Raw. Painfully honest. Unflinching. Unbearably beautiful. I devoured The Bride Stripped Bare by Nikki Gemmell in one day.
Since this is my first foray into erotic fiction, I had very little idea of what to expect. Lots of "sexy sex" I imagined. But The Bride Stripped Bare absolutely floored me from the very beginning. Sexual descriptions aside, which were not cover to cover as I had preconceived, The Bride Stripped Bare had every element I desire in any novel:
Literary writing of high caliber - The Bride Stripped Bare is written in a very tricky, unusual second person point of view, present tense. As a reader I'm so used to the first person device which instantly places me in the main character's mind; however, this perspective achieved the same but in a more immediate, intimate way. By the constant "you," I actually felt that I inhabited the nameless character: The "good wife"/"good daughter"/"good friend" who, after learning a devastating secret, embarks upon sexual discovery which she chronicles in her diary.
"You have a book given to you by your grandfather that's a delicious catalog of unseemly thoughts.
"That a wife should take another man if her husband is disappointing in the sack.
"That a woman's badness is better than a man's goodness.
"That women are more valiant than men.
"That Adam was more sinful than Eve.
It was written anonymously in 1603. It's scarcely bigger than the palm of your hand. The paper is made of rag, not wood pulp, and the pages crackle with brittleness as they're turned. You love that sound, it's like the first lickings of a flame taking hold...It smells of confinement and secret things."
My copy of The Bride Stripped Bare is stuffed with bookmarks because I found so many remarkable passages ranging from visceral, to stunning, provocative, or just simply profound.
Profundity because it's not merely about sex or sexual acts but comments truthfully, without romanticism, about love, betrayal, friendship, transgression, marriage, parental relationships, even motherhood. Every woman who reads this will gasp, not so much with surprise, but with repeated affirmation. Gemmell wrote what women secretly feel, what they tell themselves, what they hide and what they desire.
"An emptiness rules at its core, a rottenness, a silence when one of you retires to bed without saying goodnight, when you eat together without conversation, when the phone's passed wordlessly to the other. An emptiness when every night you lie in the double bed, restlessly awake, astounded at how closely hate can nudge against love, can wind around it sinuously like a cat. An emptiness when you realize that the loneliest you've ever been is within a marriage, as a wife."
Despite the fact that the nameless main character embodies the experiences and emotions of most women, and the other characters could stand in for archetypes: the typical husband, the close friend, the mother - all have rich, detailed specificity to them. They have complexity and nuance which ring true.
The plot has a recognizable trajectory, chronicling love from its honeymoon stage, to comfortable couplehood, then its disillusionment, and resurrection, again mirroring what most couples go through. Within this framework, the nameless character loses and finds herself - until the final scene in which the reader is left pondering what really happened. Did she? Didn't she? It's literally a cliffhanger and that's all I will say about that.
And now to the good part. The sex is good, yo. As I read The Bride Stripped Bare I found myself saying "Oh my god." "What?" "Oh" out loud. As I stated above, the novel isn't sex from cover to cover. It progresses from chaste "down there" to bolder, more explicit, then right out climactic aria of erotic fantasies. Some of it is authentically mundane. Some repulsive and shocking. Some educational. All of it is riveting.
I'll leave you to discover the graphic passages for yourself. For now this:
"What you love:
"The arch of the foot, its bones, rake-splayed. Wide, blunt, clean fingernails. Michelangelo wrists. Cleanliness. The nape of your neck nuzzled. Your eyelids kissed. Burrowing deep under the blankets. Clothes to be drawn off slowly in exquisite anticipation. Cold, smooth walls you are rammed against. The sound of a lover's breath close to your ear. Your hair pulled back when he's inside. Your name spoken aloud just before he comes. Connecting, a holiness fluttering within you both. Seduction that's slow, intriguing, unique, by flattery, extravagant gestures, text: poem scraps on napkins, filthy e-mails that should never be sent, love letters scrawled on Underground passes, a line composed in lipstick on your back as you sleep, written backward, to be read in the mirror; oh yes, all that."