Men I Hate: A Memoir in Essays: 21st Century Essays
Autor Lynette D'Amicoen Limba Engleză Paperback – 17 feb 2026
Can a lesbian who loves a trans man still call herself a lesbian? Against the backdrop of a traditional Sicilian American upbringing, Lynette D’Amico identified as a lesbian despite the expectation that her future hinged on the man she married. As a teenager, she fled her St. Louis home in the dark of night to escape her fate. No boys allowed, until one day D’Amico’s life was completely upended when her lover and spouse of twenty years—P. Carl, the acclaimed author of Becoming a Man: The Story of a Transition—told her he was a man.
Seemingly overnight, D’Amico no longer recognized her spouse in photos of past vacations or of the couple celebrating their legal gay marriage. In Men I Hate, she asks: What happens when the people we are closest to change? As D’Amico tries to engage more deeply with the man she is married to, she looks at all the men—historical figures, politicians, men in her family—in search of clear dividing lines between good men and bad, between the men she loves and the men she hates. These lines dissolve as she writes her way toward an understanding of the words marriage,husband, and home—and how we reconcile who we are with who we become.
Seemingly overnight, D’Amico no longer recognized her spouse in photos of past vacations or of the couple celebrating their legal gay marriage. In Men I Hate, she asks: What happens when the people we are closest to change? As D’Amico tries to engage more deeply with the man she is married to, she looks at all the men—historical figures, politicians, men in her family—in search of clear dividing lines between good men and bad, between the men she loves and the men she hates. These lines dissolve as she writes her way toward an understanding of the words marriage,husband, and home—and how we reconcile who we are with who we become.
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Specificații
ISBN-13: 9780814259696
ISBN-10: 0814259693
Pagini: 168
Dimensiuni: 140 x 216 x 18 mm
Greutate: 0.17 kg
Editura: Ohio State University Press
Colecția Mad Creek Books
Seria 21st Century Essays
ISBN-10: 0814259693
Pagini: 168
Dimensiuni: 140 x 216 x 18 mm
Greutate: 0.17 kg
Editura: Ohio State University Press
Colecția Mad Creek Books
Seria 21st Century Essays
Recenzii
“Men I Hate performs the surgical accomplishment of dissecting a life while enacting a delicate transition from rage and fear into empathy and understanding. D’Amico gifts readers life-sustaining insights by immersing them inside the exhilarations, frustrations, and exhaustions of being a daughter, a lesbian, a wife, a writer, a patient, a citizen, and a human. Without shying away from the complicated details of a life that demands shifts in how she defines and understands herself, she skillfully guides us through many challenges we all face. One can only have gratitude for the perspective and hope she provides as she masterfully unlearns the past in order to meet the present.” —Claudia Rankine
“With a disarming blend of candor and style, Lynette D’Amico traces the tectonic shifts of a long-term relationship with exhilarating clarity. Men I Hate confronts the hardest questions—what happens when everything you thought you knew changes?—and does so without flinching. An impelled, acoustically alive, unforgettable book.” —Paul Lisicky, author of Song So Wild and Blue: A Life with the Music of Joni Mitchell
“Men I Hate is a book about a relationship that’s really about a relationship to self—from escaping the myth of the American dream to negotiating the tyranny of gender rules and roles to facing the complications of family, romance, aging, illness, and the search for home. Here Lynette D’Amico inhabits all her insecurities—her rage, heartbreak, and longing— with rare precision so that facing grief might offer the possibility for comfort.” —Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore, author of Terry Dactyl
“Lynette D’Amico gives free play to the stories within the stories, the countervailing stories, the stories that split the truth right down the middle of the stories we tell ourselves and those that we live by. Tough, insightful, purely conceived, and deeply contextualized, Men I Hate passionately investigates a history of desire retold, transformed, and possibly undone when one member of a lesbian couple transitions. D’Amico’s deft, fresh grasp of the essay delivers us to a form that can withstand the shattering, shelter the thrown, and accommodate the contradictions, all the while moving across uncharted terrain. Men I Hate is a knockout.” —Mary Cappello, coauthor of Buffalo Trace: A Threefold Vibration
Notă biografică
Lynette D’Amico is an essayist and fiction writer. She is the author of the novella Road Trip and a recipient of a fellowship from the Vermont Studio Center. She holds an MFA from the Program for Writers at Warren Wilson College.
