The Mammoth Book of International Erotica

ultra-conservative parents, she wore an armor of virginal modesty and reserve, against which his tender assaults bounded off without the slightest effect. He was quite dismayed at her lack of response to his advances. If he allowed his language to become even mildly daring or frivolous, she blushed and took flight. He liked to play the “wind-and-moon game” not only at night but also in broad daylight, for it seemed to him that his pleasure was very much increased by the possibility of looking at certain secret parts of the body. On several occasions he attempted, in the morning or afternoon, to insert a bold hand beneath her clothing and to strip off her undermost coverings. The reception was not what he had bargained for. She resisted vigorously and screamed as though threatened with rape. At night, to be sure, she permitted his embraces, but quite apathetically as though merely doing her duty. He had to stick to the stodgy ancestral method, and any attempt at more modern, more refined variations met with fierce opposition. When he attempted the “fetching fire behind the hill” position, she said it was perfectly disgusting and contrary to all the rules of husbandly behavior. When he tried the “making candles by dipping the wick in tallow” position, she protested that such goings-on were utterly nasty and vulgar. It took all his powers of persuasion even to make her prop up her thighs on his shoulders. When their pleasure approached a climax, not the tiniest little cry, not the slightest moan of happiness was to be heard from her. Even when he smothered her in tender little cries of “My heart, my liver,” or “My life, my everything,” she took no more interest than if she had been deaf and dumb. It was enough to drive him to despair. He began to make fun of her and to call her his “little saint.”

“Things can’t go on like this. I must find some way of educating her and ridding her of those awful moral inhibition – the best idea would be some stimulating reading matter.” So saying, he repaired to the booksellers’ quarter. There after a long search he procured a marvelously illustrated volume entitled Ch’un- t’ang, “The Vernal Palace.” It was a celebrated book on the art of love, written by no less a man than the Grand Secretary, Chao Tzu-ang. It included thirty-six pictures, clearly and artfully illustrating the thirty-six different “positions” of vernal dalliance, of which the poets of the T’ang period had sung. He brought the book home with him and handed it to the “little saint.” As they leafed through page after page, he whispered to her:

“You see that I haven’t been asking you to join in any monkey business of my own invention. These are all accepted forms of married love, practiced by our venerable ancestors. The text and pictures prove it.”

Unsuspectingly, Noble Scent took the volume and opened it. When she turned to the second page and read the big bold heading: Han-kung yi-chao, “traditional portraits from the imperial palace of the Han dynasty” (second century B.C. to second century A.D.), she thought to herself:

“There were many noble and virtuous beauties at the court of the ancient Han rulers – the book must contain portraits of them. Very well, let us see what the venerable ladies looked like.” And eagerly she turned another page. But now came a picture that made her start back in consternation: in the midst of an artificial rock garden a man and woman in rosy nakedness, most intimately intertwined. Blushing crimson for shame and indignation, she cried out:

“Foo! How disgusting! Where did you ever get such a thing? Why, it sullies and befouls the atmosphere of my chaste bedchamber.”

Whereupon she called her maid and ordered her to burn the horrid thing on the spot. But he restrained her.

“You can’t do that. The book is an ancient treasure, worth at least a hundred silver pieces. I borrowed it from a friend. If you wish to pay him a hundred silver pieces in damages, very well, burn it. If not, do me the favor of letting me keep it for two days until I have finished reading it; then I’ll return it to my friend.”

“But why do you have to read such a thing, that offends against all human morality and order?”

“I beg your pardon, if it were as offensive and immoral as all that, a famous painter would hardly have lent himself to illustrating it, and a publisher would hardly have been willing to defray the production costs and distribute the book. You are quite mistaken. Since the world was created, there has been nothing more natural and reasonable than the activities described in this book. That is why a master of the word joined forces with a master of color to fashion the material into a true work of art; that is why the publisher spared no costs and as you see brought the book out in a de luxe edition on expensive silk, and that is why the plates are preserved along with other literary treasures in the archives of the Han-lin Academy, in the Forest of Brush and Ink, so that future generations may draw knowledge and profit from it. Without such books love between the sexes would gradually lose all charm and ardor; husband and wife would bore one another to tears. Gone would be the pleasure of begetting children, dull indifference would take root. It is not only for my own edification that I borrowed the book, but wittingly and I think wisely for yours as well, in the hope that it would prepare you for motherhood, that your womb would be blessed and you would soon present me with a little boy or a little girl. Or do you really think that a young couple like us should espouse the ascetic ways of your ling-tsun, your ‘venerable lord,’ and condemn our youthful marriage to barrenness? Are you aware of my good intentions now? Was there anything to be indignant about?”

Noble Scent was not entirely convinced.

“I cannot quite believe that what the book represents is really compatible with morality and reason. If that were so, why did our forebears who created our social order not teach us to carry on openly, in broad daylight, before the eyes of strangers? Why do people do it like thieves in the night, shut away in their bedchambers? Doesn’t that prove that the whole thing must be wrong and forbidden?”

The Before Midnight Scholar replied with a hearty laugh.

“What a comical way of looking at things! But far be it from me to find fault with my niang- tzu, my dear little woman, on that account. It’s all the fault of the preposterous way your honorable father raised you, shutting you up in the house and cutting you off from the outside world, forbidding you to associate with young girls like yourself who could have enlightened you. Why, you’ve grown up like a hermit without the slightest knowledge of the world. Of course married couples conduct their business by day as well as night; everyone does. Just think for a moment; if it had never been done in the daylight with others looking on, how would an artist have found out about all the different positions shown in this book? How could he have depicted all these forms and variations of loving union so vividly that one look at his pictures is enough to put us into a fine state of excitement?”

“Yes, but what about my parents? Why didn’t they do it in the daytime?”

“I beg your pardon. How do you know they didn’t?”

“Why, I would surely have caught them at it. I am sixteen, after all, and all these years I never noticed a thing. Why, I never even heard a sound to suggest that…”

Again the Before Midnight Scholar had to laugh aloud:

“Ah, what a dear little silly you are! Such parental occupations are not intended for the eyes and ears of a child! But one of the maids is sure to have heard or seen a little something from time to time. Of course your parents would never have done anything within your sight or hearing; very wisely they did it behind closed doors, for fear that if a little girl like you were to notice anything, her mental health might be upset by all sorts of premature thoughts and daydreams.”

After a moment of silent reflection, Noble Scent said as though to herself:

“That’s true. I remember that they occasionally withdrew to their bedchamber in the daytime and bolted the door after them – can that be what they were doing? It’s possible. But in broad daylight! To see each other stark naked! How can it be? They must have felt so ashamed.”

“I beg your pardon. For lovers to see each other naked in broad daylight, why, that’s the whole charm of it; it gives ten times more pleasure than doing it in the dark. And that is true of all lovers – with two exceptions.”

“What are the two exceptions?”

“Either he is ugly and she is beautiful, or she is ugly and he is handsome: in those two cases dealings by daylight are not advisable.”

“Why?”

“Dealings between the sexes give full enjoyment only when both parties feel drawn to one another body and soul, as though by a primordial force, and long for physical union with every fiber of their being. Let us suppose that she is beautiful, that with her full, soft forms and her delicate, luminous, smooth skin she resembles a well- polished jewel. Drawing her close to him, her lover will strip off layer after layer of her garments, and the more he sees of her, the more his desire will increase; his member will stiffen of its own free will and stand up big and hard and strong. But then suppose that she looks toward her partner and discovers ugly features, misshapen