The Male Gazed

by Manuel Betancourt

Featuring deep dives into thirst traps, drag queens, Antonio Banderas, and telenovelas—all in the service of helping us reframe how we talk about (desiring) men—this insightful memoir-in-essays is as much a coming of age as a coming out book

Manuel Betancourt has long lustfully coveted masculinity—in part because he so lacked it. As a child in Bogotá, Colombia, he grew up with the social pressure to appear strong, manly, and, ultimately, straight. And yet in the films and television he avidly watched, Betancourt saw glimmers of different possibilities. From the stars of telenovelas and the princes of Disney films to pop sensation Ricky Martin and teen heartthrobs in shows like Saved By the Bell, he continually found himself asking: Do I want him or do I want to be him?

The Male Gazed grapples with the thrall of masculinity, examining its frailty and its attendant anxieties even as it focuses on its erotic potential. Masculinity, Betancourt suggests, isn’t suddenly ripe for deconstruction—or even outright destruction—amid so much talk about its inherent toxicity. Looking back over decades’ worth of pop culture’s attempts to codify and reframe what men can be, wear, do, and desire, this book establishes that to gaze at men is still a subversive act.

Written in the spirit of Hanif Abdurraqib and Olivia Laing, The Male Gazed mingles personal anecdotes with cultural criticism to offer an exploration of intimacy, homoeroticism, and the danger of internalizing too many toxic ideas about masculinity as a gay man.

Genres: Nonfiction, Queer, LGBT, Memoir, Essays, Gay, Audiobook

208 pages, Hardcover

First published May 30, 2023

Reviews

[Meike · Rating 3 out of 5]

A non-fiction book about pop culture and looking at beautiful men? Count me in! More than anything though, "The Male Gazed" is the memoir of Betancourt, a gay cultural critic who grew up in Columbia, studied in Canada and now resides in Los Angeles. Structured around themes, he enriches his experiences with cultural commentary, which makes for an unusual, but very readable mixture if you are willing to follow this author in his almost stream-of-consciousness style that associates personal anecdote with the interpretation of art.

Alas, the book starts out with lots of pop culture I personally do not care about (which is of course a statement about me, not about the value of Betancourt's work):
- The author depicts how Disney villains relate to the construction of masculinity (and I admit it's pretty interesting how the likes of Hercules and Gaston were inspired by the (gay) bodybuilding scene, although I couldn't care less about Disney)
- We hear about the male body in wrestling, with a shout-out to Stephen Florida (which I love)
- We learn about male representation in the Colombian telenovela "Hombres"
- Betancourt ponders male anger in different animated series
- There's also a piece about masculinity and superheroes and
- about Ru Paul's "Drag Race"
...and that's all well done and super valid, but not exactly fascinating to me.

But then, there are texts about
- Calvin Klein, Pedro Almodovar und Antonio Banderas
- Ricky Martin and the coming out of a sex symbol
- full male nudity in photography and film as well as
- gay futurity (feat. Querelle of Brest), also in the Fassbinder rendition!)
...and I was intrigued!

So be prepared for the specific themes when going into this. On a more general note, I really enjoy the combination of art criticism and memoir, which is becoming more and more popular. And let's see what Betancourt will deliver next.

[Gerhard · Rating 5 out of 5]

The manufactured intimacy a show like Drag Race creates, though, has served as a welcome window into a kind of queer utopia, a space where bodies aren’t sites of contention but sites of artistry and possibility. A space where, following Ru’s cosmology, we’re all encouraged to break masculinity apart, not because it needs to be destroyed but because it deserves to be exploded and extended—to have it be expansive enough to embrace the many multitudes it has always contained.

When an author discusses the heteronormativity inherent in Disney movies, to the impact of, er, seminal texts like ‘The Sexual Outlaw’ by John Rechy and ‘Myra Breckinridge’ by Gore Vidal, to telenovelas, Rupaul’s Drag Race, and the implicit meaning of the cape for Walter Mercado and your run-of-the-mill superhero, to the homoeroticism of certain sports like wrestling, you know you are in for a pretty wild ride.

