Is it just me, or is there more and more sweat in romance novels? I mean this both in terms of the sheer quantity of it and how soon it tends to appear in the proceedings. I’m sure there used to be small quantities that appeared late in the proceedings.
Not now.
Take two books I’ve read recently:
(1) The Tycoon’s Pregnant Mistress by Maya Banks
This one is a good example of how quickly sweat enters the agenda:
‘I want to touch you, Chrysander’ she said softly. She placed her palms on the top of his thick legs and smoothed them slowly upwards.
His eyes smoldered and sparked. ‘Then by all means, touch me, agape mou.’
With a little nervousness, she touched his male flesh and he jerked in reaction. Feeling a little bolder, she wrapped her fingers around the turgid length and stroked lightly.
A groan worked from his throat and she could see sweat beading on his brow.
The sweat appears before anything much has really happened at all here. She sits on him, touches his penis and suddenly he’s sweating?
I’m not sure if the suggestion here is that the sweat glands are physiologically connected to the hero’s penis or if they are psychologically linked to the hero’s self control. I suspect the latter given that a few sentences later, after the heroine has kissed his ‘taut abdomen’ and touched his ‘flat nipples’ he penetrates her with the epithet ‘You are killing me, pedhaki mou!’
Killing him?
(2) Untouched by Anna Campbell
This book seemed to have several references to sweat in every sex scene, leaving me with the impression of them practically wading it. Like here:
Lord Erith sprawled at Olivia’s side without speaking, his head buried in the pillow. She couldn’t see his face but his black hair was limp with perspiration and the bare skin of his back glistened…The air was sharp with sex and sweat.
And here:
Poignant tenderness filled her. Her hands began to play on his sweat-sheened back. He made a sound deep in his throat like a lion’s satisfied growl. When he buried his head in her shoulder, his damp hair pleasantly tickled the side of her neck… The room reeked of sweat and sex.
And here:
She opened tear-filled eyes to see him poised above her, his head flung back, his hair damp with sweat, his face taut…. His chest heaved as he struggled for air…His black hair was disheveled and a lock fell over his forehead. His clothes were crushed and damp with sweat.
These happen to be recent reads but it’s something I’ve noticed a lot over the last couple of years.
So is sweat: a turn on or off? Good writing should invoke all of senses, yes? So does a description of a hot and sweaty man make you think: Hmmmmmmm or yuuuuuuurrrrrrrrgh?
The science supports the turn-on theory. An experiment in 2000 asked female students to judge the looks of various men in pictures. The first time, this was done with no stimulants present. Then a cloth soaked in male sweat was placed in the room and the experiment repeated: men judged unattractive the first time were scored higher the second time around. Even those judged the least attractive in the first viewing benefited from a higher score.
But how does this translate to the reading experience? Speaking personally, if the writer is talking about the smell and look of sweat, I’m pretty cool with it. I think it probably does invoke the right senses and heighten the atmosphere for me. However, if the words concentrate overmuch on the feeling of wetness, I find it a lot less appealing. Funny isn’t it? Invoke one sense and I’m right there, invoke another and you lose me.
What do you think?
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#1 by Ann Somerville on June 15, 2009 - 8:21 pm
I’m of the ‘damp==sexy, dripping==eeuuw’ school of thought myself, whether it’s skin or penises
#2 by Carolyn Crane (CJ) on June 15, 2009 - 9:09 pm
You are so very clever, Tumperkin. I agree, the man’s hair limp with sweat–the view of it–was far more appealing than the passages where sweat was touched. Sweating as a sign of breaking-point self control feels like a cheat.
#3 by JenB on June 15, 2009 - 9:19 pm
I hate sweat! I don’t like anyone touching me when I’m sweaty and I don’t want to touch anyone who’s sweaty. I might not mind the smell of a sweaty guy, but I wouldn’t be rubbing all over him. Bleh.
And I don’t recall ever becoming sweaty just because a hot guy was looking at me with sexy eyes or touching my knee.
#4 by Ann Somerville on June 15, 2009 - 9:23 pm
“I don’t recall ever becoming sweaty just because a hot guy was looking at me with sexy eyes or touching my knee.”
No, *sweating* is definitely not the physiological response you’d be looking for in that case
#5 by JenB on June 15, 2009 - 9:25 pm
Ann – Right?? Seriously, in a really sexy scene, I’m thinking most of the moisture would *not* be on palms and foreheads. Just sayin’.
#6 by RfP on June 15, 2009 - 10:25 pm
No, no, no. What you’re missing is the Internal Struggle of the He Man Against the Essence of Love. ISHMAEL. When werewolves feel threatened, they get aggressive: they quiver and snarl and their follicles sprout hair. When alpha human males’ inner wolves are trapped by domesticity, they’re terrified: they quiver and snarl and their follicles drip sweat. ISHMAEL.
#7 by heidenkind on June 16, 2009 - 1:57 am
This post is freaking brilliant, imo. I haven’t consciously noticed an untoward amount of sweat in romance novels, but I was reading a book today where the hero encountered the remnants of the heroine’s magic (she’s a witch), and got turned on, and immediately started sweating. I was like, Huh? Especially since this is in Northern Scotland, where I think 70 deg. is considered sweltering.
I wouldn’t say sweat normally turns me on. You know that phrase, Never let them see you sweat… I prefer that. But I think saying the hero is getting all schweaty is better than going on and on about the scent of his male essence or something like that.
