Sexy Saturday Round-Up

22 Nov

By Liz Everly and the Lady Smut Bloggers

DarkDesiresHello Sexy! Hope you’re having a fabulous  Saturday. Curl up with us at Lady Smut and read some of our favorite posts from this week.

From Liz :

Can you have too many orgasms? Oh yes, you can.

Here’s fabulous list of sex blogs. Fair warning: this could keep you occupied for hours, if not days.

On Wattpad

The gate we should have kept.

On dating down.

From Madeline: sez: It’s not your kids holding you back in your career–it’s your husband. 

The Insect that Loves Sex 

Items from the Institute of Sexology

Why you love to hate some of your friends–and how it’s damaging your health. 

Elizabeth Shore reported about the cuddle phenom to y’all–here’s the latest update: how to get your cuddle on.

Vintage Black Glamour 

Over at Geekyfreaky, geeks argue over sexy comic icons.  The battle then continues–this time about muscled heroes–over at Comics

From C. Margery Kempe:

Mark Coker on how ebook publishing gets harder from now on

William Blake’s London in an app

In depth interview at The Toast with Susan Farrell of Art Crimes

Stay Hungry,


Just Dance

21 Nov Shaw Dancing

Shaw Dancingby C. Margery Kempe

Do you love to dance?

For some reason, dancing has been coming up this week in so many conversations online and in face-to-face too. Obviously I need to dance more and that’s good exercise. And it’s cold in the house so getting up to do some yoga or a little dancing is just a way to stay warm (praise all the gods, we haven’t yet got major snow unlike the folks in the west) because it costs a lot to keep a 200 year old house — well, not so much warm as not freezing.

So yeah, there’s a practical side to dancing. Whether you think it the first refinements of a polished society or the province of ‘savages’ dance has always been around. And it has so very often played exactly the role Shaw gives it in the image above: testing one’s sexual mettle. Years ago I berated a male friend for refusing to dance (as I often do). I told him, “A man who gets up and dances — however badly! — is miles ahead of the guy who sits at the table, arms folded, refusing to dance.”

My friend taxed the truth of that statement O.O (sorry, Howie, you know it’s true!) but he agreed eventually (cue that Footloose scene but ten times worse). Men will tell you all kinds of reasons they ‘can’t dance’ (most of them incredibly stupid and sexist and often homophobic). The real reason? To dance well you have to listen, feel, trust your body and respond to your partner.


Physical partnership with attention to details: well yes. As Christopher Morley wrote in Kitty Foyle, “Dancing is wonderful training for girls, it’s the first way you learn to guess what a man is going to do before he does it.” In other words, it’s a good predictor of sexual performance. You notice the way someone moves, how they take your hand, how quickly they get in sync with your rhythm, when they’re gentle, when they push you to do more. How do they use their hands or is it all in the feet? How do your bodies fit together? There’s no one right way to do it: but you know what makes your skin come alive.

Consider the Finnish tango: even in the snow, the people who often seen to be the least forthcoming about how they feel (trust me, it’s a gene that gets carried along!) go for the sexy heat of the tango. Say it on the dance floor even if you can’t say it out loud.

Please send me your last pair of shoes, worn out with dancing as you mentioned in your letter, so that I might have something to press against my heart. – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Follow you dark dancing desires with Lady Smut. We’d never lead you astray — unless you wanted to go that way!

Sexy Older Men–AKA The Daddy Figure

20 Nov
Model Steven Ritts has a whole new career these days--as the older guy.

Model Steven Ritts has a whole new career these days–as the older guy.

By Madeline Iva

Occasionally, the guy who runs shares interesting statistical factoids from his dating site.  One statistic: women tend to think the ideal age for a man is the same age as herself. For example, if a woman is 21 then her idea of the ideal age for a man is 21.  If she’s 35, then it’s 35, if she’s 50, then it’s 50.

Men, on the other hand, all think that the ideal age for a woman is 21.

It’s like the punch line to a bad joke.  Cue the sound effects: Whaaa-waaa-waaaaah.

I am not surprised.  Never have I been so hit upon in my life as when I was around that age.  Nine-tenths of the men were older–around thirty or so.  They saw a young woman alone in the world and wanted to take care of me.  It was an irresistible urge on their part.  Yet I wanted nothing to do with them.  I was very intimidated.

Ah, how joyous it was when I met my dear beloved husband at 19 and that issue was put to rest for forever.  No more being approached by older men.  To be honest, I had grown up fatherless and the daddy figure thing just hit me on an emotional funny bone making the whole sexual chemistry happening hideously uncomfortable and icky.