This deep dive into masculinity and pop culture is quite personal, highly readable, and hugely affecting. Think of Manuel Betancourt as your personal host as he guides you through his book, mining a lifetime of memories, combined with cogent (and often hilarious) analysis.

He also tackles a subject on the gay agenda often overshadowed by the gender debate: uncoupling effeminacy from homosexuality, which he says is “as forward-looking a goal as any other.” A wonderful book highly recommended for any fan of pop culture – no matter your orientation, gender, or pronouns.

[Nev · Rating 5 out of 5]

I had a great time reading this. It’s an excellent bridge between personal essays and more academic looks at the different topics throughout the book. The Male Gazed is about the ways that the media portrays masculinity and homoeroticism and how that impacts the ways that men, especially gay men, think about themselves and others. There were so many pieces of media being analyzed here that I personally haven’t read about before. Or even when it was a topic like Disney movies, the angle was different than what most pieces of pop culture criticism focus on.

Manuel Betancourt grew up in Colombia, so it was interesting to see his perspective on US media. I also enjoyed being introduced to TV shows, figures, or concepts that I hadn’t heard of before. A telenovela from the mid-90s called Hombres was the focus of one chapter, and through Betancourt’s description of the show and analysis it was easy to understand the landscape when it came to masculinity in Colombia as he was growing up.

I really love books where people dive deep into the media that had a big impact on them, especially when it relates to sexuality. The Male Gazed covers so much ground, from Saved by the Bell, anime, Pedro Almodóvar, Ricky Martin, Walter Mercado, wrestling singlets, to so much more. I’d definitely recommend it to anyone who enjoys a blend of memoir and pop culture criticism that skews a bit more scholarly.

Thank you to the publisher for providing an advance copy via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

[Cormac · Rating 2 out of 5]

I’m so sorry to leave a bad review but this book made me regret my compulsion to finish every book I start. It’s BEYOND navel-gazing — which isn’t a bad thing on its own, per se, but the author’s self obsession comes at the expense of both his stories and argument.

He waxes on and on about being horny for things like Ricky Martin and men in briefs (I’m too young to have an opinion on the former, the latter is questionable at best). All the while, he’s using academic jargon alongside tired descriptors (if I have to hear testosterone-fuelled one more time, I’ll vomit) to describe a series of personal experiences with men in mass-media.

The numerous personal examples and chapters dedicated to describing the “bulging pectorals” of Gen X men while they “grip their belt like a penis” are at first forgivable, but quickly become straight up uncomfortable. He’s objectifying nearly everyone he talks about, and peppering the “analysis” with random self inserts that he doesn’t explain; for example, visually analyzing a scene of Drag Race that he watched “during a sex-fuelled weekend with a friend I’d long had a crush on, and haven’t seen since,” and then going on to describe RuPaul with a bunch of SAT prep words. Like.. okay? It makes an otherwise solid-but-not-quite-groundbreaking analysis of male sexuality in media feel, well, awkward and overshare-y. It’s got all the message-obscuring purple prose of academic writing with none of the citations.

If he’d developed his ideas beyond an entry level Gender Studies paper and left out the personal anecdotes — OR stopped trying to write a thesis and just told a straight up memoir about being a gay kid and watching movies — it could’ve worked. At present, though, it’s trying to do two things and failing with both. I feel so bad writing this because I’m sure he’s a great guy and he’s smart, but he really could’ve used a better editor.

[Matt Gets Lit · Rating 2 out of 5]

I didn’t like this book.

Initially, the problem was my approach. I assumed this was academic nonfiction, and as a result, I was annoyed there was so much sociological theorizing with no notes. Where are the citations? It's obvious the author is a well-educated person, with multiple mentions of books and constant use of overly complicated (or, as the author would say, "sesquipedalian") words, but all the references felt anecdotal. I would have appreciated a Works Cited page.

