I read this book in college. At first I liked it, but when I read it again it fell flat. I was frustrated by the main character and wanted to shake her and tell her to get over herself, that her life wasn't so bad.
And she failed when it came to having good taste in men. I'd hate to be with a guy who didn't know the basics in hygiene.
There's just way too much whining in this book.

When you're ready to graduate from Judy Blume, this is it.

I found this very dated and not relevant to women today. Not only because the zipless fuck is less likely to happen but because the book dosen't seem to approach realtionships with any equality. The psychology of the book seemed like the most outdated part. For me the writting was not good enough to overcome the shortcomings of the story. I appreciate that the the book for the impact it made on women's sexual liberation and freedom, but not relevant in today's sexual practices or norms. More intresting as a historical artifact then as a novel.

She rambles on about her past relationships, self-analysis and attempts to "find herself" while lacking any writerly style. We can all rant and rave about past lovers and misadventures. Doesn't mean we should write a book wallowing about feeling lost. And the fact that Henry Miller, a world-class misogynist, recommends this book should only be an indicator that it is a vapid recount of a woman being exactly the way he sees females: lost puppies looking to screw for love and meaning.