I Hate Men By Pauline Harmange

review I Hate Men

Almost banned in France, translated into English, and adored by yours truly.

But what if misandry were necessary – healthy, even? I get why women reject it. It’s unnerving to be accused of being a horrid extremist who hates men. Thousands of women were burned at the stake for less. But you know what? I’m going to have a go. I’ll admit it: I hate men. All of them, really? Yes, the whole lot of them. (!!)

That doesn’t, however, stop me from wondering why men are as they are. They’re violent, selfish, lazy and cowardly. It doesn’t stop me wondering why we women are supposed graciously to accept their flaws – what am I saying, I mean their deficiencies – even though men beat, rape and murder us. Boys will be boys. Girls, on the other hand, will become women, and will learn to make their peace with this, because there’s no way to escape the narrow vision of our destiny as refracted through the crystal ball of the patriarchy. . . . So much existential dread, for which I don’t feel a great deal of sympathy. All that time they spend sniveling about how hard it is to be a poor persecuted man nowadays is just a way of adroitly shirking their responsibility to make themselves a little less the pure products of the patriarchy.

Ultimately, misandry is a principle of precaution.

But beware of the man who slopes off in the other direction, and starts beating himself up with a great wailing and gnashing of teeth; no woman, and certainly no misandrist, has the slightest desire to listen to a man bemoaning his lot as a privileged male, playing the martyr.

This is how they become misandrists. Because there simply aren’t very many other options, and because, once they’ve had their eyes opened to the profound mediocrity of the majority of men, there’s no good reason to carry on liking them by default.

Anger and violence are often conflated, though the two don’t necessarily go hand in hand. Anger at being treated as an inferior is not remotely comparable to the violence committed by the men who humiliate, rape and kill us, or even the violence committed by the men who ignore us, turn their backs on us and mock us. We have everything to gain by distancing ourselves from the limited role of the patient, gentle, almost passive woman, and insisting that men make the effort to become better people.

And if you’re a misandrist, you deserve no better than a misogynist. In the collective imagination, misandry and misogyny are two sides of the same coin, that of sexism. . . . Misandry and misogyny cannot be compared, quite simply because the former exists only in reaction to the latter. . . . We misandrists stay in our lane. We might hate men, but at best we put up with them, frostily, because they’re everywhere and we don’t have any choice (incredible but true: it’s possible to hate someone without having an irrepressible urge to kill them). At worst we stop inviting them into our lives – or at least we make a drastic selection beforehand. Our misandry scares men, because it’s the sign that they’re going to have to start meriting our attention. Having relationships with men isn’t something we owe them, a duty, but, as in every balanced relationship, all the parties involved have to make an effort to treat one another with respect.

This priority, to be a trusted friend for women, has become a matter of urgency, and not only in cases of trauma, not only in the darkest of situations. I have made sisterhood my compass. I have a circle of radiant, talented, passionate, extraordinarily spirited female friends, who deserve all my support and all my love. I’ve chosen to devote to them – to all women – all my relational energy. . . . So now I’ve decided to privilege women, in the books I read, the films I watch, the culture I imbibe, and in my close friendships, so that men just aren’t that important any more. Instead I privilege this sisterhood, which is so supportive, which nourishes me – in my creativity, my radicalism, my thinking both about myself and about society – in so many areas of my life, where, I’ve finally realised, I have no need of men to shape the person I am. . . . Because female solidarity is never frivolous, it’s always political.

We have the power to create spaces and times in our lives where we do not serve the interests of men. Where they merely float in the air, just beyond our field of vision, and only if we summon them. Where we’re free to say whatever we like about them, and also the opposite: not to talk about them at all, to make space for every other subject in the world and in our lives.
80 What a terrible book. The writer seems to be having a past traumatic experience that is yet to heal. Thus, her writing sounds pretty much like a diary of a mad bonkers spouting nonsensical gobbledygook. She has a highly questionable and delusional belief that hating men will make the world a better place to live. She forgets that her entire being was, after all, originated from a single drop of sperm of a man. I hate to admit it, but let's be honest here. Being a feminist is so tiring. I would rather be happy. That said, don't ever waste your preciously limited time reading this garbage. It would get you nowhere. There is way much better literature out there that you can find, peruse, and experience. Go and explore the vastness of the world. 80 A clear and direct essay, short and incisive, in which the title is immediately explained for what it really means: hatred for men is not hatred per se, and in any case not for all men, but generally for wealthy, heterosexual, cisgender and able-bodied white men, who are at the top of the pyramid of social privilege, enjoy it fully and, above all, do nothing about it.

The book focuses on some of the main reasons why men should be hated. Women do not need men to be happy, nor should they be conditioned by their opinions, their mocking gaze, their power exercised through the privilege of a heteropatriarchal society. Women need to stop pleasing men and start thinking about their own happiness.

And if to make this leap it is necessary to first hate men in order to stop justifying them, understanding them, resigning to the idea that this is how things are in this world – then this hatred, this misanthropy, is welcome.