I went back to the book description: "collection of essays." But even then, after each essay, I thought, What was the thesis? What are the rebuttals? Did I learn something from this? What was the author's motivation in presenting this "study" to me? The answers weren't always clear. I finished the book, uncertain I had come away from it with anything new.

I went back to the subtitle: "...what pop culture taught me about (desiring) men." And there it is. "Me." These are personal recollections and thoughts. Instead of examining conventional beauty standards and why such standards exist (which is what I thought the book would be about), or even the history of how men have or haven't been gazed upon by society at large, the author instead writes at length about his own attractions and what it means for him to desire men. Which is fine, I suppose; it just didn't come across as very interesting.

Two final thoughts: 1, The author can't write a straight sentence, pun intended. Every paragraph is full of parentheses, asides, and em dashes. It was so distracting, I found myself having to re-read sections to understand what the main point of the passage was. 2, I know photos cost extra, but this book really should have sprung for a few. The entire book is about pop culture, yet does not include a single photograph for reference. Every time there was a mention of a movie, TV show, advertisement, magazine cover, artistic photo, etc., I had to stop reading and search for it online.

[Braden Books · Rating 4 out of 5]

In under 200 pages, Betancourt provides ten essays on a variety of topics exploring the ins and outs of masculinity and the male form, aka why we're so enamored with wrestlers in singlets, Hercules, Gaston, and King Triton. Masculinity is truly such a learned and put on identity - a costume men wear to compete in our world's perpetual dick measuring contest. The way that I've been simultaneously turned on, scared, and annoyed at what I couldn't physically be isn't lost on my younger twink self. Hell, it's the reason many of us find inspo to get to the gym.

Admittedly, Manuel's writing starts off a bit too academic, but I quickly became fascinated by the topics presented. While some might find the writing to be too formal, this is still sexy and educational in my opinion, with glimspes of an autobiography. The chapter on briefs and bulges got me good, and I can't wait to read his next book on gay intimacy. God, I love being a gay guy, even with all its messy and glorious complexities.

[Jonathan · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have been a fan of Manuel Betancourt's writing for a long time, so I was thrilled when this book was announced. The longer medium gives Betancourt's sparkling intellect more space to expand and gleam—such thoughtful meditations on masculinity and the male body. Highlights for me: "Once Upon a Dream," "Laws of Desire," "Balls Out"

[Michael · Rating 1 out of 5]

Just. So. Pretentious.

The author dares, after 153 pages of over-written navel gazing, to criticize another writer's "jargon-riddled sentences" and "convoluted psychoanalytic readings."

Less than two pages later, he attempts to interpret the origins of his mother's pop culture and romantic predilections, and later uses the word "palimpsestuous" to describe RuPaul.

Ugh.

[Troy · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5

[Jonno · Rating 1 out of 5]

I still don't understand how or why the author chose the texts he writes about. He provides no evidence that the movies he discusses were seen by more people than other movies, or that the books he discusses were read by more people than other movies. There's no evidence that after a certain work was released, that field changed in a measurable way. So, I don't think he chose these texts for their impact on culture at large. Instead, I think he chose them for their impact on him. Yet he also doesn't provide evidence of that! He doesn't include anecdotes from his life in enough detail to show the concrete consequences of these works on his life. So what we're left with is just that Betancourt felt like writing about these works and for some reason Catapult decided to publish his musings. It's like he just wanted to talk about his favorite books, movies, and TV shows, and he used an academic approach to justify it. But he included the worst of academic writing, namely, a convoluted, flowery style that obfuscates what he's trying to say. This book leaves out the best of academic writing: clarity, logic, structure, citations, a direct question and a rigorous answer.

[Yurpdod · Rating 1 out of 5]

The Male Gazed is basically a series of self-indulgent remembrances and hollow observations revolving around men portrayed in media that Betancourt consumed throughout his upbringing.  I didn't find it anywhere as interesting as he clearly does. 

