Adventures of Tantra Girl

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for providing this book in exchange for an honest review.
This is a fascinating book about a lesser known side of life. The stories are honest, experiences are good and bad, and there is plenty to laugh about. The different cultures' perspectives were interesting too.

Let me begin by addressing the standout titular word: Tantra. Please forgive this diversion, but I do so because tantra means different things in different contexts, and I review a lot of books on yoga – a domain in which it has a vastly different meaning than it does in the book under review (particularly in India, where I currently reside.) What is meant in the context of this book is what is called “neotantra” or “Western neotantra.” (The author uses “neotantra” at various points for clarification.)

Before moving on with the review, let me clarify the connection. The original Tantra was (and is) a ritual- and practice-centric (versus scriptural-centric) system that is said to predate (and serve as basis for much of) yoga. In old school tantra, there are right- and left-handed practices. The latter involve activities that had the potential to be addictive distractions but which, practiced mindfully and conscientiously, were also seen to be routes to an elevated state of consciousness (i.e. activities normally prohibited and / or frowned upon by mainstream religion.) The left-handed practices include, but are not limited to, sexual practices that build bodily and mental control as part of the act of sex. Having been around for over a millennium, Tantra has experienced a number of break-away schisms (e.g. Buddhism has a set of Tantric practices that began from Tantra and was adapted to the uniquely Buddhist needs.) The most recent of these schisms is neotantra, which took the sex-based practices from among a much broader body of practices, and then added to them (both from other systems, e.g. Taoism, and by way of practices invented by present-day practitioners.) While Tantra isn’t well-known in the West at all, when it’s spoken of it’s almost entirely in the context of this sex-centric collection of practices – hence the fact that it’s often called “Western Neotantra.”

Now, to the point: This book consists mostly of exposé style stories about the author’s life as a tantric masseuse, with a few poems and artworks peppered in here and there. I gradually warmed to the book over the course of reading it. My early feeling was that, for an exposé meant to show one a behind-the-scenes look at an environment most of us have no interaction with, it felt guarded. In part, this might have been because the book goes from more to less idyllic events, but it also felt like there was an attempt to give the reader more of what they wanted to hear rather than to expose them to reality. For example, there is a scene involving one scantily (or un-) dressed girl feeding another a banana, and one thinks, “I see what you’re trying to do here, and it's more an attempt to appeal to what a horny man-child thinks beautiful women do in each other’s company than what they actually do.”

That said, it did feel that the author opened up gradually over the course of the book. The last few chapters deal more with the author’s personal relationships than with her work and these parts seem to be both more emotionally open as well as more sexually adventuresome (as the limits of activity in her relationships presumably surpass those in her work.) There are few places in which the author seems judgmental for someone for whom one might be inclined to think should “judge not lest she be judged,” but there is an intriguing insight in which she is going to tell a co-worker about her own (daddy issue-related quasi-taboo kink) when she is mortified to find herself shut-down by said co-worker [who thinks it’s over-the-line.]

The core of the book tells stories of the good, the bad, and the ugly of the author’s clientele. She starts with clients she enjoyed working with, then those that she didn’t, and then those with whom the experience was some form of waking nightmare.

The drawings and poetry I will leave be as expressions of author’s personality. The inclusion of them is a bold choice, and I don’t know whether they are meant advance the impression that one is reading a diary or not, but add to an amateurish feel. That said, they also don’t account for much of the page space and may offer some psychological insight that is beyond me.

If you’re curious about what the life of a sensual masseuse is like, you’ll certainly get a taste of it from this book. I found it interesting and educational.