Eu não quero fazer um post panfletário. Acho que este é um post 'exemplificação'. Um pequeno exemplo de uma mania abominável de editoras brasileiras em 'suavizarem' certos livros.
Eu não sou contra versões 'suavizadas' de estórias. Não, acho até interessante para quem não gosta de ler erótica e /ou violência. Porém, acho que se uma versão for 'suavizada' isso deve ser exposto ao leitor na capa do livro (como naquelas versões infantis de clássicos, onde vemos 'baseado em tal livro'). É mais justo e, principalmente, mais honesto. Mas, além disso, penso que a versão ORIGINAL e SEM CORTES da obra também deva ser lançada.
Eu tenho o DIREITO de ler uma versão sem cortes. Eu sou maior de idade e se eu quiser ler erótica em português eu deveria ter acesso a isso. Claro, muita gente não gosta de uma estória mais apimentada- mas isso quer dizer que, por que muita gente não gosta EU também sou obrigada a não gostar?
Eu quero não ter que apelar para pockets (ou até mesmo versões portuguesas e espanholas) para poder ler um livro na íntegra.
Eu não estou só falando de cenas eróticas e/ou violência- alguns livros têm cenas 'comuns' retiradas em suas versões brasileiras. Os livros Avassalador e Fora da Lei, ambos da Diana Palmer são dois exemplos desta 'prática'. Quem leu Avassalador no original (ou no EB traduzido por fãs) com certeza se espantou ao perceber que a cena do supermercado em que aparece Cash Grier foi simplesmente cortada na versão 'oficial' brasileira. E depois reclamam dos ebooks, das traduções por fãs.
Eu quero livros sem cortes. Sem suavizações. Com as cenas de sexo, violência e palavrões. Do jeito que o autor originalmente escreveu.
Isso é querer demais?
Abaixo um exemplo de cena HOT (primeiro, na versão original e depois na versão brasileira).
ATENÇÃO: trecho com conteúdo sexual/erótico.
Love Lessons- Cheryl Holt
James stood in front of her, naked, fully aroused, and unashamed of his virility. His male beauty was irresistible, and without pausing to decide the wisest course, she nuzzled her face against the bristly hair surrounding his privates. When James desired her like this, demanding gratification, she simply couldn't deny him.
Whatever animosity remained, whatever issues still separated them, they could resolve their problems later. For now there was only this extraordinary rush of sensation.
Rooting and nestling along his abdomen, she filled her hand with his erect cock, relishing the throb of his elevated pulse through the eddy of enlarged veins. She cupped his balls, caressing the tender sacs. He groaned his approval, and she rewarded him by drawing him into her mouth.
His taste was so intense, a concoction of sweat and man designed especially to inflame her. Automatically, his hips began flexing in the rhythm she enjoyed so much. His hand was at the back of her head, steadying her, and she eagerly complied with his directions, taking as much of him as she could, his satisfaction serving only to increase her own.
The tip of his phallus oozed with his sexual juice, and her level of anticipation grew. During their prior night of loving, he'd refused to spill himself in her mouth, insisting she wasn't ready, but she knew how greatly he welcomed completion in this fashion, and she hoped he would allow her to pleasure him to the end.
But just as she concluded that this would be the occasion she would endure all, he pulled away and settled her against the pillows. His superb, heavy body pushed her into the mattress, the hair on his chest and legs rubbing against her and causing her to writhe with anticipation.
He didn't kiss her, which disappointed her terribly, but she didn't complain. In his current state, she couldn't predict how he might react, so she forced herself to be content with whatever he chose to share.
With his mouth at her nipples, he labored over her, sucking formidably, inducing her to thrash and struggle against the fierce stimulation. Never stationary, he touched her everywhere: shoulders, arms, breasts, stomach. He clutched at her pantaiet and ripped it away, throwing the swatch of red silk on the floor. Then his fingers were inside her, rough and determined, and her hips instinctively thrust in the carnal tempo he set.
He traveled slowly down her stomach, blazing a stormy trail and spurring her to open for him. Licking at her clit, delving into the folds, be buried himself, lapping at her saturated cleft,and he reveled in her flavor as though imprinting it into his very soul.
She wanted to come, she needed to come, but he left her hanging on an appalling cliff of exhilaration, begging and pleading for more.
He kneed her legs apart, then grabbed her thighs, the crest ofhis erect staff at her center, and he hesitated, staring at the spot where their private parts were barely joined, his swollen cock intense and eager, her blond hairs coaxing him in.
Clasping at her hips, he said, "I am going to fuck you so hard.”
"Yes, James," she urged, far beyond the point where she would disagree with him about anything. "Whatever you want... please.. ."
"Never forget," he declared, "that I was the first. The only one."
He immersed himself, his reckless member impaling her so ferociously that it felt like a punishment, but it was chastisement she craved. She arched and widened, giving him all the access he could stand. His hips pounded like the pistons of a huge machine, the impact of his momentum propelling her across the bed until she was shoved into the headboard. Grappling to stabilize herself, she gripped the edge, holding on while she received more of his brutal invasion.
