I’ve been interested in this book for a few years and was very keen to find out where the title had stemmed from when I started reading it.  Turns out that testicles look like eyeballs when both are popped out of their respective cubby holes, and our dear sweet Simone, fuck-buddy of the protagonist, likes to have both put and pressed into her sweet spots.

To say this surprisingly short story is about sex would be a wild understatement.  I’ve never seen a story so totally consumed with sexual frustration and profane acts, and I thought I’d seen it all after Peter Sotos’ Index.  Bataille’s first work is shocking, oddly stimulating and wholly imaginative as he studies and revels in the closeness of sex, violence, madness and death.  Still, no wonder he wrote it under a pseudonym.

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