However, misanthropy is never to be intended as the opposite of misogyny (in the same way that feminism is not the opposite of male chauvinism). The author explains this difference very well through recent statistics – hating women, for men, means rape, abuse, and killing. For women it means at worst not letting mediocre men step into their lives anymore. 80 I read an article about this book in the New York Times that basically boiled down to a lady said a true thing and dude-bros got offended. And I thought to myself, I MUST read this!

OMG. You need to read it. It is amazing. Every ounce of aggravation I've had my entire life is summed up in this book. She says ALL the things my female friends and I have been thinking or saying to each other for years. And she does it frankly and unapologetically.

My favorite is the segment on WWMWDD? What would a mediocre white dude do? Women have to be twice as good to only be THOUGHT OF as half as good. When I look at my *profoundly mediocre* male coworkers over the years and the number of times when I was MORE qualified, MORE productive, BETTER at the job, and yet still made (and continue to make) less than male counterparts and get passed over for promotions. The bar is SO LOW, men can get away with putting in the bare minimum effort and are rewarded for it. Meanwhile, women are expected to achieve superhuman feats both in the workplace and at home.

The older I get, the less interested I am in spending time in the company of men. There are some who I am fond of, some of whom even THINK they are feminist and supportive even as they talk over me and mansplain my feelings and opinions to me. It's just exhausting. 80 Short and to the point. Men suck. 80


there are two wolves inside me : one wants to make a fully detailed review of this book to highlight its flaws but to also explain that some points might be fair, and the other one wants to simply write fair enough, i hate men too 80 I'm so confused as to why this is a. so controversial and b. so lauded. It says literally nothing new. It's like basic white girl feminism 101. It makes no attempt at intersectionality, the arguments are basically 'men oppress women as a group and that's bad' (i.e. the idea that was quite controversial in Simone de Beauvoir's era, but less so now) and the author is a middle class white woman who's married to a man. Revolutionary, this ain't.

It's probably fine if you're just getting into feminist ideology, but for anyone who's read literally more than two other feminist texts, it just retreads the same old ground as most Dua Lipa lyrics.

Lads, if you think this one's controversial, you'll absolutely burst a vein at polemics with more meat on the bones of their thesis. Try Vivek Shraya's 'I'm Afraid of Men' as a follow-up to this one; it's equally short and has a very similar cover, but might actually make you think. 80 Prendete 100 persone e chiedete loro se preferiscono una verità amara o una dolce bugia. Vi assicuro che tutti e 100 vi risponderanno allo stesso modo. Sulla carta naturalmente.

Nella realtà quello che succede è un'altra cosa.

Ho letto questo libro perché ne parlavano tutti e iniziava a fare un certo rumore, il titolo mi sembrava provocatorio e quindi ho deciso di leggerlo per farmi la mia idea. Ho scoperto presto che il titolo era tutt'altro che provocatorio. L'autrice infatti non ha problemi a dire che odia gli uomini.


Nonostante ne abbia sposato uno e sostenendo che lo ama anche molto (mh).
Il libro è una sorta di elenco di idee che l'autrice utilizza per supportare la sua tesi. Che odiare gli uomini è giusto. Che gli uomini sono degli esseri violenti, egoisti, pigri e vigliacchi. Che odiare gli uomini la riempie di gioia. Che anche se un maschietto non è daccordo, cito testualmente «il minimo che possa fare .. di fronte ad una donna che avanza una tesi misandrica è ascoltare in silenzio»

E io mi chiedo: Perchè?

Perché dovrei stare in silenzio nel momento in cui vedo una che manco ha trent'anni e si permette di sparare sentenze generalizzando in questo modo? Perché sta combattendo una disuguaglianza? Perché si batte a favore delle donne?
Intendiamoci, chi legge la mia roba sa che sono sempre sopra le righe, ma allo stesso tempo ho la mentalità molto aperta. Non ignoro cosa succede nel mondo. Ma non è questo il Femminismo sano che aiuta la (giusta) causa per cui si batte.
Non sono tuttavia sicuro che la venticinquenne sia allo stesso modo aggiornata su certe cose che riguardano il mondo, visto che tra le sue argomentazioni troviamo: (parafraso)

- Che la donna alle cene di famiglia viene vista come sfigata se single a differenza dell'uomo. E qui mi verrebbe voglia di farle vedere i filmini dei miei pranzi passati coi miei.

- Che la donna si sforza sempre di più dell'uomo per farsi piacevole ai suoi occhi, quando in tutta onestà mai come in questa era io ho visto uomini esperti in skincare e cazzi e mazzi, palestra e lampade.

- Che la donna «non è che deve sposarsi perché il signorino ha bisogno di organizzarsi l'agenda e lavare la biancheria»

Quindi l'idea che l'autrice sostiene di essere legittima vede l'uomo come un violento, che non si cura, che non sa come gestirsi la giornata e che manco sa farsi una lavatrice. Ma che significa? Intendiamoci, ci sono sicuramente dei casi in cui la situazione è questa, ma da qui a generalizzare ci sta un abisso.

