Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Deep Inside A Sex Pervert's Diary

Currently experiencing a relentless illness, so posts have been spotty at best for the last few months. Reading has been difficult. I've been unable to focus on anything for more than five minutes.

I sense recovery is finally afoot since I was able to get through Joji Numata's A Sex Pervert's Diary in less than 24 hours. I consumed this book like a hungry alligator and relished its raw, nihilistic truth.

The book shares common ground with Brett Eastin Ellis's American Psycho in that the focus here is also on minutia -- in this case, minutia associated with erotomania (or sexual obsession).

The book is initially structured like a first person piece of non-fiction in which the narrator describes his obsessions and fetishes in excruciatingly fine detail. You get the sense that he might be a reformed pervert (and I mean that in the nicest way) who's done some jail time and has finally seen the "error" of his ways. Thankfully, this isn't the case.

Although I have no proof, fact is surely molesting fiction here, and it is the book's blending of an authentic Japanese perspective on girl trolling with ultra-deviant fantasies that makes it such a ripping good read. Although it is focused exclusively on a thirty-seven year old Japanese man's attempt to wrestle with his erotic demons, the book will speak to men everywhere. It is, in fact, a chillingly truthful expose of the way men think and what drives them.

I've always said that if women were privy to the carnal carnival of the male mind, the majority would board planes en masse and flee in terror from the oncoming scourge. To be fair, a minority of honest women would remain behind and probably enjoy the party. Both types of women will take different lessons from the hot literary lava bubbling inside the covers of this gem.

'As always, the sight of a naked girl was disappointing at first,' Numata writes. 'The anticipation and fantasizing had built up my expectations to a pitch which couldn't possibly be matched by the real thing. The moment I'm faced with the reality of a woman's naked body, I only see her defects. But soon the imperfections no longer seem as important. The mere fact that I am seeing her in such a shameful condition gives me a thrill which goes beyond any aesthetic satisfaction I might derive from admiring a body's beauty.'

The Japanese definition of "shame" in a constant through the book, carrying the weight of a potent aphrodisiac.

Numata's describing of the vagina as a "clam" makes for numerous memorable passages. His ruminations on men's bizarre and contrary relationship with the clam is often hilarious, disturbing, and priceless.

'They should hold contests to see which girl has the most attractive clam. And they should show nothing but the clam, never mind about her face or the rest of her body. What if an unattractive, chubby little slut had a gem of an omanko (vagina)? Wouldn't that be a nice irony? And then we should be able to see all those omankos of all those beautiful girls with their perfect bodies. Wrinkly blue-gray blubber lips hidden away down between their legs. They should go around with photographs of their clams hanging around their necks with a caption proclaiming: "This is what we really look like inside." Omankos are basically ugly things, and smelly to boot. If men weren't programmed to be triggered into lust by the sight of them, we would avoid them like the plague. You don't know what it's like when a girl is all hot and aroused, in heat, and she spreads her thighs before you to reveal that ugly clam. Basically, a man buries his penis into it just to avoid looking at it.'

Personally, I find vaginas to be extraordinarily enchanting (with some exceptions), so I'm not with Numata on this issue -- still, it is his stubborn adherence to a dizzying point of view that makes every word of this book a chewable feast.

Like Patrick Bateman in American Psycho, the protagonist pervert of A Sex Pervert's Diary is a supreme provocateur, and you will not tire of his non-stop ranting and instructive commentary on everything sexual from upskirt photography to changing room stalking to teenage prostitution to fetishes red, yellow, brown and cotton.

First published in Japan in 2003, the book became a bestseller immediately and continues to sell with the speed of a drunk girl's panties being yanked to her knees.

Highly recommended with warnings for sensitive souls.

The book is published in the US by iUniverse, Inc.

Translation is by Thomas Boggs.


  1. Well I'm sold. I'm somewhat more than obsessed with Japan, so a book like this is right my particular gai. BTW, "fact is surely molesting fiction here" -- brilliant.

  2. And not forgetting a brilliantly incisive & revealing Foreword by His Holiness, the Dalai Lama.

    I spoke to the Lama the other day, & he agrees with you about the clam- as do I, Phantom; he said he never saw a Beaver he didn't like.

    And the Lama would know...