Kirshenbaum does some things for you here that I really appreciate--and that a lot of other people who find themselves in this sad, confusing situation will too. But it's not really the things you'd expect. The touchy-feely title promises understanding, commmiseration, ultimately absolution and a faith that you didn't want things to be like this. And I think that must attract a lot of people feeling crippled by remorse and fear that they'll get into another situation as intolerable as the one they created, so Kirshenbaum is to a certain extent savvily marketing or preying on the vulnerable, depending on your perspective.


And while she does make the right noises, comfort's not her thing; she figures clear vision and bold actions will fix the problem, and that will be a comfort in and of itself. Basically 90% of this book is "which one do you choose? Your partner, your lover, or neither?" And so she goes through all the aspects that you know but need a calm, cool third party to walk through with you--what are they like in themselves? With you? What are you like with them? Can you connect? Respect one another? Have fun? Hotly do it? These are essential questions for those people hung up at this stage of the process.


But for those of us who have come to terms with exactly what we were doing when we were doing, and why, something in which we can be aided by Kirshenbaum's seventeen-types affair schemata, this is actually less of a problem than the popular view would seem to suggest.


So I guess what I'm suggesting in short is that the "here's what you were trying to do, and why you wanted to do right by everyone, and here's why it didn't go that way" stuff was good for me and could have been expanded, and the "here's what you do now" stuff was only of limited relevance, but could be more so for someone who was still in the situation, as opposed to trying to understand it retroactively. And then there's the kind of weird upper middle-class American thing about pandering to the soggy middle in all things, and the weird subterranean anti-poor prejudices that go along with it, and you get the feeling Kirshenbaum wouldn't be your favourite person, but she helps you out here, man. I guess what makes a good therapist is (partly? mostly?) the ability to put yourself in someone else's shoes, and what makes a good writer is the ability to convey that in a compelling and real way, and Kirshenbaum has the former but not so much the latter, and you need a spoonful of genteel intellectualism sometimes to make the bald assertions, the "THERE ARE SEVENTEEN TYPES OF AFFAIRS" and "YOU NEED ALL OF THESE CONDITIONS TO SUCCEED IN A RELATIONSHIP ALWAYS" and "NEVER TELL" (and with this one especially I have a complex relationship that is nevertheless ultimately defined by my total rejection of it as a principle of conduct) that sometimes in this book we see. ( )