There’s an old adage that I think we are all familiar with: sex sells. But is there a particular sex that sells better than others? Is there certain imagery that we find too left to be—at least outwardly—drawn towards?

I am not ashamed to admit that I have always had some sort of animal magnetism for Leopold von Sacher-Masoch’s book, “Venus in Furs.” I would surmise that many people would if they knew about this little gem of a writing that single-handedly birthed the term and the concept of masochism.

Masoch’s book highlights what has been called, the cruelty of woman. More specifically,it depicts the power of some women to absolutely transfix a man with an erotic hypnosis. It is this erotic hypnosis, in turn, that causes him to have clinical desires for her—a woman who, despite recognizing the man’s addiction to her entire being, callously denies him. It is through this denial, further, that the man comes to learn suffering and through that suffering, attains pleasure.

The tragic hero in the novel, Severin, comes to develop this masochistic tendency and absolute immersion into the hypnosis that may be caused by a woman through a cold stone statute in an unkempt garden. He literally falls in love with what is a stone-cold woman. She is incapable of returning his affections. She is incapable of accepting or acting upon the intense love he is thrusting upon her. Severin professes that this statute, a woman wearing nothing but furs, is “the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I love her madly,passionately, with feverish intensity, as one can only love a woman who responds to one with a petrified smile, ever calm and unchanging. I adore her absolutely. . . . Often at night I pay a visit to my cold, cruel beloved;clasping her knees, I press my face against her cold pedestal and I worship her.” Through this idolatry and pain, Severin gains erotic pleasure.

When Severin kneels at the feet of this woman, he perceives to sense her anger. When he sees the bridling of the furs she is wearing, she gives him some sort of identity, an identity that allows the woman to trample upon him.

This intensely erotic work isn’t only appealing to sexually repressed English majors. It has now become a play on the Classic Stage Company in New York. In fact, David Ives’ new work, “Venus in Furs,” tracks the emergence of masochism and challenges the audience to experience this play about the power of the powerless and the empowering. It essentially reinvents the traditional roles of what is sexy and attempts to push the boundaries of the adage, “sex sells.” Will this kind of sex sell? For David Ives’ sake, I hope it does; if only because he is brave enough, perhaps masochistic enough, to stage it.