Part of the problem is that there isn't a clear point or focus to this book.  It exists in an uneasy space between memoir and a cultural study but isn't astute or thoughtful enough to be either.

Betancourt bounces back and forth between extremely niche cultural references, forcing me to constantly pause and look up a movie trailer or Wikipedia page. This entire book would have worked better as a series of blog posts with embedded images and videos.

Another unfortunate issue with the book is that Betancourt does not have a very fresh or significant take on the concept of male beauty. I was hoping he would have a more shrewd, evolved viewpoint but he seems content to worship blindly at the altar of conventional beauty standards. There are so many men (myself included) who have found themselves excluded from society's notions of attractiveness.  Has Betancourt really never thought about this?  I honestly feel bad for him.  For someone writing about male beauty he seems completely unaware of the opportunity to reevaluate some of his views on what exactly male beauty is.  I grew tired of hearing him fawn over Antonio Banderas over and over again. 

I checked Manuel Betancourt's Instagram and was not surprised to find that he himself fits within the standards of conventional masculine beauty.  That may explain some of his complacency and lack of perspective. To make a comparison, who enjoys hearing a billionaire talking about how great capitalism is?  Definitely not me.

Ultimately I found it to be a superficial, ineffectual reading experience.  I wouldn't recommend it.

[Harrison · Rating 4 out of 5]

I loved reading this collection of essays and learning new and interesting things about myself through the eyes of Manuel Betancourt.

He is a phenomenal writer and offers powerful insight and asks the reader what it means to be a "man", who is queer, and what it all means in the end.

I hope he writes something else soon for me to enjoy!

[Frankie]

DNF @30%. Accepted that I would not read any more of the essays and returned this to the library. It was boring and I realized I wasn’t actually very interested in the cult of the phallus. If you like media criticism and essay collections, this might be for you! It just wasn’t for me

[Andrew · Rating 4 out of 5]

Manuel Betancourt shares his story of what the 'male gaze' (or our society's obsession with gazing at the male physique) and his personal sexual awakening story through those images.
It's a really good read, full of fun facts and sparks for my memory. It also inspired me to check out a favorite Disney artist that I was not aware of, who was a fantastic contributor to my life in many ways.

[Kyle C · Rating 4 out of 5]

In feminist theory, "the male gaze" describes the ways in which women are objectified by heterosexual male viewers and how, similarly, representations of women are commodified for men's consumption and satisfaction. Women and women's bodies are turned into the targets of male spectatorship, appraisal and titillation. Men's bodies, however, are culturally ambivalent and vexing: the male nude is celebrated in classical statuary, renaissance art and modern advertising but, in daily Western norms, men's bodies are not meant to be gazed at, more often something to be covered and concealed (perhaps, surprisingly, more than women's bodies). In conservatives times and places, men are not supposed to wear skimpy shorts; they avoid tight outfits that accentuate their bodies; in business, men wear straight-ironed trousers, blazers and ties which hide the contours of their body; in youth, straight boys prefer to wear baggy jeans and loose-fitting shirts; women wear bikinis but men rarely wear speedos, and crop tops are rarer still. Male uniforms are fetishized (think about the familiar refrain, "I love a man in uniform"), precisely because the insignia of power and responsibility have draped and subsumed the male body entirely. While psychoanalysis may talk about "phallus envy", the penis itself is taboo, and the erect penis an obscenity. Female nudity is common in film but men's genitalia must be buttoned up and hidden, even in R-rated films. The penis itself belies the patriarchy's claim to hard invincibility and level-headed rationalism: when flaccid, it suggests vulnerability and weakness; when erect, it suggests unruly impulses and lascivious derangement. Men are exalted in the patriarchy but their bodies are a problem.

