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grubstlodger's review against another edition
3.0
Not as good as Norman Inkpen's 'Shit Jokes: A history of scatological humour'.
uncle_remus's review against another edition
I did not finish. While I read the first 36 pages, I found it interesting and, despite the subject manner, well done. But, I never could find myself to open it again to continue reading. I am not sure why. It seems a bit childish to be so obsessed in writing on this topic. And while well done, the subject is a bit tasteless (pun intended). Maybe if I didn't have a stack of 200-something interesting unread books staring at me, I might have finished.
spookybeast's review against another edition
3.0
After really enjoying the free Kindle sample of this book, I was excited to finally have some spare cash to download the whole shebang. And while it was a funny and diverting (and very speedy) read, I was a bit disappointed. I love cultural histories ("Drink" by Iain Gately, "The Monster Show" by David J. Skal, "At Home" by Bill Bryson, etc) but this one ended up feeling a bit.... fluffy. There are a great many long quoted passages that the author relies on perhaps a bit too much, and his prose doesn't do a lot to offer contextualized interpretations of the gas that's been passed throughout history. His central theme seems to be that dudes think farts are funny and women think farts are embarrassing--not one of the greatest insights of human history. More generally, the book felt somehow incomplete and given short-shrift; the author includes quotes from Mozart's scatological letters to his mother and cousin, and dedicates some serious page time to Howard Stern, so it seems odd that he would have overlooked James Joyce's infamous obsession with his wife's anal eructations and the psychology of what it is that anyone ever finds appealing about our backsides at all.
In conclusion, I concede that perhaps I am being too critical of such a breezy subject and if you're looking for some light reading this book might be right up your, ahem, alley.
In conclusion, I concede that perhaps I am being too critical of such a breezy subject and if you're looking for some light reading this book might be right up your, ahem, alley.
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