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Thomas Mann's Death in Venice, a novella about a writer who falls in love with a young Polish boy, which has been raising eyebrows ever since its publication in 1912. To be clear, when we state author, we are referring to an adult one--that means this love is all types of forbidden. Before you consider burning your copy of the book in outrage, though, consider this: This book is really about artwork.

And desire. And how art and want are super entangled with each other. Can it be a sexy mess? Absolutely. Can it be a totally captivating read because of this?

Mann, known as "the ironic German" (no seriously--there's even a book by that title), loves to present ethical values and cultural ideals as open questions instead of straightforward facts (they didn't give him the Nobel Prize in 1929 for nothing), and Death in Venice is his depiction of the modern artist, showing the way the artist's love of beauty is often barely any different from erotic fixation. In other words, there's no beauty without sexual desire coursing below the surface.

Caution: You may feel that a little embarrassing calling things beautiful after you finish reading this book--it will probably be a cool minute before you tell your mom she looks fine again. However, if this is the case, then it merely means Mann accomplished what he set out to do. So while it could be embarrassing for us as readers, it's a job well done for Mann.

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