Why Don’t I Read Books by Men?

The provocative title of this post was inspired by two conversations I’ve had in the past week or so that have made me reflect on the gender skew of the books that I read.

Firstly, I had a really interesting chat with a friend who works in the publishing industry about how there seems to be a dearth of contemporary fiction books written by younger straight men on emotional subjects. We were standing in his bookshop, surrounded by similar books written by women and queer people, reflecting on how it would be brilliant to get more insight into the emotional lives of straight men today.

Later, I met a friend for dinner who openly challenged me about my reading habits and how I seem to avoid books written by men. He’s a fan of this newsletter (obviously!), so I pulled up my StoryGraph, and had the proof that my reading habits skew overwhelmingly toward women and queer people. I have to put my hands up and admit that, as a woman with a very feminine and queer social circle, who is part of a feminist book club, I’m guilty of ignoring the male perspective, but I also wonder where the male equivalents of Sally Rooney, Sheena Patel and Coco Mellors are. I desperately want to know more about the emotional landscape of straight men today, especially in our increasingly online world that seems to make it impossible to have meaningful intimate connections, especially in romance. Our world has created zero space for men to meaningfully express their deeper vulnerable selves and publishing is either ignoring these perspectives or not receiving submissions on them.

I’ve read two books recently that gave me the insight I’ve been craving: Open Water by Caleb Azumah Nelson and In The End, It Was All About Love by Musa Okwonga (queer, but still!) offered sensitive and considered viewpoints on how men respond to the current landscape of intimacy and love and both were deeply affecting and beautiful.

My friend at dinner gave me two books written by straight men in a direct effort to address my bias: The Constant Gardener by John le Carré and The Narrow Road to the Deep North by Richard Flanagan. Both of these authors are older than I’d prefer, but I’m now openly asking people to recommend me books that fill the gap I’m craving to fill. Having studied English in university, it’s not that I lack knowledge on the classics or am unaware of the ways in which male perspectives have been prioritised over female, but I now want to take on more contemporary younger male viewpoints. Please send me your recommendations before I lose the ability to speak or relate to straight men altogether.