At just over 80 little pages, this is not an exhaustive study nor a perfectly-balanced and modern textbook on masculine psychology. But it’s a brilliant little read with a lot of insight and a sense of wit. It competently rides the metaphor of myth to make itself approachable, a thing many academics fail to do, ending up in a morass of symbolism. 

“He” stumbles on the occasional psycho-religious pothole, but it seemed all the more charming for it. Maybe it’s just because I mostly read this outside on a perfect spring day, internalizing my own fair maiden.