You might be wondering why I chose to review Cosmic Coupling if I've reviewed Sextrology, since the the former book contains little information that was not in the latter. The answer is simple: I couldn't resist detailing how Starsky and Cox's perspectives on sex and gender play out in another format. To put this as succinctly as possible, I can say with confidence that those perspectives are still stuck in the 1970s, even with a five-year gap between books. (I can just barely accept that the gender essentialist backlash of the 1990s [think Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus] pervaded the authors' consciousness into 2004. In 2009, however...they really, truly should have known better.)
Seriously. When reading a book, one useful game to play is “If I Were a Martian.” In this game, you imagine that you are a space alien reading a book to learn about typical human behavior. What would you think if you, a Martian, based your expectations of Earthlings on Cosmic Coupling?
Well, you would think that gender dysphoria only went in a single direction, that most humans were open to three-way sex, that bondage and sadomasochism were natural progressions of most sexual relationships, and that sexual orientation synced up more or less perfectly with traditional expectations of gender. You would traipse around the planet thinking that every third lesbian couple sought a young man to use as a dildo. As you oozed through Earth's major metropolises, you would wonder which men planned to beat their male lovers with whips and which ones only wanted to fist them. For that matter, you might as well relinquish any hopes of fitting in with the dominant culture, since Starsky and Cox's definitions of gender are so narrow that no Martian could ever live up to them. (Also, if you, Earthling or Martian, gathered that Starsky and Cox were heterosexuals who believed that they were qualified to make broad statements about gay people, prepare to have your suspicions confirmed by the book's introduction.)
Since this book is about couples rather than individuals, it dwells even more on sex than Sextrology did. Although the authors supply you, the eager reader plumped for esoteric secrets, with plenty of relationship and sexual analysis, the book's spiritual aspects are greatly diminished compared to its predecessor. In fact, your understanding of this book depends to an extent on your knowledge of the information contained within Sextrology, making Cosmic Coupling possibly the first astrology book to be a direct sequel to another astrology book. If you don't know that the Greek goddess that corresponds to Scorpio woman is Persephone and that the Biblical character most similar to Aquarius man is John the Baptist, then the book will remind you occasionally, but most of the time, you're up Semen and Blood Creek without a paddle if you haven't read the authors' previous work. You're left with what amounts to Starsky and Cox's sex therapy notes for the bulk of the pages.
The preceding paragraphs are not to disparage the book, but to inform you of what you're in for should you decide to read it. It goes without saying that if you enjoyed Sextrology, you will enjoy Cosmic Coupling. The corollary to this is that if you disliked Sextrology, you will despise Cosmic Coupling--and, to be honest, Cosmic Coupling deserves a few side-eyes for some of its assertions.