Years later I was hanging out with two guys at lunch–both of whom were about fifteen years younger than me.  They talked about living in NYC where they both got entangled with older women.  The bottom line: while they really wanted to relish the ego boost of having slept with sexy older women–in their hearts they found older women intimidating. This made me so happy — I know other people are different, but I enjoyed the company of of those who preferred partners close in age.

Foyle 3

Good father figure.

Then I got a little older.  Things changed.  First I suddenly became a lot more aware of men physically.  My friends were the same.  All our minds seemed to have wandered to the gutter. They confessed to sudden obsessions with mens legs, or that chests.  For me it was an about-face with older men.

I’ve noticed I’m once more getting the eye from older men.  Of course, older now doesn’t mean guys in their 30′s, it means guys in their 50′s and early 60′s.  Usually at the gym.  Sometimes in the line at the grocery store or in a cafe. Unlike the younger men, who will be staring at my breasts in the gym and then look up another six inches, flush and look away, older men are going for eye contact with the hint of a smile.  Unlike younger older men (!) older older men, seem to be able to read subtle cues that I’m not interested and they stay away. But I’m not as bothered by the whole thing as I used to be.

Looking at actors and such on TV or in movies, I find that suddenly older men aren’t intimidating–they’re sexy.  In fact, I like the idea of older men.  Someone more patient.  Someone who recognizes his own flaws.  Someone who sees things across a landscape of experience and makes a gentle suggestions that really helps.  I also find that I like the way older men look.  Is it just me or have older men stepped up their game?  Some men improve dramatically over the decades– both in appearance and in charisma.

Hugh 4

Bad Daddy figure.

There’s a quality of experience and assurance with older men that I now like and appreciate.  But, so what? What we’re really talking here is the daddy figure thing–in sexy, more sophisticated form.  The whole dark desire of a Daddy Figure? Not so freaky to me any more.  Definitely a forbidden desire. Definitely hot.

And why so forbidden? The older-man/younger-woman thing is as old as time.  Well, because as common as it is, our society gets incredibly critical at the idea and takes a huge crap on it–I’ll admit with good reason.  Another statistic: the greater the age gap, the greater the chance of a couple breaking up.

On television I notice that sometimes the older man and the younger women just have the chemistry. When they try to match up the older guy to an age appropriate foil, it’s not the same.  (Though I appreciate the thought.)

What are you gonna do?  In FOYLE’S WAR they just let it lie there.  On HOUSE they took it to an awkward, painful place.  Alas.


Go forth next week and feast your heart out at Thanksgiving! We’re going to post some of our favorite blog posts from the past while wishing you warm holiday cheer.

You don’t want to miss any of our oldie-but-goodie blog posts do you? Follow our blog and keep yourself fed with sexy-goodness 24/7.

The Objects Of My Desire

19 Nov

Woman in white bra with hand on man's abs

By Elizabeth Shore

We’ve all by now seen the video of model Shoshana Roberts walking the streets of NYC and receiving over a hundred catcalls during a 10 hour period of time. It sparked a firestorm of debate. “Verbal harassment!” said many feminists. “Giving a woman compliments!” argued a vocal group of men – and some women. Fox News got it on the action, with their political pundit Bob Beckel saying on air about Ms. Roberts – and I quote – “damn, baby, you’re a piece of woman.”

The two-pronged argument by those who dislike catcalling is first that it allows men to exert power over women by making them feel scared and threatened merely by walking down the street, and second that it makes women feel like nothing more than a hot piece of T&A for men’s sexual gratification. We are, the objectors say, objectified.

It’s a word that gets thrown around a lot, and nearly always in the context of women being made to feel that way by men. Fellow writer Elf Ahearn and I were talking about this very thing the other day when she mused out loud, “are women objectifying men the way they do to us?” Interesting question. Are they? The answer, I’ve come to learn, isn’t all that simple.

Look up the definition of objectifying someone and you get a response along the lines of: viewing a person merely as the sum of her parts with no consideration of emotions, feelings, or thoughts of her own. So if a woman sees a guy and yells out, “Hey, Stud, oooooh! What’s going on with that rise in your Levis?” hasn’t she just objectified him? Strictly speaking, she has. Except wait! There’s more …

An interesting article on by writer Shannon Ridgway points out that a fundamental difference between a man feeling objectified by a woman versus a woman feeling the same way by a man is that “men haven’t experienced systematic, centuries-long objectification like women have.” They may be insulted or demeaned by a woman commenting on their “package,” for example, but the occasional insult cannot be compared with what women have endured for centuries.

