
A masterpiece of atmosphere – as good on France as on sex. The unnamed narrator half watches, half fantasises an affair between Phillip Dean, a travelling young American, and Anne-Marie, a local girl, in Burgundy. The writing gives a firm edge to a sophisticated exploration of the line between reality and imagination. While it is Anne-Marie the narrator fixates on, the lithe, confident Dean is perhaps his deeper obsession. The combination of loneliness and intimacy in their intense relationship, through the voyeur’s eye, and the ultimate end of the affair, are beautifully told.
2. The Line of Beauty by Alan Hollinghurst
If Salter wrote well about France, Hollinghurst writes exceptionally about London: the liaisons in the early stages of the novel between Nick Guest, the rather Charles Ryderish protagonist, and his lover Leo in a sultry Notting Hill in the 1980s combine the crackle of the hot city with tender, sexy writing about their illicit hook-ups. Set at the start of the HIV/Aids crisis, while the book is deeply preoccupied with sex, it is much more than that. These relationships matter, these people matter. Little of that was felt to be true in the society in which the book is set.
3. Normal People by Sally Rooney
The whole novel is so painfully reminiscent of my own teenage yearnings that I felt breathless reading it. Many of us have experienced having someone in our lives with whom there is unresolved business and Normal People carries this theme beautifully, along with a uniquely teenage take on the pressures of popularity, class and wealth, which change dramatically when Marianne and Connell leave school for university. Not every encounter is erotic exactly, but each one is full of meaning and sincerity. Writing sex is one thing, but Rooney has cracked what we all really crave – intimacy.
4. Lady Chatterley’s Lover by DH Lawrence
Lady Chatterley’s famous affair with a gamekeeper, embedded in the beauty of nature, the limits of class and the shadow of the first world war – ever-present in her husband’s injury – is, frankly, an absolute steamfest. The sex scenes, which are somehow both poetic (“quivering”, “rippling”) and frank (“turgid”), are wild for 1928 – and explain why the book remained banned for so long. They and are still pretty wild for today. I particularly love Lawrence’s understanding that women too need fulfilment for the body and not just the mind.
5. Seven Days in June by Tia Williams
We’ve all wondered about how differently a relationship might have gone if we could have had a second crack at it. Seven Days in June sees Eva and Shane, both celebrated writers, reconnect 15 years after a whirlwind week as troubled teenagers. It’s a story of love and loss, happiness and pain and the three key characters – Eva, Shane and Audre (Eva’s daughter) – are all fascinating. There are a handful of sex scenes but the real skill Williams has is in drawing the tension between Eva and Shane, which crackles off the page.
6. Secretary by Mary Gaitskill
Most people I know have seen the 2002 film, but not read the book. The film is marvellous but a mostly sugar-coated version of the original. The story is about a very young woman who takes a job at a lawyer’s office, where she is punished for typing mistakes with sexual domination, including spankings. Debby finds she is aroused by this kind of humiliation, including masturbating in private after being ejaculated on. Sad and funny and absolutely fascinating but, perhaps because it is a short story, you are left to draw in a lot about the characters yourself.
7. Birdsong by Sebastian Faulks
This seems a strange choice but I’ve just returned from exploring the first world war trenches with my brother and I was drawn back to this magnificent book. Despite being set in the 1910s and 1970s, both long before I was born, the sense of nostalgia, trauma and regret is crushingly familiar. The sex, which is beautifully captured in the 2012 TV adaptation featuring Eddie Redmayne and Clemence Poesy, is hot and feels delightfully at odds with the prudishness you might expect.
8. Riders by Jilly Cooper
The first of many brilliant Rutshire Chronicles that will dependably cheer you up during a low patch. The story follows the rivalry – in love and on horseback – between Rupert Campbell-Black, the alpha male capable of cruelty (generally to his wife) and kindness (generally to animals) and Jake Lovell, the taciturn, ultra-talented showjumper. Cooper has a great ability to write about happiness, pleasure and desire, in all their various forms. The sex scenes are (one bum note in a scene in Kenya aside) entertaining and jolly, written with a keen sense of the comic potential, as well as the sexiness, of horny people.
9. Forever by Judy Blume
As this brilliant piece for the Guardian explained, this book feels so very modern and ought to be essential reading for everyone. I read it aged about 13 and longed, in due course, to deal with my own virginity – a subject Blume handles perfectly. There is plenty in Forever for a young person to learn, practically speaking. It’s like sex in literature with training wheels. The ideas of naming genitals (hello to the Ralphs out there) and “what to do” with a penis were genuine revelations to me and the book felt like a kind way to learn about it.
10. Warming Her Pearls by Carol Ann Duffy
I was lucky enough to study Duffy’s poetry at school, led by a brilliant teacher who unflinchingly pointed out the artful allusions to sex throughout. Warming Her Pearls centres on the unrequited (or inadmissible) love of a Victorian servant for her mistress, and their upstairs/downstairs connection through a pearl necklace worn by the servant so it is warm for the evening. There is longing – “All night I feel their absence and I burn” – and the odd stab of lust – “In her looking-glass my red lips part as though I want to speak” – a phrase that took me a long time to fully comprehend.