Una canzone una volta diceva «Lo sai che è facile odiare il terremoto, il difficile è costruire» e credo si applichi bene in questo contesto. Solo perché certi problemi esistono non significa che sia sano combattere il fuoco con il fuoco. Pensate se i neri scrivessero un libro in cui odiano tutti i bianchi. Tutti quanti, sostenendo sia legittimo odiarli perché ogni giorno centinaia di disugualianze razziali affliggono un nero per mano di un bianco. Un bianco come voi. Non vi girerebbe il cazzo?

Io penso di sì.

Ma naturalmente io sono un maschio etero bianco quindi cosa volete che conti la mia opinione. Cosa volete che sia se libri di questo tipo fanno cadere i coglioni anche alla gente a cui interessano certe tematiche.

Capitemi, non sono stupido e so che la maggior parte degli utenti su Goodreads è di sesso femminile. E ho visto che il libro ha preso un sacco di giudizi positivi. Avrei potuto tranquillamente scrivere una roba tipo «Un po' oltre le righe ma ci voleva una battaglia portata avanti in questo modo!» e prendermi un sacco di like e bei commenti.

Quindi secondo voi perché non l'ho fatto?

Perché certe cose sono più importanti. Perché è troppo facile combattere l'odio con altro odio.
Pensatela come volete, leggete il libro e fatevi la vostra idea.
Ma vi prego, vi supplico, vi imploro.
Usate la testa.

Peace Off

Videorecensione: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jP15G...
80 I have a few thoughts about this, but before we start, let’s address the elephant in the room: I’m a man. And since that makes me part of the majority that the author is devoted to hating, I’m probably not 100% unbiased.

This essay is what it says it is. Don’t expect a “well, actually, I don’t hate men, but you know what I mean.” It’s not going to happen. The author hates men and calls for other women to hate men too.

And I think that’s where my problem with the book lies. That I don’t believe hating, expressing hate, devoting your life to hate, leads you or anyone to a better place in the long run.

That being said, I hate men too. Yes, men are trash. Yes, all men, whether they like it or not, form part of a powerful majority that oppresses everyone else in the world. It’s an all-pervasive structure that no man can ever fully escape, even if these men try to do the work and want to deconstruct the patriarchy. In a world where you a born into privilege and power, you will always benefit from being a man, even if you despise this system.

Most of what the author says is true. Women are murdered, abused, raped, violated, traumatized, etc. every day of their lives. Through the hands of men. So yes, you are entitled to that anger, you are entitled to that hate. These are valid feelings. And it’s exhausting when you try to change that injustice but with every step you take, it seems like nothing ever changes for good. Instead, you pour your soul into a lost cause that never gives you anything in return.

Let’s take that thought one step further. Say all women are fully committed to hating men and completely erase them from their lives, other minorities start doing the same thing. All Black people refuse to interact with white people, which then also means that all Black women refuse to share a sisterhood with any white woman. Furthermore, all queer people fully commit to hating straight people, meaning again that queer Black women will no longer interact with straight Black women, widening the divide further. We can keep playing this game, but I’m sure you know where we’re going.

Maybe you’re shaking your head thinking, this is not *really* what the author means, she doesn’t *really* want a world without men, she doesn’t *really* hate them and calls for all other women to hate them too. But that’s exactly what this book is. It says it right there, on the cover, in bold letters. And then again, several times once you turn the page. It’s not a solution-based approach, it’s not thought-through, its only answer is hate and the shallow promise of healing and sisterhood, but if everyone only has hate for the people that oppress them, there can be no sisterhood, and no healing. Because your sisters will turn from you, since you as a white woman have peak privilege and benefit from the patriarchy and white supremacy in a way that no BIPOC woman does. In the end, the essay fails to think intersectionally and even reinforces a binary in which men just cannot help to be manly men, and women are simply womanly women with all the stereotypes attached to their gender.

That being said, anger and frustration need expressing. And this book is angry, rightly so. There is so much to be angry about. It’s a satisfactory feeling too. It’s easy to hate, and by god it’s hard to love.

Lastly, I want to recommend an amazing feminist and anti-racist book that talks hate crimes, rape culture, white supremacy and how to strive in a world that threatens to swallow you whole. It’s almost a direct answer to this essay, and on top of that it’s an extremely good book: See No Stranger: A Memoir and Manifesto of Revolutionary Love by the amazing Valarie Kaur.

Find more of my books on Instagram 80 LOL. This is a delightful book, an argument for misandry that’s convincing af. It’s only shortcoming is that it lacks depth. Feels more like an essay than a book. Which is fine. It’s a fun essay. I would have loved to see the author really go beyond the idea of hating men but a book doesn’t need to be everything to everyone. I liked this. No surprise there. 80

The feminist book they tried to ban in France

Women, especially feminists and lesbians, have long been accused of hating men. Our instinct is to deny it at all costs. (After all, women have been burnt at the stake for admitting to less.)

But what if mistrusting men, disliking men - and yes, maybe even hating men - is, in fact, a useful response to sexism? What if such a response offers a way out of oppression, a means of resistance? What if it even offers a path to joy, solidarity and sisterhood?

In this sparkling essay, as mischievous and provocative as it is urgent and serious, Pauline Harmange interrogates modern attitudes to feminism and makes a rallying cry for women to find a greater love for each other - and themselves. I Hate Men