Book Reviews

This Book is Awesome: “How to Be a Woman” by Caitlin Moran

Kate Sloan

Within the span of about a month in 2014, three different people said to me, “You have to read Caitlin Moran’s book. You would love it.” All three recommendations came from people I trusted, people who don’t say “You would love it” unless I, specifically, would actually love what they’re talking about. So I filed away the name of the book, determined to get to it eventually.

Then, when I was in Montreal on vacation, an opportunity presented itself: my travel buddy wanted to spend a whole morning in a coffee shop chillin’ out, and I hadn’t brought a book, so we stopped in Indigo to load up on entertainment. My eyes fell on How to Be a Woman and I thought, Yes. That.

I knew this was a book about feminism, but I was not prepared for how funny it is. It is laugh-out-loud, snort-coffee-through-your-nose funny. My friend must have thought I was a weirdo because I laughed so often in that Montreal café that I started to draw concerned looks from the other tables. I couldn’t help it. Caitlin Moran is fucking hilarious.

Moran – a British music journalist – has a lot to say in this book about feminism, about girlhood, about life as a woman. Her main thesis, so far as I can tell, is that society makes womanhood out to be easy and automatic, when actually a lot of work goes into performing the role of woman “correctly.” Whether it’s getting your period for the first time, or figuring out how to walk in heels, or negotiating body image struggles, there’s basically no part of being a woman that is as effortless as it’s supposed to be. And it’s incredibly comforting to have that affirmed by such a smart, funny, clever woman, so articulately and emotively.

There’s a lot of sharp contrast in this book. I cried with laughter while reading Moran’s essay on deciding what slang term for “vagina” to use around her daughters (“cunt,” she thought, was maybe not super appropriate for a toddler), and then I just plain cried when reading about Moran’s horrific childbirth experience. Every inch of this book is equal parts relatable and instructive, equal parts funny and painful. That is so hard to do and I admire Caitlin so much for her candor, her ability to open up about these difficult topics and to do it in a way that’s so engaging and keeps me nodding along, like, “Yes! I know that feeling!”

A personal sore spot for me at the moment is my relationship with food, and how it relates to body image. My heart hurt with recognition when I read Caitlin’s chapter about fatness, fitness, and food, in which she posits that the reason so many women struggle with food addiction is that it’s a way of getting “high” without inconveniencing other people. It gives you a momentary rush and release, on the same spectrum as drugs or booze, but it doesn’t require anyone to drive you home, hold back your hair while you puke, or keep your intoxicated shouting under control – since women, above all, are taught not to inconvenience others. That was a freeing and eye-opening revelation for me, and certainly gave me some food for thought (if you’ll pardon the pun).

It’s pretty rare that I read a funny, silly book like this and actually want to read it again, not only to re-experience the laughs but also to re-absorb all the wisdom contained within. But How to Be a Woman, I can already tell, will be a bible of sorts for me as I continue growing into the woman I’m going to be. Caitlin Moran has seen and done it all, has made a great number of mistakes she wants other women to be able to sidestep, and so this book feels like a cross between a Tina Fey-esque funnyfest and a concerned letter from an older sister. It’s so, so wonderful, and I think you would love it.

Book Review: Serving Him

Kate Sloan

I felt pretty starstruck when I saw Rachel Kramer Bussel at the Feminist Porn Conference, because I’ve been reading her erotica anthologies for years and I’ve determined that we are more-or-less sexually in sync – at least, if her story selections are anything to go by. We dig the same sexual acts, the same turns of phrase. So I always gravitate toward RKB over any other anthology editor, because I know I can count on her to deliver something that’ll turn me on. Serving Him is indeed edited by RKB, but I don’t feel quite the same about it as I feel about some of her other works.

I judge erotica anthologies by how many stories bore me versus how many make me put my hand in my panties, and this book has a medium score on that scale. As the title suggests, it’s full of juicy short stories about dominant men and submissive women (yes, this is a hetero-oriented tome).

Some favorite stories of mine include Lori Selke’s “What You Deserve,” which features fancy food and spanking; Maxine Marsh’s “Tackling Jessica,” in which a football move becomes a fantasy; and J. Sinclaire’s “Duo,” a delightfully smutty MMF three-way.

Some stories in this book contain elements that drain the arousal right out of me – breath-play, humiliation, and dubious consent, for example. While there are obviously folks for whom these things are the height of hotness, it actually made me somewhat anxious to read about them. The Tumblr social justice community has embraced “trigger warnings” wholeheartedly, and I’m wondering if it’s time for kinky/edgy erotica anthologies to do the same thing – sort of in the same vein as how Yes Means Yes uses themed keywords to help you decide which chapters you want to read and which you want to skip.

