Opinion and Analysis
6th Jun 2012
Let’s Talk About the Marquis de Sade and Domineering Sex

Happy belated birthday to the Marquis de Sade. The pioneer of sexual libertinism and champion of powerful female sexuality, right? Wrong.
I am not a radical feminist, I am without a doubt sex-positive, so therefore I am happy to trust my interpretation of de Sade’s works as those of a misogynistic pervert.
My answer to the topical question ‘Can one be a feminist and be topped/dominated in the bedroom?’ is yes. Yes, yes, yes … oh god yes! Unless, of course, you happen to be so unfortunate as to exist in a de Sade novel. If that’s the case, then you’re screwed (no pun intended).
His two major works Juliette and Justine deal with female sexuality in what we now term, a BDSM context, but neither novel does so in a particularly positive light.
Justine is the victim of a Sadist – forced into a sexual submissive role wherein she is routinely humiliated. She is the passive female sex object born of the same position from which men can justify fantasies of rape and domination in a non-consensual context.
Juliette, on the other hand, is the object of male degradation. She’s the dirty girl who needs to be taught a lesson. She is sexually deviant and as such she is a symbol of warped eroticism. She has a ferocious sexual appetite, which is presented in context with her fondness for murder and infanticide.
The characters are symbols of misogynistic male sex fantasies and neither of these women symbolise healthy, female sexual agency. And it’s something we still see in contemporary erotic fiction.
This influx of the ‘mummy porn’ genre which implies that all women subconsciously want, or more to the point need, to be given a good seeing to is decidedly not feminist. Contemporary heterosexual erotic fiction still fetishes this imbalance of power, which invariable leans towards the man.
I’m specifically thinking of Fifty Shades of Grey here, where the male/female balance of power is totally skew-whiff. Christian Grey is a male billionaire, with extensive sexual experience and strong desire to dominate, whereas Anastasia is a young, college graduate with no sexual experience, totally void of economic self-sufficiency. She is cast in the role of the submissive by circumstance. Not through desire.
In my opinion, the question of feminism and sexual agency depends upon a sense of awareness. In a sexual context, the balance of power first has to be equal and acknowledged; only then can the power be consensually tipped in which ever direction floats your boat.
Some radical feminists would most certainly disagree with me here, suggesting that the balance of power can never be equal; that heterosexual sex is embedded in a domination system which we are inherently a part of, and through which our roles have already been assigned.
But, I’m not sure I buy that theory. I’m much too attached to the concept of free will and being in charge of my own life.
The inclination to write the heterosexual female submissive as a product of an inherent inability to resist the manly masculine man with his ‘throbbing member’ is ridiculous. It removes any kind of individual desire and authoritative choice.
I propose this: instead of seeing hetero female sexual submission as an uncontrollable reaction to male awesomeness (*cough*) how about instead saying ‘I like to be dominated because of what it does for me. It’s nothing to do with your amazing masculine allure and my inability to resist your super-duper penis. It’s because I like it when you spank me, and it makes me come’?
The tendency of fiction to fetishise the gendered and unequal distribution of power is detrimental to understandings of sex roles and choices.
De Sade’s works, and the contemporary controversy surrounding them, give tremendous insight into eighteenth century gender norms, ideas of expected sexual behaviours, and male fantasy, which from a historical perspective is so useful.
Unfortunately it seems that modern erotic fiction has barely made any advances. The genre still perpetuates these ideas of meek, passive women who succumb to men rather than actively wanting to be in a submissive role. It’s 2012. This needs to be rectified. Any takers?
Sarah Hansen
(Image via mrsexsmith)




















Thanks for this feature, Sarah. Sex and sexuality in and out of literature is endlessly fascinating to me, but I have to admit to finding some parts of this problematic.
It reminded me of the interview I did a while back with erotica author Kristina Lloyd, who talked about how so many people had difficulty reconciling her feminist values with the rape and BDSM scenes in her books.
While I love fiction where women proudly claim and celebrate either sub or dom roles (rather than being pressured/coerced into them), and recognise its value and importance in shaping the way sexual roles are seen, I can’t help but think that fiction where the characters are pushed into a submissive role may have a useful function for readers too, and provide them with a safe space to explore those fantasies.
For some readers, especially ones who perhaps are new to the idea of BDSM – such as the many Fifty Shades of Grey fans who claim to have never read or experienced anything along those lines – a character actively claiming a submissive role could be seen as a contradiction in terms, and perhaps that’s why those stereotypes endure?
I like how you talk about how Ana is a submissive by circumstance. I’d not thought about it in those terms before, but I have considered some other aspects of her personality that you’ve mentioned here. My main problem with Ana is that she’s written as the stereotypical male fantasy – an unused, virginal girl. She’s 21. Fine, she’s a virgin, loads of girls are virgins at 21. But never been kissed? Never…’sorted herself out’? Never had any sexual desire of any kind? This novel is supposed to be a female fantasy written from a woman’s perspective, but her character just screams male fantasy. Plus Christian’s purchase of the company she works for, their marriage in 3 months, not allowing her to drive her own car and having her followed…I wasn’t aware any women in this day and age actually liked the idea of complete loss of free will in every aspect of their lives.
Thanks for this article, I really enjoyed it.
“rather than actively wanting to be in a submissive role. It’s 2012. This needs to be rectified. Any takers?”
Yes, ME!
I am a submissive woman living a full time D/s life and married to my Dom… this is my free will and choice to live like this BECAUSE IT MAKES ME HAPPY.
I am also the writer of a very successful sex blog based around my life and experiences as a submissive woman. I am constantly contacted by woman wanting to talk to me about my life and the choices I have made. It has been one of the most wonderful things about writing my blog, empowering other woman to embrace their sexual desires, what ever they maybe, and enjoy them.
Mollyxxx
Interesting post Sarah!
I think Sade’s work always needs to be seen within the context of his life. This was a man already incarcerated for life, his books often feel to me like an exercise in how to write the most perverted/horrific details, a giant fingers up to the very authorities which had locked him up. The fact that he never finished ‘!00 Days of Sodom’ might just show that even he got bored of his relentless pornographic output.
As such I don’t think he was neither a feminist not mysoginist – his only agenda seems to have been himself.
I do like his work from a philosophical point – he took Enlightenment ideas such as ‘back to nature’ literally, exposing that logic and rationality are ultimately tools that can be used to justify terrible crimes.
I don’t think you can really judge him in modern terms like ‘feminism’… also, his books are more satire than erotica. I think his focus is much more on making establishment figures look grotesque than discussing the rights of women, in 120 Days anyway. Never made it as far as Justine… the writing is so bad. Interesting article anyhow.