Writing about sex is tricky for the female author in a climate that favours brazen Bukowski-esque directness. Yet while I may be excommunicated for admitting that Catherine Millet's infamous memoir The Sexual Life of Catherine M left me bored and numb rather than shocked or thrilled, I do believe that, by default of their gender, women's sex diaries have to negotiate inevitable obstacles of taboo, feminist rhetoric and cliché on a route littered with opportunities for self-indulgence. And now a chaste diary? I was intrigued as to whom Hephzibah Anderson's memoir was intended for, and what exactly Chastened was hoping to impart to its readers that The Rules had not already given them 10 years earlier.
The book is structurally simple. Set over a year during which the author renounces penetrative sex in the hope of finding love, each chapter is pegged to a theme with a corresponding romantic date and its backstory. Observations on the representation of sex in cinema coincide with a date at the movies. Musings on the expression of sexuality through dress culminate in a date to which the author wears a new blouse.
In contrast with the neat structure, the elegant prose is meandering and poetic - a brave stylistic choice, given that so much current writing about sexuality leans towards the "gritty", "edgy" and "subversive", perhaps seeking to intellectualise the subject in an era when glamour, romance or florid language might be construed as frivolous or sentimental.
Needless to say, as a dieter can think only of food, Anderson is utterly focused on past and prospective relationships - and on sex. She rationalises, philosophises and psychologises sex, relationships and seduction with every encounter, kiss, or memory of a past night of passion. She imparts her wisdom with accessible and informative references that generally steer clear of cliché, and if her pertinent theorising has a whiff of Naomi Wolf about it, it comes with a rose- and honeysuckle-scented haze.
This can border on the relentless, however; even a shopping trip is imbued with gravitas. "Here in the dressing room, every coat hanger holds an opportunity for subtle reinvention, a sharp cut-out just waiting to shape whoever brings it to life ..." At such moments I longed for some light relief; for humour that would stretch to more than a quip.
In essence, the theorising is there to make Anderson's experiences more relevant to her readers than what might otherwise have been just an endless recollection of a thirtysomething's affairs, dates and bids for male attention. The narrative thread struggles to hold together in places, and the jeopardy of staying chaste diminishes.
I was also confused by Anderson's parameters. Perplexingly, despite her pledge, she continues an intimate sexual relationship as Jake the translator's mistress; a frustrating initial affair with him was the catalyst for her vow of chastity. The second wave of the affair is seemingly still on the man's terms - and she still wants "more of him than he's able to give emotionally". Surely sexual encounters of the kind that would, after all, be classed as intercourse in a lesbian relationship throw Anderson's notion of chastity into question? Moreover, chastity cannot be considered in isolation; the power balance in a relationship is not determined by sex alone.
Ultimately as one who projects glamour, tease, seduction and sensuality for a living, the message I drew from Chastened is that seduction is a commodity more valuable than sex. What I do on stage is to reinforce the notion of feminine allure, mystique, otherworldliness and the glorification of women's sexuality and femaleness; for me, a counter-swing of the feminist pendulum from the "liberated" ladette of the 90s. I find a greater liberation in holding on to our power by not giving everything away, and that applies beyond sex itself. In this book Anderson speaks to women of her own age and younger, who have grown up in a time when "quick hit" culture and accessibility - in every sense - reign supreme; as well as to those who don't believe in "the rules", and are interested in someone negotiating another version in her own sweet, poetic way.
• Immodesty Blaize is a burlesque dancer who was crowned Reigning Queen of Burlesque 2007 in Las Vegas.
