idle hands

For my first IFDB review, it seems appropriate that I should respond to one of the rare pieces of fiction that has been written specifically for a reader like me.

By that I mean, Idle Hands recognizes the kind of androgynous/masculine allure inherent to the cultural figure of the devil, without conflating interest in that as necessarily also a desire for non-consent or torture. The writing style here is sexually explicit, as advertised, but also feels cozy and wholesome without fully abandoning the vague undercurrent of threat that is essential in drawing one toward something marked as “evil” in the first place.

The main dynamic element of the piece is a series of “hover-reveal” links. When you hover over these, new text is revealed, which vanishes again if you move the cursor off of the link. The “reveal” aspect of the link mirrors what is happening in the scene. For instance, the devil makes a show of removing his glove for you, such that the reveal of more text precisely mimics the reveal of a hand. The hover aspect also implicates the reader in this intimacy by making touch (of the cursor) the way to reveal the more intense/romantic details that in-universe would be accomplished through actual physical contact. By hovering over the links, the reader moves closer to the devil in a tactile sense, and pulling away loses sight of those same details. It makes those furtive moments more precious. You cannot hold onto more than one of them at a time. You cannot have everything at once. But, you are nonetheless invited to partake at different sites for these ephemeral moments of connection. The devil understands his power, clearly, in providing satisfaction that is by its nature temporary.

Idle Hands was submitted to the “Neo-Twiny Jam” (2023) which has the requirement that the story be written in 500 or fewer words. This has some significant implications that are relevant thematically to the work. I first thought about how disappointing it is that the scope is not greater—I would love to go on a grander adventure in exploring the world of this text. Finally, a work that gets me! How is there so little of it?

But thinking about it more, because this is a piece about the experience of craving, the impact of the piece would probably be lessened if there was a lot more of it. That is, I suppose, the genius of adhering to something like a 500-word limit, no matter how frustrating I find flash fiction. Thinking about a creep in scope, the more that specificity of the point-of-view character would be allowed to develop, the more chances for a reader to become unbound from that character realizing it was “someone else” and not really them. While ordinarily I prefer when works are about someone specific as the point-of-view character, here it works greatly to the advantage of the immersion of the piece to avoid that.

There is a focus on precision of language that would be much more difficult to sustain over a longer work. I enjoyed the writing style, which retains the clarity and approachability of prose while infusing a poetic level of attention to detail, a balance that I found effective. Similarly, the UI is polished, a cozy box that really emphasizes intimate attention between the reader and the devil, with each of those under 500 words gaining so much importance because of that attention. I felt welcomed into a space where I could focus on what is truly important in life: thirsting for the devil.

My advice to potential readers would be: pay attention to the content warnings. My guess is, you probably already know whether or not you want to read sexually explicit content about the devil!

If you don’t, stick to your virtues.

And if you do? Subsume.

A very graphic and erotic description of two bodies coming together. The writing, as always, is excellent.
The use of a mouse over macro (to reveal hidden words) is akin to the hands discovering new skin and crease of a body, making the interactivity even more topical.
Really enjoyed this short piece.

These are the three words that keep popping into my head as I read and re-read idle hands, a game about "idolatrous devil-fucking". I keep coming back to this title, not just for its erotic prosody, but for the way it taps into the modern world's complicated relationship with religious customs and symbols.

Its epigram and namesake seem to originate from Proverbs 16:27 in The Living Bible:

Idle hands are the devil’s workshop; idle lips are his mouthpiece.

Other translations like the King James do not mention the devil, rather preferring to describe an "ungodly man [who] diggeth up evil" and his lips "a burning fire". They are certainly clearer about its messaging, but they don't evoke the kind of tantalizing imaginary that the game needs.

What is so inspiring about this particular translation is that it evokes a taboo, a possible transgression for the player to seek their desires.

The player reads how the devil caresses their character, the way his hands slide over their body, and the intricate movements that titillate both him and the player character. No backstory or character motivation exists: we just read what the devil's idle hands do to the player character. There's pleasure in treating religion as erotic and erotic as religion.

But we know that this is "wrong". Its wrongness is sexy, though. I'm not into most men, not especially the way the devil is described, but I was thrilled to see him reach into regions so private and intimate to me. His seduction is so successful that I drop any religious pretense and feel as if I have surrendered to his words and actions.

I wonder if people in the future will find this erotic. It's hard to say what kind of future we're entering, but suppose we're entering a more secular, atheistic future or a future that is quite theocratic, would this still have the same kind of power it had over me? I'm sure people will appreciate what Sophia is writing -- it has a timeless quality -- but I feel that its erotic qualities are too "dated" for future earthlings to appreciate. They reflect, I think, a lot of people's qualms about religion and symbols at the moment: even agnostics know a thing or two about Jesus and Krishna. The ambivalence modern society has toward religion is what I think that makes this work so erotic for me right now. Our inability to reach a consensus on how we should think about religious customs really speaks to our times, and more importantly, it gives us a space to explore, transgress, love, and despise the many facets of religion -- something people from the future may never get.

For now, idle hands is an excellent work of erotica for our times. The prose and the symbolism it possesses are able to seduce me and make me think about why I thought the devil was so sexy. He provoked my imagination in a way I didn't know I had: a quasi-religious one that I wanted to cross and feel his devilish touch. Even my strong adherence to agnosticism must admit that I was seduced by his idle lips.