Betancourt's essays are a delightful survey of popular media and what they teach about the male body, masculinity and queerness. With a panoramic vision of global masculinities, linking high and low art—Japanese anime, Colombian telenovelas, Ricky Martin music videos, Calvin Kline adverts, Almodóvar films—Betancourt teases out the paradoxes of the male body. There is something emasculating about male nudity, about being subjected to the evaluative eyes of a prurient audience, becoming an object rather than an agent. Comparing Almodóvar's Law of Desire and Cattaneo's The Full Monty, Betancourt explores men's anxieties, and thrills, in becoming the spectacle instead of the spectator. Gay men, especially, feel a complicated relationship with masculinity and male bodies—unsure whether we simply want to have or to become the men we desire. As Betancourt notes, the mirror, for many gay men, is both "the first place we could play out our sexual fantasies" (Sean Hewitt makes a similar point in his recent memoir) but also "the source of many anxieties". The mirror reflects a male body but also makes clear one's own shortcomings from the idealized physique. Many gay men, consequently, develop an anxiety around masculinity, lusting after, but also feeling insecure, about the male body, its muscularity, its posture, its strength, and the billboard hunks of Bruce Weber or Herbs Ritts only reinscribe macho hegemony over queer effeminacy.

What is the future of the male body? Will the march to gender equality just see a greater pageant of male beefcakes to be ogled and objectified as much as female models? In one of his final essays, comparing The Fifth Element and Querelle, Betancourt considers the possibilities of queer futurism and a different aesthetic of the male body. The Fifth Element is a surprising outlier in 90s scifi—outrageously camp, garish and loud. Bruce Willis plays the typical role of the action-hero but, in a radical twist of the genre, he is decked in a bright orange tank top and defers to a warrior femme fatale. It's a futuristic funhouse in which an androgynous radio-star in a mini-skirt, Ruby Rhod, is a charismatic sex-star to a swooning audience of women, an iconic figure who decouples dandy flamboyance and gay effeminacy: seductive womanizers can also be swishy and girly. It imagines a world in which gender and sexuality are separated and also made fluid. Genet's 1947 Querelle (and Fassbinder's 1982 adaptation) are aesthetically and tonally different from The Fifth Element but they both engage in a similar project of upsetting the homophobic association of gay with female and reimagining queer masculinity. In Querelle, a murderous bisexual sailor seduces men, buggers and is buggered, and commits successive acts of violence and murder. He is hyper-masculine, with bulging muscles and a square jaw, but he has no sexual limits or reservations. Both Querelle and The Fifth Element push and invert the boundaries of what it means to be "macho".

It's a roaming collection of essays, combining cultural criticism and personal memoir, exploring an eclectic range of films and books.

[Josiah Sanchez · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sometimes you need a book to open your eyes to something. For me, this book illuminated the path I walk as a gay man: a path built brick-by-brick by those that came before me. Our history wasn’t just about the easily named, out and proud activists of history (I am appreciative of their work as well), but also about those who tried to push the boundaries in more subtle or nuanced ways. Photography, filmography, literature, the theater: members of these arts left impressions on the general public and gay people in particular that changed our cultural understanding of what it means to be gay. It’s fascinating to looks back and see the fingerprints of our gay ancestors on different cultural markers and to have a heightened sense of awareness about who is doing that same work in the present. Bravo to Manuel!

[Sam Hughes · Rating 5 out of 5]

AAHHHHH! I love sociological and psychological breakdowns of modernized and popularized pieces of the culture we grew up to know. It helps to break down the sense of generational and carried-on trauma, ya feel?

I am so thankful to Manuel Betancourt and Catapult Publishing for sending me this gorgeous finished copy before publication day, which is May 30th btw.

Our lovely author walks us through the various fictional characters throughout his upbringing that have helped to cultivate his type, in way. From Beauty and the Beast's Gaston to various telenovela showrunners, to even many musicals and wrestling stars, there's a case of analyzing society's projections and ultra-scripting with all of these scenarios. I was transfixed by each scenario and comparison, and could keep reading Betancourt's work for days.

