Balsam’s book also includes a delightful trip through history and culture, touching on such disparate topics as 16th-century art depicting the female body, Elizabeth Blackwell’s refusal to engage in “un-lady-like parading” at her own medical school graduation, and 21st-century mannequin marketing (p. 21). It also includes a review of the psychoanalytic literature relevant to the topic of women’s bodies, including many writers who are well-known (Sigmund Freud, Melanie Klein, Helene Deutsch, Hans Loewald, Robert Stoller, Michel Foucault, and Karen Horney), many who are less well-known (Patrick Mahoney, Dianne Elise, Judith Kestenberg, Nancy Kulish, Deanna Holtzman, Edmund Bergler, Denora Pines, Elisabeth Young-Bruehl, Paula Bernstein, Joan Raphael-Leff, Virginia Goldner, Nancy Chodorow, Adrienne Harris, Jessica Benjamin, and Arlene Kramer Richards), and some who are mostly unknown (Margaret Hilerding, Marie Langerand, and Caroline Hall). Throughout, Balsam’s tone is refreshingly unfancy, and even irreverent, as she speaks directly to the reader, saying things like, “God (that show-off male who created the earth!)” (p. 22). Finally, as noted earlier, this book is wonderfully personal. For example, we are treated to glimpses of Rosemary growing up in Ireland in a glorious matriarchy or, more recently, trudging through the snow of New Haven in an old coat, looking a bit disheveled and thinking about her patient. As I read this book, it was impossible not to reminisce in detail about growing up in and surrounded by female bodies and of the many important interactions with other women and girls who shape inner life. My guess is that I am not alone in this kind of dream-like reading/reverie.