Charlie Duff, "Detroit: An American Autopsy" (2013)

A beautiful book. Duff spares no one in his commentary from inside the belly of the corpse that is contemporary Detroit. From the trials faced by emergency responders, police, newspaper folk, regular citizens, the under- and unemployed, the homeless, city politicians, business owners, criminals... they all play a role in the decrepit stage Duff narrates his story upon.

His story is not merciless; he clearly loves the city he grew up in, and returned to. He has family there, who much like the city itself, struggle with decay, loss of dignity, and poor coping mechanisms. They figure in his story as well.

Elegiac in tone, unsparing in its assessment, frightening in its observations, Duff has indeed offered an autopsy for a patient who has died. The city he describes is a new thing, a shell of the destroyed American dream.

John Holmes, "Porn King: The Autobiography..." (2012)

The book was written/dictated by Holmes before his death, but Holmes added a preface and published the work posthumously.

As with many autobiographies by former porn stars, Holmes tells a tale of degradation and depredation. While he first enjoyed the opportunity to have sex for money (both the physical pleasure and economic perks), the opportunities being a porn actor opened up for him - both positive and negative - eventually led Holmes down paths of consumption and behaviour that would eventually lead to his demise from AIDS-related causes.

His story is simple and compelling. He makes little effort to glorify his work, or to romanticize the life it led him into. He also does not vilify his work or personal associates. Instead, his autobiography seems like a quiet reflection offered by a man who knows the end of his days are near, and merely want to leave some more meaningful or fuller record of his experience than pictures of himself having sex.

Marquis de Sade, "Philosophy in the Bedroom" (1795)

Philosophy... reminds me of the kind of book that Anton LaVey might have written in another era.

I am surprised by how much of this book deals with politics. The popular understanding of de Sade's writing focuses on his sexual "libertinage." The book does contain a significant and frank discussion of sexuality, and works to 'shock' the reader with both the acts described and the logic behind these acts. The logic, however, is what is by far the most interesting.

De Sade's characters argue for a multitude of sexual acts that might still be regarded as immoral by many today (sodomy, homosexuality, group sex, etc.). The occasion of all of these acts within the book is explained, however, as political resistance to the established order of post-revolutionary France. Philosophy..., in short, is a somewhat far-fetched argument for a form of liberal republicanism taken to its extreme. Murder and rape are explained as necessary to be permitted out of respect for 'natural laws' and individual rights to pursue whatever actions one is able.

In its focus on political argument and philosophic approach to sexuality, Philosophy... is less pornographic than politicized sex. Discussions of sexual congress are presented more as lists of actions than lovingly dwelt upon or fetishized as might be expected.

De Sade takes up a number of challenging arguments that will not, in some respects, appear unfamiliar to a modern reader. He emphasizes libertarianism, suggesting that females should be free of artificial constraints to pursue pleasure, as should be men. His characters recognize that this is impossible within their times, however, so advocates subversion from within accepted contracts, behind closed doors, through paid relationships with servants, etc.

Using inexorable, though troubling argument, De Sade valourizes homosexuality, incest, sodomy, and crossing gender roles (e.g., women anally penetrating men with dildos). For instance, De Sade's characters argue for anal sex as a wise and pleasurable means to avoid unwanted pregnancy. Additionally, with the reproductive element removed, producing pleasurable sensations, and allowed by nature (if not invited by it through the physically complementary traits of the anal sphincter and phallus), de Sade's characters suggest there is every reason for men to copulate with men (and that this might even be more honourable than heterosexual copulation, in that it is more 'liberated' from conventional morality).

His characters deride charity of any kind, as they feel it diminishes the individual’s will to power. They similarly attack state charity as attracting the poor and removing their desire to succeed.

They suggest murder and violence are useful, admirable, and natural, but recommend that such pursuits (particularly the former) be carried out without aid from assistants, as these open oneself to increased risk.

Perhaps most surprising in a book that I suspected to be full of lewd, and quaintly shocking Enlightenment-era pornography was the inclusion of lengthy ‘text within a text’, elaborating an extensive argument for a kind of extreme republicanism, wherein the rights of the individual to practice any act must be allowed, and indeed, in many cases, facilitated.

This text suggests that society must allow individuals to act on their ‘natural’ desires, and that these desires left free to play themselves out will act as a kind of self-regulation. With regard to murder, offers a quotation from a Cologne ruler who judged a murderer, saying: “I absolve you of killing, and I also absolve the person who will kill you.”


Ross Stein has written a clear, concise, and pretty accurate summation of this book at Examiner.com.

Alexandra Highcrest, "At Home On The Stroll" (1997)

The subtitle of this book clarifies what it is really about: "My Twenty Years As A Prostitute In Canada."

In short, the story of a northern Ontario boy who moves to Toronto, begins working as a prostitute, finds the life not particularly objectionable (especially the money), makes some friends, conflicts with family, deals with some bad tricks, begins to experiment with living as a woman, leaves the trade, becomes an advocate. An intriguing story that doesn't wallow in polemicizing about the evils of prostitution, or preaching the virtues of liberal live-and-let-live economics. It is one person's story, one person's analysis, and a very humane one at that.

Belinda Beaton has written a very good review of this book in Books in Canada.

Chester Brown, "Paying for It" (2011)

Brown has managed to concoct an memoir style graphic novel that chronicles his life as a 'john'; a man who pays women for sex. Of course, the novel is bound to be controversial. Brown has included an abundance of philosophical, political, and historical arguments in favour of deregulating, if not legalizing prostitution in Canada. While his ideas are interesting, they are unlikely to switch the thinking of anyone.

Less often explored in discussion of the book is the conundrum (characteristic of all autobiography) of separating fact from fiction, elimination of uncomfortable truths, and introduction of fictional elements to support a particular narrative outcome. In all the interactions Brown includes, his communication with the prostitute is generally either positive, or coldly analytical and unemotional. Perhaps this is the mindset that must be adopted to 'pay for it', but it does not help the reader understand some of the difficult questions the book raises but unsatisfactorily covers. For instance, what proportion of prostitutes are the clever, savvy, independent women Brown describes, and how many of them are transported here under false pretences, kept against their will or shamefully manipulated into the sex trade, and don't want to do this kind of work? Brown does narrate to a certain degree that he exercised choice as a john, perhaps seeking out prostitutes who seemed in control of their own business, but it does not eliminate the reality that many men do not, and in fact might seek out a capitalist bottom-line of 'getting their nut greased' at the cheapest price possible over some kind of sexual libertarianist praxis.

Brad Mackay reviewed the novel in the Globe and Mail (30 Apr. 2011).

Brian Heater wrote a far better review in the Daily Crosshatch (6 Jun. 2011).