Why? Well, when dealing with a population as confused and hormonally crazed as college students tend to be, there are few people who won't gain from the wisdom (yes, the wisdom) of Johannides' writing. The committed couples looking to vary their rutting routine, the shy singles in search of theoretical tips and the dirty-minded denizens who enjoy immersing themselves in fucking facts will all find satisfaction here, as in most standard guides.
What sets this guide apart is its practical but light-hearted approach to a pursuit that nature, nurture and now advertising have conditioned us to relate to in mind-bogglingly complex and contradictory ways. It knows when to take sex seriously and when not to, when to crack a joke and when to answer a question in a more solemn tone, how to emphasize safe sex and emotional respect for a partner without losing sight of the fact that most people have sex (or should) for fun, to please themselves.
Its language is simple, subversive and, more often than not, funny as hell. Chapter titles like "Basic Brain Weirdness," "Techno Breasts and Weenie Angst" and "The Zen of Finger-Fucking" set the mood for short, snappy commentaries on everything from vibrators to long-term relationships to something called "dyslexia of the penis."
The section labeled "Lingerie Tips for Cranky Marxists" takes more than a few well-needed potshots at the way advertising has warped our ideas of sexual intimacy; French kissing is beautifully defined as "the oral version of spelunking" (Johannides states that its name is derived from its having been the only way the French could find to make each other stop talking, and having recently spent a year in France, I must support this conclusion). Though it remains witty and irreverent, "Guide" never abandons its down-to-earth stance in talking about the kinkiest of subjects and recommends that bondage aficionados keep a flashlight and a pair of scissors handy "in anticipation of catastrophes like fires, earthquakes, or an unexpected visit from mom and dad."
And then there are the drawings. The illustrations of fantasy/comic book artist Daerick Gröss Sr., which resemble a cross between Japanese animé and bad '80s pop art, are stylized but explicit. They're light-years ahead of the depictions that scar children for life when they start to raid their parents' bookshelves and see a nasty hippie couple discovering "The Joy of Sex" well before the invention of the razor. The more surreal, cartoonish quality of Gröss' drawings lends itself well to the guide's tongue-in-cheek treatment of its subject. It even extends as far as whimsy, such as in the case of the recurring character of a cat often found in the boudoir of fornicating couples, ignoring them in typical feline fashion. My personal favorite is of a guy in a mullet and backwards baseball cap getting a hand job from a woman with the worst cheerleader hairdo ever. Gröss messed up his technique a little here, and it looks as though she has detached his genitalia from his body and is cradling them in her hands. Others will be more fascinated by the athletic amputee getting it on in the "Sex When You Are Horny & Disabled" chapter (I kid you not). But the line drawings of real-life erect penises that spring to attention at goofy angles are not only good for a chuckle. They're also emblematic of Johannides' frequently reiterated and reassuring position that, since each individual is unique as a sexual being, there are few definite generalizations that can be made about their erotic life, and that they need not fear deviating from the so-called "norm" as long as they respect their partner and themselves. Different people get turned on by different things, and if you can only achieve orgasm with the help of a live squid, more power to you, provided no one has a problem with having a slippery cephalopod between the sheets.
Of course, a lot of what the "Guide" has to say is just common sense, whether you're inside or outside of the bedroom, and like much common sense, it has the potential to fall on deaf ears. But pairing this kind of wisdom with more practical tips on deep versus shallow thrusts just might entice people both curious and jaded to re-examine the way they connect with others during this particularly intimate activity.
It's my guess that distributing the "Guide" on campus would undoubtedly raise the level of sexual satisfaction at Amherst and make for a bunch of happier, though not necessarily more productive, students. More than a few friends who picked it up off my desk became mesmerized after a short reading and begged to read it after I had finished writing this review; and since my review is about to end, perhaps the experiment is about to begin. In any case, look for a lot of goofy grins in Valentine next Sunday morning.