I know too that you are among those girls who have been to Roissy, and I imagine you’ll be going back again. In principle, the ring you’re wearing gives me the right to do with you what I will, as it does to all those men who know its meaning.
But beyond its merits as a literary work, its merits or limits as pornography, there lies the paradox that this incendiary book was written by a woman who wore little make-up and no jewellery, who dressed with quiet elegance, who lived out a polite, bluestocking existence in a small flat with her parents and son. Beneath this unlikely exterior raged terrible passions. In the end, the most instructive aspect of the book is that it demonstrates the demoniac nature of sexuality in any or all of us. This quiet, learned woman understood the power of sex. She knew that desire can ignite compulsions to commit sudden, arbitrary violence and induce a yearning for voluptuous, annihilating death.
If you’re really interested in the darker side of sex and the darker aspects of the nature of women, you’ll enjoy the book. Interestingly, though the book is full of sexual torture, the worst and most violent torture is committed by women (to women).
That the female of the species was as cruel as, and more Implacable than the male, O had never doubted for a minute.