Sex in Art: Porn or Nah?

I am a very open person. That sounded wrong, but this topic is meant to be risqué and to help all my misunderstood lovers of art and literature.

Allow me to start this off like a debate by defining some of my terms. First and most broad, art. Here I’m talking about anything from the media to canvas to written to music. From here we’re going to talk about sex. Yes. Sex. S-E-X. The thing that really makes babies. But this word in this piece will not be limited to oral, vaginal, or anal. Rather, it will encompass any sexual act or depiction in general. For example, a croquis drawing of two people sharing an intimate moment.

Now, I am a fan of controversy. I like reading, looking, and watching things that push boundaries to deliver meaningful and potent messages. As a striving artist myself, I feed off of these things. But does it mean that I’m “horny” or “into pornographic things” as many of my peers have accused me of? NO.

Following a (kind of?) standard essay format, I will now present my two arguments.


1. Haruki Murakami

Murakami is my favorite author and has been for a while. I have read three and a third of his books (still working on 1Q84…) And one aspect of his books is that there are quite a few sex scenes. However, a true reader will know why those scenes are often so important to Murakami’s style and even purpose in the books. On the other hand, a reader who does not take time to think about it will just say: “THIS IS AN EROTICA!” No. The sex scene is there to blur reality and highlight the abstraction within the novel. The metaphysical aspect, in fact, is often a core element in the plot of the books. To me it’s the perfect metaphor and juxtaposition for life. It’s something very human and natural, but also something meant to be almost gossamer and dreamlike. We are existing, but parts of our existence do not seem real.



2. “Blue is the Warmest Color”

Moving on. This is not my favorite movie, but I will agree that it is very impactful. “Blue is the Warmest Colour” is simply about a girl finding her sexuality. But one of the most alarming scenes is, of course, the seven minute long sex scene. Seven minutes! Even “Game of Thrones” doesn’t show that much detail in a single sex scene! But people! Is it really that bad? This movie is meant to inform the public about what it’s like being lesbian. It may be a film for the digestion of large society thus calling for some unrealistic elements; however, does it not kind of answer the question: how does lesbian sex work?” Well here you go! On top of that, it’s more meaningful that just sex because it’s about a girl who’s confused and just wants to find herself. Precisely like any adolescent in this world. The scene presented the characters and audience with a bit more insight and also an anticipation for how the rest of her bildungsroman with play out. It’s life. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Our world is becoming more liberal by the generation. I believe my generation (somewhere between Millenial, X,Y, and Z) have and will face the greatest clashes with the past. And the question arises, will those who do not really follow this generational trend choose to adapt or conform with the values of their parents or even grandparents? This is not to say that following either is a good or a bad thing. Your opinions are your opinions.

I merely wish that people would not see things like sex as controversial or ungodly especially in forms of art. It is a mechanism and it is up to the artist on how he or she would like to use it. In turn, it is the viewer’s job to really decipher it.

But I get it. It’s kind of uncomfortable especially when you’re young. So, here are some tips that helped me get over it. Say sex 5 times over. Then say it 10 times over. Just get used to saying it first. Then broaden your perspective by going to art galleries of every era, reading more, knowing your history, watching different kinds of films, just immersing yourself in culture. That’s it. Easy, right?



Sex in Art: Porn or Nah?

The Girl Named Raven

Haruki Murakami inspired.

“Are you ready?” she asks. The girl named Raven sat with immaculate posture besides me at a long, empty dining table. The dark, polished wood glistened under the yellow light of the crystal chandelier. I stared at her with a sly smirk on my face.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” my tone was almost challenging, if not mocking of her doubt in me.

“You always act so strong,” her voice was laced with venomous sweetness. “But that façade always gets you into trouble, doesn’t it?”

I merely shoot a glare. The girl named Raven really did know just how to push me the wrong way.

She ran her finger around and around the rim of her glass cup filled with red wine. Her finger was dampened with the liquid substance causing the glass to ring a high note throughout the room. The girl looked like royalty sitting the way she was. Legs crossed, upper body open, and a slender hand moving liberally.

“Life is not kind, dear,” she continued to say before scoffing. “I shouldn’t be giving such trite advice to a mundane girl like you. Girls like you need to learn by themselves.

But I’m too nice.

Listen, darling. You’re not all that you think you are. You say that you know that you have no purpose in this world when in reality, you think you do. You think you were put on this Earth for a reason because it makes you something.

But you’re not obligated to be anything. You don’t serve a purpose because you shouldn’t serve anything. 

Eighteen, huh? You don’t need to go through an emancipation process or… Don’t you get it? You’re free. So don’t be bound by anything. Not even a silly purpose.”

The girl named Raven took the cup into her palm and tipped it over into her lips. She downed half the glass in a single gulp, her eyes never leaving mine.

“I’m not doubting you,” she reassured. “In fact, I believe in you so much I could make a whole religion with you as my goddess.”

She rose from her seat and she walked around the shorter end of the dining table with her wine glass. I merely listened to her heels click against the floorboard. The girl named Raven stopped right beside me and crouched down and held the half full glass in front of my face.

“So, are you ready?” she asked once more.

I took the cup from away from her fingers and downed the last bit.


The Girl Named Raven