[grace · Rating 1 out of 5]

I started this book out in the Kindle version because I thought there were going to be lots of poignant moments I would want to highlight.

Girl I had to switch to the audio book 50 pages in because I kept saying to myself, “dawg how much more of this book do I have?” I knew if I was not able to listen to this book at x2 speed I would never finish. And finish I must because I fucking started this mess and I was going to mark this for my Goodreads if just out of spite. If I wanted to write my full complaint review I was going to be able to say that I had read, or listened, to the whole thing.

The first chapter starts off strong and lulls you into a false sense of security as we talk about the masculinity presented in Disney films. We start strong discussing how men in Disney films often present a softer side of masculinity, one that society often criticized. This is a great point! This will be the last good point made in this book!

My FAVOURITE part of this book was when the author would use a Spanish term and then instead of translating it would instead say, “this is untranslatable because of cultural reason”. Well bitch! I didn’t want to go to the fucking party anyway! I guess I had to be there to understand the joke, huh! Too bad there isn’t a writer in the room with us who could maybe come up with something to make people understand what he is talking about! Better move the fuck on to talking about our childhood.

This book also reads like someone in undergrad who is desperately trying to impress their cool professor so they will be deemed the smartest undergrad and win the prize of being donned the most called on in class. I’m out here fucking trying to thesaurus every other word like this bitch was me writing fanfic in middle school thinking I couldn’t use “said”. My brother in Christ we are not trying to get into JSTOR we are trying to have a pop psychology book about the gays.

One good question homie here poses and then never answers is, “How much of the male body can be revealed (can be made vulnerable) before it spills over into… homoerotic, if not ought right gay, territory?”

Great question! If only we have a novel talking about how men are perceived in society that would talk about this! And we do! It’s called “For the Love of Men” by Liz Plank and we should all go read that instead.

[Patrick · Rating 5 out of 5]

Betancourt opens his acknowledgements saying, "This book has been a long time coming." I'd argue that's true both for him as a writer but also the (hopefully) countless gay and queer men and people who read it. It feels like the culmination of many conversations I've had with myself and friends, and while it's one that is always ongoing, this book feels like a moment of reckoning and understanding I've long looked for.

As important as it is to understand gender and sexuality as separate concepts, Betancourt presents a series of essays arguing their inextricable link, posing the question we've all asked at one time or another: do I want to be him, or do I want to be with him? I've thought long and hard about where I discovered my desire for men, but what did those same sources simultaneously teach me about being a man? Each chapter is a mix of memoir and analysis, a format that can be tricky to make work but that Betancourt does with ease.

I'll admit that I went into the book thinking it would be full of mostly familiar pop culture references, but there were as many if not more that were new to me, and as many from American pop culture as from Betancourt’s Columbian upbringing—all of which I enjoyed. Keep your phone handy; I relished googling every movie, photo, person, or show that I wasn't familiar with.

Read 👏🏻 this 👏🏻 book! For me, there was also something so special about reading it in peak summer, when so much of my own desire and identity (pools, beaches, summer camp, and later Pride and Fire Island) was formed.

[Joey Vich · Rating 5 out of 5]

An absolutely fascinating deep dive into why and how young gay men have been trained since childhood to be in awe of the musculature of hunky men. Ever wonder why, as a 90’s child, you’re first gay crush was on Disney’s Hercules or Gaston ? Bestie, Gerald Scarfe , an out gay man, was a HEAD Disney artist, who designed our favorite disney hunks and queer coded villains. This info blew my mind, amongst everything else within here !

[Michael · Rating 2 out of 5]

I heard Betancourt's interview on NPR about this book and unfortunately, for me, the interview was more interesting than his writing. I wasn't particularly captivated by the writing or the scenarios he wrote about. I found a lot of the cultural analysis uninteresting and shallow and felt that he could have offered more but was too focused on centering it around himself. And yes, I'm aware these are essays about his life and his experiences, but I didn't find him interesting enough to care.