If you watch the video, some of the comments do seem to come across as men simply being flirtatious. “What’s up, Beautiful? Have a good day,” says one guy to Ms. Roberts as they pass one another.” Harmless enough, right? So say many guys, bemused by women feeling threatened by those comments. Video blogger Red Pill Philosophy taped a response to the video in which he questions feminists’ “petty, elitist, victimhood mentality.” Victim of what?! he demands to know. “Of too many men begging to hand over their money and energy to please you? Feed you?”

Red Pill is forgetting the Native American saying about not judging a person until you’ve walked a mile in their moccasins. He’s not capable of understanding how it feels to be a woman, preyed upon or threatened by a man’s unwanted attention. Watch the guy in the video walking next to Ms. Roberts for five minutes, refusing to realize that she doesn’t want him there. Would a man feel threatened by a woman doing the same thing? Generally speaking, men are bigger, stronger, and faster – so why would they? If a women whistles and makes obscene hand gestures, a guy can easily laugh it off. Or even, as some would argue, take it as nothing more a harmless compliment. So do they feel objectified? And if they do, do they care? Is the romance genre and our focus on the hot bodied males of our dreams make us any less guilty of objectifying men than they do to us with their whistles and calls?

DarkDesiresLet us know how you feel in the comments below. And for more thought provoking posts, remember to follow up here at Lady Smut. We won’t object.




Pleasing You

18 Nov


By Liz Everly

Last week, my blog post about Miss Fisher’s Mysteries, “The Sexy Vibe of Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries” went berserk. The numbers were sky high. I don’t usually pay attention my numbers on the blog, but this was so amazingly high that it grabbed my attention.

Which of course made me wonder why. I’m certain it has to do with the popularity of Miss Fisher’s Mysteries. I was wondering about the headline starting with “Sexy Vibe.” That might have done it. But the truth is I just don’t know.

Because it the numbers were so big last week, I decided to look back through some of my blog posts over the past year and list the most frequently visited ones. Basically, this is an effort to give you more of what you really want. I aim to please—all of the bloggers at Lady Smut do, as well.

Shut up and F—k Me

Interview with a Romance Cover Model

Readers: How Much Sex in Your Story

Five Gay Men I Lust After

Writer Dudes: Hot or Not?

Looks like our readers like to read about sex, men (gay or straight), and romance. Hmmm. Stay tuned, we have plenty more of all THAT coming your way. In the mean time, enjoy the blogs posts and don’t forget to subscribe.


Old Skool vs New: Consent in the Supernatural

17 Nov

by Kiersten Hallie Krum

Consent in romance can be a bit tricky to unpack given the less than vaunted history of rape fantasies and forced seduction in the genre. One of the most common slurs against the romance genre is that they are nothing more than “bodice rippers,” novels where the pristine heroine is “forced” to succumb to her older, more-experience lover as he reveals her untapped passion. I put forced deliberately in quotes because in such old skool romances, as we refer to them now, the heroine had to be portrayed first as a sexual innocent and then as only reluctantly “forced” into enjoying her sexuality through the hero’s overwhelming desire. She could only give into sex and enjoy it if the man gave her no other choice whether by overwhelming her with his desire or by actually overwhelming her. Kathleen E. Woodiwiss’ seminal The Flame and the Flower is the gold standard of this trope where the heroine is mistaken by the hero for being a prostitute and is “forced” into sex, almost blatantly raped under the guise of romance. Later, after he’s forced to marry her because she was innocent and genteel-born and he “ruined” her, she essentially falls in love with her rapist. Wonderful role-models for romance there.

Thankfully, romance has come a long way from those rape fantasy tropes. These days, if there’s force going on in a romance, it probably involves bindings…and is consensual. But that doesn’t mean the issue of consent has gone away and in fact it shows up most overtly in paranormal and urban fantasy romance novels. The question of consent hovers over stories with “fated” lovers, the trope in which the conflicted supernatural creature– whether vampire, wolf shifter, or honey badger–needs his (it’s almost always the male who is in need) fated mate in order to offset some horrible curse. The heroine often sacrifices her ability to consent in these situations: when the world is in peril from a curse, who is she to quibble over losing control of her “destiny”?

