Self-Made Man: One Woman's Year Disguised as a Man [Paperback]

What I enjoyed most about Self-Made Man was Vincent's insistance on putting herself in difficult situations. Being a woman passing yourself off as a man in bowling leagues, strip clubs, in a monestary, at a male-only retreat, as a salesman, and even dating, would be nerve-wracking to say the least. Had she not taken such risks, the book would have suffered quite a bit. As it is, it ranks right up there with Black Like Me in terms of its journalistic and analytical worth.

One might argue that Vincent concentrated too much on the extremes of male behavior and not enough on the work-a-day, average joe; however, such an argument would fail to grasp her reasons for delving so far into the margins of masculinity. Vincent's insistance on putting herself at the edge of the most personal, secretive, cloistered, and sometimes seedy male environments created the conflict and drama necessary to reveal men at their finest and weakest. The reactions of the men around her to the situations they found themselves in and her own observations about both those men and herself pinpoint and amplify the attitudes of those involved, both implied and expressed, in a way that observing the hum-drum of the "regular guy" would not.

I was often struck by how well Vincent's thoughts on the subject of men mirrored my own as a man. I was gratified that she was able to cull a sense of sympathy for the plight of men in the search for their masculinity.

One thing that struck me about Self-Made Man was Vincent's insistance on creating fairly intimate relationships with the people she was writing about. Every chapter contains reflections on her guilt at deceiving those subjects she had befriended along the way as well as an urge to reveal her gender to them, which she did in nearly every instance. To me, this pattern revealed more about the author than it did about the men and women she met. I got the feeling that Vincent was "coming out" to her subjects--as though she were playing out a bit of psycho-drama lingering from her days as a closeted lesbian.

In her chapter on dating in particular, I found her rationale for coming out to the women she had been "dating" as a bit self-serving, and really made me wonder at the state of mind the author was in to slingshot a gender study exercise into a chance at seducing an unsuspecting gal or two. In a way though, I could hardly blame Vincent. She was fulfilling two deep-seeded desires in one fell swoop: the need to confess and the need to get laid. A wonderful two-for-one, don't you think? Although, this chapter started to make me wonder at Norah's motives.

Often I thought Vincent was seeking intimacy and sympathy from her subjects and often it seemed inappropriate. I got the sense of a person in great need of acceptance and likewise that she was either consciously or unconsciously creating situations in which she would require forgiveness. To be sure, I can understand Vincent's guilt at deceiving the decent and kind folks she related to as Ned, but a simple apology and explanation in an afterword of the book would likely have sufficed. Yet, Vincent gravitated toward a series of dramatic confrontations with her subjects in what seemed to me to be bouts of self-flagellation. It felt like she was doing penance superficialy for her lying, and that more deeply than that, she was doing penance for her lesbianism. Still deeper, under the heaps of guilt Vincent piled on herself, was the search for approval.

These layers of psychological need made Vincent's views fascinating, but not always believable. Her hospitalization for a nervous episode at the end of the book speaks volumes about her mental state, but it does so in a way that undercuts her rationale for being hospitalized. In fact, it was in writing about herself that Vincent showed the greatest degree of obtuseness and obfuscation. It's unfortunate and quite understandable, but ultimately diminishes her credibility.

Still, when she concentrates on masculinity and men, Vincent is incisive and thoughtful to a great degree. I found much of the book illuminating, and I think that women in particular would gain a better perspective on men through this book.

I got this book after reading a favorable review from one of the mainline orthodox Christian magazines.

I have one word after reading it: "Wow!"

As a late-blooming man (I am coming to grips with masculinity at 56 years old), I found this book one of the best at exploring some of the aspects of what being a man is.

Although the language and some of the stories (to this Christian's viewpoint) were at first deeply offensive, I found that when I worked past that, there were really insightful and touching observations. Who would have thought that it would take an undercover dyke (her term for herself, not mine) to observe men in just a select few 'native environments' to shatter not only her own, but my preconceived ideas and prejudices as well. Between the lines, there is much material to ponder about the strengths, weaknesses, and illusory 'advantages' that accompany being a man in this society.

She also hints at the mystery of gender - Are gender roles imprinted by upbringing and society (however badly that is done), or are there biologically encoded norms that are being daily played out in the love-hate dance between men and women? She does not answer that question, but that was not her purpose.

I am recommending this book to a select few of my Evangelical Christian friends who are mature enough to handle the raw, blunt (and often vulgar) sexual language with which she writes.

Norah Vincent's foray into masculinity suprisingly shed light on the ways that she feels that men are suffocated by the structure of gendered expectations. The book is written for an educated lay audience and would also be well used in the classroom.

There are places in the book where she falls into mainstream cultures misunderstandings about women's studies or feminism that I found troubling. However, her otherwise honest reflections on masculinity were enlightening and I've found that I've been thinking more about this book in the two weeks since I've finished it.

The chapter that I continue to reflect on is the one where she describes dating as "Ned." It was illuminating to get the sense that dating and rejection is hard for men. I never would have thought about it in the way that she described it. The quiet desperation that some of the men exhibit in the section about strip clubs was also sad. Sad that some men feel utterly compelled to have no real connection to women, as women, but rather to look to women as objects or a sexual fetish of some sort.

Overall, I found that the book was well-written. And, if anything I was really saddened to see that once again we expect men to be emotionless. It must be terribly lonely to not feel that it's acceptable to express your emotions. I think I have more empathy for the way that gender suffocates men. I am well aware of the punitive consequences of gender and gender roles on women, but I think that Vincent provocatively addresses heterosexual men in her snapshot as Ned.

Oh, one last comment. I do think that her experiences as Ned and "coming out" as Ned to some of the folks (men) she met were influenced by her Lesbianism, as were the dating relationships that she had with some of the women. I do think that a straight woman traveling/transforming as a man would have had a different experience, since she would not have been a potential object of affection for the any of the people she came out to, for instance.

That said, I think her lived experience also influenced her understanding of gender. I don't think that these are weaknesses of the book, but something I felt compelled to note.

› Go to Amazon.com to see all 34 reviews  3.9 out of 5 stars