Extras
My husband and I are having such a terrible time trying to talk to each other that we resort to text messages. We talk through the dogs. Which doesn’t seem to help our communication. We text fight and then argue in person, both of us yelling, walking through doorways, in and out of rooms, the dogs head-tilting at us, startled and confused. “Sonny is a man’s dog,” he says, referring to our Lab rescue. “Because he pees in the bathtub and eats garbage?” I respond. The gendered labeling of everything stuns me into speechlessness. We’re all confused. “If you don’t want to be with a man, I understand, I do, but I can’t be with someone who doesn’t love my new body and new masculinity.” I JUST MET YOU! I text yell. THIS IS WHO I’VE ALWAYS BEEN! he text yells back.
He tells me the story of the car accident in Orlando again. He was twenty-four. He says he risked the lives of others by driving into traffic to try and destroy himself. “You tried to kill yourself?” This is not a version of the story that I’ve heard before. “You can’t change the story!” I say, bereft. “You can’t change the story! This is my story too.”
“Maybe you don’t tell me some of this,” I say. “Maybe you will want to move past us and leave me behind with the weight of all our shared history and memories.” What do men at midlife do? They leave, they move on, they start over. With another woman. With a younger woman who has no queer identity, no queer history of unhooking another woman’s bra, of making out with women in bars and bedrooms.
I tell people I am past the accumulation and collection stage of life, although I still love to visit antique and secondhand shops. One of my favorite destinations is the Goshen antique mall in Goshen, Indiana, where we stop when we’re visiting my husband’s parents. There is a stall devoted to typewriters, another with old metal signage, all the old china inherited and then cast off, antique tools and toys. Once we bought a nearly complete set of Fire King peach lustre dishes and a marigold carnival glass pitcher and four tumblers. All winter I set the table in orange to remember the sun, to remember orange was once Carl’s favorite color. I don’t know what his favorite color is now. Maybe camouflage, maybe steely gray, maybe concrete.
In Goshen my husband bought a trio of painted lead figures we called the Assassins: men in uniform and a woman in a skirt with a briefcase pointing a pistol. She could be me.
What is my story now? My lover whose name was P— left me. I keep staring at an image of my husband that was taken in a friend’s apartment in the summer of 2018: He is slouched in an armless chair, hands in his jeans pockets, his head back, smiling confidently, assuredly. He has a wispy mustache, a hard part shaved into his hair. The photo is a little out of focus as though his image is still emerging. Behind his head is a shadow on the wall. The shadow is small and tentative, hovering over his shoulder. There I am.
He tells me the story of the car accident in Orlando again. He was twenty-four. He says he risked the lives of others by driving into traffic to try and destroy himself. “You tried to kill yourself?” This is not a version of the story that I’ve heard before. “You can’t change the story!” I say, bereft. “You can’t change the story! This is my story too.”
“Maybe you don’t tell me some of this,” I say. “Maybe you will want to move past us and leave me behind with the weight of all our shared history and memories.” What do men at midlife do? They leave, they move on, they start over. With another woman. With a younger woman who has no queer identity, no queer history of unhooking another woman’s bra, of making out with women in bars and bedrooms.
I tell people I am past the accumulation and collection stage of life, although I still love to visit antique and secondhand shops. One of my favorite destinations is the Goshen antique mall in Goshen, Indiana, where we stop when we’re visiting my husband’s parents. There is a stall devoted to typewriters, another with old metal signage, all the old china inherited and then cast off, antique tools and toys. Once we bought a nearly complete set of Fire King peach lustre dishes and a marigold carnival glass pitcher and four tumblers. All winter I set the table in orange to remember the sun, to remember orange was once Carl’s favorite color. I don’t know what his favorite color is now. Maybe camouflage, maybe steely gray, maybe concrete.
In Goshen my husband bought a trio of painted lead figures we called the Assassins: men in uniform and a woman in a skirt with a briefcase pointing a pistol. She could be me.
What is my story now? My lover whose name was P— left me. I keep staring at an image of my husband that was taken in a friend’s apartment in the summer of 2018: He is slouched in an armless chair, hands in his jeans pockets, his head back, smiling confidently, assuredly. He has a wispy mustache, a hard part shaved into his hair. The photo is a little out of focus as though his image is still emerging. Behind his head is a shadow on the wall. The shadow is small and tentative, hovering over his shoulder. There I am.
Cuprins
Contents
Changing the Story
The Brother
The Man Next Door
Becoming Queered
Cities and Bodies in Motion
The Burning Bed
The Stasi Men
The Ghosts in Our Marriage
Men I Love
Afterword
Acknowledgments
Notes
Changing the Story
The Brother
The Man Next Door
Becoming Queered
Cities and Bodies in Motion
The Burning Bed
The Stasi Men
The Ghosts in Our Marriage
Men I Love
Afterword
Acknowledgments
Notes
Descriere
A memoir in essays that examines love, marriage, and identity in light of a spouse’s transition, asking what happens to us when the people we are closest to change.