Literary fiction is undergoing a sexual revolution, according to this article. Which makes you wonder what happened to all the pioneering PVC/tenterhook work Margaret Laurence did back in the day. Remember that version of the Stone Angel that had to be sold in an opaque wrapper?

Now, when whatever suits your fancy is easily found online, exploring intense or unusual sexuality has become the purview of commercial and even highbrow literary writers too. Tom Wolfe indulgently explored coed hookup culture in “I Am Charlotte Simmons.” Walter Mosley’s “sexistential novel,” “Killing Johnny Fry,” starts with sodomy and gets dirtier and darker from there. Later this year, Chuck Palahniuk will publish “Snuff,” about a female porn star’s attempt at a record for most sex partners in one day, partially told from the perspective of participant No. 600. Memoirists such as Catherine Millet and Toni Bentley aim at highbrow readers as they describe sex lives many wouldn’t dare imagine.