Misstropolis

Wednesday, October 03, 2007

The Straight Dope on Dick Lit

by Susan Graage

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Misstropolis recently investigated the newest sub-genre in publishing (or, more accurately, in book marketing) known as “Dick lit” - the masculine complement to “Chick lit”.  It seems that the extraordinary popularity of Bridget Jones, Candace Bushnell’s “Sex and the City”, Sophie Kinsella’s Shopaholic tales, and so many others has led publishers to pursue a male equivalent. Interestingly enough, in this case the authors are male, although the target audience is still primarily female. 

Brits Nick Hornby and Tony Parsons as well as Boston’s own Steve Almond set something of an example with moderately successful semi-autobiographical works about the loves and lives of contemporary neurotic males. Tucker Max and Steve Santagati, two personalities for whom the word “author” doesn’t seem to fit, took the trend to a new level by parlaying their exploits into books that have hit the motherlode of publishing success - the New York Times bestseller list and Oprah’s seal of approval. 

However, just one ejaculation filled chapter of Tucker Max’s collection of hook-up stories, I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, was more than enough to convince me that its greatest societal benefit will come when it finally hits the recycling bin.

We decided to concentrate on another “New York Times” bestseller and Oprah-shilled book, Santagati’s The Manual: A True Bad Boy Explains How Men Think, Date, and Mate—and What Women Can Do to Come Out on Top. Misstropolis gave the book to several single women we know and solicited their opinions.

Santagati’s “expertise” is apparently derived from his status as a former J. Crew model and minor television personality. When not striking poses in barn jackets, he appeared as host of such obscure programs as the Game Show Network’s “American Dream Derby,” which has something to do with horse racing, and Fox’s “Man v. Beast 2,” a reality show that pits humans versus animals in various contests. Random House awarded him a book contract based purely on a verbal pitch wherein he “named names” of A-list starlets whom he had allegedly bedded. Incidentally, no such names appear in the book.

Santagati contends that he offers better advice on dating than the average women’s magazine - Cosmo better look out. He does, however, readily acknowledge his debt to women, as at a recent reading where he spent time thanking former flames and hook-ups, the babysitter who gave him his start in womanizing when she agreed to show him her breasts in a garage in Tewksbury, MA, and his mom and sisters, who gave him great insight into the other sex, including he claims, an understanding of what it’s like to have a period.

If a female ghostwriter was involved in “The Manual’s” creation, the following tips apparently snuck by her:

1.  Wear tight shirts!
2.  Don’t wear outfits that don’t flatter your bum.
3.  Wear heels, unless you are tall, in which case you should wear flats so you don’t threaten your date.
4.  Go Brazilian!
5.  Ask “out of the ordinary questions” on a first date, such as “what is your favorite sports team?”

Most disturbing to me and several of our reviewers is the chauvinistic bent that underlies his entire view of relationships. It’s back to the fifties all over again – albeit it with a lot more sex. He chastised a group of young women at a reading for not knowing how to cook and emphasized the importance of the guy asking the girl out – since strong women scare men. The final straw was his advice to minimize professional accomplishments when getting to know someone “…unless, of course your job involved a pole and you don’t work for the fire department.” He advises answering questions about your job “briefly” and sprinkling job talk with self-deprecating jokes.

However, many of our reviewers noted that perhaps he gets the big picture right, at least when it comes to the “How Men Think” part of the title. As one pointed out: “whether you’re single or married, you’ve got to heed this ‘hole. He may or may not realize the irony of casting his sex in such a superficial light, nor may he care. In truth, guys are that simple.”