Hey, pretty lady. Hello, super fox. Hi, beautiful, intelligent, superstar woman. These condescending affirmations fill every page of "He's Just Not That Into You: The No-Excuses Truth to Understanding Guys," a now infamous manifesto by Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo, consultant and writer, respectively, for everyone's favorite ragingly self-obsessed show, "Sex and the City."
With Valentine's Day looming, everyone's mind naturally turns towards love and sex. More specifically, everyone wants to know how to get the former, the latter, or both. Don't look to "He's Just Not That Into You" for help.
Holding the No. 4 spot on the New York Times Best-seller List for hardcover advice books, this self-help book has managed to eclipse even Arthur Agatston's "The South Beach Diet" in sales. If in time, it's discovered that actually practicing the South Beach Diet causes appendicitis, gangrene or the growth of a third eye, it would still be healthier than applying the fundamentally flawed and psychologically unsound logic of "Into You" to your life. Not to mention that "South Beach Diet" is probably a better read.
From Oprah to the girl down the hall, "sexy singles" have hailed this 165-page book and six-word phrase as a revelation, but it's not clear what exactly has been revealed. Each chapter is titled, "He's Just Not That Into You..." followed by a standard unfavorable dating scenario: "He's not calling you," "He's not dating you," or, most bewilderingly, "He's having sex with someone else." Did anyone need help figuring that out?
When the scenarios aren't obvious, they're throwbacks to another era. This dated would-be dating bible applies to a certain generation: specifically those who got married before or during the 1960s. Chapter One: "He's Just Not That Into You If He's Not Asking You Out." Fair enough-but the actual moral of this chapter is infuriating, setting the tone for the entire book.
Don't ask out men. Don't allow excuses. Dump him when he's too "busy" for you ("busy" is a non-word to Behrendt and Tuccillo). So dump him - when his mother dies, when he suddenly becomes the President of the United States, or when he saves an entire busload full of orphans on the way to church and forgets to call.
The so-called advice is sugar-coated in a mildly nauseating tone, which is something of a mixture of Dr. Phil and classic 1990s you-go-girl. Overly formulaic and too cutesy to be real, the chapters belabor each point, set into pictures of stationery "From the Desk of Greg." It's a gimmick that does little to distract from the jerky structure and redundant content of the book.
The advice is primarily doled out by Behrendt (or just Greg, as he's referred to throughout). Embracing yet another stereotype, Greg is the enforcer whose tough love will bring even the most deluded woman to the light, or the altar-depending on her goal. Tuccillo (or just Liz, of course) is called in to nurture and empathize (since only girls can do that) when Greg cuts too deep, but she sticks to the party line. He's just not that into you, sister-friend.
There's no liberation to be found in this skinny little book. Instead, the stereotypes and dated cultural conventions are at odds with the alleged superwoman tone, insultingly rendered, and probably psychologically damaging to the young and hopeful. A well-adjusted person should look to this book for a few laughs, and possibly for firewood kindling.
The target audience of the book, the well-educated, high-class, older woman (a Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte, or Samantha perhaps?) deserves more credit. Anyone deserves more credit.
There's something to be said for the attempted upbeat message of empowerment. Encouraging women not to be unrealistic and not to settle for a relationship that is beneath them, is worthwhile. Unfortunately this message is too poorly executed and tackily belabored to actually hit the reader.
