Customer Reviews

The Sorrows of Priapus (Sorrows of Priapus Ppr)

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This is a most unusual book, of interest chiefly as that rarest of literary objects, a manifesto of pessimism. Dahlberg's intent seems to have been as much to display his bulging erudition and arch, archaic way with words as to decry man's slavery to the sexual urge. His ostensible subject is often buried beneath an avalanche of classical, historical, and anthropological allusions, but at least the book is riddled with eccentric epithets along the lines of "Man is double, and who may know his heart: he is a moral hermaphrodite." The author's tone is judgmental and defiant throughout, but that doesn't energize the book. The tedium of reading finally overwhelms any interest his oblique approach might provide, and there are no illuminating observations about the eternal itch, merely a catalogue of references to Greek gods, Mayan myths, and "primeval potherbs."

Get me another scotch and turn on the lava lamp! I started reading this one, and then started thumbing around from front to back, and I still don't know what is going on -- but it was sure interesting while it lasted!

I found this book at a library book sale, so excuse me for not knowing anything about its literary pretensions or context.

WARNING, right off: You will have no idea what this book is about unless you take a class on this guy, which is probably unlikely, or have an odd, non-Hefnerian view of sex. Or if you're the sort to sit in a tweed blazer and monocle and snicker alone late at night over the Discovery channel with one hand down your pants.

When an author starts off by telling you unabashedly that he's going to use the whole range of the English vocabulary going back to the Elizabethans, whether you know what he's talking about or not, and then goes off to frolic around in weird, wordy and highly literary word-acrobatics about copulation and who-knows-what, you know you've gotten into something not exactly "summer reading."

I'm not sure who this book was intended for (from the intro, I'd say no-one), but it's always good to have it on your shelf, especially if the title is prominently displayed, and you can pull it out periodically and read vague and archly erudite chuckles about pudenda and whatnot.

As for "misanthropic," well, ya got me there. Really, that's just nitpicking with a book this weird.