Αυτό είναι το χειρότερο σεξ που θα διαβάσεις στη λογοτεχνία

Λογοτεχνικά βραβεία υπάρχουν πολλά. Αρκετές χιλιάδες διαφορετικά από αυτά απονέμονται κάθε χρόνο σε βιβλία και συγγραφείς.

Από το Νόμπελ Λογοτεχνίας και το Man Booker Prize, μέχρι το Pulitzer Prize και το Women’s Prize for Fiction, αλλά κι εκείνα που αφορούν συγκεκριμένα είδη, όπως το Astrid Lindgren Memorial Award της παιδικής λογοτεχνίας και το Hugo Award της speculative λογοτεχνίας, τα λογοτεχνικά βραβεία αποτελούν τις υψηλότερες διακρίσεις που ονειρεύεται κάθε συγγραφέας.

Υπάρχει όμως κι ένα βραβείο που κανείς δε θέλει να κερδίσει. Το Bad Sex in Fiction Award κάνει αυτό ακριβώς που δηλώνει ο τίτλος του, βραβεύει δηλαδή τη χειρότερη περιγραφή σκηνής σεξ των βιβλίων μιας ολόκληρης χρονιάς. Χοντροκομμένα, προχειρογραμμένα και κακόγουστα αποσπάσματα που περιγράφουν σεξ έχουμε διαβάσει όλοι μας σε βιβλία και το Bad Sex in Fiction Award προσπαθεί κάθε χρόνο να ανακαλύψει και να βραβεύσει το σεξ των βιβλίων που ξεχωρίζει για την κακή του ποιότητα.

Το βραβείο ξεκίνησε το 1993 από το Literary Review, ένα από τα διασημότερα λογοτεχνικά περιοδικά της Βρετανίας. Μέχρι σήμερα αρκετά γνωστά ονόματα, όπως οι Philip Kerr, Tom Wolfe, Norman Mailer και Morrissey έχουν κερδίσει το βραβείο, ενώ ο John Updike έχει τιμηθεί πίσω στο 2008 με το Lifetime Achievement Award, την ύψιστη μέχρι τώρα τιμή που έχει απονείμει το Bad Sex in Fiction Award.

Όπως ίσως φαντάζεστε η συντριπτική πλειοψηφία των νικητών, αλλά και των υποψηφίων, είναι άντρες. Στα 25 χρόνια του βραβείου οι 23 νικητές ήταν άντρες. Φέτος όλοι οι υποψήφιοι, ανάμεσα στους οποίους βρέθηκε και ο Haruki Murakami, ήταν άντρες. Γενικά είμαστε πολύ καλύτεροι από τις γυναίκες στο να γράφουμε απαίσιες σκηνές σεξ, μπράβο μας.

Για να καταλάβετε όμως για τι πράγμα μιλάμε, παρακάτω συγκέντρωσα τα 12 αγαπημένα μου αποσπάσματα που κέρδισαν ή ήταν υποψήφια για το Bad Sex in Fiction Award στα 25 χρόνια του θεσμού.

Κρατηθείτε γερά και δέστε τις ζώνες σας, θα έχουμε αναταράξεις:

ΤΟ ΠΟΥΡΟ

1999: ‘Starcrossed’ του A.A. Gill

‘His tongue is long and hard and tastes of mint. We don’t say anything, but he pushes me to my knees in the middle of the shop. It’s difficult to undo his flies. I put my hand in. It’s hot and damp, and then, Christ; it’s amazing, huge. It just goes on and on, as thick as…’

‘As a magnum? A jeroboam? A methuselah? A bitter pump?’

‘A fucking salami. Shut up, John.’

***

‘…he takes his clothes off until he’s just wearing his boots. I hook my nails into his really taut bottom and he pumps and nearly chokes me.

‘How did he get his trousers off over his boots? I mean, does he take his boots off and put them back on again?’

‘Shut up. I pull my dress off and I’m naked. He reaches down and roughly grabs me between the legs. I can feel his long, bony finger slip inside me. His thumb slides into the crack of my bottom and lifts me like…’

‘A bowling ball? A six-pack?’

‘Like I was light as a feather.’

***

She got to his cock and stuck it between her teeth like a cigar.

ΤΟ ΓΟΥΟΚΜΑΝ

2000: ‘Kissing England’ του Sean Thomas

‘It is time, time … Now. Yes. She is so small and compact and yet she has all the necessary features … Shall I compare thee to a Sony Walkman, thou art more compact and more – She is his own Toshiba, his dinky little JVC, his sweet Aiwa … Aiwa, aiwa aiwa aiwa aiwa aiwa aiwa aiwa aiwa aiwa aiwaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh …’

Ο ΜΑΟ ΤΣΕ ΤΟΥΝΓΚ

2002: ‘Wild Ginger’ της Anchee Min

He leaned over and said, ‘Take off your shirt.’

‘No. Why?’

‘I hunger only for you.’

