In a playful, yet scholarly romp through "low" and "high" culture, Jonathan Allan asks why--since we all have one and use it every day--do we squirm at the mere mention of the anus? How is it that Kim Kardashian's derriere can break the internet, Pippa Middleton's behind can create a "butt lift" craze, and yet we cannot handle a discussion of anality? And why, given that we all have one, has the anus been caught up in the very "ground zero of gayness"?
I didn't actively choose to read this book. It was on a reading list that I am in; specifically, #16 (Read an unknown book with fewer than 100 ratings on any given website). I wasn't swayed for or against it either way. It looked like a novel idea and without knowing quite what to expect, I dove in.
The chapters are quite random and Allan doesn't seem to know where to start or how to flow into the next topic. So he doesn't. He often poses questions to which we would like to know the answer (example: "What would it mean, then to renounce the phallus and to choose willingly the bottom?"), but only ends up leaving us with more questions.
The content is at times fascinating and occasionally repetitive and annoying. There are occasions where Allan bends over backwards to make sure the reader is not offended by what he is writing, and his attempt at consistently staying politically correct, while understandable, is aggravating at times. Overall, though, I did come away from this book with a few new perspectives on queer theory and it was not a waste to have read this book.
My major gripe is that this book is not quite a cultural analysis of the anus (how often has one uttered that in one's life?). In retrospect, the title sort of comes across as a catchy, gimmicky marketing ploy. Although Allan never strays too far from the topic, "Another Series of Relevant Queer Studies Essays - Also, Anuses," would have been a more apt title.
While Allan does at times say he is going to delve further into the matter of how an asshole refers to a repugnant person while simultaneously referring to a body part that everyone has, he never really does. This book would be more fitting for a seminar study in a Queer Studies class and not as a stand-alone book about the anus. (Also, it is important to note that Allan's analysis of the anus is nearly completely from a queer perspective. You won't be reading much about anatomy or function in this book.)
Another complaint is that the book ends quite abruptly. There is no real conclusion. You just turn a page and end up in the notes section (sort of how I intend to end this review).
This is ok. I completely subscribe to Allan's ideas about the importance of the anus, our ridiculous obsession with reading phalluses everywhere (in literary studies this is completely out of control – not everything is a phallus!), and the potential value of disaggregating anality from homosexuality and anality from passivity.
But Allan's book itself feels a little all over the place. We jump from a chapter about the film Brokeback Mountain to a chapter about a gay romance novel to a chapter about Kent Monkman's paintings to a chapter about the film Doña Herlinda y Su Hijo to a chapter about a single poem by Delmira Agustini. How is one to develop a theoretical apparatus relative to these disparate objects? And what, after all, does this theory of anality, this delightful idea of reading from behind, finally offer us if the case studies are so very different?
It really bugs me when a book ends without a conclusion.
I was expecting a wrap-up chapter, perhaps something that expands the relevance of the subject of literary and cultural analysis of the anus in a way that relates it to contemporary pop culture.
What a bummer (pun intended) when you finish up a chapter, and you flip to nothing but end notes (pun intended again).
After having found David Friedman’s “A Mind of Its Own: A Cultural History of the Penis” quite fascinating, I leapt at the chance to read this book. I should have looked more carefully at the subtitle. Allan is focused not on a historical analysis but on a cultural analysis that replaces a phallocentric reading and looking at what “reading from behind” could uncover. He analyzes novels, films, poems and even paintings, focusing on the depictions/use of anal eroticism. While certainly interesting to some extent, if only for the novelty of the focal point, there was a secondary element that was more than a bit taxing. Allan frames his analysis in the context of other works. He refers, extensively, to the work of other queer theorists, philosophers and literary critics. He uses the work of these people to go beyond the specific case study in point and defend the theoretical framework for his analysis. This results in the reader being dragged through the viewpoints of dozens of other writers and results in a taxing reading experience for those not familiar with the works quoted.
Based on the cover blurb, I was expecting an interesting cultural look at the topic, something akin to Mary Roach's Gulp. . . What I got was a series of text analyses for a few works of literature and a couple of scenes from movies like I had to write for English class.
Though the book was fairly short (180 pages of actual content), Allen still had pages to waste. For instance he spent four full pages describing how he doesn't read many romance books before finally getting around to analyzing one.
Saw in Bend Bulletin, sunday, 20 March 2016, in "Odd book titles" under Around the World, A2. Others mentioned include the one that narrowly beat it: "Too naked for the Nazis" Alan Stafford," ... "the story of a music-hall act that outraged authorities in Hitler's Germany, ...."