I read a galley of this book, which was missing the cover, figures, bibliography, and index, so I didn't get to experience its fully glory. That may be just as well because even without those pieces, my head damn near exploded.
Adler takes on sexism and other intersectional isms in library cataloging and classification. Yes, in classification, too, which defines where books end up on the shelf. In current research practice, although I agitate for better controlled vocabulary myself, I have admit that physical classification may matter more than catalog description. At least until the predicted ebooks takeover that has yet to materialize, but very well may. People conduct keyword catalog searches (or search engine or online bookstore). Then they go to the stacks for their book and often take a look at the books around their book, doing what librarians call serendipitous browsing. But it's really not serendipity, is it? Shelf placement is controlled by catalog librarians, especially those at the Library of Congress.
The Library of Congress, which is not officially our national library, but de facto is our national library has a mandate to serve Congress, not The People. Somehow that means that they have a particularly bad track record at cataloging and classifying books about sexuality. I could go on and on. I underlined, circled, or made notes on nearly every page of this book. My review could be longer than the book itself. Reading it made me want to go to Ph.D. school and write this very book myself. (Do you think anyone would notice?)
Adler is definitely an academic. Without an index, I can't tell you how much she quotes Foucault, but it's a lot. Still, her writing is accessible to non-scholars, such as myself, even if it took me nine days to read Adler's 220 pages (minus endnotes). It was 100% worth the read.
So, borrow the book from a library, or, and I don't often say this, BUY IT your damn self when it comes out this spring (cloth in March, paperback in April, per Adler ebook never).