[Thea · Rating 3 out of 5]

Some points never fully arrived at their destinations but maybe that’s okay. That said, I wish it was more heavy academia !

[Dani Rosen · Rating 3 out of 5]

I think this was just a list of the men that the author has been attracted to

[Hilary · Rating 4 out of 5]

A melding of personal memoir and cultural criticism through sharp examinations on cultural representations on masculinity, queerness, and the male body. Manuel Betancourt’s THE MALE GAZED presents cultural criticism in a format I deeply appreciate: accessible, jargon-free (or explained), personal, and relatable. Reading THE MALE GAZED felt like having a coffee chat with an immensely smart friend who is at a transcendent level of self-awareness and would happily answer any question you have. From Disney buffs to telenovela men, sculpted anime bodies to Channing Tatum’s ass, Betancourt strips down (har har) cultural thirst traps and moments in film and television to reveal what they say about eroticism, homosexuality, performance, societal expectations, and the relationship between the gazers and the gazed-s—as well as how they tie into Betancourt’s own experiences of queerness. We’re brought directly into moments where queerness emerged in between or discreetly despite “expectations” of straightness or an implied (straight) feminine audience: openings filled with possibilities of queer desire. This may be beyond the scope of THE MALE GAZED, but by the end, I was left wondering about desire that overtly opposes not just the straightness of gaze and the desirability of the gazers, but the idealized, toned, hunky bodies of the gazed themselves.

Favorite essay of mine from this book: definitely “Once Upon a Dream” on showing me Disney animated movies in a different light (seriously, now I can’t help but think about how King Triton was a total silver-haired stud).

[Thanks to the publisher for a gifted copy]

[Ethan · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5

Sooooooo I just feel like I didn’t get what the author was trying to say/ the references to culture he was making. Very well written and nothing but respect for my man Manuel! I just don’t think it was for me sadly.

[Benjamin · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loved this. Really speaking my language by expressing every point through a movie or tv show

[Tomes And Textiles]

This book was such a fun investigation of queerness through the lens of pop culture. If you love Disney, Saved By The Bell, and Walter Mercado, this is an enjoyable and accessible nonfiction work.

[Josh Adams · Rating 4 out of 5]

I picked up this book because the summary spoke to some things I had struggled with prior to accepting I was gay. A big one was whether I was into guys or if I just wanted to be them. Reading someone else deconstruct these thoughts from a variety of ways was fascinating, enlightening, and affirming.

Betancourt examines what it means (at least for him) to consume pop culture as a gay man. He does this by examining films, books, and television. Having been born and raised in Colombia, his experiences are slightly different than mine but also very similar. In fact, despite being two totally different countries our experiences (as far as pop culture consumption in relation to our sexuality) is pretty much the same.

Betancourt’s essays are thoughtful, always taking pop culture through the lens of his own life. I’m sure his experiences aren’t universal (few are) but I do think it would help any gay allies trying to gain a better understanding of gay life.

[Hayden · Rating 2 out of 5]

Vapid, self-indulgent, and frustratingly boring. Betancourt offers a handful of intriguing insights but those come more toward the end of the book, when the momentum to finish it greatly wanes and the whole thing begins to feel like a chore to finish after paging through limp observations and shoehorned-in personal anecdotes that don't push the thesis forward. I wanted more from this. I wanted more nuance. I wanted more "Huh! I never considered that before" moments. Instead, this book read like a term paper.

[Dede Yocum · Rating 3 out of 5]

“The line between aggressive heterosexuality and rampant homoeroticism has long been a porous one.”

that is essentially the theme of this collection of essays and i thought it was really well done! it was very personal but also brought out really wonderful examples of how masculinity is both depicted in media and then perceived by gay men. i couldn’t relate to a lot of it but i still thought it was a compelling read.