If you thought the ‘Mile High Club’ fantasy was the swansong of Sunny Leone’s hand at erotica, you couldn’t be more wrong. For those who weren’t stuck between a rock and a hard place last night – read: affection for Sunny (as I feel) and utter confusion at the literature she’d just published, here’s a quick refresher.
Sunny Leone is the author of a new book on erotica, called Sweet Dreams – and the
first chapter was released the night of April 22, called Seat 7E. The
second one, entitled Dancer released tonight, the 23rd.
At the outset, it must be said – Sunny’s heart is in the right place. The chapter wants to stay true to its genre (erotica) and in terms of salacious language and generous double entendres, it succeeds. Where erotica is the matter of discussion, Sunny is spot on with her descriptions of ‘passionate thrusts’ and ‘ample breasts’. Where the problem lies, however, is in the screenplay – to borrow an old Bollywood problem.
The chapter itself prefaces a rather Bollywood-esque problem if you will – featuring an NRI in New York, much too busy to visit home, much too busy to have a real conversation, much too busy to have a relationship... you get the drift. What he does have time for, however, is a steady stream of nights-in with exotic dancers picked up at a bar called ‘The Spot’. (Double entendres hitting you yet?)
And then one night, he meets Vivica – the latest hip-swayer and thigh-sashayer on the block – who is, of course, Indian. Leone describes her thus:
Then suddenly this exotic, dark-skinned beauty with long, silky hair and large, brown eyes stood before us. Her body was decorated with little crystals, and she was wearing a sheer sari that barely covered her private parts. I’d never seen a sari draped like this back home.
There was barely any material to go around Vivica’s body, and her right breast was partially exposed, giving us a tantalizing glimpse of its delicious roundness. The outfit had a slit that ran all the way up to her waist, with nothing but a thin layer of sheer covering her firm leg. Her hands, neck and ears were covered in sparkling diamonds and gold – this was a treasure like none of us had seen before.
The story confuses itself forthwith between erotica and good ol’ Hindi cinema, when Leone has her protagonist take this ‘exotic dancer’ home – where the duo bond over (but of course) Hindi movie music. The rest of the trajectory isn’t hard to figure out.
Here’s the thing about Dancer. You can appreciate its attempts at tried-and-tested erotic clichés (the breasts, the thighs, the thrusts)... Or you can sigh a little at the predictability of the screenplay (we’re going to go Bollywood-esque too) and hope for a better chapter when you turn the page...
There’s promise yet.
Ms Leone, you certainly know sex-centered literature. It’s an abysmally underused space by women – and we’re happy you’re reclaiming it. But we’d love an equally (intellectually) stimulating chapter, please.
(You can read Dancer and the remaining stories in Sweet Dreams on the Juggernaut app for Android phones.)
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