What the Hell is Dick Lit?

In my last review, I mentioned the genre dick lit, but I didn't really give it a definition. Upon googling the phrase, I found that I don't actually have to. It's already been done for me!

Dick lit, lad lit, guy lit…whatever, is typically written by men, about men, who are young, selfish, insensitive and afraid of commitment. Just picture Chuck Bass and you've pretty much got your quintessential dick lit character. If I had to put the blame on anyone, I'd start with Holden Caulfield. Which makes me realize that that I now understand Catcher in the Rye. Because I didn't before. I just thought he was a huge asshole.

While most men don't read chick lit, the same cannot be said for the other way around. Despite the fact that dick lit protagonists are essentially&133;dicks, women love dick lit.

Dustin Rowles explains:

"The penis ejaculates yarns rich with metaphor and, because young men aren't big readers, dick lit also has to appeal to women to be successful. In a way, then, dick lit is written by the music-loving, sensitive men so worshipped in the chick lit genre."

Hands up, who doesn't picture John Cusack when she's reading her dog-eared copy of High Fidelity?

And the Book Ninja has more to add (through the help of The Chronicle, but their own article has been taken down):

Each work is written in the first person, by a destabilized, unreliable narrator; these books are like one long run-on sentence of self-justification and rationalization. "I don't want your wholesome values, your reasonably good judgment," says Jeb Braun, protagonist in Erik Barmack's The Virgin. "My goal isn't to please you. So if you're expecting the whole handshake and nod routine, you can stop reading right now." (Several authors refer to "the book you hold in your hand," as if to distance themselves even further from their own sad story.)

Despite this holier-than-thou attitude, we want to keep reading. It's like you know your boyfriend's an asshole and he never goes down on you, but you still keep him around cause he makes you feel smarter just by being there. Eventually, though, you realize he's a dick and you dump him. But a part of you will always miss that boost of intelligence he gave you by his mere selfish, insensitive presence.

My personal dick lit hero is Tyler Durden. I'd follow that crazy mofo to the ends of the earth. How about you?

Image source: Save Ophelia

Booking Through Thursdays: Oh, I'm a Book Slut

Booking Through Thursdays asks:

Some people read one book at a time. Some people have a number of them on the go at any given time, perhaps a reading in bed book, a breakfast table book, a bathroom book, and so on, which leads me to…

1. Are you currently reading more than one book?
2. If so, how many books are you currently reading?
3. Is this normal for you?
4. Where do you keep your current reads?

If I could ever proclaim that I’m a slut, it would be because of books. And, for the record, I can’t actually call myself a proper slut as I’m a bit of a prude, even with the women’s fiction job. But! Books, well…they are my Achilles’ heel. Give me a stack of books and a hunk of man-meat and I’ll ask to read the back cover copy first before I make my decision.

That being said, yes. I read way more than one book at a time. I’ll read anything at any time. Currently, if you’ll look down to my Shelfari widget, you’ll see that I have five books on the go that I’ll admit to. That doesn’t account for the book in my parent’s bathroom (Yoga for People Who Can’t Be Bothered to Do It by Geoff Dyer), or the book by my bed that I haven’t touched in about four months cause it’s really boring, the countless books in my office, or the others strewn around my apartment in various states of completion (I’m looking at you Absurdistan).

I’m perfectly happy to flit from book to book. Sometimes I’m not in the mood for that dark, wordy nine hundred page tome about the Middle Ages. Sometimes I need something light and airy. Right now I’m on a graphic novel kick. I’ve finally acquired several of the books from my Graphic Novel Challenge list and I’m busy getting through those. And where do I keep them all? Everywhere. A Scanner Darkly is hiding in my purse. I found a book in bed with me this morning, I rolled over and came face to face with the cheeky monkey gracing its cover like it was the morning-after and it’s time for that awkward conversation.

Thankfully, books don’t talk back (well, they can if you get the audio, but you know what I mean). And that’s why I’m more of a book slut than anything else.

I'm All Read Out

I fear I am in a literary slump. Currently I have several books on the go: Young Stalin by Simon Sebag Montefiore, I'm Not the New Me by Wendy McClure, The Tales of Beedle the Bard by oh, you know, and Don Quixote.

Two nights ago, tired of all of these books, I picked up Gina Showalter's The Darkest Night, the first in a trilogy of ancient Greek warriors cursed with the personified demons of Death, Violence, Pain, Lust, and I can't remember the last one, but I'm sure it's a doozy.

Yeah, I know.

Sometimes you just need fluff, though. I have been pushing myself so hard to read so many diverse things, that I just snapped. I haven't touched a library book in days, and I haven't so much as sniffed at the challenge list that I created for myself in December, apart from the half-hearted attempt at Montefiore's tome.

I don't know what it is, but I'm kinda read out.

Do you ever get that way? Do you ever push yourself so hard to read so much that you need to step back for a minute and rest your eyes? I do. Perhaps that's why I read so many books at once; I need to have a variety of books in order to match the mood I am in.

I don't apologize for liking fluff. And no one should have to. Genre fiction, trashy books, whatever you call it—sometimes they are the best remedy you can ask for.

I expect I'll get my mojo back soon enough. It's not like I've stopped reading entirely. The Darkest Night is half through already and The Darkest Kiss is waiting on my shelf, next in line!

Photo source: tabrandt