News
New Look For The Erotic Review
After over a decade our magazine web site is being brought up to date. Now running on the latest version of WordPress on a super efficient server. This is very much a work in progress, so please bear with us while these essential changes are being made: there will be a few glitches while we adjust and fine-tune. We are still having an issue with our authors’ names, but slowly (and somewhat painfully and laboriously) we are putting this right.
What’s New
Britain? You’re Welcome To It…
by Bruce AbrahamsMy father was born in 1904 to Russian-Jewish refugee parents. They had fled one of the repeated and murderous Russian and Eastern European pogroms carried out in the latter half of the nineteenth century. The following year Britain enacted its first real immigration legislation with the Aliens Act. This had been specifically drafted to deal with the Jewish migrations. Prior to that there was no official barrier to migrants and the country had received, (though without enthusiasm) the Huguenots in the C16th and the Irish following the famines. We managed to accommodate thousands of Poles and Hungarians in the post-war, Cold War 1950s and Ugandan Asians in the 1960s – though again to popular disapproval.
Fiction
A Young God
by Rowena MacdonaldLaura washed her hands and stared into the mirror of her parent’s bathroom. Her face was tense and sleep-deprived. The smell of Imperial Leather soap suddenly transported her back fifteen years, to the seventies, her teenage years. As a teenager she had spent a lot of time observing her reflection in this mirror, wondering if she was pretty enough. A white hair in her fringe snapped her back to the present. She plucked it out and examined the skin around her eyes. Crow’s feet, or the beginnings of them, at least. She pulled up her t-shirt and examined her stomach. Puckered and soft, like a deflated balloon. Since having Colm she had definitely aged.
Reviews
Britain? You’re Welcome To It…
by Bruce AbrahamsMy father was born in 1904 to Russian-Jewish refugee parents. They had fled one of the repeated and murderous Russian and Eastern European pogroms carried out in the latter half of the nineteenth century. The following year Britain enacted its first real immigration legislation with the Aliens Act. This had been specifically drafted to deal with the Jewish migrations. Prior to that there was no official barrier to migrants and the country had received, (though without enthusiasm) the Huguenots in the C16th and the Irish following the famines. We managed to accommodate thousands of Poles and Hungarians in the post-war, Cold War 1950s and Ugandan Asians in the 1960s – though again to popular disapproval.
Love & Sex
Talk to Me, Baby
by Karin JonesI once dated a man as generous with his compliments as a sailor is with his swear words. Granted, he was English, which made every word sound as though he were channeling James Bond. Regardless of the dubiousness of his proclamations, (“You have the ass of a fourteen year old boy.”) every adulation made my heart glow. Another man I came to adore wrote letters (with a pen!) and left little notes of endearment in my medicine cabinet and underwear drawer. I fell hard for that one, which led to a full-on face plant when those words slowed to a trickle and eventually dried up all together.
Galleries
Lockdown Love Letters
by Josie BeszantI am a collage and assemblage artist with a strong interest in storytelling.
I have worked as an artist for 30 years, as well as teaching art and running a gallery in the Yorkshire Dales where I am based.
I exhibit and sell nationally and internationally, and my work appears in public collections in New Zealand, France and America. In 2019 I was selected for the publication: Collage By Women: 50 Essential Collage Artists.
My latest series of collages, Lockdown Love Letters, are a reflection on the erotic and sensual in a time of a global pandemic.
Articles
Puppy Love
by Emily Ingram
When we talk about the depiction of sex in Britain before, say, the second World War, the visions are of starched collars coupled with a very prim and prudish morality. In fact, the truth is quite different.