Long before Cassill retired to become the Erskine Caldwell writer-in-residence at an Eastern university, Anthony Burgess, always a far better critic, said that ""Pornography is harmless so long as we do not mistake it for literature."" The next question is whether anyone confuses it with entertainment, now that the Geis-zeit of five years ago has come to an end and the porn no longer seems green. Anyway, quickly, this is about Dean Goss, a stud-mentor-artist of 70 whose second wife died young and left him with a penchant for the jeune fille just about en fleur. He's been painting young girls, among them Tamisan, the daughter of Susan who is writing his biography. But Tamasin, after a falling out with Goss, runs away with Goss' son Jason, becomes pregnant, and returns after the child is stillborn to share Goss with her mother -- last question -- will Cassill again be the object of the kind of lucubration (good academic word even if you have to look it up) after writing lines such as ""Desires chirped in his veins like the song birds of an imagined Eden"" or ""She was holding him motionless in the beauty of his puberty.