dark lover

The first installment of the crackalicious Black Dagger Brotherhood series involves this trope along with some class A stalking issues for “her protection” as does the original first installment of Kresley Cole’s (admittedly addictively awesome) Immortals After Dark series. As readers, we go with the flow of the story here, that this obsession of the hero for the heroine, one that forces her (no quotes here) to go along with what he wants for an immediate payment of equally supernatural orgasms, is “romantic” in its way since it evolves into a committed love relationship and often is part of the heroine’s own journey to her power, which either matches or eclipses the hero’s. Sure, it’s romantic to think of a lover compelled by forces beyond reason to love and need only one woman, the whole concept of “soul mate” in these cases taken to a supernatural conclusion. But is that really any different from an old-skool forced seduction that ends in a loving marriage? (Full disclosure: I’m actually a big fan of the “fated soul mates” trope, at least in fiction, but that makes me want to all the more deeply deconstruct them.)


Fellow Lady Smut blogger, Madeline Iva, and I touched upon this idea during last week’s Facebook release party for The Lady Smut Big Book of Dark Desires. In her novella in that anthology, Sexomnia, the heroine, Jenny, is possessed by a succubus demon who calls herself Jennifer. When Jenny sleeps, Jennifer comes out to play with a variety of partners with no gender barrier and no thought to Jenny’s own desires. Each night of excess leaves Jenny somewhere new in the morning with no memory of anything–or anyone–Jennifer did while she slept. In this, Jennifer is malevolent, evil, not because of her unapologetic sexuality, but because she’s removing Jenny’s power of consent.

This week’s episode of the deliciously creepy Sleepy Hollow, while admittedly not a romance, featured a succubus as the monster-of-the-week. Here there’s no question she’s entirely evil, sucking life and hearts from her victims in order to sustain a demon overlord. It’s safe to assume nobody consents to getting their heart sucked out.

On the urban fantasy show Lost Girl, Bo is a succubus fighting to understand and control her growing powers. She feeds off the sexual chi of her lovers (or are they victims?) who die when she takes too much of their life force. One of the (sadly) unique draws of the show is the stated lack of slut shaming toward Bo for her biological need to have sex to sustain her life force. But the issue of sexual consent for her partners is never outright addressed. (It’s safe to assume a lack of consent to her draining them of life.) When she trolls her neighborhood bar for potential partners, there’s never a question of whether or not, free of her succubus influence, those partners would choose to have sex with Bo. She’s hot and seductive so it’s assumed that anyone she chooses, male or female, will naturally be ready and willing to get it on.

But what if they’re not? Under the influence of her supernatural power, how would they know? Part of Bo’s power is the ability to control people outside of sex too through her influence on their libido and then make them forget what they did for and with her. How again is that different from a roofie in someone’s drink eliminating their ability to say no? And what about the dichotomy between what the body wants and what the mind knows better than to do? In the Lost Girl mythology, a succubus can arouse a man or woman’s body whether or not his or her mind objects. Any fidelity toward a significant other, for example, would have no significance regardless of the person’s otherwise clear-headed, uninfluenced wishes. Also, the succubus is traditionally female, likely in order to further invest female sexuality as something evil, but switch the genders and the issues of consent in this supernatural trope are even more obvious and possibly even more alarming.


Click on image to buy!

Yeah, romances can just be an escape and urban fantasy/genre shows can just be fantastical camp. But does that erase the responsibility to at least be aware of how we’re playing with and perhaps influencing the consent issue in a pop-culture obsessed society? As we manipulate genre tropes and celebrate female sexuality in its many varied and wonderful embodiments, should we be more careful of addressing consent? Or doesn’t it matter when we’re writing or watching succubuses and vampires and that ever elusive honey badger in the first place?

Want a taste of a demonic succubus? Check out Sexomnia and the other sexy stories in The Lady Smut Book of Dark Desires, now available.

Follow Lady Smut. We’ll ask for your consent every time…and a safe word when needed.

I *Do* Need the Badges: A Brief Word on Uniforms

16 Nov
So how does that magic work?

So how does that magic work?

By Alexa Day

I had an encounter with several members of the law enforcement and first response community a while back. I’m not going into the details here. Let’s just say I didn’t touch any of them, and we’ll leave it at that.

Anyway, while I was involved with these folks, I couldn’t help but notice that a great many of them are hot.

What? I couldn’t help it. It’s my job to notice.

The firemen were hot. The police officers were hot. Perfectly professional, of course. But undeniably hot.

I had to wonder — and I promise that I was quietly wondering this out of harm’s way — what causes that. Certainly there must be average-looking police officers and paramedics and firemen out there somewhere. I mean, it’s not UPS, where I honestly believe they only hire hot people.

