Manhood For Amateurs
September 7, 2010 No CommentsFeminism threw a wrench in the works, not only redefining womanhood, but in many ways obliterating the foundation of masculinity.
Manhood for Amateurs is Michael Chabon’s attempt to explore the issue, yet it is blessedly free from lectures about the subject. It’s salvation lies in the tagline, which reads: The Pleasures and Regrets of a Husband, Father. and Son. This potentially unwieldy societal issue is whittled down to a series of stories about his life.
It’s a gentle, pleasurable read, perfect for a lazy summer day. He meanders through his childhood, his past loves, and how he deals with his children in no strict order. These are not saccharine tales of an idealized youth, though. There is real anguish there about not being available enough for his children, for ignoring warning signs about his wife’s depression, and for letting go of the father figures he has loved.
The character he presents in the book is loveable. You want him to be, in turn, your father, your husband and your brother. His family is fun and happy, and the reader is happy to be invited along.
The book is beautifully written. It is fun and as you read it you forget that the words were put on the page with the care of a poet. Here is how he begins the chapter entitled “I Feel Good About My Murse”:
One of the fundamental axioms of masculine self-regard is that the tools and appurtenances of a man’s life must be containable within the pocket of his jacket and pants…The necessary corollary of this to this inviolate principle is that no man, even, ought to carry a purse. Purses are for women; a purse is basically a vagina with a strap.
And here is how he describes the turning point that made buying a man-bag possible:
It was the diaper bag that broke me. When my first child was born, the idea that a bag intended for the transport of bottles, ointment, nipples and Huggies ought not emasculate its male bearer was a proposition only slightly more devoid of sense than at the present time.
Alongside the humour about his gender, there is a real pride about being a man. It teaches us that women are not the only sex imbued with magical mystery.
Throughout the book, he returns time and again to his love of comic books. In the penultimate chapter he explains that he doesn’t like the term fan, which stems from fanatic. He prefers amateur: “a lover, a devotee, a person driven by passion and obsession to do it — to explore the imaginary world — oneself.”
This book, with love and devotion, explores the glory of masculinity. I heartily recommend it to anyone who is a passionate amateur of manhood, whether they possess a penis or are simply a fan of those who do.





