Warning: this post (though quite erudite and tasteful) may not be safe for work.
Cara/Andrea here,
I’m delighted to welcome back my good friend and fabulous author Miranda Neville for a visit with the Wenches. For those of you who might not have met Miranda, she grew up in England, attended Oxford, and is—among her many prodigious talents—an expert bibliophile, having worked at Sotheby’s writing catalogues for the rare books and manuscripts. She has put that knowledge to great use in her Regency-set romances, which feature the gentlemen of the Burgundy Club, an exclusive group of book collectors.
The Amorous Education of Celia Seaton, the third in the series, hits the shelves this month . . . and in keeping with the long, hot, steamy summer we all have been experiencing in the States, she decided to share some of the rather “hot” research that went into the book. So gird your loins—so to speak— and let’s join Miranda as she takes us on a short romp through the history of how a good girl might learn some . . . naughty things.
Characters in historical romance have wonderful sex lives. If it doesn’t always start that way, it’s certainly how it ends up. No one wants to read about a “roll over it’s Saturday night” couple. But it certainly helps if one half of the duo – and it’s usually the hero – has a good idea what he’s doing. But how does he (or she) learn how to be a skilled lover?
In general, we are given three sources of wisdom.
(a) The hero’s former relationship(s) with a widow or courtesan. I’ll admit to sometimes feeling skeptical about the latter. Seems to me her job is to make sure the client has a good time regardless of her own pleasure. But never mind. It could happen.
(b) Living in India, home of the Karma Sutra and tangled limbs. Not as common as (a) but a distinct subset.
(c) Reading dirty books. This is particularly useful for virginal heroines.
At this point I back up three years, when I decided to research “historical sex” by reading early pornography. (Not that it was so-called until the mid-19th century in England, derived from a French word for works about prostitution.)
The most celebrated pioneer of pornography was Pietro Aretino, a poet and satirist who wrote a series of sixteen sonnets to accompany a suite of illustrations of sexual positions, engraved after erotic paintings by the youthful Giulio Romano. Issued in 1527, both sonnets and prints caused a scandal and were hunted down for destruction by the Catholic Church. Only fragments of “the postures” exist (the last complete set is said to have been destroyed in 1829) but the sonnets survived. Aretino went on to write The Dialogues, supposedly a record of conversations between whores in a brothel.
During the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries Aretino’s model of lists of sexual positions and “whore dialogues” was much imitated in Italy, France, and England. The name Aretino came to be a sort of generic term for salacious literature. His name appears on the title pages of books he didn’t write, starting with La Puttana Errante in 1650, actually the work of Niccolo Franco. Franco’s work was translated and rewritten by French writers and, through them, the English.
I found distinct national differences between Italian, French, and English pornography. Aretino’s sonnets contain a good deal of anal sex, to preserve female virginity and guard against pregnancy. By the time we get to the English versions there is none. I wonder if it reflects the English heterosexual male’s taboo against buggery. French libertine literature tends to be combined with high-flying philosophical ruminations, particularly in the mid-to-late eighteenth century when intellectuals like Restif de la Bretonne, Diderot, and Voltaire were writing forbidden works as a subversive act. The sex lives of nuns and priests was not only titillating, but also a criticism of the existing order. Some of the descriptions can get quite flowery. Among the thirty-six positions listed in a 1783 work entitled Histoire et Vie de L’Aretin are “quand la femme embrasse le Dieu Priape ailé” (“when the woman embraces the winged God Priapus”) and “quand l’homme baisse la femme à la cave” (“when the man kisses the woman in her cellar”).
For scholarly discussion of these works I direct you to Robert Darnton’s Forbidden Bestsellers of Pre-Revolutionary France and Bradford Mudge’s When Flesh Became Word. I wasn’t reading with scholarship in mind, but looking for ideas for my books.
Which brings me to The Genuine and Remarkable Amours of the Late Peter Aretin. I found this slim volume in the British Library when searching the catalogue for Aretino. Bearing the date 1796 on the title page, it’s a novel about the sexual adventures of a youth named Francis Featherbrain and his ardent pursuit of women on tables and riverbanks, in gardens, and brothels and just about anywhere else an Englishman of middling fortune might find himself. Reading it, I knew I’d struck gold. What if, I thought, a virginal heroine used this very book to get a bit of sex ed. So began The Amorous Education of Celia Seaton (with help from the hero who does know what he’s doing.) Every hilarious word Celia reads comes straight from the original. “You think I could make this stuff up?” I asked my editor, when she expressed surprise.
Here’s a brief excerpt from the book:
Minerva slid down from the bed, carried The Genuine Amours off in triumph to the far side of the room and settled on the stool next to her dressing table. Celia waited in dread as the girl opened the book to the bookmark and began to read aloud.
“A man who seeks pleasure in casual f… Oh my goodness. I can’t say that word!”
“Then don’t. Stop now.”
“Never! This is fascinating. He can never find it but in the senses, while he who has love on his side, is stretched on the rack of delight, by those able ministers of pleasure, passion and imagination.” She looked up. “That seems a proper sentiment. The author advocates the act of you-know-what only when love is present.”
“Believe me,” Celia said. “He does not practice what he preaches.”
Minerva read quickly down the page. “No, I can see that. Now he is engaging his master’s daughter. How very interesting. They are doing it outside on a downward slope. Listen to this. This posture greatly enhances the pleasure, as it admits of the most perfect entrance that possibly can be conceived of every inch of a prick.”
