“A memoir that is jolting, honest, passionate, and beautifully written” (Claudia Rankine), Becoming a Man explores one man’s gender transition amid a pivotal political moment in America.
Becoming a Man is the striking memoir of P. Carl’s journey to become the man he always knew himself to be. For fifty years, he lived as a girl and a queer woman, building a career, a life, and a loving marriage, yet still waiting to realize himself in full. As Carl embarks on his gender transition, he takes us inside the complex shifts and questions that arise throughout—the alternating moments of arrival and estrangement. He writes intimately about how transitioning reconfigures both his own inner experience and his closest bonds—his twenty-year relationship with his wife, Lynette; his already tumultuous relationships with his parents; and seemingly solid friendships that are subtly altered, often painfully and wordlessly.
Carl blends the remarkable story of his own personal journey with incisive cultural commentary, writing brilliantly about gender, power, and inequality in America. His transition occurs amid the rise of the Trump administration and the #MeToo movement—a transition point in America’s own story, when transphobia and toxic masculinity are under fire even as they thrive in the highest halls of power. Carl’s quest to become himself and to reckon with his masculinity mirrors, in many ways, the challenge before the country as a whole, to imagine a society where every member can have a vibrant, livable life. Here, through this brave and deeply personal work, Carl brings an unparalleled new voice to this conversation.
When Carl was four years old, his life split. He knew himself to be a boy, but everyone else perceived him as a girl, and, eventually, as a butch lesbian. When he turned 50, he decided to become the man he knows he is.
And it’s heartbreaking. He’s overjoyed to finally be seen as his true self. But his friends and his wife are not so thrilled. Having spent years fighting the system together as lesbian feminists, they feel betrayed and resentful. But Carl perseveres, writing out the crazy swinging roller coaster of emotions going on within him and around him.
This is a very short book, but it holds as much emotion and experience as can possibly be put into it. It made me happy for Carl, and sad that his happiness was the source of so much struggle for people he loves (one chapter is a beautiful love letter to his wife; so far as I can tell, they are still married). It also made me very angry, because Carl is still a feminist, and he’s here to tell everyone that white male privilege isn’t all it’s cracked up to be -- it’s SO MUCH MORE than anyone realizes, because either (a) you’re perceived as a white male and you’re so used to receiving privilege that the breadth and depth of it is invisible to you, or (b) you’re not white, not male, or both, and a lot of white male privilege is kept out of sight of people who are excluded from it.
This book was deeply moving. I recommend it, and I’m slightly envious that my niece’s girlfriend got to take a class from Carl at Emerson College. He seems like a very interesting and energetic person, and I loved his sense of humor through this book even as he described the most difficult situations.
I knew about a 1/3 of the way into this book, that I was going to have a tough time reviewing it. Not because it is awful, because it is far from that. This is one of the best, and most comprehensive books I have read about a person in transition. And not even because it goes into the medical parts of it [though that is discussed some], but because it goes to the heart and soul of what it is like to be one gender [and know for years that it is the wrong one] and then one day wake up, decide that you cannot live that lie anymore and move forward into your new life - with all the pain and disappointment and anger and ALL the emotions that go with it. This broke that down in such a way that I was weeping through a lot of it. I had made he assumption [incorrectly] when I requested this that this book would be similar to Janet Mock's book and I was so very wrong. And that is what I get for assuming. I assure you that I will not be making that mistake again.
I am not gay, queer, nor have I ever wanted to identify as anything but female, so there are parts of this book that are really tough for me to both read and understand [I spent a good chunk of the book hashing ideas and what was going on out with my mom. She was my sounding board and I tried to figure out just what Carl was saying]. If you have never lived in that space, you cannot even begin to understand what someone goes through - and as I read through this book, I realized, that even if you ARE living through that, your experience will never be the same as another person who is making a similar journey. But as I read [and struggled to comprehend], I learned a lot - both about the author, the process, and also about myself and my capacity to dive in and keep going, even when I have NO CLUE about what I am reading [that evened out as the book went on because Carl explains himself at times and that really helped]. And I found myself rooting for Carl and his transition. I found myself rooting for his and Lynette's marriage. I wanted him to heal from a childhood that was marked with abuse and neglect and anger. And I found I wanted to be friends with him - he is exactly the kind of guy friend I have always gravitated to [and I am blessed with several really amazing male friends]. And I found that I loved his story - even with the whole mess that a lot of it is. He is brutally honest in this, even about how he struggles with white masculinity and the negative connotations of that, and that is extremely refreshing.
This is a great book to read if you want a first hand account on what it is like to go from one gender to another and all the love and support, and anger, and isolation etc that goes along with it - I am a different person because of this book and I hope that it has made me a better and more empathetic person as well.
Thank you to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for providing this ARC in exchange for an honest review.