I began to laugh. ‘Go chew Mao quotations! Fill your stomach with them. Come on! Chairman Mao teaches us…’

‘“A thousand years is too long, seize the moment.”’ He grabbed me. ‘Chairman Mao also teaches us, “A revolution is an insurrection, an act of violence by which one class overthrows another.”

‘Chairman Mao again teaches us’ – I put down the buns and wrestled with him – ‘“The situation must change. It is the task of the people of the whole world to put an end to the aggression and oppression perpetrated by imperialism.”’

He went wild. ‘“If the US monopoly capitalist groups persist in pushing their policies of aggression and war, the day is bound to come when they will be hanged by the people of the whole world.”’ I could feel my body blooming. I was unable to continue the reciting. ‘Don’t you stop, Maple! Show your faith in Chairman Mao! Demonstrate your loyalty! Page one hundred fifty-six. “Speech at the Moscow Meeting of Communist and Workers’ Parties.” Come on now!’

‘“It is my opinion,”’ I began, ‘“that the international situation has now reached a new turning point.”’ I stopped, my thoughts suddenly scattered – the pleasure was too overwhelming.

‘Go on, Maple, go on. “There are two winds in the world today”’ – he caressed me, his hands cupping my breasts from behind – ‘“the East Wind and the West Wind. There is a Chinese saying, Either the East Wind prevails over the West Wind or the West Wind prevails over the East Wind.”’

We were breathless. He insisted we continue reciting. I tasted his sweat as I went on. ‘“It is characteristic of the situation today that the East Wind is prevailing over the West Wind. That is to say, the forces of socialism have become overwhelmingly superior to the forces of imperialism…”’

Our bodies came together again. . .

He groaned, ‘Oh! Chairman Mao!’

Η ΣΒΑΣΤΙΚΑ

2003: ‘Bunker 13’ του Aniruddha Bahal

She’s taking off her blouse. It’s on the floor. Her breasts are placards for the endomorphically endowed. In spite of yourself a soft whistle of air escapes you. She’s taking off her trousers now. They are a heap on the floor. Her panties are white and translucent. You can see the dark hair sticking to them inside. There’s a design as well. You gasp.

‘What’s that?’ you ask. You see a designer pussy. Hair razored and ordered in the shape of a swastika. The Aryan denominator…

As your hands roam her back, her breasts, and trace the swastika on her mound you start feeling like an ancient Aryan warlord yourself…

She sandwiches your nozzle between her tits, massaging it with a slow rhythm. A trailer to bookmark the events ahead. For now she has taken you in her lovely mouth. Your palms are holding her neck and thumbs are at her ears regulating the speed of her head as she swallows and then sucks up your machinery.

She is topping up your engine oil for the cross-country coming up. Your RPM is hitting a new high. To wait any longer would be to lose prime time…

She picks up a Bugatti’s momentum. You want her more at a Volkswagen’s steady trot. Squeeze the maximum mileage out of your gallon of gas. But she’s eating up the road with all cylinders blazing. You lift her out. You want to try different kinds of fusion.

ΠΟΛΥ ΑΒΟΛΟ

2005: ‘Shalimar the Clown’ του Salman Rushdie

“Let’s, you know, caress each other in five places and kiss in seven ways and make out in nine positions, but let’s not get carried away.” In reply, Boonyi pulled her phiran and shirt off over her head and stood before him naked except for the little pot of fire hanging low, below her belly, heating further what was already hot. “Don’t you treat me like a child,” she said in a throaty voice that proved she had been unsparing in her drug abuse. “You think I went to all this trouble just for a kiddie-style session of lick and suck?”.

Ο ΑΣΤΑΚΟΣ

2005: ‘Lobster’ του Guillaume Lecasble

She reached the staircase and climbed the first step but the cold was numbing her mind. She fainted, upright and motionless with seawater up to her belly. Lobster swam to her purple feet. Cut off the bloodless hand with his pincers, and climbed up the inside of the leg as far as the clenched knees. He was amazed at the pleasure he felt from being held in this way. His pincers slipped between the thighs, prising them gently apart. His feelers were just able to reach the satin of the panties. They fluttered, made the labia quiver. Under the shimmering material a hint of life was returning. Angelina’s thighs relaxed. Lobster pulled back his feelers. Tensed and released his tail. His strokes were fast and powerful. He was making headway. He sank himself into her warming muscles; his tail did not falter. He moved forward, a centimetre at a time. Yes! Suddenly he could see the fabric clearly, glistening, pearl-like.

