Certain words never fail to catch my eye, and I suppose I would count “castration” among them. I ran across a fairly angry review of Jake Wizner’s book Castration Celebration in the New York Post this week that piqued my interest. So I did some digging. And then I did some considering. And now I will share with you the results of both.

Apparently Castration Celebration is a coming-of-age story of sorts, set at a summer arts camp at Yale. Olivia, the 17-year-old protagonist, decides to forswear men after a traumatizing experience and sets out “to write a musical that censures men with wandering eyes.” Max, a fellow camper with a wandering eye, sets out to win Olivia’s heart. I imagine that crazy antics ensue, complete with new and exciting uses of the word “castration.”

Andrea Peyser, the author of the angry NY Post article, says that: “the nastiest thing about this book is that it’s not offered for sale in a brown paper bag by some oily character.” Peyser is furious that such a story was even written, but even more furious that it is being marketed for young adults. It depicts things like underage drinking, binge drinking, drug use, sex, and includes copious references to castration…all without passing judgment or lecturing to kids that they should not be engaging in these things. Peyser is concerned about the impressionable youth, I suppose. Ah….the impressionable youth.

I have not read this book, so I cannot pass judgment or offer criticism. But what I can say is that whether we like it or not, the story of what it means to be young these days is probably much better captured in unapologetic tales of substance abuse than in the Babysitter’s Club series that I devoured as a preteen. I imagine that Wizner’s decision to use the word “castration” in the title of his book was in the hopes that it would catch attention and help him sell books (caught my attention, Wizner); I always applaud a bold choice and would just expect him to justify such a choice.

Did I know what castration was when I was 17? Oh hell yeah. Did I write a musical about it? In retrospect I wish I had. Would I have devoured the Castration Club series? Most likely. I probably would have placed it in my bookshelf alongside my Babysitters Club series and appreciated the irony.