Editors Genevieve Field and Rufus Griscom, the media darlings behind what Time calls "soft-core sex and literati," explain "About a year ago, we set out to publish a magazine about sex. Not a magazine of porn or erotica...
We were less interested in sexual technique or fantasy and more interested in the subtleties of real sexual experience." Nice idea, but they should go ahead and say what Nerve really is: a cool way for young and urban martini-shaking swingers to be titillated and feel smart about it.
Too many of the pieces feel like unfinished "brilliant" ideas jotted down at 3am. Debra Boxer's confessions about being a virgin at age 28 could add a much-needed spark to the pages of Cosmo, should she ever decide to elaborate. Cammie Toloui's and Aaron James's first-person excursions as workers in the sex industry could be fleshed out into something quite intriguing (indeed, James, actually a pseudonym, recently inked a book deal).
Lisa Carver's essay "Some of My Best Friends Are Sensualists" is a hilarious and smart sort of reverse snob-ism against the touchy-feely type, but readers would be better served by seeking out the fantastic anthology of Carver's writings from her "Rollerderby" zine.
Surely included only for the marquee value, an 18-year-old Q&A with Norman Mailer is a good argument for quality over quantity. Mailer talks at length about jealousy, masturbation (he, in 1980, was against it) and breasts (he, in 1980, was very much for them). In the end, the reader is likely to peter out before Mailer has reached his climax; in the end, the thing could've used a judicious editor.
Maybe Nerve will one day fulfill Field's and Griscom's goal. Maybe one day the pair will really publish only writers who "discard the Lego sets of sexual cliché" (rather than just coming up with new ones). And maybe one year online is too soon to publish a book. Because there's just not enough good stuff here.
(Shelly Ridenour)
- Nerve:
Literate Smut
copyright 1998 New City Communications, Inc.