I.
I don't know if the erotic fascination with sharks, or selachophilia as I imagine it's known, is recognised as a distinct subclass of zoophilia, but I'm guessing that it must be pretty rare to want to sexually engage a great white or hammerhead.*
Dolphins, I can see the attraction of and have, in fact, previously written here on delphinophilia. I am sympathetic also to those who, like Troy McClure, have a thing for fish and have posted too on the subject of icthyophilia.
But getting jiggy with Jaws seems to me to be taking things a bit too far - by which I mean moving into the realm of pure fantasy, not overstepping some kind of moral boundary. Indeed, the only case of a human-shark relationship that I know of is found in Lautréamont's great poetic novel Le Chants de Maldoror (1868-69).
Dolphins, I can see the attraction of and have, in fact, previously written here on delphinophilia. I am sympathetic also to those who, like Troy McClure, have a thing for fish and have posted too on the subject of icthyophilia.
But getting jiggy with Jaws seems to me to be taking things a bit too far - by which I mean moving into the realm of pure fantasy, not overstepping some kind of moral boundary. Indeed, the only case of a human-shark relationship that I know of is found in Lautréamont's great poetic novel Le Chants de Maldoror (1868-69).
II.
The Songs of Maldoror is a queer gothic study of a misanthropic and misotheistic protagonist who, like a Sadean libertine, renounces conventional morality and devotes himself to a life of evil. Its transgressive, experimental, and often absurd style both anticipated and influenced Surrealism; Dalí was such a fan that he even illustrated an edition of the work.
Each of the 60 chapters (or verses) can be read independently and in isolation, as there seems to be no narrative continuity or even any direct relationship between events. One strange episode simply follows another, as if in a dream or nightmare.
Having said that, there are certain common themes and recurrent images and there's also a noticeably large number of animals passing through the work, who seem to be admired by Maldoror for their nonhumanity and inhumanity.
One of these animals is the female shark with whom he copulates in this memorable, rather charming passage:
"They look into each other's eyes for some minutes, each astonished to find such ferocity in the other's eyes. They swim around keeping each other in sight, and each one saying to themselves: 'I have been mistaken; here is one more evil than I.' Then by common accord they glide towards one another underwater, the female shark using its fins, Maldoror cleaving the waves with his arms; and they hold their breath in deep veneration, each one wishing to gaze for the first time upon the other, his living portrait. When they are three yards apart they suddenly and spontaneously fall upon one another like two lovers and embrace with dignity and gratitude, clasping each other as tenderly as brother and sister. Carnal desire follows this demonstration of friendship. Two sinewy thighs press tightly against the monster's flesh [...] arms and fins are clasped around the beloved object, while their throats and breasts soon form one glaucous mass amidst the exhalations of the sea-weed [...] and rolling on top of one another down into the unknown deeps, they joined in a long, chaste and ghastly coupling!"
Whether, technically, it would be possible for a human male to sexually penetrate the body of a female shark, I don't know: a penis isn't quite the same as a clasper and a cloaca not quite as welcoming as a mammalian vagina. Still, you never know until you try I suppose: however, any would-be lovers should be warned - sharks play rough ...
The Songs of Maldoror is a queer gothic study of a misanthropic and misotheistic protagonist who, like a Sadean libertine, renounces conventional morality and devotes himself to a life of evil. Its transgressive, experimental, and often absurd style both anticipated and influenced Surrealism; Dalí was such a fan that he even illustrated an edition of the work.
Each of the 60 chapters (or verses) can be read independently and in isolation, as there seems to be no narrative continuity or even any direct relationship between events. One strange episode simply follows another, as if in a dream or nightmare.
Having said that, there are certain common themes and recurrent images and there's also a noticeably large number of animals passing through the work, who seem to be admired by Maldoror for their nonhumanity and inhumanity.
One of these animals is the female shark with whom he copulates in this memorable, rather charming passage:
"They look into each other's eyes for some minutes, each astonished to find such ferocity in the other's eyes. They swim around keeping each other in sight, and each one saying to themselves: 'I have been mistaken; here is one more evil than I.' Then by common accord they glide towards one another underwater, the female shark using its fins, Maldoror cleaving the waves with his arms; and they hold their breath in deep veneration, each one wishing to gaze for the first time upon the other, his living portrait. When they are three yards apart they suddenly and spontaneously fall upon one another like two lovers and embrace with dignity and gratitude, clasping each other as tenderly as brother and sister. Carnal desire follows this demonstration of friendship. Two sinewy thighs press tightly against the monster's flesh [...] arms and fins are clasped around the beloved object, while their throats and breasts soon form one glaucous mass amidst the exhalations of the sea-weed [...] and rolling on top of one another down into the unknown deeps, they joined in a long, chaste and ghastly coupling!"
Whether, technically, it would be possible for a human male to sexually penetrate the body of a female shark, I don't know: a penis isn't quite the same as a clasper and a cloaca not quite as welcoming as a mammalian vagina. Still, you never know until you try I suppose: however, any would-be lovers should be warned - sharks play rough ...
Notes
* There are probably significantly more people who fantasise about being attacked and eaten by a shark, but that's an entirely different kettle of fish; that is to say, whilst vorarephilia has an erotic element to it, it's not the same as wishing to fuck what used to be known by sailors as a sea dog.
Le Comte de Lautréamont, Maldoror and Poems, trans. Paul Knight, (Penguin Books, 1978). The passage quoted is in Part II, Chapter 13, pp. 111-112.
* There are probably significantly more people who fantasise about being attacked and eaten by a shark, but that's an entirely different kettle of fish; that is to say, whilst vorarephilia has an erotic element to it, it's not the same as wishing to fuck what used to be known by sailors as a sea dog.
Le Comte de Lautréamont, Maldoror and Poems, trans. Paul Knight, (Penguin Books, 1978). The passage quoted is in Part II, Chapter 13, pp. 111-112.
If we're going to indulge this weird fantasy then I think more consideration needs to be given to the interaction between human and shark. Apparently you can put a shark in a catatonic state by rubbing it's nose. There's loads of videos on YouTube of people posing with upside down sharks resting on their fingertips. I'm sure Marcuse could offer some interesting explanations as to the pleasure of such acts given his observations on dentists (anesthesia and pain).
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