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The first book of prose published by either James Thurber or E. B. White, Is Sex Necessary? combines the humor and genius of both authors to examine those great mysteries of life -- romance, love, and marriage. A masterpiece of drollery, this 75th Anniversary Edition stands the test of time with its sidesplitting spoof of men, women, and psychologists; more than fifty funny illustrations by Thurber; and a new foreword by John Updike.… (altro)
I borrowed this from the Library when it was open again. Loved it! Just as true today as it was when first written nearly 100 years ago. It's so relevant, I bought a copy to keep. ( )
It is interesting that E.B. White's other book, that is more directly fiction, was "Charlotte's Web." Nonetheless, an exploration of North American sexual attitudes in the late 1920's was a product of collaboration between a grammarian and a humourist...but isn't that a lot like life. It remains an interesting social document. ( )
As a final word on sex, this book fails. I’m glad I didn’t read this when I was young – it might have put me on the wrong track for years. As it was, I had to compile my perception of sex from tattered fantasy novels and lurid novellas accidentally classified in the young adult section of my local library. The discovery, when I was twelve, of a suitcase stuffed with the most hardcore pornography imaginable - buried, like some hideous treasure, in the damp leaves of the woods - well, that did not help either.
Thurber’s drawings scattered throughout this book are slightly interesting. A surprisingly astute observation comes tucked away in the appendix: White explains the sketches represent the ‘the melancholy of sex’ and ‘the implausibility of animals’. White explains most of the men in the drawings look frightened, but I disagree: I think they mostly look angry. This book is supposed to be light reading, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Thurber was secretly (or not so secretly) a misogynist, and a bitter one at that. ( )
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Things look pretty bad right now' MAJ. GEN. BRIGGS, AT SHILOH
Dedica
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To Daisy and Jeanie
Incipit
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During the past year, two factors in our civilisation have been greatly overemphasized. One is aviation, the other is sex.
Citazioni
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I have mentioned that the question of deciding whether a feeling be love or passion arises at inopportune moments, such as at the start of a letter. Let us say you have sat down to write a letter to your lady. There has been a normal amount of preparation for the ordeal, such as clearing a space on the desk (in doing which you have become momentarily interested in a little article in last month's Scribner's called, "Plumbing the Savage," and have stood for a minute reading the first page and deciding to let it go), and the normal amount of false alarms, such as sitting down and discovering that you have no cigarettes. (Note: if you think you can write the letter without cigarettes, it is not love, it is passion.)
I have seldom met an individual of literary tastes or propensities in whom the writing of love was not directly attributable to the love of writing. A person of this sort falls terribly in love, but in the end it turns out that he is more bemused by a sheet of white paper that a sheet of white bed linen. He would rather leap into print with his lady than leap into bed with her.
The young man, instead of losing himself in the kiss, finds himself in it. What's more, the girl to him loses her identity —she becomes just anyone on whom he is imposing his masculinity. Instead of his soul being full of the ecstasy which is traditionally associated with love's expression, his soul is just fiddling around. The young man is thinking to himself: "Say, this is pretty nice!" Well, that scares him. Up to this point in the affair he has been satisfied that his feeling was that of love. Now he doesn't know what to think. In all his life he has never come across a character in a book or a movie who, embracing his beloved, was heard to say, "This is pretty nice," unless that character was a villain. He becomes a mass of conflicting emotions, and is so thoroughly skeptical and worried about the state of his heart that he will probably take to reading sociological books to find out if it's O.K. to go ahead ...
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The first book of prose published by either James Thurber or E. B. White, Is Sex Necessary? combines the humor and genius of both authors to examine those great mysteries of life -- romance, love, and marriage. A masterpiece of drollery, this 75th Anniversary Edition stands the test of time with its sidesplitting spoof of men, women, and psychologists; more than fifty funny illustrations by Thurber; and a new foreword by John Updike.
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It's so relevant, I bought a copy to keep. (