Steamy!

Lady Chatterley's Lover, by D. H. Lawrence. It didn't take long to see why this book was banned for years for obscenity. I'm not saying that the censors were correct; I'm just noting that it is more explicit that what one usually finds in classic literature. On the other hand, the cynic might question whether it was the explicit sexual references or the attack on the class system that lead to its banning?

Either way, the book is beautifully written with an intriguing premise: sex and sensuality as a form of life, not constrained by class or the mores of society. Lady Constance Chatterley is married to a man who is wealthy but paralyzed physically and emotionally. Given a choice of living with Clifford, a marriage that would stretch years into the future, living among other rich people in a coal mining villiage, or Oliver Mellors, her husband's gamekeeper, she makes her choice. It is rather surprising when she makes it.

It is refreshing to read a book where the heroine is intelligent and self-aware and not afraid to admit that she enjoys sex. She doesn' thave to have an "awakening" but rather she knows heerself and it's only a matter of finding it. In fact, rather than the sexless creatures that are usually portrayed, Oliver and Connie seem closer to real people in the development of their relationship.

Reading (and really enjoying): The Assistant by Bernard Malamud.

Listening to (and not particularly enjoying): Atlas Shrugged. When I've finished, will I be a convert, or will I still think it's repetitive and full of characters that all fall into one of two characters: either remarkably competent and extravagantly rich or foolishly incompetent and needy. Black and white. An apologist for greedy rich people. But I'm getting ahead of myself.