But when it comes to sexual acts at the expense of the young, do novelists have any more right than others to self-indulge? Of course, statistics prove that that isn’t so.įiction plays with these ideas, mirroring our double standards, our moral blindnesses and avoidances. Some parts of the feminist movement have resisted the very idea, convinced that paedophilia is all about male power: if a woman offends, some have insisted, it can be only at the instigation of a man. The thought that the natural caretaking gender, the gender equipped for motherhood, could on occasion be guilty too seems to society even further beyond the pale. For another, the public gaze is skewed towards male offences against girls, glossing over women’s capacity for such forbidden acts. For one thing, these days some young people mature physically – and, it could be argued, emotionally – younger and younger: at an age that no longer synchronises incontestably with the years of a legal minor (at least in some cultures and communities). But delve, and the notion of what constitutes sexual abuse of children is a slippery beast, given modern-day, convoluted realities. Horror of paedophilia is everywhere – most would say rightly.
