Posted on Goodreads:
Darklady's Carnal Archives and Mesmerizing Hate Mail by Theresa Reed
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
First off, I have to say, the hate mail is mesmerizing!
The only reason I didn't give this a five star is because I think she could have taken it up a notch. As it stands, it's an excellent book. It's personal, insightful, courageous, educational, political, and endlessly fascinating. Highly recommended. I can't say it's not just about sex. This book reminded me and brings forward the fact that whether you're neutral about, ashamed of, or embrace your gender and sexuality, sex is a huge part of you that goes beyond your bedroom desires (or lack thereof). I was very thoroughly satisfied … and yet she left me hungry for more. And that's a good thing. I hope to see more books from her soon.
I want to add a few things that I didn't want to post on Goodreads because using adult words might upset some people. Adults, mostly, I figure. I don't think kids are bothered by strong language.
At first I expected a lot more sex. I thought I'd immediately get poked in the eye by a penis jutting out from the page. When that didn't happen, I wanted to race ahead to the juicy parts. I'm glad I didn't. I also was surprised that the book would be entirely composed of articles. I shouldn't have been. It does say archives right in the title, after all!
I'm glad I didn't let my initial impatience rule me. The early articles created a strong foundation on which I could experience the rest of the book. Besides, some people, to whom the presented concepts might be entirely new, probably need a gentle easing in rather than sudden full penetration.
There is a huge amount in this book to digest for people who haven't looked at the world in quite this way. I have, but I don't have as much experience as Darklady, in all senses of the word, so I was delighted to find some of my ideas about sex and love reinforced, and to find new angles from which I could view the subject of sex, sexual politics, gender, gender identity, love, fucking, body image, self-love, tolerance, trust … the list goes on and on. I could write a book about this book. For some, this book could very well be mind-blowing. For me, I felt like I'd met someone who understood me and liked me well enough and trusted me enough to show me the rest of the iceberg that lies hidden beneath the sea of societally-imposed secrecy.
Not that Darklady wants, intends or even tries to keep her ideas about sexuality secret. We're taught from a young age that we're not allowed to look, that we'd be somehow damaged or traumatized if we saw someone having sex in public, that certain parts of our bodies are dirty (but beautiful and possibly even irresistable–what's the real message here?) and that we're not supposed to talk about it. That it's private. I can whole-heartedly agree with the last part. It can be and sometimes ought to be private, some of the time. Chimpanzees will sneak off to have a private moment together. Speaking as a descendent of an ape-like critter, that can be intense and fun. But it's not a necessity. They're not protecting the young chimps from potentially damaging, 'adult only' situations. They very well might be indulging in something illicit that the other chimps might not approve of because of tribal sexual dynamics and who is supposed to belong with who, and find it all the more delicious because it's forbidden. Or maybe they just want to fuck without any distractions or interference. Maybe they just want to shut out the rest of the world and be completely alone with each other, worshipping each other and drowning in each other without someone nearby talking about how to best dig ants out of a rotted stump. That has nothing to do with sex being a sin or tainted or wrong. That's just one flavor of a whole feast of sexual possibilities.
The fact is that Darklady doesn't know me (outside of a few fascinating conversations we've had) or trust me and hasn't taken me into her fold of privileged men, women, intersex, etc. She's just being open about her beliefs and her sexuality, out in front of the whole world. And although she writes frankly about her own sexuality, experiences and upbringing, I didn't get the feeling that this was all about her, beyond the physical sense that some of the chapters are literally about her. The book feels open, questing, questioning, though she doesn't directly ask the questions of her readers: what do you think, how does this make you feel, what's your perspective? And I think that's the main reason why I wanted to write a book about her book. Because I want to answer those questions.
And that's the real genius of the book.