#8 by Laura Vivanco on June 16, 2009 - 3:26 am
I don’t really like to read about excessive amounts of sweat because unless the hero and heroine are engaging in particularly acrobatic sex and/or it’s very hot weather, I don’t think it makes sense, from a biological point of view, for them to sweat so much. Even if the smell is attractive, it’s quite possible for the armpits alone to generate enough of the scent. This trend, though, is the equivalent of dousing the hero in an entire bottle of “eau de male.”
From a symbolic point of view, though, it does makes sense. Heroes have always been bigger and better endowed physically than normal men. Now they sweat more, too. And this particular scent makes them smell as well as look hyper-masculine. In addition, as RfP says, it can also serve to demonstrate a hero’s response to a heroine: he’s ravenous for her, but he knows he must hold back, and the immense degree of self-control required is indicated by vast quantities of sweat popping out of him. Or, when he engages in sex, it’s the sweatiest as well as most orgasmic sex ever.
Personally, I’d prefer less sweaty symbolic hyperbole.
#9 by RfP on June 16, 2009 - 7:53 am
The sweatiest, most orgasmic, and most fertile sex ever, yes?
On the up side, anyone who sweats that much is probably a dab hand at changing sheets and doing laundry. And in titles such as The Trillionaire’s Private Dancer, maid service may well be included.
#10 by Laura Vivanco on June 16, 2009 - 7:59 am
RfP wrote:
Oh, of course. It’s the only way to ensure an endless supply of secret babies and cute offspring with which to embellish an epilogue.
#11 by jillsorenson on June 16, 2009 - 9:57 am
I’m not sure about “reeked.” A light sweat on clean skin can be very sexy, and shouldn’t have a strong smell?
#12 by Angela on June 16, 2009 - 2:12 pm
One of the things I find odd about much mainstream pornographer is the absence of sweat. There they are going at it like rabbits in the throes a biological imperative to continue the species and not only is nobody sweating but everyone’s hair is perfect. It’s weird. I mean they should at least be flushed by that point, right?
So I guess my point is I like it when romance novel characters sweat. I feel it makes them less like automatons and more like humans.
#13 by Tumperkin on June 16, 2009 - 2:53 pm
I wanted to find an example I could quote of my personally most hated sweat reference but couldn’t put my hands on one easily. But I know I’ve read it loads of times: it’s where the H/H’s bodies are sliding against one another with sweat. It’s just. not. that. appealing.
#14 by Jessica on June 16, 2009 - 5:47 pm
I’ve just used my Kindle to search for “sweat” in a few books. I found Erin McCarthy is a major offender in Flat Out Sexy, with 5 mentions of sweat during sex, such as this one, “when he pulled otu of her, sweat rolling down his back…”
Victoria Dahl, in Talk Me Down, has 5 sweat references, but only three related to sex, like this one, “Make me scream”, A drop of sweat snaked down his temple. “I can’t” he managed to say.
Our very own Jill Sorenson has 11 references to sweat in Crash Into Me, although it must be said that some are to clothing and, it being rom suspense, most are genuine terror inspired. But, there is this: “Sweat broke out on his forehead as he imagined pushing her back against the seat…”
But how about one of yours truly’s favorite historical authors, Julie Ann Long? Oops, no fewer than 10 sweat references in Like No Other Lover, such as this one, “her nightdress fused to her shoulder blades with sweat”, or this one, “He glistened with sweat; he smelled male.”, or this: “It cost him everything he had not to obey it. Sweat beaded.”
How about paranormal? too easy, you say? You’d be right. Lairssa Ione wins with 13 references to sweat in Desire Unchained, like this one, “A sheen of sweat broke out on her skin” (in the middle of you know what.) Although, as with rom suspense, many of these are to “cold sweat”, not even sexy to demons.
#15 by jillsorenson on June 17, 2009 - 6:19 pm
11 sweat references! I suppose I should be embarrassed. Guilty again, hee.
#16 by Jessica on June 17, 2009 - 7:30 pm
But romantic suspense get a pass — so many of your references were to “cold sweat” — totally right for the subgenre — not the sexy kind Tumperkin’s post is about!
#17 by Sherry Thomas on June 18, 2009 - 3:34 am
Aha. My characters don’t sweat. Or rather, maybe they do, but I don’t think it’s necessary to mention. I could not read past 50 pages of The Birth of Venus because every time the male protagonist made an appearance, the heroine noted his terrible odor.
I did want to pimp Meredith Duran’s Written On Your Skin, which had a passage with sweat mentioned that I liked. Not a love scene, btw.
#18 by jillsorenson on June 18, 2009 - 3:56 pm
Well, I like sexy sweat, too. As long as foul odors don’t come with it. Profuse, slippery sweat might be a bit too much.
But I agree with Carolyn–sweat, like many other often-used descriptors, can be used as a shortcut for fear, arousal, loss of control.
#19 by willaful on June 21, 2009 - 1:39 am
Oh, you’ve gone and done it now. I am finding sweat references in EVERY ROMANCE I READ – they now stand out like a bloomin’ beacon. Older books as well as more recent. Thank you so bloody much.
#20 by Kate Diamond on June 25, 2009 - 3:40 pm
Oh, this makes me think of “Welcome to Temptation.” Crusie’s heroine, Sophie, wants to be “beautifully moist” while she’s having sex. And then her sister accuses her of wanting to have sex in the movies, not real sex.
Then, when she actually tries the “Phallic Variation” with the hero, they are both absolutely drenched, the room is muggy, and–if I’m recalling this correctly–his pillow talk consists of promising to buy an air conditioner.
LOVED IT.