Book Review: Pornucopia by Piers Anthony






Title: Pornucopia





Author: Piers Anthony





Publisher: Amereon, Limited





Publication Date:  June 1st, 1989





Genres: Fantasy, Erotica





Shelves: Female-dominant





Even if Pornucopia weren't already legendary as one of the best/worst examples of Piers Anthony's more eccentric tales, that "picaresque black comedy that transgresses all bounds of everyday good taste" tagline would be enough to guarantee me a read.





You know what? It's actually a pretty good read. Off-the-wall, incredibly fucked-up bizarre, and ridiculously pornographic, it initially seems rather dated, but it's actually quite progressive (and weirdly prescient of contemporary fetish erotica) for a book that's now 30 years old.





I won't even try to recap the plot, because to do so would be more than futile. This is one of those books where the story is in the telling, and the details are everything. Suffice to say, it opens with a gender-changing succubus/incubus assuming ownership of Prior Gross on the beach, which leads to forced impregnation and STD experimentation. And then it gets really fucking weird. There's the recycling of sexual fluids between a satyr and a succubus/incubus (building to a messy finale), the series of increasingly larger and more bizarre detachable erections (including a three-pronged prehensile beast), the anal smuggling of demon eggs across dimensions (which is a fetish all its own), a garden of erotic statues (with a decidedly hardcore bestiality theme), and . . . well, that's about the halfway mark, so you can probably it gets even weirder when the aliens get involved.





Pornucopia is hardly high literature. It's juvenile in its humor, pubescent in its pornography, and far too self-indulgent for most reader's tastes. In fact, it's in poor taste more often than not, and there are no lines that Piers Anthony is afraid to cross. And you know what? I fucking love it. This is an author allowing himself to run wild, to indulge the creepiest, kinkiest, wildest corners of his imagination, without a care for what critics or editors might think. As a contemporary piece of self-published erotic fiction, it would be pretty damned entertaining, but as a work that predates the World Wide Web, it's pretty fucking amazing.





These are words I never thought I'd say, but bring on The Magic Fart!





Rating: ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀






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