Offering Extraordinary Books by Talented Authors TM
Home
Piers Anthony
Pornucopia
Pornucopia Review
PORNUCOPIA: BEHOLD THE POWER OF CHEESE!
By David McGrath
Review Rating: "R"
Warning: This review contains adult course language and sexual content.
Porn! Hot, sticky, drippin' porn! Sweaty porn! Lustful porn!
But more on that, later.
Around the end of October 2002, I received an e-mail from a man named Daniel J. Reitz Sr.; he complimented me on a book review I had done 'way back in the halcyon days of 1996. (The book was Piers Anthony's Volk, for the record.)
He also mentioned that he had just started a new publishing company — Mundania Press, LLC. (It's this company's website you're reading this review on, incidentally.) He asked if I'd like to review Piers's 'new' book. After a moment's thought, I said yes. At the very least, I'd end up with something collectible.
The book, although hard to find, isn't exactly 'new.' It's been around since 1989. Its title is, of course, Pornucopia.
It arrived around mid-December. The first thing that struck me was the cover art. On it is portrayed a woman kneeling on a beach. My first thought upon seeing her was that she must have a hard time sleeping. She had rigid bat-like wings in back that curved around to the sides, stopping her from lying in either of those positions. As for her front, she — y'know, maybe I ought to be reviewing the text, instead.
Porn. Is Pornucopia porn, especially considering its title?
No; it's erotica. And rather fun erotica, at that. Porn is just body parts fitting into one another; erotica has a plot.
Pornucopia takes place in a world much like ours, but which is slightly more advanced in technology, and has magical beings; if I had to compare it to another of Piers's works, I'd choose his Incarnations of Immortality series — albeit the seamier side of same.
Its protagonist, Prior Gross — a name that seems more fitting for a financial statement than an erotic novel until its ironic etymology is explained — starts his adventure on a beach.
He's got an erection, it seems — and it's one that just won't go away. (Already, it's clear that this is no Xanth novel, even if its title is a pun; although that series has dipped into naughtiness on occasion — think panties — it's always playful and suggestive; Pornucopia quite merrily gets into all those sticky details.)
Fortunately, he's saved from this predicament by a strange woman — the aforementioned cover figure, in fact. After a bit of talking and a bit of touching, they go at it as passionately as a couple on a public beach can — which is to say, not very.
Her disappointment quickly becomes apparent, however, when she discovers that the supposedly priapic Prior comes up a bit short — literally. He's 3.97" erect, to be precise. (That's Pornucopia's original title, incidentally — 3.97 Erect. At first blush, I preferred that title — but now that I've read the novel, I realize the newer one fits better.)
She has surprises of her own, however. She's a succubus — and an incubus, too. And prior to Prior, she contracted gonorrhea. But — and here's why the novel is erotica instead of porn — having sex with him has cured it. How? The fatty secretions of the sebaceous glands of his foreskin. Or, to put it more plainly, his smegma. The word between smeary and smell in the dictionary.
No, really. Come back here. I'm serious.
Things aren't all beer and skittles for Prior. When he goes to a doctor on the urgings of the unnamed night spirit, she (Tantamount Emdee; Piers is known for his unusual names and this novel is no exception) discovers that his smegma can indeed cure not only gonorrhea but all VD — and breaks the Hippocratic Oath in the worst way by Bobbiting his penis. Snip; Prior is now 3.97 millimeters if-he-could-get-erect.
When he understandably asks for Prior Jr. back, he's instead sent off to Tantamount's sister, Oubliette; she gives him a cybernetic implant, and several penis analogues.
And the novel has hardly started! It only gets wilder from there. Prior finds himself going up the side of a mountain, and coming down the side of several beings, mythical and otherwise.
What becomes of his penis, and its magical cheese? Well, that would be telling; read the danged thing yourself.
And so the question comes — why should you read it — and pay for it — when I got my copy for the words you're reading? Well.
Let me say that the book isn't for everyone; that it has an eighteen-and-above rating is evidence of that.
It's also not for those with parochial attitudes; sex is dealt with very forthrightly and very explicitly. If that's not your thing, you'd best move on to something more tame; shoo! (There's another book you might want to give a pass to, in that case. It involves a guy having sex with his daughters, a king committing adultery, and some guy who walks on water, but I forget what its title is at the moment. I hear it's a best-seller.)
But enough negatives. You should read it because it's fun, damn it!
Unlike, say, Volk, there's no overriding social statement.
Pornucopia's about a guy who has lots of sex, and might just save the world with his dickcheese.
Most of the major sexual interests are described during the course of Prior's adventures. Straight sex (of all three kinds — at one point, all at once), homosexual sex (ditto, 'though Prior doesn't take nearly as well as he gives), bisexuality, zoophilia, dominance and submission, urophilia, coprophilia — and the list goes on and on. About the only -philia that Prior doesn't participate in is pedophilia — but even that is touched upon, obliquely.
As I said, though, it's not all interlocking gonads; there's a plot to it. While it doesn't approach the complexity of a Philip K. Dick novel — another SFnal author who (along with Robert Silverberg, Samuel R. Delany, and John Varley, my favorite author, inter many alia) has dabbled in the field of erotic literature — it's still an internally consistent romp between this world and others.
Not to say that it isn't perfect. The introduction of the aforementioned mountain seems rather jarring; even though Prior returns to his usual randy self after a chapter, it seems out of place. The inevitable Author's Note (new to this version of the book) explains why; Piers dropped the idea in because he needed to move the story in a new direction.
There were also a few scenes I found distasteful — but not so much so that I stopped reading; I get the sense that Piers was daring himself and the reader. Having one's boundaries tugged on is a good thing.
While I'm on the subject, there's a related matter that I should touch upon, 'cause I'm sure it'll come up; it has before. Those of you who have read Piers's Firefly will probably recall its five-year-old character Nymph, who has repeated sex with a man in as consensual a manner as such a young girl can. Does this mean that Piers wants to copulate with preteens, or advocates doing so?
Fuck no!
He's a writer. He writes. His interests (women with long dark hair and shapely curves, from what I gather) and his characters' interests should be — and are — completely separate. He doesn't have centaurs prancing about in his backyard; why should what characters do behind closed doors (and open doors, and outdoors...) be seen in any different light? If he writes such things, it's because it works for the story. And in this one it does, for the most part.
From what I've read, if it sells well enough, Prior will appear in a sequel, The Magic Fart; in it, Prior will save his perfect mate from evil demons, and fight battles using the aforementioned fart, in a place that greet each other by passing gas. I don't know about that — but if Piers can pull it off as well as he did Pornucopia, it just might be worth reading. If I may suggest to Piers, though — change the title! He might take a page from Xanth and call it The Faux Pass ...
But back to this book. In conclusion, buy it, and be titillated — but don't come just for the sex. There's a plot to be had, too. And lots of fun.
This review is Copyright 2002 David McGrath. This review may not be reproduced in whole or in part, by mimeograph or photograph or telegraph or polygraph or phonograph or chromatograph or any other means. The Berne Convention won't let ya. But I will, if you ask nicely.
Permission to post review on Mundania Press' website in its entirety has been graciously granted by David McGrath.
|