She was stretched to breaking, his cock battering her with each incursion, yet he didn't ease up, nor did she want him to. This frantic, savage coupling was so very distinct from what she'd fantasized might occur that she hoped they never reached the conclusion. There was something so joyous about how desperately James appeared to lust after her that she was almostfrightened by his intensity.
Perspiration pooled on his brow; his pelvis buffeted hers. His heart was thumping so stridently that she could see it beating against his ribs. He braced himself on either side of her shoulders, his muscles corded with tension, his fists gripping the pillows. From his level of agitation, she recognized that he'd arrived at the pinnacle where he'd spill his seed. At the last second, when he would have stolen his sexual emission from her, she wrapped her feet around his calves, her arms around his back, and she held him as tightly as she could.
With tortured surprise, he glared down at her, but it was much toolate to expect that he could hold off. He plunged deep, deeper than it seemed possible to go, then he emptied himself, and she encountered the flaming spray of his semen against her womb.
Closing her eyes, she whispered a small prayer: Please God, let us have made a babe.
For that single moment, she didn't care about the future, about Society, its mores, stigmas, or the ultimate disgrace she might bring down upon her family. She was simply a woman who had been thoroughly loved by the man of her dreams, and her body was crying out for the natural consequence to transpire.
With a final, feral submersion, he shuddered and collapsed, his forehead resting on her bosom, his fiery breath spewing across her sweat-soaked skin. As he gradually relaxed, she used the opportunity to calm herself.
Surely, after all that, he'd have purged his animosity and frustration!
She waited for him to speak, but to her dismay he said nothing, and when he shifted away, he had an unreadable expression on his face. It scared her. She'd been so certain that she would finally behold the love burning in his eye once again. Anxiously, she wet her bottom lip, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a semblance of a smile. Her heart ached. He was so beautiful when he smiled.
Gracing her with a chaste kiss, he said, "I shouldn't have finished that way." He shrugged. "I'm always more careful. I'm sorry for my lack of control."
A mesma cena, agora na versão brasileira:
Encontros Secretos (Love Lessons) – Cheryl Holt [ Sabrina Sensual, Ed. Nova Cultural]
James se postou em frente à Abigail completamente nu. A beleza masculina era irresistível. Sem pensar sobre a decisão certa a tomar, ela se inclinou para frente, afundando o rosto no abdome musculoso. Quaisquer problemas que ainda os separassem seriam discutidos mais tarde. A virilidade excitado de James deixava evidente o quanto ele a desejava. E aqui era tudo que importava no momento.
No minuto seguinte, Abigail se encontrava deitada sobre lençol de cetim, cativa sob os braços musculosos do homem amado. As mãos fortes pareciam estar por todos os cantos d seu corpo. Ele a tocava de forma possessiva e sem reserva No entanto não a beijava, o que a deixou bastante frustrado. Mas ela não reclamou. Não sabia qual seria a reação de James.
Sem lhe dar tempo para pensar, ele a instigava com toque das mãos e da língua, levando-a ao limite máximo da excitação.
Quando Abigail estava quase suplicando para que James possuísse, sentiu as pernas serem apartadas e o corpo viril ser postar entre elas. Mas antes de penetrá-la, ele a fitou com olhar possessivo.
— Vou fazer sexo com você como nunca fiz antes.
— Sim... James... — ofegou Abigail, afastando ainda mais as pernas num convite explícito.
— Tudo que você quiser.
— Quero que se lembre para sempre de que fui seu primeiro homem. — Dizendo isso, projetou o corpo para frente, penetrando-a com um único e brusco movimento.
Abigail lutou por ar, enquanto os movimentos de James iam se intensificando. A cada vez que ele arremeda seu corpo con¬tra o dela, parecia submergir mais fundo. Abigail cravava as unhas nas costas largas, como se segurando a uma tábua de salvação. Aquela união quase selvagem ultrapassava todas as expectativas dela.
Ao perceber o próprio clímax se aproximar, James retroce¬deu, como sempre fazia, para evitar uma possível gravidez, mas Abigail também percebeu o ápice iminente e enlaçou o corpo másculo com as pernas, prendendo-o junto a si e entre¬gando-se ao próprio êxtase. Ele a fitou, surpreso, mas era tarde demais para controlar a própria natureza.
Cerrando as pálpebras, Abigail elevou uma prece aos Céus: Deus faça com que eu fique grávida.
Naquele instante, não conseguia pensar em nada mais mag¬nífico que lhe pudesse acontecer. Não importava a opinião da sociedade, da família ou dos amigos. Era apenas uma mulher apaixonada pelo homem de seus sonhos.
James afundou a face no colo macio, e Abigail esperou que se externasse sua fúria. Mas quando James rolou para o lado, trazia estampada no rosto uma expressão indefinível. Em se¬guida, James se ergueu e recolheu as roupas, apressado.
— Não planejava ter finalizado dessa maneira — disse dan¬do de ombros. — Geralmente, sou mais cuidadoso. Desculpe-me pela falta de controle.
***
Pois é.
