Ex hibition

Erotiske noveller på engelsk

… This is nauseating. Here I am, sitting in a cafe in broad daylight on a Sunday afternoon, in honour of my dear, departed husbond, and I get a breast stuck right in my face. A breast with a repulsive piece of jewelry on it. How can such a respectable looking lady stand there and actually do such a thing? It must have hurt to have it done, who could have done it? Her lover? With or withour her consent? Could it have been her own idea? Someone should call the police …
Voyeur, Ex hibition
… The darkness inside her exploded into light. While the colours slowly drifted down and landed on her very core, she realized that the feeling of a thousand hands was not simply a miracle. Sam had awaken behind her in the huge water-bed.
She glanced at Harry’s sweaty face. Had he noticed? He slid out of her now, a little worm that left warm liquids between her buttocks.
Anger and panic took hold of her. She wanted to push Sam away and opened her mouth to say something, when a pleading hand covered her lips. Please let me, it said. Just this once. Just tonight.
How often did Sam touch anyone? Did he have anyone at all to go to bed with – or did he hug his pillow as she did herself, night after night? Harry put a sleepy arm around her. Good heavens, if she could make old Sam happy …
Green eyes, Ex hibition
… I am an elephant. With no clothes on I am an old wrinkled elephant. Without the grace that most elephants possess, I’m afraid. […] But even elephants deserve a good time once in a while. Gerda and I know that. I’m not saying Gerda looks like an elephant. With her long neck and nervous hands she’s more of an ostrich. We have our regular day for going to the baths.
The baths are full of bodies. Full of stories …
Steam, Ex hibition

Kritikken skrev …

Jens Andersen, Berlingske Tidende, 10. august 1997:

Tidens danske prosa lider af berøringsangst for erotik, der enten er fraværende, gjort til blød porno, skjult bag ironi eller forvrænget i pervers vold.
Det er fornemmelsen, man meget ofte sidder tilbage med, når man har læst endnu et tilskud til tidens danske prosa, der lider af berøringsangst. Hvis ikke erotikken er fuldstændig fraværende, er den gjort til blød porno eller skjult bag ironi, eller forvrænget i perversioner og voldsudpenslinger, hvor det åbenbart er meget nemmere at forholde sig sprogligt til menneskekroppen.
Her kender visse forfatteres ordforråd slet ingen grænser, mens de konfronteret med det erotiske blokerer totalt. Forfatteren Bente Clod, der giver skrivekurser i Erotica (Kunsten at ægge og fængsle læseren erotisk) og netop nu er aktuel med syv erotiske fortællinger på engelsk, Ex hibition fra forlaget Stokrose, udtaler i den anledning, at mange skandinaviske forfattere viger tilbage for udfordringen og sætter punktum ved soveværelsedøren: så må læseren selv tænke sig til resten.
Jo, i visse henseender får vi alt, alt for lidt i nyere dansk litteratur. Måske den skulle på weekendkursus hos Bente Clod og få renset sproget, så det igen bliver muligt i litteraturen at sige jeg elsker dig (og det der er frækkere og vildere) uden at det lyder som en dum vittighed.

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