Do these particular clothes make the man … sexy?

I’m not altogether sure. But I think that when the allure of the man in uniform works, it works for a particular set of reasons.

The uniform is practically designed to exploit the male body. Piping lengthens legs. Epaulets draw out shoulders. That jacket seam goes all the way down the center of a man’s back. And the belt. A policeman’s belt makes it easier to watch his hips move. (The same principle applies for a belly dancer’s belt, by the way, except that my costume belts served few other purposes.) How often do we get to watch a man’s hips move?

Not often enough, my friends. Not nearly often enough.

I also wonder if the uniform causes a man to carry himself a little differently. I once ran across a gaggle of firemen hanging out on the sidewalk near an apartment building. They were all dressed fairly casually for firemen, in their fire department T shirts and leg-lengthening pants, waiting for some of their colleagues to finish testing the alarm system. But they were still hot, even without the turnout gear. (And if anyone has a better collective noun than “gaggle” for my purposes here, I’d love to hear it. Seriously.)

A uniform also comes with a built-in grant of authority. It identifies its wearer as the person in charge. He flies the plane. He catches criminals. He saves lives. He fights evil. And right now, he pays attention to you. That’s pretty heady stuff. I think it lies at the base of the uniform fetish, just before it blooms into a healthy appreciation for smooth, soft leather, shiny buttons, sharp creases, and all those hard, unyielding angles. I think the uniform sends a clear message about who is the boss of whom.

Most importantly — and least superficially, just to prove I can do that — there’s the fact that a man has to earn a uniform. If we see him out and about in uniform, we know right away that he’s done something to set himself apart from the rest of us. He’s done something important. He’s done something you needed done. He’s done something not everyone is able to do.

And the great part is that this facet of sexiness — the admiration — translates equally to women in uniform. All the pride, all the appreciation, none of that pesky desire for inappropriate touching. Everybody wins, right?

So right now, what I’m gonna need you to do is follow Lady Smut. That’s right. Just click the button over there, and we’ll take it from here, okay?

Sexy Saturday Round-Up

15 Nov

By Liz Everly and the Lady Smut Bloggers

LS Fb squareHello Sexy! We’ve got a great line up of blogs posts for your reading pleasure. This week: diamond vibrators, Kim Kardashian’s ass, and hot guys with kittens. Among other subjects. What more could you want?

From Liz:

Diamonds that vibrate—a girl’s best friend?

Historical romance writers: How do you assign your character a trade? Check out this resource.

Women Owning their Own Sexuality

From Madeline:

Dispatch from China: Life as a fake beauty Queen

9 Shit Things Single Girls Are Sick of Hearing 

What women look at when they look at Porn.

What? WHAT? 9 Celebs who are in open relationships.

From Elizabeth:

Say it isn’t so! Kim Kardashian’s ass pictures are fake.

The science is in. Guys who are good looking give women the best orgasms.

Dance like you think you’re alone. This guy did, and it’s awesome.

There’s just something about hot guys with kittens that will make your heart absolutely melt.

From Alexa:

Take time to mourn and consider these tips for when some trollop steals your celebrity boyfriend.

Film director is done with the term “black film.”

Fan fiction has been very, very good to some folks. Very good indeed.

Stay Hungry,


Thank You!

14 Nov DarkDesires


From all the Lady Smut team, we give you our heartfelt thanks for the big excitement last night at our Facebook launch party. It was hard to keep up but we had fun, prizes and a lot of sexy bods flying across the screens! May your every dark desire come true :-*

Like a Virgin (Guy) Touched For the Very First Time: Dark Desires Post

13 Nov Grigoriy Dobrygin who played Issa.
"One of us should ken what they're doing."

“One of us should ken what they’re doing.”

by Madeline Iva

I am completely obsessed with a character/actor from a movie. Why? Because I suspect his character is a virgin.

Call it virgin creep. Have you noticed? Guys get to be virgins now. I should say guys get to be virgins now too.   I’m talking Mr. Sparkly you-know-who from Twilight–we won’t name him and draw out all the haters.

I’m talking Jamie in Outlander.

I’m talking – well, as it turns out I’m talking about my good friend Joanna Bourne’s latest character Pax in Rogue Spy. (We’re shared a release week birthday with her last week.)

Let’s not forget Tristan in the movie Stardust. (He represents a kind of cross-roads virgin – one who straddles old, horrible stereotypes with a new sensibility about male virginity.)

