Welcome statement


Parting Words from Moristotle (07/31/2023)
tells how to access our archives
of art, poems, stories, serials, travelogues,
essays, reviews, interviews, correspondence….

Tuesday, January 25, 2022

Goines On: A red marketing plan

Click image for more vignettes*
Goines’ friend Red asked him to read the novel he had just finished drafting. Red was concerned about the fact that both his wife and his and Goines’ mutual friend Pavel had read the draft and both of them thought Red should exclude the sex scenes – too risqué. But Red himself felt that the sex scenes were necessary to the story, so he wanted Goines’ opinion. Goines said sure, he’d read it, why not? Email it to him.
    But he was surprised that Pavel recommended removing the scenes, because Pavel liked to joke and talk about the great sex he had had, and was still having – he was some years younger than Red and Goines.
    Goines soon discovered, in Chapter 2, that the word “risqué” hardly covered it. The sex scenes were quite explicit. Goines was of course no stranger to sex scenes, not only from having read such classics as Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita, D.H. Lawrence’s Lady Chatterly’s Lover, and Grace Metalious’ Peyton Place, but also from watching films and TV series with Mrs. Goines, a significant percentage of which included scenes depicting characters (if not the actors) having sex. Sex was definitely in.
    But almost never as graphically explicit as in Red’s novel. And Goines had barely begun to read it. There were over 30 more chapters. And it was hard not to be sexually aroused reading some of what little he had already read. Reading more might be going to be an experience, something far surpassing anything in Nabokov, Lawrence, or Metalious.
     But why fight the arousal? That was silly. Being aroused felt very good, and Goines wouldn’t be reading Red’s sex scenes in public.
    Goines mentioned to Red in an email thread that included Pavel that he was being aroused by his reading. The three friends had been discussing the recent snow storms each of their three towns had experienced, and Goines said he wasn’t going to risk hurting himself by shoveling snow. Red said that was wise, because shoveling snow caused a significant increase in heart attacks. Pavel agreed that shoveling snow was a physically demanding and often lethal activity. But it helped if you almost constantly thought about sex, because thinking about sex was like a moderate cardio workout that keeps the revs up and the blood flowing.
    Goines couldn’t tell whether Pavel was serious, though, because he also said it would keep “the bs piling deeper and deeper.” But even Pavel occasionally flubbed up, so Goines decided that the wording was probably a typo for the snow piling deeper (even as you shoveled it).
    Anyway, Goines was in a playful mood, and he found himself proposing an experiment to see whether thinking about sex significantly increased a person’s blood pressure. Since Goines already took a BP reading almost every day, he proposed to take it TWICE each day, once in a thoroughly relaxed, abstinent frame of mind, and then again, after reading a sex scene from Red’s novel – to compare the readings. Pavel even predicted the difference: 12 systolic points.
    The difference in his very first day’s two systolic blood pressure readings was amazing – 17, even 5 more than the 12 that Pavel had predicted.
    Goines of course realized that this was but a single set of readings, by a single experimental subject – himself. A valid experiment would call for a statistically valid population of subjects, and a huge number of BP readings.
    And he noticed something else about the day’s experiment, although he hesitated to reveal it to Red and Pavel: He found himself really, really wanting to read the next sex scene. Were Red’s sex scenes addicting?
    Just enrolling a statistically valid number of experimental subjects to read Red’s book to determine whether it was addicting would guarantee the book more readers than any of Red’s other books had found. And if addictiveness could be confirmed, the novel might prove to be Red’s break-out book, rocketing it to the top of bestsellers lists around the world.
    And if someone’s Facebook page (or something) serialized the novel without the sex scenes (which would probably be disallowed anyway), but told readers they would find them all in the published book, Red could sell even more copies….
_______________
* The background image is a “Lady Parts” illustration from a Medieval prayer book.


Copyright © 2022 by Moristotle

6 comments:

  1. Given the nature of most men, I think the phenomenon could be declared valid. Almost a given! And yes, sex sells. A guy named Herzog marketed a surfboard wax in the 70's called Sex Wax for no other reason than it drew attention. It wasn't any better wax, but it sure sold.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. So, in addition to exploiting Red’s novel’s possibly being addictive, Goines should also recommend that “SEX” appear on the front cover?

      Delete
  2. The fact that Lolita has been made and re-made into movies until what, the 60's? Shows how society's attitude toward sex has changed. More sex, less underage sex!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. There was also a remake in 1997. Wikipedia:

      Lolita is a 1997 drama film directed by Adrian Lyne and written by Stephen Schiff. It is the second screen adaptation of Vladimir Nabokov's 1955 novel of the same name and stars Jeremy Irons as Humbert Humbert and Dominique Swain as Dolores "Lolita" Haze, with supporting roles by Melanie Griffith as Charlotte Haze, and Frank Langella as Clare Quilty.

      Delete
  3. Well I got a chance to test your theory but pure coincidence. Got lucky the other day, then head to my pain doctor for a checkup, and 3 hours later my BP was still way high-142/94. it's usually 120s over 70s. Even doing my square breathing and going to my happy place!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. One DOES wonder what wonders lie concealed beneath your innocent statement. “Got lucky the other day”!

      By the way, I saw this item this morning in the Jan. 31 issue of the New Yorker:

      "We Are Lady Parts," By Rachel Syme
          There are so many shows—and streaming services on which to watch them—that it is easy to overlook a true gem. But they are out there, glittering among the schlock, waiting to be discovered. Now is as good a time as any to hit play on the Peacock series “We Are Lady Parts,” a comedy from the creator Nida Manzoor about an all-female Muslim rock band in the U.K., which quietly débuted six hilarious episodes last summer and will soon start filming a second season. The show—which stars Anjana Vasan, Sarah Kameela Impey, Faith Omole, Juliette Motamed, and Lucie Shorthouse, as a ragtag riot-grrrl-esque group of musicians (and their cheeky manager)—is a modern-day screwball comedy laced with dashes of magical realism. The women regularly melt into rich fantasy worlds, as when Vasan’s shy guitarist, Amina, imagines herself into a schmaltzy black-and-white movie when face to face with her crush. The show’s strength is in its highly specific and eccentric characters; it taps into so many aspects of the British Muslim experience (which, in clunky depictions in popular culture, is so often portrayed as a monolith) that it moves past sheer representation and into a fully developed, rich, silly world where the jokes land as crisply as the G chords.

      Delete