Ooof I have a lot of mixed feelings about this book. In some ways it’s a raw and painfully truthful account of someone finally feeling their body as theirs and how they got to that point. But I can’t ignore throughout the book that Carl’s internal misogyny isn’t challenged, rather it becomes external misogyny and he ends up celebrating that. He’s says he hopes white toxic masculinity is nearing its end whilst simultaneously sharing anecdotes where he happily contributed to white toxic masculinity so he could feel “like a man”. I just wish him the best and hope his growth continues to a point where he addresses this.
This book utterly floored me. Carl transitioned at 51, after a lifetime of knowing himself as a man but not living as one. The agility, humility, and self-analysis in this book is just brilliant. It's a book about wresting with masculinity, in all its ugly and benign forms. Carl interrogates how it felt to live as a woman, and all the complexities of how that life affected his experience of manhood. There is so much nuance and uncertainty and contradiction here—he’s willing to tell a lot of messy truths, and the result is a book that’s one specific story of one particular trans life, but also a book that gets at all the crooks and crannies of identity. This book also has some of the clearest and most breathtaking writing about bodies—and the ways that truth, knowledge, identity, trauma, history and experience live in bodies—that I’ve ever read.
A section of this memoir recounts how his transition affected his marriage, and those parts were painful to read. What amazed me was how many angles he was able to illuminate, even about something so intimate. He gets right to the heart of transphobia in queer communities, especially lesbian ones. But he also writes about the very real ways maleness and masculinity can harm women, and the complexity of how that plays out in queer relationships. It left me with a whole lot to chew on.
There are many gorgeous and smart lines throughout the whole thing, but here's one that will stay with me a long time: “We are still here together because we are holding on to the knowing that multiple truths, and multiple bodies, are possible.” In may ways, this book is a celebration of multiple truths, of the multiplicity of lives lived in one body, the multiplicity of bodies that one life can hold, of all the possibilities that exist in the complexity of human experience.
Also, brilliant, moving audio, narrated by the author. It is not a long listen (just over five hours) and worth every minute.
I quite honestly don't know how to process this book. I've read a bunch of similar memoirs, but this one was -- and I know this sounds ridiculous -- just too self-absorbed. Of course, a memoir is self-absorbed, that's what a memoir is, but this one...part of it is that it's subtitled "The Story of a Transition", and it really isn't. I'd like to hear the story. First this, then that. And the story is there -- somewhere - but I had to wade through pages and chapters of his philosophical and self-absorbed musings. He made everything about himself, including his wife's cancer. This was while he was boasting about how that's what makes a man a man -- that self-absorption.
I don't know. I feel like I'm going around in circles. But this book bugged me.
"Please know that many things are true about my history that can never add up" (13).
"I will always feel the rage of being a woman who was told on too many occasions that I was aggressive and ambitious and angry. I feel those feelings as her, even though she's me and not me. An inner self can learn to walk parallel with a constructed self and know and not know it simultaneously" (13).
"What parts of bodies are allowed to change without causing disruption? What are the qualities of sex and gender that make friendships? How do facial hair and broader shoulders disrupt human connection and sexual desire? How is a daughter different from a son? (30).
"Worse, does becoming a man require unknowing at a visceral level what men do to women? (31).
"In a culture overrun with diagnoses and medications to treat them, there are a lot of us practice at not knowing. The sane among us get locked up and the white male politicians are allowed to roam free and spread their insanity like germ warfare" (133).
"As a woman, I would rather have been bipolar, something I could take medication for, than been treated like a woman--something I could not control" (151).
"I must contend with the lists of truths my body feels" (189).
"I had always thought that my brain was the quickest and most efficient part of me, but I have learned that it's my body that knows everything first" (192).
"Trans is strange that way, one person running toward something another person can't escape fast enough" (215).
"Pronouns that suit aren't a privilege everyone is born with" (216).
There is ... A lot to say about this book. Much of it resonated with me and reflected thoughts I've been thinking for the past year, not only regarding gender, but also grief, mortality, nostalgia, identity in a more general sense. Those parts were hard to read and yet engrossing. Still, some of P. Carl's ideas about transness seem founded in essentialist conceptions of gender that clashed with other things he said. Bodies "know", "intuit", "want", all the time in this book in a very esoteric way, making him a man who just ignored what his body was telling him about wanting to play with little toy soldiers from birth, but also a woman. I disagree with the predetermination in that sentiment and I think the author himself knew that things just don't quite work out that way. I did not like the way he talked about his wife, I feel like they were still too in the middle of their collective transition to publicize it in this format. He excuses his own misogynistic bullshit with knowing that it's technically wrong, but wanting to life the life of a cis guy that he missed out on, he even reflects on it a ton, but it seems that he isn't willing to let go of it now that he is free to engage in locker room talk, complaining about "the wife", and whatever else. I guess it's good that he left those parts in the book and isn't trying to pretend that they aren't there, but also, is it?