Virgins one and all. Virgins who, unlike in the past, aren’t ashamed of it. They choose it. They wait and wait for The One.

It used to be that any shamed virgin male youths were meant to be corrupted ASAP by some older seductress female – preferably from the raunchy side of the tracks. Not anymore! These virgin men I listed above find their mate. One who is eager for sex/more experienced at sex. One who is NOT from the raunchy side of life. Not one little bit.

So the whole virgin thing is shifting for men. Good I say!

OH HEY, BTW: We’re having a party tonight on fb to celebrate our anthology release. Want to come? Click HERE and join the fun. Also, click HERE to see some of the fab books we’re giving away before the party starts.

Okay…back to my movie obsession. The movie is A MOST WANTED MAN.

beard2They don’t talk about the virginity thing in the movie—and probably not in the book either. It’s all in the context.
The character is named Issa. He is Chechen. He enters Germany illegally, and he’s all bearded, dirty, and wild. Then we see him a little cleaner in a domestic setting and learn a bit more about him. He’s been in prison – two prisons in fact. One in Russia and the other in Turkey.

He’s a terrorist. Or maybe not. When he was interrogated by the Russians he confessed to being a terrorist. As someone in the movie suggests—while that could be true, it could also be the case that they tortured him until he would say whatever they wanted. After all, he’s from Chechnya, and that place is messed up.

So his status in our minds is a little dubious at the beginning. But then the movie goes on to show us a little more. He’s thin, starving, and scarred from beatings—he does not meet anyone’s eye. Which is hard, because the actor is so tall, but he manages. The movie goes on to show him as victimized (his mother was raped by his father) and devout in his religion.   By the time the movie is half over, we think he’s a good guy because he’s so inoffensive, and…cute. It’s more a matter of him being sinned against rather than sinning.

WantedAnd here’s the rub. He has to shave his beard because they’re going to try to hide him. Now he’s even cuter. He has to be alone with a woman because she’s his lawyer. She’s Rachel McAdams and therefore delectable, and inevitably—though it’s never talked about—her proximity takes a toll on him as he ends up seeing only her and relying upon her for everything–food and shelter and safety.

There’s this killer point in the movie where he’s talking to her and the hidden feelings and physical sensations just end up swamping him. He’s over on her side of the table suddenly, he’s physically tumbling almost right onto her, almost hugging her. His body is trembling.

At this point in 9 out of 10 films, they’d just do it. In this film, he manages to pick himself up and move away out of reach. She does nothing, remaining neutral, because clearly he is losing an inner struggle that he doesn’t want to lose.

And that’s where we end up seeing him as a good guy. He practices humility, moderation, and sincerity. He is good, he is devout. He is trying to stay true to the path of God, striving for purity after such unpure beginnings. Yet it makes one ache too, because he is so alone – his religion does not even permit a hug.
In the end, he gives Rachel McAdams a little gold necklace with a little charm – presumably of the Koran.   No words, just the gift.

I’m probably reading waaaaaay to much into this whole movie, but the way he behaved around her was Virgin guy 101 if you ask me. (Also, I’m telling you almost all the plot involving him—there’s not much more to it, so if you actually see the movie and come away feeling short-changed, don’t blame me.)

The plot line between Rachel McAdams and Issa is a minimalist jewel. There are a thousand ways in which it would never work out. These are never discussed, just like the inevitable attraction he has for her is never discussed.

Grigoriy Dobrygin who played Issa.

Grigoriy Dobrygin who played Issa.

In not responding to his physical breakdown she shows her own purity—purity of motive. She is—as the historical authors like to say—‘wholly disinterested’. Her character wants to help him—and that is all. It’s not because she has fallen in love with him. She in no way seeks to profit for herself by assisting him.

It could never work is the big upshot here. Even though they’re both. Trying. Just to be. Good. People. (OH, the humanity!)

No, this is not a romance. Not at all. And this underscores the whole movie which is a spy movie, yes, but also a kind of metaphysical gang rape of the master spy guy (played by Philip Seymour Hoffman RIP). This is typical of every John Le Carre film: modest spy hero f***ed over by untrustworthy big government types.

In the end I had pinwheels in my eyes for the actor playing Issa. His name is Grigoriy Dobrygin, he’s Russian, and I want to see him in more movies. Like NOW.

Okay, enough about me. What about you? Have you followed us at Lady Smut?

Are you joining our par-tay tonight? We’ll try to keep the semi-nude pictures of hot men down to a minimum.

No—I’m kidding, we won’t do that at all. ; >


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