I also found there were some stories which focused overwhelmingly on the psychological aspects of Dom/sub dynamics, with very little actual smut. This, again, is something that doesn’t hit the spot for me, but may be perfect for folks who find the non-bedroom parts of D/s relationships just as exciting as the actual sexual encounters. To each their own, right?

I should note that I like Dom/sub scenarios, contrary to what this review might indicate. But I guess I only like ‘em when they’re focused on sex and maybe a little spanking – the other stuff is peripheral or antithetical to my personal sexuality, while it might be central to others’.

Thanks so much to Cleis Press for sending me Serving Him to review!

Book Review: The Whole Lesbian Sex Book

Kate Sloan

I’ve wanted to read The Whole Lesbian Sex Book ever since a friend of mine brought a copy to an LGBT conference we attended in high school and the two of us pored over new-to-us information about different types of orgasms and different ways to achieve them. I was over the moon when Cleis Press offered me my choice of books to review, because I’ve always loved their smart, sexy, informative tomes. The Whole Lesbian Sex Book was first on my list.

Let it be said, first off, that I’m not a lesbian. I’m a bisexual, I’m in a long-term relationship with a cis guy, and I have passing-for-straight privilege for sure. Although my perspective might be different from the average reader of this book, there’s still a lot I can learn and have learned from it – and indeed, I think this would be a great read for anyone who has sex with women, is a woman, is interested in female sexuality, or some combination thereof. This isn’t so much a book about lesbian sex as it is a book about having sex with women or as a woman or both.

And let me tell you, it does a wonderful job of that. This is a huge departure from male-written or male-oriented sex guides. Emphasis is placed on things that matter to women: the clitoris is regarded as the centre of our sexuality, non-orgasmic sex is presented as every bit as viable and valid as orgasmic sex, and the emotional and psychological barriers to good sex are discussed in depth, just to name a few examples of how wonderfully woman-oriented this book is. (That’s not to say these things aren’t also important to men – just that they are traditionally excluded from male-directed sex education resources.)

Felice Newman is a fabulous writer: non-judgmental, caring, and obviously passionate about women’s sexuality. I love that she rarely uses words like “normal” – her book normalizes a whole host of healthy sexual behaviors that people often feel unfounded guilt about. That’s exactly what a sex-positive guide should do.

Some of the chapters in this book offer practical advice on sexual techniques – “Breast Play,” “Clitoral Play,” “Vaginal Penetration,” et cetera. Some of them cover more abstract or complex topics – “Desire and Fantasy,” “Communication and Finding Sex Partners,” “Gender (Not Destiny),” and so on. In every chapter, you’ll find information that would be useful to sexual novices (“Many women enjoy clitoral stimulation combined with vaginal or anal penetration”) as well as information that will interest a more advanced reader.

Newman’s writing is interspersed with quotes from real queer women who responded to her surveys. These, too, have a normalizing effect: it’s fun and validating to see that one’s own experiences, even the weirder ones, have been shared by other women.

I was surprised to note that the book is pretty inclusive of trans people – both trans men and trans women. There is an entire chapter about gender but trans-relevant information is also sprinkled throughout. The lesbian feminist community has sometimes been known to exclude trans folks from their discourse, but this book is on the ball about that stuff, providing info about what kind of stimulation might work for different types of bodies and what the partners of trans people ought to know about how to have sex in a way that respects and pleasures their partners.

Likewise, the book also welcomes with open arms people with disabilities and queer women who have sex with men. I always love when lesbian sex resources acknowledge that some queer women have sex with men, because different considerations need to be taken into account for those women and it can suck to feel excluded because of who you have sex with.

Overall I’m really thrilled with The Whole Lesbian Sex Book. It’s one of the most exhaustive sex guides I’ve ever read (second only, perhaps, to The Guide to Getting It On, which is comparatively very heteronormative). If you like sex with ladies, or you’re a lady who likes sex, or you want to better understand lady-sex, this is undoubtedly the book for you.

Thank you so much to Cleis Press for the book!

Book Review: The Stripper’s Guide to Looking Great Naked

Kate Sloan

I discovered this book in a random way. A few weeks ago, while getting ready for a Body Pride workshop, I suddenly realized I was on my period. Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to sit on a stranger’s floor for hours while completely naked and menstruating, but it seems like risky business. So I opened up Google and started searching to see what other people recommended.

The Stripper’s Guide to Looking Great Naked came up on Google Books, because there’s a small section about periods in it. It told me to wear a tampon with the string shoved inside – which I did, and everything worked out great. Intrigued, I decided to buy and read the rest of the book.

It’s not written by actual strippers, but rather, by women who interviewed hundreds of strippers. I admit I would have found it more interesting if the book was primarily direct quotes from real strippers discussing their real techniques, rather than just a summary of what was gleaned from interviews. But there’s still a lot of valuable stuff in here.

