The Sensuous Couple

Robert Chartham

There may, in fact, be five people left on the face of the planet who believe the stated purpose of that particularly amusing subgenre of self-help book known as the sex manual: to assist the uninhibited in their never-ending quest for pleasure, and to help the inhibited get over the hurdles that stop them from fully enjoying themselves both in and out of bed. This idea is, to put it somewhat mildly, a tad overidealistic. The libertines already know most of it (if not all), and the ascetics are going to read six pages, stop, and wonder what in the world they were thinking of buying such a pornographic piece of trash in the first place. In other words, you’re either preaching to the choir or not preaching at all.

This isn’t to say the choir doesn’t enjoy being preached to, and those aspirants who get their hands on such things (would-be libertines, usually between the ages of ten and eighteen, usually male but not always) are usually the most appreciative of them. That said, it should be no surprise that the publishers of said sex manuals are fully aware of what their target audience is, and it should be equally unsurprising that said sex manuals are written with that exact demographic in mind.

The Sensuous Couple is no exception to the rule. The language used therein is readable by the average seventh-grader (with the obligatory occasional dirty word thrown in for thrill value), as are the instructions. Chartham’s advice, similarly, is nothing out of the ordinary and doesn’t head into any uncharted, or even stormy, waters. Nothing that will cause Aunt Mabel to have a heart attack, though she may seem somewhat flushed after thumbing through a few pages.

I have little doubt that legions of adolescents owe Robert Chartham (and his anonymous cronies who write the two books to which this is the companion, The Sensuous Woman and The Sensuous Man) a great debt of gratitude for helping them get laid. I have even less doubt that their respective partners owe Chartham an even greater debt, as your average libertine is far less likely to grow up a philandering wifebeater. But boy, it would be nice to see Ballantine and the other publishers of such volumes drop publishing’s worst-kept secret and just come out with it.