"Becoming a Man" in 2020 America is anything but straight-forward. What does transitioning mean for a man, previously in a lesbian relationship of 20 years, who finally feels good in his body but also recognizes the complications that this embrace of masculinity entails?
In "Becoming a Man: The Story of a Transition," P. Carl outlines his transition and reflects on his experiences of gender dysphoria growing up, his fraught relationship with his parents, and what this all means for his relationship to masculinity. Unafraid to go deep and discuss conflict, Carl addresses the privileges that come with white masculinity, and the real dangers faced by women in the U.S. - even going into detail about his own experience of sexual assault prior to his transition. A book that is still working itself out, much in the same way Carl is still working out his own relationship to masculinity, at times the book feels unbound, unsettled, and lacking material ground; its best parts come when he narrates through his stories, but the book unfortunately falters when his own self-reflections become a bit too longwinded.
Another good book on the tension faced by trans men, "Becoming a Man" is worth the read.
I plan to come back and give a thorough review at some point, but I can't just leave 5 stars and walk away like I do with other books.
This book is not long, but it took me over three weeks to read. That's not normal for me. I usually read a book in less than a week. It was hard to read, though. Not because it was bad! It was the opposite! It was so good! But it was so painfully true and, honestly, painfully relatable. I need to process this book and come back to review. If you read this before I'm able to do that, just take my review as positive and read the book.
I rarely read nonfiction. This book was FANTASTIC. Honest and raw, amazing. I'm so thankful for this author, that he's still alive, and that he shared this book with us. A must read for anyone thinking/wanting to know more about gender, sexuality, what it means to be a woman, to be a man.
This book shouldn't have been a memoir. In my opinion P. Carl is the best transmasculine author I have ever read and this book emerged at a time his perspective was most needed. Carl begs the question what does it mean to be a white trans man in a time when white men are destroying the country. P. Carl's applications of queer theory to his own life and deconstruction of how we experience and perform masculinity is in my opinion ground-breaking. But this book shouldn't have been a memoir. The weakest parts of the book are Carl's personal tangents that he insists on presenting in chronological order. I hope that one day trans authors will get to a place when discussing the how, when, where, and why of their transition becomes a played out narrative and they instead focus on the interesting insights that they have gained in transition. P. Carl was able to articulate some parts of the trans male experience that I had been unable to put into words but it all got muddled in his pages on pages of musings about the state of his horrible marriage. This book would have been 10x stronger if he had cut all the rambling chapters that read like personal journal entries not intended for general audiences and focused on presenting a concise work on the trans relationship to masculinity and how trans men are both inhabiting and reshaping what a man is.
As a continuation of the 2019 goal, in 2020 I am trying to read more trans authors, especially trans masculine nonfiction. P. Carl has an engaging story that I at times related to, and most of the time did not (which is not a bad thing, obviously) . I enjoyed the writing, I thought it was very strong, and contained the multitudes of the human experience. I particularly liked the letter to his wife and the chapter about the role of daughters. My only complaint was that it was compared to Maggie Nelson who is one of my favorite authors, and although he analyzes her work at one point, I did not feel like he reached Maggie Nelson's level. He did incorporate feminist theory to his work at times, but it read much more like a straight (hehe) memoir then Maggie Nelson ever does. He mostly references it in passing rather than engages with it. Overall, a good memoir.
P. Carl's becoming a man is "a book about changing a name, a life, and a gender - about crossing a seemingly indistinguishable line and all the implications of that crossing" . . Becoming A Man - The Story Of Transition is powerful. P. Carl's memoir is truly eye opening on so many levels and I learned so much. Things I thought I knew, things I hadn't thought of. I have been educated by the words on these pages. I know I've said it before but I'll say it again. I am forever amazed by the ability to let us (many complete strangers) into your life, to share your story and your truth. Thank you for opening yourself up to us. . . A huge thank you to Simon & Schuster Canada for my advance copy.
Interesting story of Carl, a transman, who transitions in his 50s. Appreciated the honesty and unvarnished look at the effect his transition had on his wife, mental state and family. It seemed to me though that he seemed to have a 1960s or a 10 year old boys idea of what a man or a "man's man' as he sometimes describes himself should be: liking sports, denigrating women, drinking beer. The book is quite steeped in gender theory, but rather than perceiving gender as performative, he tends to reify it. Admittedly, he points his own contradictions and his ambivalence towards toxic masculinity. Although at other times, he jumps on his high horse and begins to lecture all genders on how to be better versions of themselves based on his fixed idea of how they should behave.