ΑΦΟΣΙΩΜΕΝΑ ΑΔΕΡΦΙΑ

2008: ‘The Reserve’ του Russell Banks

Jordan Groves and Vanessa Von Heidenstamm did not notice the approaching darkness. They were still immersed in their lovemaking. It had begun slowly, tenderly, face-to-face, with long, lingering looks at each other, like devoted siblings at the start of a long absence taking their last leave of each other, gathering in all the details they had neglected to notice up to now. They removed their clothes, their own and each other’s, delicately, precisely, as if preparing to model for an artist, and once naked, seated side by side on the bed, they turned to face each other, and with their hands on each other’s bare shoulders, they kissed – sweetly, as if in relief and gratitude for having come to the peaceful end of a painfully protracted argument. And then they embraced and with their hands caressed each other’s breasts and backs and arms – her skin smooth and creamy and soft as fine silk, his alabaster white and tautly drawn over muscle and bone – and their separate bodies gradually lost their boundaries and merged into a third body, one that contained all their female and male differences and erased all their anatomical contrasts and inversions.

ΑΕΡΙΩΔΗ ΜΠΟΥΚΕΤΑ

2011: ‘Dead Europe’ του Christos Tsiolkas

I sensed her embarrassment, but even more I sensed the sweet, rich blood that was flowing out of her. It’s okay, I whispered… I was immersed in the slush of her moist meat… Her body stiffened but I forced her legs apart and pushed my face into her groin. The smell was overpowering. It was as if her cunt was a cellar filled with a heady store of wines and spirits, all emitting wafts of gaseous bouquets that recalled all the possible eruptions of the body. She smelt of farting and diarrhoea, shitting and pissing, burping, bile and vomit. I forced my tongue into this churning compost. Her blood was calling me. My tongue furiously worked the craters of her cunt and I felt the blood, coarse and thick, trickle onto my lips and into my mouth and onto my tongue and down my gut and I forced my lips over her clit and sucked on it till I felt I was drawing her into my very body and the blood kept flowing onto my lips and into my mouth and my guts and I rubbed my face across the hair and skin and meat of her and as I licked at her cunt and arse I opened my mouth wide and bit into her thigh and I did not hear her squeal for all I was aware of was the clean neat puncture and the blood that began to flow from it which fell onto my tongue and into my mouth and my gut, and her blood pumped through me and calmed the agonies in my belly and head and I knew I was alive; and laughing, drawing away from her I was aware that above me a body was heaving and I pushed my face back into her, all my fingers, my tongue, my chin, inside her: a bitter cool spray washed across my face. Her body convulsed, shuddered, trembled once more, and then fell to stillness. She had come.

ΘΕΕ ΜΟΥ

2011: ‘The Final Testament of The Holy Bible’ του James Frey

He said that if I wanted to see God, see God as he did, and in God’s true form, he could show me. He told me to close my eyes, so I did. He moved his hands onto me and moved his body a little more and he stopped talking to me and I could feel his breath on my neck and my cheek. It built inside of me. God built up inside of me. And the more he moved, the more it built. And his breath felt hot and smelled sweet. And he kept moving, real slow, and moving real deep inside, and it built until I saw it and felt it. It was love, and joy, and pleasure, and every part of my body sang some song I had never heard but was the prettiest, most beautiful song ever, and it was blinding and pure and my brain went the whitest white ever, and I saw infinity, forever and ever, I saw infinity, and even understood it, and understood everything else in the world, all the hate and rage and death and passion and jealousy and murder, and none of them even mattered. I felt one hundred percent secure. I felt nothing bad. I saw the past and future. It was the greatest second of my life. Really the greatest, and I knew in that one second I was experiencing God. The real God. The true God. The eternal God. The God that can’t be in a book or in a church or on a Sunday TV show or on a cross or a star. The God that can’t be explained or described or written about or taught or preached. The God that can’t be forced upon people or used to damn them. And I loved that God, that perfect amazing unbelievable true God. And I knew that none of the other Gods meant anything.

ΑΓΝΟΣ ΤΡΟΜΟΣ

2013: ‘My Education’ της Susan Choi

Until now, my orgasms had been deep and ponderous things; slow to yield to excavation; self-annihilating when they finally did, so that in their wake I felt voided and calm, every yen neutralised, and gazed on whoever had managed the work with benign noninterest. Never had there been this tormenting, self-heightening pleasure, like a hail of hot stones, and yet she seemed to recognise just what had happened, so that before I had even stopped keening she bore down again. She made me come so many times that afternoon that had I been somewhat older, I might have dropped dead. Had I been a doll, she might have twisted off each of my limbs, and sucked the knobs until they glistened, and drilled her tongue into each of the holes.

Ο MORRISSEY

2015: ‘List of the Lost’ του 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.

Ο ΒΟΑΣ

2018: ‘Scoundrels: The Hunt for Hansclapp’ των Major Victor Cornwall και Major Arthur St John Trevelyan

“Empty my tanks,” I’d begged breathlessly, as once more she began drawing me deep inside her pleasure cave. Her vaginal ratchet moved in concertina-like waves, slowly chugging my organ as a boa constrictor swallows its prey. Soon I was locked in, balls deep, ready to be ground down by the enamelled pepper mill within her.

ΔΙΑΒΑΣΕ ΑΚΟΜΗ: