Bonk: the Curious Coupling of Science and Sex, by Mary Roach

Published in 2008. 319 p.

Rating: 5 stars

Summary: Mary Roach, a scientific author with a sense of humor, goes globe-trotting in order to learn what science has found out about sex through its research. She focuses on arousal and orgasm in both males and females (human and not, but the not only as it pertains (or specifically doesn’t) to humans.)

Review: I’m in love. As the girl who barely passed certain science classes in high school and college, it is a miracle for me to be able to understand, nay, enjoy, a book that can be found in the science section of your local bookstore. Granted, sex is a topic that is universally interesting (okay, maybe not for the two medically asexual people in the world,) but still, despite words like vasocongestion (the swelling of bodily tissues caused by increased vascular blood flow and a localized increase in blood pressure…thank you wikipedia,) the book is understandable and thoroughly enjoyable.

As a science author, Roach does not stray away from the big words, high-tech procedures and instruments of research, and from being there in person. Roach clearly rejected her high school English teacher’s rule to never put herself in her writing: Roach appears very often throughout the course of the book. She got into all of the research rooms that she was allowed into, sometimes to the point of volunteering for various studies herself, and with her husband (Bravo, Mr. Roach.) Her point of view and funny running commentary (yes, she’s a footnote sort of girl…expect one to two on most pages) make the situations less awkward, and at the same time, hysterically funny. While watching a paralyzed girl masturbate from the other side of the double-sided (but not soundproof) glass, Roach nearly fell off of a desk, and in the process, knocked many other things off the desk, causing her doctor friend to scream. Roach blamed the skirt she was wearing, and afterwards asked the study subject (the paralyzed girl) if she had heard screaming from behind the glass, to which the girl responded in the affirmative. Roach then launched into a discussion of the findings (actual and hopeful) of the study. It is episodes like these that make Roach the perfect author for a book like this. She personalizes and humanizes the science, putting it in layman’s terms (after she’s used all the big words the scientists use) and making it accessible for the intelligent reader.

Perhaps my favorite aspect of the book is that Roach explores things that could be potentially useful for the sex-having person. For example, she tells you why pheromone perfume and cologne is a crock of shit (or urine, or sweat…ick. And ick again. And one last time…ick). She tells you why suction aids masturbation (but why doing the aforementioned act with a vacuum cleaner is not advisable.) You find out everything you need to know about your own and your partner of choice’s “bits,” and what helps stimulate men and women, and what doesn’t. The book has a ton of sex advice, but bases all of it on concrete research that she goes over with the reader. It’s a sex manual with evidence, in a way. It’s also a fantastic read (I can’t tell you how many times I missed my train stop (and almost did even more times) because I was so absorbed in the book.)

This is not a book for the unintelligent…if a reader who enjoys the topic of sex but is at the Sophie Kinsella level of reading, the reader won’t make it through this book. This book is also not for the, ahem, inexperienced. A younger person with whom I am acquainted read this book right before I did, and commented that he didn’t particularly like it, and that it was not as funny as he had expected, or as “good.” My reaction (as it generally is whenever he makes a sex-related remark): go have sex, sweetheart. Then we’ll see what you really think. All in all, though, I would recommend this book to all open-minded, intelligent individuals. Happy humping.

I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell, by Tucker Max

Published in 2006. 288 p.

Rating: 5 stars

Summary: Tucker Max: Southern ladies man and raging drunk, recounts his adventures in mostly red states. He drinks, he insults, he shags, he often vomits, he writes about it.

Review: Funniest thing I have EVER read. Ever. Ever ever. Ever. This book is so far beyond hysterical, I have actually found that it has practical applications: it can be referenced similarly to Sex and the City, but mostly with guys, because lets face it, girls aren’t exactly clamoring to read the book.

I fully believe that 90% of people have a little Tucker Max in them. Even if no one knows about it, there’s a little Tucker Max inside everyone. Socially, we learn to check the little Tucker Max voice in our heads, because our mothers taught us not to be rude. Apparently his mother wasn’t around or something, because he never learned to check the rudeness.

Tucker gets drunk, Tucker insults the ugly girls/guys, finds a (sometimes) hot (always) dumb girl to shag, usually shags her, and then some crazy shit happens, generally either directly before, during or after the shagging. Sometimes it involves the shagging, other times it involves upchuck or other bodily excrements, sometimes it involves cars, guns, punches, dead goats or whatever else.

Is Tucker a legend? Some say so. However, I must say, we’ve all had those nights, and I know plenty of people that live up to the Tucker Max standard. Hell, I’ve done that a time or two (Tucker, you remember being played by a girl or two in your day? I’m that girl, the girl who plays guys that think that they are playing her. While I’m drunk. And insulting and blueballing the guy who wants to take me home.) I think Tucker is very inventive in the crazy shit he enacts (see “Tucker goes to a Hockey Game,”) and sometimes he gets stories because he is about as dumb as the girls he shags (see “Tucker tries Buttsex; Hilarity does not Ensue.”)

Do I think everyone should read this book? Absolutely not; it would send my mother into an early grave. This is for the strong stomached, sexually and drunkenly unshockable (although you may still be shocked at times,) who like to laugh at other people. You should be intelligent if you plan to read this book, otherwise, it’s you that Tucker is making fun of. You should not be a slut, again for the reason that you are the one he is making fun of. However, if you are an intelligent non-whore that likes sex jokes and trading stories about “dude, I was sooo drunk that I…” this book is probably for you. Also check out his website (tuckermax.com), specifically for the Miss Vermont story that does not appear in the book. If you are unsure as to whether or not you will enjoy the book, read one or two of them online, and then go buy the book (yes, buy. No library on this one, you will be passing it around to all of your friends. And will still want to keep a copy of it at home for reference.)

The Stars, The Snow, The Fire, by John Haines

Originally published in 1977. 182 p.

Rating: 4.2 stars

Summary: A collection of essays about Haines time in Alaska. The essays describe the hunting/trapping lifestyle, homesteading in the wilderness, local stories (legend and factual ones), and the surrounding environment.

Review: John Haines is a pretty impressive guy. He writes award winning poetry, and yet still manages to make a living in Alaska by trapping and selling furs. And then writes a book about it.

Haines is clearly an accomplished writer, which if you see the reviews for Into the Wild and One Man’s Wilderness (the other 2 books I read in preparation for my trip to Alaska in a week and a half,) I really care about. Haines doesn’t get the award for most interesting book (Into the Wild receives that award, thanks to Chris McCandless,) but it was the most enjoyable to read. When he waxes poetic (which he does often,) it is subdued and dreamy and is not overkill or badly done. He reflects quite often in his essays, generally for the last page or so of many of the essays, but sometimes the entire essay will be a reflection on something.

Haines is also really good at telling the local stories through the other Alaskan homesteaders that he comes across. He describes the storyteller’s personality and physicality, and the scene of a few guys telling stories over beer and ciggies at the local (read: only) roadhouse, and then moves right into the story. Some of them are creepy but very interesting, such as the “Sack of Bones” essay. That essay actually came right after the essay entitled “Lost” and follows the same theme. As you might surmise from the title, the essays are about people who got “lost” in Alaska, i.e. they died. In “Sack of Bones,” there is almost assuredly an unsolved murder. In the midst of all the snow and ice and slaughtering animals, it was a nice change of pace.

My biggest complaint about the book is the back cover. Those who wrote the pieces of text on the back mislead me into understanding what the book was going to be about. No where on the back cover does it say that this book is a collection of essays, unrelated to each other except for the Alaskan theme. Not only this, but the book was called a memoir. So, imagine my confusion when there is no linear story, just strung together thoughts. Had I known it was only supposed to be essays, I would not have looked for a specific connection between the stories, and I think I would have had an easier time of it. When I did realize that the book was unrelated essays, the reading became much nicer and easier.

Haines really does have a gift for beautiful writing. If you are at all interested in Alaskan adventures, this would be a good book to pick up. Or, if you are looking for something a bit different than the daily fare that the bookstores offer, this might be a good choice for you. I do have one disclaimer on my recommendation to read this book, though. Do not read it if you don’t have a strong stomach; he does graphically describe clubbing animals for their furs, and carving up animals for supper. Even if you do have a strong stomach, do not eat anything while reading this book. I would recommend this book to anyone who has even the slightest interest in the subject or just in good writing in general.

One Man's Wilderness: An Alaskan Odyssey

Originally published in 1973. 224 p.

Rating: 3.5 stars

Summary:

In 1968, Richard “Dick” Proenneke flew out to the Twin Lakes area of Alaska, 40 miles North of Port Alsworth and 170 miles North of Anchorage, and built himself a cabin. He stayed for 2 years straight before leaving the area for the outside world. Proenneke kept a meticulous account of his days in a dated journal; discussing all of the work involved in building a cabin by himself, his diet, the flora and fauna of the surrounding area, the temperature fluctuations and how that impacted the environment, his rare encounters with other people (confined mostly to the pilot who flew in supplies as needed) and various beliefs and experiences along the way. Includes two sections of photographs that Proenneke took while out there.

Review:

This is a very simple book about a man’s experience with cabin building and living in Alaska. I picked it up because I am headed out to Alaska in a few weeks, and thought that I had better read up on Alaska a bit before I go. I probably wouldn’t have picked up this book otherwise, or gotten past the description of the book on the back.

Having read the book, I am glad that I did, and it fits pretty well with my upcoming travels. It is very calm, very simple writing, just going over the basic facts of what happened during the day; what Proenneke saw and did. It is pretty amazing to me that Proenneke managed to have a journal every single day that he was building the cabin.

The reason I only gave the book 3.5 stars is because it’s not terribly interesting, even if you are interested in the subject matter. I found myself re-reading much of the book because I realized I hadn’t paid any attention to the last page and a half, and had no idea what he was talking about. Sometimes, even when I had been reading carefully, I still had no idea what he was talking about. Since Keith went through and edited Proenneke’s journal, one would think that he would explain some of the more intricate concepts of cabin building for the woodwork-challenged types like myself. Nope.

What really shines throughout the book are the descriptions of the animals and the environment out there. Proenneke is a keen observer, with lots of patience and he records it very matter of factly, without any poetic license. Proenneke is not naturally a writer, and he doesn’t try to be one. Hi journals were very clearly not intended for anyone else, so he doesn’t try to have a fancy style; it is all rather bare-bones.

I don’t know if I would say that it was good book, but it certainly wasn’t a bad book. A bit boring at times, I don’t think I would recommend it for most people. It would be a good read, however, for people going to Alaska or people who are very interested in the outdoors, Alaska, nature and wildlife, etc.