“Truly?” Celia asked, torn between interest and the conviction that Minerva should not be using words like “prick.” Not at least in that particular meaning of the word. “I didn’t get to that bit.”
“Where did you get this book?”
Celia blushed. “I believe it belongs to Tarquin.” She explained how she found it.
“I knew he collected books, but not this kind. I didn’t even know this kind of book existed. How fortunate that you found it. Finally I can learn something useful.” She flipped a page. “What do you suppose this means? A deluge of spermy rapture.”
There’s just no end to the trouble we historical writers will take to bring you an authentic story. Do you find the great lovers in romances credible? Or ask me a question about my researches and I’ll try to answer without getting the Word Wenches shut down.
Miranda has kindly offered to send an autographed copy of The Amorous Education of Celia Seaton to one lucky winner, who will be chosen at random from those who leave a comment below between now and Sunday morning.
Third picture from top and bottom picture courtesy of the Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection










What a fun blog posting! I look forward to reading the entire novel and perhaps even the original source material. I have always been a fan of Rowlandson's Amourous Etchings and _The Genuine and Remarkable Amours of the Late Peter Aretin_ seems like a perfect companion piece!
Posted by: Agnes Gawne | Saturday, August 06, 2011 at 10:30 AM
I love a well-researched book :) This one sounds like a lot of fun.
Posted by: Joan | Saturday, August 06, 2011 at 01:04 PM
This sounds good & it will be going on my wishlist!!
I'm glad to know it is well researched. In one way, I'm aware that the "realities" of historical romances are much different than what I read. They are somewhat sanitized for modern readers, but I think that I'm glad about it. Do I really want to read about the real challenges that people lived a hundred or more years ago? I want the truth, but I don't want it repeatedly shoved in my face!! Forever Amber opened my eyes to the time of the "Black Death" and I'm glad I read it & will re-read it again. Ms Windsor did an excellent job.
Posted by: Sue | Saturday, August 06, 2011 at 01:34 PM
OMG, I had a huge crush on Kurt Russell. My first kiss was with a guy who could have been a double for the 16 yr old Russell. My guy got upset because I wouldn't open my mouth. Never crossed my mind to slap him. I just enjoyed it so! A book I found in my grandmother's cabinet...Lady Chatterly's Lover, when I was a raw 13, titillated & tantilized me right into more raunchy and risque fantasies!! I wish I'd been in full bloom during the 60s so I could have enjoyed the full range of burning bras and free sex. Your research sounds fascinating and titillating! lol Older heroes who AREN'T experienced would worry me and I think it's easy to imply their expertise without making them sleazy. I'm impressed by the more recent proclivity to have heroines who have experienced sex and love. Life and sex goes round and round the same in all ages. Your research sounds fascinating and I thank you for sharing with us. I can't wait to read your book. I can't wait to do some of my own research.
Posted by: Debi | Saturday, August 06, 2011 at 01:39 PM
What a diverting post! Thanks for all you put into your research. I look forward to reading more.
Posted by: LSUReader | Saturday, August 06, 2011 at 03:02 PM
Your post had me reminiscing about HS, I discovered a Harold Robbins book and ended up underlining all the sexy parts and passing it around in French class as the teacher droned on about tenses. My innocent face kept anyone from suspecting it was me(haha). Maybe it is a right of passage that we have to learn something about sex from whatever porn is available to us in our younger years. I can't wait to start your Burgundy series Miranda, you already had me at the bibliophile aspect,the deal was sealed though with spermy rapture!
Posted by: Marie | Saturday, August 06, 2011 at 03:18 PM
Hi Dee. It's true about country living. On the other hand, I'm not sure all ladies spent much time in the barnyard or stable. I guess a writer can adjust circumstances to suit her story.
I think you are referring to the carriage scene in The Wild Marquis. LOL on the injury. Bit of artistic license on my part there, I freely admit.
Re. the previous post: just want to say that Joanna Bourne's post on baths was fascinating.
Annie: Thanks for the Chaucer inspiration! That's a great passage. What can I say: yes, it's hard to keep sex scenes fresh and different. I always concentrate as much as possible on the context of the encounter, so that the scene advances the relationship.
Maureen: some readers adore the rakish hero with hundreds of women in his past. I've never written a real rake, but I expect it would be a challenge.
Posted by: Miranda Neville | Sunday, August 07, 2011 at 07:35 AM
This sounds like a great read and I have heard a lot of good things about this book. I love humor in my books so I will be looking for this book. Thanks for sharing.
Posted by: Quilt Lady | Sunday, August 07, 2011 at 10:19 AM
Your excerpt gave me a good belly-laugh. Delicious! Just goes to show that from age to age, human nature doesn't change.
Posted by: Jennie Marsland | Sunday, August 07, 2011 at 12:17 PM
This sounds absolutely hilarious. I can't wait to read this book!
Posted by: Ashley | Monday, August 08, 2011 at 04:45 AM
I loved the first 2 books in this series and can't wait to read Tarquin's. Thanks for doing your research so we don't have to? That book sounds hilarious. I wonder if I could ever convince my best friend to alternate reading it aloud. :-)
Posted by: neurondoc | Tuesday, August 09, 2011 at 02:29 PM