Banned upon its initial publication, the now-classic Candy is a romp of a story about the impossibly sweet Candy Christian, a wide-eyed, luscious, all-American girl. Candy –– a satire of Voltaire’s Candide –– chronicles her adventures with mystics, sexual analysts, and everyone she meets when she sets out to experience the world.

Candy

if the difference in appeal between reading pornography and reading erotica is in the artistry of the language and the sophistication & depth of the emotions conveyed, then perhaps the difference between reading erotica and reading the erotic literary novel is in the richness of its thematic elements. right? Candy's depiction of a very horny 50s america is also a depiction of the various obsessions and bugaboos of that time period, and in that way it is somewhat interesting. thematically. somewhat.  it is a picaresque and fast-paced tale, and the similarities between the title name and candide are obvious. sadly, its many attacks on the staid ole 50s come across as tired and cliched. there is also, as always, something deeply problematic in the use of a naive sexpot as a symbol of liberation. i mean seriously, is this cliche jackoff persona really such a timeless icon that she has to be used so consistently throughout literature? i prefer her where she belongs, amidst the entirely unrealistic and two-dimensional caricatures of porn. there are surely more interesting personifications of empowerment, particularly female empowerment, to be drawn upon. and the various sexy scenarios were actually not very hot at all.  still, the novel is not without its worth, as a relic of its time.

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