LOVE AND LIES

An admitted liar muses about deception.

Philosopher, essayist and novelist Martin (Philosophy/Univ. of Missouri, Kansas City; How to Sell, 2009, etc.) expounds on love, sex and lying in this digressive, interesting, but sometimes exasperatingly narcissistic book. At 46, married three times, divorced twice, a recovering alcoholic and, the author confesses, a lifelong liar, he wrote this book “to figure out how I’ve loved and how to do it better. More brutally put—and more honestly?—I am trying to behold my body and my heart without disgust.” That question mark is unsettling: What, readers may well wonder, is true? Martin recounts his first love, of his sister, a disturbed girl several years older than he; his first erotic experience when he was a child and brushed against his mother’s buttocks; his first sexual experience, in high school, in all its kinky details; and his halfhearted suicide attempt. He insists that lies pervade all relationships and that liars are more intelligent than nonliars, supporting his assertions with “studies” as likely to be found in newspaper reports as in academic journals. He maintains, for example, that “the capacity to lie convincingly is a reliable predictor of social and financial success among adults.” “By the time we are two or three,” he says, “we are telling people what they want to hear—or what we think they want to hear. The best liars must also be mind readers.” Among the wide range of writers and thinkers Martin draws upon are Socrates and Plato, James Joyce and Raymond Carver, Nietzsche, Kant, Stendhal, Freud, of course, and the Freudian psychiatrist Adam Phillips, Montaigne, Machiavelli and even the charming liar Pinocchio.

An intelligent, if at times self-aggrandizing, celebration of lying and love.