Cringe, I know. Before I start the review in earnest, let me say some things in my defence. Firstly, the sophisticated Greene reader appreciates that his books should not be treated as how-to guides, more so, they are courses in “applied history”, exploring the great characters of history via dramatised anecdotes and extracting lessons for the modern reader. Secondly, even if you use the books as guides, they can be used defensively rather than offensively – for example, students of The 48 Laws of Power will presumably be better at spotting and avoiding Machiavellian characters around them. Lastly, on the matter of seduction itself, romantic seduction is merely one facet – perhaps the more impactful element is political mass seduction, which this book explores through characters like JFK, Napoleon, and Charles de Gaulle:

In the nineteenth century another great change occurred: politicians like Napoleon consciously saw themselves as seducers, on a grand scale. These men depended on the art of seductive oratory, but they also mastered what had once been feminine strategies: staging vast spectacles, using theatrical devices, creating a charged physical presence. All this, they learned, was the essence of charisma—and remains so today.

Having excused my choice of book, onto my review of The Art of Seduction. I think it’s mediocre, and certainly inferior to The 48 Laws of Power. The case studies are repetitive, drawing from the lives of a narrow cohort of seducers, Lord Byron, D’Annunzio, and Casanova, whereas The 48 Laws has a rich arsenal of historical anecdotes with exciting breadth. Part Two, “The Seductive Process”, which lays out a step-by-step playbook for seduction, is rather bland and in any case far too long.

That said, Part One of the book is compelling – Greene creates a schema to classify types of seducers and types of “victims” of seduction. Rakes exude uncontrollable desire and passion – this characteristic helped Gabriele D’Annunzio seduce not only women, but politically seduce enough citizens and soldiers to stage a secession from Italy. Dandies cruise through life without respect for societal norms, and thus stir up attraction in people who feel constrained by society – take the story of Salomé, the woman who allegedly broke Nietzche’s heart. Coquettes seem unavailable and independent, embodying Proust’s remark “An absence, the declining of an invitation to dinner, an unintentional, unconscious harshness are of more service than all the cosmetics and fine clothes in the world”.

Unlike The 48 Laws, many of the excerpts in The Art of Seduction are fictional, with numerous references to The Tale of Genji, Kierkegaard’s Seducer’s Diary, and Ovid’s Metamorphoses (which at times can be surprisingly raunchy!). Initially, I was disappointed by this, hoping for more of the historical anecdotes that made me enjoy The 48 Laws. But on reflection, seduction is naturally a more private affair than the exertion of power, and more concerned with subjective perception of reality, so it makes sense that it manifests more clearly in literature, wherein authors can deeply explore the psychological states of their characters.

All told, one can gain self-knowledge from this book (though not with the same density and incisiveness as The 48 Laws), so it is probably worth reading. But treat it as a history of seducers and/or a literary survey of seduction, rather than a normative guide on how you should behave.