Lady Gay Spanker in this first attempt at writing a small volume of tales, for the amusement of herself, friends, and readers, wishes it to be understood that she has written nothing but really true stories, and tried to relate them in a genuine, realistic manner.
Realism is the fad of the present; male and female authors seem to vie with each other in outraging prudery, but they all stop and draw the curtain, just as they ought to go on; it is simply like offering the rough outside of a pine-apple, whilst the delicious interior is left untouched; it is brutal, bordering on the obscene; our teeth are set on edge, without being satisfied.
Perhaps this truly realistic volume may be better appreciated, and the authoress trusts her friends will agree her that actual realism is beautiful, enjoyable, whilst the half-and-half stuff of authors who have not the courage to put the finishing touches to scenes of love and voluptuousness, is simply unfit to lay upon the family table, and not good enough to read with, our most intimate friends.
One often puzzles to think what kind of women, many the new lady authoresses may be; but, perhaps that question, is solved by the quaint remark of a gentleman who escorted me to see one of Ibsen's plays at the Independent Theatre; in reply to some observation of mine respecting the ladies of the audience "They do fuck"!
If it is so, all I can say is.
"Honi soit qui mal y pense." [Let they think evil who may]