I really enjoyed this memoir, it's very well written and almost painfully honest. It was very fascinating to find how this man picked up toxic masculinity from a young age and kind of revels in it, even though he knows it's not the healthiest or best way to think. It's just that it means something totally different to him as a trans man. What I didn't understand was how fine he was with all the women in his life basically deciding he was now the enemy. Not only is that generally not how women should think about men, I'm shocked to think that people out there can almost randomly decide that one of their best friend suddenly what they "hate" and treat him like that. I also don't understand why he thinks it's okay for the people in his life to feel betrayed by his transitioning, even though he says more than once (and I believe him) that the transition saved his life and made it worth living.
I felt this book was provocative and brave and remarkable. Carl transitions later in life and lays out his journey, including the stress it puts on his marriage. Eloquently written. I found myself re-reading passages and then thinking on them about my own experience with gender and sexuality. Worth reading.
I was overwhelmed by all the things that go into P. Carl’s life & transition. Thanks to him for sharing these parts of himself, and educating me. I never thought about most of these things due to my hetero/cis privilege. I’m left wanting to hug him.
A fascinating memoir by a 50+-year old trans man who has a PhD in gender and cultural studies. The book is an excellent example of theory and lived experience coming together.
Carl's book navigates white masculinity in a way unlike any trans memoir I have ever read. He takes ownership of his humanity, his flaws, and his participation in less than savory systems. His story of transition, while grounded in ideas of medical and physical transitioning, so transparently communicates the nuanced experience of coming into masculinity during an age of rising social conservatism. A must read for white Trans-Masc people.
Excellent book - eye opening descriptions of living with body dysmorphia so extreme that no feelings are transmitted through the ‘wrong’ body, and the intense joy and volume of feeling when the body finally matched the self image, and began transmitting physical and emotional feelings. The best description yet to help a cis woman (she/her) like myself understand those feelings, and so beautifully describing the feelings I had to pull over, stop driving and weep for the joy of it.
In Becoming a Man, Carl talks about his gender transition in his early 50s in a set of personal essays that traverse his childhood and complicated relationships with his parents, his formative years where he never felt comfortable in his body or with how society treats women, and how his personal life, his relationships, and how he's treated in society have shifted in the wake of his transition. I'm glad he's found happiness in his transition, though the explorations about how generally negatively his wife felt about his transition were pretty painful. Carl's perspective in the book comes across self-focused (it is a memoir after all, but still), and it was surprising that despite his academic work in queer theory and his personal transition experience, he doesn't seem to be able to to understand or relate to people who choose to identify as nonbinary, genderqueer, etc.
A concise memoir about one man’s experience of transitioning in middle age. After having lived as a white butch lesbian and radical feminist for 50 years pre-transition, he grapples with reconciling his feminist and anti-racist values with his perceived new identity and in his relationships with his wife and with other “dudes.”
His focus on American politics and lawmakers as well as the #MeToo movement lost me a bit and some parts were too corny for me. Also, it didn’t seem like he could articulate a non-toxic masculinity (who could tho…) but did celebrate masculinity expressed in superficial ways like gym banter and beer tasting. I’d be curious for a deeper examination of the types of positive masculinity worth celebrating, or at least a better shot.
Overall I appreciated his earnestness and learned+felt a lot while reading this.
This book is beautifully written and raw. As a fellow trans man, I appreciated the desperation of choosing to survive and to strive for authenticity. As a fellow trans man, I also cringed at the author’s sheepish depictions of his ongoing journey to embrace masculinity while eschewing toxicity (and often failure to adequately unwind the two). These honest stories highlighted why the book is not called his quest “becoming a GOOD man”, but rather just “becoming a man”. That leaves the adjective for the rest of us to seek on our own journeys, as I don’t seek a manhood like Carl’s—and that didn’t prevent me from deeply appreciating his book.
The only reason I pull back from fully admiring this book id because there's a lot to the man he became that I'm not enthralled by, and there are elements of essentialism that he seems to have taken in and wants to hold on to. Even as he also questions this, admits his non-understanding of non-binary gender...
But there is a lot he has to say about self and identity that really resonates, good questions worth coming back to. And his analysis of society and family is also valuable.
I wouldn't think as a Black woman that I would be able to relate to and learn from a trans man, but I stand corrected. I read this book to educate myself more on the trans world in an attempt to become more tolerant and understanding. A lot of this book was eye opening. I never thought of the reconciliation one must do inside their heads to connect the person that they were with the person that they are. In addition the work to balance the person that they are seen as must be so taxing. I'm so glad I read this. It's given me quite a bit to think about.
A truly deep look into someone’s transition. I wish all the best to Carl and those he chose to include in his book. I really appreciated the blend of personal experiences with academic knowledge and critiques of gender/sexuality/society. I did get lost at times, it’s clear Carl is an intellectual and the writing reflects that. Overall a great read.