No female territory, not even the intimate preserve of the gynecologist's stirrups (""at the least, an embarrassing position""), is too exclusive for a man to chart for his fellows. Douglas Gasner, who favors the thesis that testosterone, the male hormone, tends to produce superior I.Q.s, contributes six of the 13 chapters here--the psychobiological heavies; five women supply the remaining seven. Gasner purveys fact (the average female body has 17 square feet of skin) and fancy: ""If a woman can't always tell when she is sexually excited'--arousal being a measurable state of genital vasocongestion--""that makes it doubly difficult for a man to tell. . . . "" Occasionally, he purveys advice: ""If you need. . . something that will alert you to how close a woman is to orgasm, ask her. But don't make the question too detailed."" And for anyone who hasn't heard yet, he settles the clitoral/vaginal issue, encouraging every man to do his duty accordingly. The men, the audience, will have to accept what Scientists say and Researchers think without attributions. The women's essays are throw-aways (sex at the office, living alone, etc.) except--maybe--Peyton Bailey's improvement over Gasner about pregnancy and Amy Gross' upbeat piece on how it was when a girl had to choose to be either ""somebody's nobody or nobody's somebody."" Featuring cartoony decorations and all kinds of squibs (Nietzsche, Mr. Rogers), this is a coy but humorless enterprise that indexes its own every word--from ""Abdomen, lower"" to ""Zipless fuck."" Authoritative alternate: Our Bodies, Ourselves.