I was reading the book mostly out of a desire to look better while doing casual naked activities – lying in bed, maybe playing Strip Scrabble at parties, that kind of thing – and not so much to learn about how to actually strip. So, I mostly skimmed over the parts about dance moves, choosing songs to get down to, and how to set flattering lighting for your show. But that stuff is in here and many aspiring bedroom dancers would find it useful.

What I really appreciated were the aesthetic tips and tricks: how to choose a flattering hairstyle for your body type, how to achieve a strippertastic “smoky eye,” how to make your boobs look bigger with bronzer, and so on. There were also some quirkier tips, like how to create a makeshift bra out of masking tape and how to do a beauty routine if you’re stuck at your boyfriend’s house with no supplies on hand. This is all good info for any femme lady – though I don’t know if it’s stuff you need to buy this book for. Much of this information can be found in beauty magazines and YouTube tutorials, truth be told.

My boyfriend, who was reading over my shoulder for part of this short book, thought it was funny that the authors recommended massaging coffee grounds into your ass to temporarily reduce cellulite. As for me, I thought it was funny when they recommended using a handheld vibrating massager to get fat deposits moving – with no mention whatsoever of using it to vibrate more interesting areas. Come on, ladies!

So, while The Stripper’s Guide to Looking Great Naked was a fun read, I’m not sure I actually learned much from it that I hadn’t seen in Cosmo or Vogue or maybe even Seventeen. But if you’re thinking about making stripteases a regular part of your life, this would be a good primer.

5 Books That Have Shaped My Sexuality

Kate Sloan

I don’t read as many books as I’d like to. This is partially due to the fact that I spend zillions of hours a day on the internet, reading blogs and articles and other web resources. Still, though, I owe a lot to the books that I’ve read on sexuality, and I wanted to profile some of them today.

1. Butch Is a Noun (S. Bear Bergman)

Bear is perhaps my all-time favorite queer author. At the time that he wrote Butch is a Noun, he still identified as a butch and used gender-neutral pronouns (he’s since started identifying as a trans man and uses male pronouns now, from what I’ve seen). Bear visited my high school at one point and read aloud from Butch at one of the first Queer-Straight Alliance meetings I ever attended, and I was immediately enthralled. His writing is richly descriptive and often hilarious. This book helped me refine my ideas and fantasies about what I, as a queer femme, am looking for in a partner: a chivalrous, old-fashioned gentleman (though not necessarily male-bodied or male-identifying), who is nonetheless well-versed in new and progressive ideas about gender and sex.

2. Sex at Dawn: How We Mate, Why We Stray, and What It Means for Modern Relationships (Christopher Ryan and Cacilda Jethá)

The “polyamory bible” used to be The Ethical Slut, but ever since Sex at Dawn came along, it’s pretty much reigned supreme in poly circles. It presents countless fascinating arguments for the idea that monogamy doesn’t come naturally to humans, using plenty of evolutionary psychology and bonobo research to prove its central point. This one is definitely worth a read if you’re interested in delving into consensual non-monogamy or have already made that plunge.

3. The Vagina Monologues (Eve Ensler)

In a world that shames, commodifies, and minimizes vaginas, it’s unspeakably refreshing that a play like this could get so popular and be talked about so often in the public eye. This piece is a must-read if you, like so many of us, suffer from vagina shame, or just don’t think about your lady-parts all that often (although, if you’re reading this blog, I doubt that’s an issue of yours). I also encourage men to read this, if just to gain some perspective on the pussy.

4. O: The Intimate History of the Orgasm (Jonathan Margolis)

I’ve never heard another person talk about this book. It’s just not very well-known, which is a shame, because it’s brilliant and quite possibly my favorite book on the topic of sex. Margolis, with a surprisingly balanced and empathetic attitude for a straight cis guy, leads us through the history of the human orgasm. Of particular interest is his in-depth description of the Victorian era’s stuffy attitudes about sex, which hid all the suppressed, lascivious shit that was going on under the surface. His main hypothesis is that testosterone has been the most influential hormone in our history, and he may well be right.

5. Flow: The Cultural Story of Menstruation (Elissa Stein and Susan Kim)

As you might expect from a book about menstruation written by two women, this book has a serious feminist bent and leans heavily toward anti-establishment. Stein and Kim write about the male fear of menstrual blood, the various products that have been invented to make it disappear (often at the risk of women’s health), and alternatives to these sometimes crippling “solutions.” Definitely a book for the hippie-mama within, but still a great read if you’re tired of the world telling you to stuff a “dry wad of fuckin’ cotton”* up your vag every month.

*This is a quote from The Vagina Monologues about tampons. Yet another reason to read it.