I chose Ooh La La! Contemporary French Erotica for Women for review because its subtitle made me curious. Would an anthology of stories written exclusively by women have a different feel than the others I own? What exactly does “contemporary French erotica” consist of? I envisioned smoky nightclubs, absinthe-tinted debauchery, and possibly a mime or two in bondage gear just to complete the cliche.

I was wrong, which would have normally been a good thing. Instead of smoky nightclubs, there are abandoned hotels, where heroines are led, tied down, and forced to fuck anything that enters the room for weeks on end. There's no absinthe, just incredibly powerful champagne that gets the heroine so drunk she fucks all the guests at a dinner party. And instead of mimes there are men with penises made of solid gold who turn into statues when their marriages fail, and Buddhist monks who turn to monkeys after a long night of tantric sex.

But that's not the worst. At least half the stories end in death. When I read the first one, I supposed the editors thought it would be an attention-grabber to have a woman actively seek a man who was willing to sleep with her and then cut her to pieces on film and send a copy to her husband. But, the next tale featured a man who decided to lock his wife and his mistress in a trunk and go for a drive. When he arrives at their destination, he finds the women have torn each other to shreds and bled out, so he dumps their bodies in a nearby pond. Another woman is tied naked to a statue and whipped to death. Yet another is strangled by a truck driver she taunted into a rage. The heroines that don't die get peed on, or murder their lovers accidentally (she was trying to kill her horse instead.)

Generally I don't give poor reviews to anthologies or stories that obviously cater to specific fetishes I happen to not share, but most of these stories are also poorly written—or, at least, poorly translated. Here are some excerpts of the writing to show what I mean:

“There is a scream, a deep guttural roar, and the black man stops, still planted deep inside her ass, and she feels his come pouring out, burning her. She distractedly visualizes the powerful white jets irrigating her guts, like an unholy, boiling enema.” - Tarot

“I was moaning in pleasure, shaking my muscular buttocks. Eyes closed on a supreme happiness, I had reached the paroxysm of delirium. A roar of pleasure was already coming from my throat. Imminent explosion, ecstatic apotheosis...Then, suddenly, the bitch bit me and took off the tip of my 'ladies' pleasure.'” -Chalad'oro (Don't worry, ladies and gents, the cock in question is solid gold and feels no pain, but we as readers are somewhat less lucky...)

“I crawled to the bulwarks and puked over the edge, hanging onto the railing. Behind, Philippe, one hand under my skirt, dived into my panties and spread my thighs. I let myself go with the flow, holding onto the edge of the boat, while he penetrated me, jolted, capsized, stood, erect beneath the sky, his trousers open, barely pulled down, his chest tanned and hairy, triumphant.” -Poor Fishermen

I forced myself to read through the entire thing in the hopes that I could find one story to call arousing, but oddly enough I am not turned on by women bleeding to death after allowing their vaginas to be cannibalized by convicted serial killers.

However, something does have to be said for the anthology's consistency. There are strong themes here of female submission, watersports, exhibitionism, gangbanging, and erotic mutilation. I have yet to run across an anthology with more a consistent attention to theme, so if any of these areas appeal to you, this may be your personal Holy Grail of erotica.

Not for me, though. While I can appreciate a good gangbang, it kills the mood if they end in the lady being whipped and left to die of exposure.

The back of the book promises tales that are "hot, elegant, gently perverse, quietly shocking, and always arousing. These twenty-nine stories will leave no reader indifferent." The last part's certainly true. In short, I think all 283 pages of this anthology are horribly misrepresented. This is being sold as a general erotic anthology, when it would do much better being marketed more honestly as a fetish compilation. Between that and the poor writing/translations, it has earned a two-star review.

Months after my initial read-through, and I still shudder every time I notice "Ooh La La! Contemporary French Erotica by Women" nestled in the adult section on my bookshelf. I keep it for the shock value, but I think it is just as misrepresented now as I did upon initial review.

My dearest wish is to find someone to pass book this on to, but I can't decide if I would rather that someone be a friend or an enemy....