I regularly give nonfiction three-star ratings. I don't read a lot of it. The two stars is because of how this book was written and edited. Trigger warnings for this book include but are not limited to: historical and social examinations of misogyny--lots and lots of it; the huge double standard that exists; and historical pedophilia. I don't doubt all the research she did. This book is informative, educational, a lot of it still stands, and it got me wondering a little if society or medicine had advanced in any other way around virginity since. I read this when it first came out. Fourteen years later, I only remembered what turned out to be a few pages. The book flows well. It starts out with medical and historical aspects, with some pop culture references. An enormous hunk of the book examines Christianity's relationship and influence on virginity and its perception, with Catholicism not far behind. Judaism is often mentioned, but Jewish attitudes towards sex are wildly different so they're not presented side-by-side. Pop culture and Western attitudes are increasingly examined as the book progresses. It was trying to be linear, and it did a good job. The author, however, makes bad puns and stupid jokes often. She was trying to break up sections that could be dry, but her choices were annoying. She contradicts herself otften without explaining why, and only sometimes acknowledges it. Her sentences are too wordy. Some, I had to read out loud three times in an attempt to figure out what was going on. In the introduction, she says there's little information. Then she says there's a lot. She says not to see her book as the sum total of research, then says there's not that many books out there. That virginity wasn't important, then that it clearly was. Make up your mind, lady.

From beginning to end, all of this book except for a few paragraphs are about straight female virginity, or just female virginity in the context of historically rooted and ever-present lesbian erasure. At times while reading this, I wondered what Blank thought of the Lonely Island song "I Just Had Sex," a lighthearted take on male virginity loss. The song came out shortly after this book was written. I wondered how she would have interpreted it in the context of her book, and to herself as a consumer of pop culture. Especially now in 2021 as of this review writing, when there are TikTok trends of playing the song upon acknowledgement of virginity loss for all genders. I watched a few that were intended as lighthearted celebration and giggled.

The conclusion doesn't feel like one. It feels like she wanted to hurry up and finish the book. Given the style of it and the poor writing, I don't blame her. I'm glad this was written. It was well-researched and brought a lot of things to light. ( )

Engaging, all things considered. Also, lots of historical info I never learned in school. ( )

This is a fascinating look at virginity, both the medical/scientific aspects and the cultural/social issues surrounding it. I especially enjoyed the science/medical portion of the book as much of this information was new to me. The author talks about the physical characteristics of the hymen and why so little is really known about it. I was more familiar with the cultural issues discussed in the second half of the book, and I think the author did a good job of compiling and contextualizing these issues. Very interesting read. ( )

I picked this book up because it seemed like an interesting subject, from a female perspective. The book was indeed very interesting. It explores the concept and perception of virginity from sociological, biological and historical perspectives. What struck me over and over again is how the concept of virginity is used to control women, in one way or another. I found the parts of the book focused on modern times to be the most interesting, and I would have liked the author to explore other concepts, such as purity balls (the concept of which creeps me out). Very enjoyable for women or readers looking for quirky non-fiction. ( )

Kindof a neat idea. I assume it's about me, since I have a history of being a virgin.