This is my first time to read erotica, but because I pretty much have a good idea what to expect, I wasn't at all shocked, surprised, nor repulsed. As I figured, the only way to appreciate erotic literature such as this is to keep an open mind.
I would like to report that I did exactly that, in the first stories. Towards the end, however, I could not also help but become cynical and/or sarcastic. After all, how much sex can you read about and let your mind absorb before your head actually, truly aches and you declare you've finally had enough?
Little Birds is a compilation of short stories of erotica. These are stories about varying degrees and classes of sexual deviancy and exhaustive descriptions of all manner of copulation. There's a story about an exhibitionist, a pig-like creature with a snout that finds its way between women's legs, orgies, homosexuality, even incest (the one that I couldn't stomach), and more sex. Sex on the sand, sex in a public place, sex in the forest, sex just about everywhere. Cunnilingus and fellatio are described in clear, vivid detail, such that the author's words leave nothing to the reader's imagination.
The stories I couldn't forget are those with endings that I found either funny or weird. The first story, entitled Little Birds, was about this man who lures several young girls to his apartment near their school by purchasing and displaying birds on cages in his terrace. The man was an exhibitionist, and something funny (at least, to me it is) happens near the end. :) And the one I found weird was about the husband who couldn't make love to his own wife, preferring to do it with his colored servants instead. Yes, the husband would actually caress and touch and make foreplay with his wife, but he couldn't just seem to be able to do it with her. The wife is heartbroken especially since, every night, she would hear her husband and one of the colored maids getting it on somewhere nearby. Finally, when the wife makes a purchase of this particular herb, the mystery is solved. Oh, had the wife only known...! :)
In Anais Nin's foreword, she narrated that she started writing erotic literature out of necessity, creating the stories from an empty stomach. According to her, she became the "madame" of a certain group of writers who lived and got by through what she termed "literary prostitution". When I read this, I realized that the value of these erotic literature was the fact that it put food on their table, at the time. And if it stirred people's sexual desires, well, that would have been a mere incident now, wouldn't it? :)