Take a photo of a barcode or cover
A review by chaos_fairy
Aphrodite: A Memoir of the Senses by Isabel Allende
adventurous
challenging
funny
informative
reflective
medium-paced
4.0
I chose this book for it's author rather than it's specific content, and have no intention of preparing an aphrodisiac meal or hosting a Bacchanalia, but that did not take from the pleasure of Allende's sensual, evocative storytelling. In this memoir inspired by food, every sensory detail is relished -- the colour, shape, texture, taste and sound of each ingredient as it is prepared and eaten. And weaved throughout is Allende's impeccable wit and humour. If the recipes of the book (contributed by Allende's mother, Doña Panchita) held no aphrodisiac powers before being brought to life in Aphrodite by Allende's memoir, they would gain them through it's captivating and erotic descriptive power.
It is not, however, all pleasure. Allende does not shy away from the less savoury details of food and sex. While a great deal of the storytelling ignited in me a desire to go to the kitchen and cook, some other passages had the opposite effect - at one point I wished I hadn't been listening to the audiobook while eating my own lunch. Some of these less appetising details include descriptions of cruel methods of obtaining or preparing animal-based ingredients and some mentions of cannibalism. To be clear, Allende does not endorse either, but in reporting her research she to be thorough. One description of a particular regional delicacy might make arachnophobes, among others, queasy. For me, the most off-putting commentary was anything which lamented the impact of certain foods on the waistline; though I took it with a grain of salt considering it was written in the 90's when Allende was living in, of all places, California.
Edible and inedible details aside, the human stories of Aphrodite also serve to both appeal and repulse. Drawn from Allende's own experiences as well as those of friends and family, as well as tales from folklore, history, poetry and fiction, they all convey the connection between eroticism and food with visceral (but never pornographic) detail. Allende writes about sexuality with an earthy and mature comfort. She is rarely judgemental, except when being wry or tongue-in-cheek. This is refreshing in most places, but hard to swallow when there are mentions, however brief, of certain sexual perversions or abuses. There is mention of a sex worker who, although a grandmother like Allende, indulges paedophilic fetishes of clients through roleplay. Another narrative which unsettled me deeply, largely because Allende's writing is so enthralling, is that of a solo female traveller finding herself alone, outside a rural village, deeply uncomfortable with a group of men who do not heed her requests to be brought back to her hotel in the city. This is in the time before mobile phones and Ubers. The story aroused in me an intense anxiety, and a primal and upsetting frustration with the men who don't take her home when she asks. I could only breath easily when the tale ended with her unscathed.
These discomforts are not a criticism of Aphrodite, they are simply a part of it's recipe. I enjoyed the book so immensely I would recommend it to lovers of food, and lovers of sensuality, and lovers of excellent writing. It inspired me to think about cooking, about reading and about writing. But it is not simply a blissful journey through erotic scents and food play. There will certainly be something in it's pages that make you uncomfortable. It is often timeless, but occasionally very much a product of the nineties. If nothing else, the numbers of ways one can consume animal testicles may make you question how adventurous you really are in the kitchen. However, for every twinge of discomfort or revulsion, there is a hundred times more pleasure and humour, and perhaps meal ideas, to be found.
It is not, however, all pleasure. Allende does not shy away from the less savoury details of food and sex. While a great deal of the storytelling ignited in me a desire to go to the kitchen and cook, some other passages had the opposite effect - at one point I wished I hadn't been listening to the audiobook while eating my own lunch. Some of these less appetising details include descriptions of cruel methods of obtaining or preparing animal-based ingredients and some mentions of cannibalism. To be clear, Allende does not endorse either, but in reporting her research she to be thorough. One description of a particular regional delicacy might make arachnophobes, among others, queasy. For me, the most off-putting commentary was anything which lamented the impact of certain foods on the waistline; though I took it with a grain of salt considering it was written in the 90's when Allende was living in, of all places, California.
Edible and inedible details aside, the human stories of Aphrodite also serve to both appeal and repulse. Drawn from Allende's own experiences as well as those of friends and family, as well as tales from folklore, history, poetry and fiction, they all convey the connection between eroticism and food with visceral (but never pornographic) detail. Allende writes about sexuality with an earthy and mature comfort. She is rarely judgemental, except when being wry or tongue-in-cheek. This is refreshing in most places, but hard to swallow when there are mentions, however brief, of certain sexual perversions or abuses. There is mention of a sex worker who, although a grandmother like Allende, indulges paedophilic fetishes of clients through roleplay. Another narrative which unsettled me deeply, largely because Allende's writing is so enthralling, is that of a solo female traveller finding herself alone, outside a rural village, deeply uncomfortable with a group of men who do not heed her requests to be brought back to her hotel in the city. This is in the time before mobile phones and Ubers. The story aroused in me an intense anxiety, and a primal and upsetting frustration with the men who don't take her home when she asks. I could only breath easily when the tale ended with her unscathed.
These discomforts are not a criticism of Aphrodite, they are simply a part of it's recipe. I enjoyed the book so immensely I would recommend it to lovers of food, and lovers of sensuality, and lovers of excellent writing. It inspired me to think about cooking, about reading and about writing. But it is not simply a blissful journey through erotic scents and food play. There will certainly be something in it's pages that make you uncomfortable. It is often timeless, but occasionally very much a product of the nineties. If nothing else, the numbers of ways one can consume animal testicles may make you question how adventurous you really are in the kitchen. However, for every twinge of discomfort or revulsion, there is a hundred times more pleasure and humour, and perhaps meal ideas, to be found.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Animal cruelty, Animal death, Confinement, Infidelity, Sexual content, Blood, Vomit, Alcohol, Sexual harassment
Minor: Addiction, Body shaming, Fatphobia, Pedophilia, Sexism, Sexual assault, Slavery, Terminal illness, Cannibalism