She helps the reader digest ideas about soul-crushing systematic oppression with her absurdist humor. She upends conventional tropes of romantic comedies in a thoughtful, nonshaming way (spoiler: Tom Hanks is the villain). She starts with a deep analysis of levels of good and bad crushing, then explores the emotional labor of flirting, applies literary theory to texts from dudes, contemplates the horrors of (theoretical) cohabitation, and ends with a quasi manifesto for making art out of one’s love troubles. Roberson is a self-described “horned-up perv,” but she’s also well versed in feminist literature and is lethal with a non sequitur. Instead of useful advice, she offers a survival manual for cis straight women living in a patriarchal society that undervalues their work but who still want to smooch hot guys. The title of Roberson’s first book sounds like a dating manual it is so much better than that.
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