Member Reviews
This is a great book, remarkably honest views of P. Carl's on the subject.
Thanks to the publisher for the ARC.
In the acknowledgements of Becoming a Man, P. Carl notes that by publishing his story, his publishers are not "just publishing a memoir, but affirming the reality of trans lives as a vital part of the American landscape." Carl is right in more ways than one: the book itself is also more than just a memoir, as Carl uses his own personal experience of transition to examine closely the gendered social, cultural and political context of 21st-century America.
Carl calls his story "a layperson's anthropological exploration of living a double life," a theme that resonates as Becoming a Man unfolds. He recalls what it was like to live for more than 50 years as a girl and woman who was dismissed and intimidated on the basis of gender, then reflects on his own ability to dismiss and intimidate as a man. He writes candidly about his relationship with his wife, first as one half of a lesbian couple, then as one half of a couple that seems, from the outside looking in, to be straight. He dissects his role in his family, watching westerns with his father as a child and later, as their aging son, caring for his dying parents. Throughout the pages of Becoming a Man, Carl grapples with his personal "contradictions and questions." His raw candor elevates Becoming a Man to more than "just" a memoir, to use Carl's own words: it is a story that is both deeply personal and yet reveals universal truths--and asks big, difficult questions--about how all people experience gender.
By writing this book about transitioning from a woman to a man, P. Carl taught me so much. He shares his feeling and talks about how he was his mother’s little girl and how he always would be, even though as a lesbian he married a woman. He talks about what it was like for his wife in the transition, but most importantly he talks about what he has learned about the privilege of white men, and how hard it is to be a good man. Unfortunately, the people who most need to read this book, those who condemn P. Carl’s lifestyle, won’t. They won’t make it through the first part of the book where Carl talks gives examples of white man privilege in the Kavanaugh’s Supreme Court hearings.
“Stories help us disrupt and think differently as a culture,” says P. Carl, the playwright, dramaturg, and author of the recent memoir, “Becoming a Man: The Story of a Transition.” With this book, Carl adds his narrative to the conversations surrounding trans identity and white masculinity.
On one hand, there are precious few stories of trans men in popular culture. But on the other hand, Carl will be the first to point out that even as someone who “lived the life of a woman at the mercy of patriarchy and misogyny,” he is still susceptible to engaging with toxic masculinity.
At Emerson, where he’s a distinguished artist in residence, he teaches a course called “Burning Down the House: Disruptive Narratives in Theater and Life,” in which students look at the theoretical, historical and political natures of storytelling. More diverse stories are now being told on the stage, but the leadership behind the curtains is still largely white, male and affluent.
“The historical problem of storytelling in theater is it being monosyllabic,” says Carl. Because popular theater has been historically written, acted, directed and produced by white creators, theater is inherently oriented to whiteness. Even as theatrical institutions mobilize to diversify and be more inclusive, this still assumes whiteness at its origin story. That’s something Carl sought to counter when creating HowlRound Theatre Commons, which has been a part of Emerson College since 2012. Theater by and for people with marginalized identities can find space and funding for their stories to be heard.
Carl himself is a white man, an identity he transitioned into at age 50. He adopted a new birthday on March 16, 2017, the day a stranger called him “sir” and he finally felt at home in his own body. “Becoming a Man” chronicles the journey of his transition with all the messy bits that others might not have offered on a platter for public consumption. His writing exhibits the life of a multifaceted (and sometimes contradictory) human, who grew up as a daughter and a sister, but was never a girl or a queer woman. He writes, "Sometimes I have the courage to look back and tell you about what Polly went through and other times I only want to convince you I was always only Carl."
The overarching theme of Carl’s memoir is the concept of “doubling.” “People of color and women and queers and trans folks all know what it means to double,” he writes, “how to perform two different versions of themselves depending on the context.” Carl writes that until the #MeToo era, perhaps the only group who hadn’t experienced this internal divide were white males. Then they were suddenly being asked to been seen as a group, with all the social mores that came with the problematic history of that monolith. “Not all men!” they protested.
As someone who has only recently adjusted to the inherent privileges of being recognized as a white man, Carl admits there is something seductive about not having to double. Men are allowed a certain level of obliviousness and simplicity. Pre-transition, while Carl’s brothers kicked up their feet after Thanksgiving dinner, Carl washed the dishes alongside his mother out of a sense of gendered duty, even though he was just as tired as the other men. Now Carl gets to be a “guy’s guy” who likes beer and bourbon and athleticism, but that instinct of being a “good daughter” hasn’t left him, as his parents’ health sharply declines.
That’s not to say that Carl doesn’t see the fluidity of gender. Living between the binary just wasn’t his experience. He feels grounded as a man in ways he couldn’t have imagined prior. “As I transitioned and began to feel how important a body was to a head, I found the ability to explore places and feel things that weren’t possible until I transitioned,” he says. One passage tenderly describes a visceral new sensation he feels upon seeing his wife, Lynette D'Amico. Other passages invoke the anger he’s always felt, but others now viewed through the lens of his masculinity.
When I ask Carl why someone who has worked in theater for over 20 years chose to write his life story as a memoir, he admits that exploring those emotions would have been impossible to face in a play as the story’s first iteration. In retrospect, he says it’s very hard to dramatize emotions while you’re still living them. “When you tell your story for the first time to yourself, it’s more natural to be journal-keeping and prose-making.”
However, he still gets to explore that drama, because “Becoming a Man” is being adapted into a play by the American Repertory Theater. He jokes that people who are “others” will often present their life stories as one person plays, because theaters are only willing to fund one actor. When Carl told A.R.T. that this story will take at least seven actors, they agreed wholeheartedly. There are many selves presented in “Becoming a Man” and it would be a disservice to boil Carl down to one.
“Burning Down the House” used to be an elective class at Emerson College but with its explosive popularity, it is now a requirement for performing arts students. Carl says, “The most important thing for me as a teacher is to find a way for students to connect to their experiences in an embodied way. The crazy ways culture bears down on us must be fully felt together in the body, we can’t be disentangled.” Understanding the physical self is key to understanding your inner self. He understands this as a trans man, but he wants students of any marginalized background to feel connected to their physical selves. He says, “The more embodied they feel, the more they feel they can handle what comes next.”
Such honest, heartfelt writing. I appreciate the addition of P. Carl's story to the greater, growing collection of trans stories available.
Well written and honest account of one man's journey to finding and living as himself in a culture that would rather turn away people who aren't the typical, average Joe down the street. A deep look into himself, society, culture, and masculinity in a time that needs to hear about this difficult journey to be recognized as who he is.
Thank you to Netgalley and the publishers for providing a copy of this book to read and review. Opinions expressed in the review are my own.
A fantastic memoir of strength and resilience. There was so much information packed into this book and it was one of the most detailed memoirs I have read about a person in transition. Thank you for allowing me to read this book, it was wonderful.
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.
A fantastic autobiography of strength and resilience. The world needs more honest and inspirational books like this! I was rooting so hard for the author as he discussed his journey to find his true identity, and appreciated the dive into societal standards surrounding the intersectionality of gender and race. Bravo!
I appreciate the perspective of not only an individual transitioning, and becoming their true self, but the exploration of what it means to be masculine in society. This memoir is deeper than just one man's journey, it analyzes our society, how we view gender, and what it means to not fit the "norm".