Fans pick 100 books like Testo Junkie

A foundational text of queer theory and queer literary reading practices, Epistemology of the Closet is absolutely irreplaceable.

Originally also an intervention in the AIDS crisis and in late-twentieth-century homophobia, the updated version places the original argument in historical context. The book elaborates on an influential practice later termed “closet reading,” wherein the reader analyzes homoerotic meaning that for various reasons, including censorship, legal repercussions, and social norms, the author couldn’t or wouldn’t state directly.

Sedgwick offers sharp and illuminating interpretations of such writers as Friedrich Nietzsche and Oscar Wilde. The sweep of the book extends from law, public policy, and Continental philosophy to literary study.

Beyond Sexuality is the most consequential psychoanalytic intervention in queer theory.

Much of queer theory has used Michel Foucault’s History of Sexuality to reject or downplay psychoanalysis. Dean argues that psychoanalysis, particularly in the writings and seminars of French psychoanalyst Jacques Lacan, offers a far more useful theoretical model.

Such theorists as Judith Butler misconstrue sexual desire by focusing on identity, rather than language and its effects. Desire, according to psychoanalysis, does not arise from our identifications—not even our gender identifications—but from the failures of identity. Desire is not constructed in language but manifests precisely where language breaks down.

Beyond Sexuality also offers a psychoanalytic reading of HIV/AIDS in the aftermath of the AIDS crisis.

Profit and Pleasure is the most provocative Marxist intervention in queer theory.

Hennessy charges that queer theory’s focus on representation, identity, and subjectivity works to render the structures of capitalism invisible. Postindustrial capitalism produces “gender-flexible” and sexually diverse subjects to meet the demands of today’s globalized commodity system.

Queer theory, instead of addressing this development, has aided in our commodification by repressing the connections between the multiplication of identities and economic exploitation, connections that capitalism works to conceal. Queer theory needs to extend beyond the cultural purview of identity politics to address contemporary capitalism directly.

Aberrations in Black is not the only important early queer of color intervention in queer theory, but I find it the most rewarding.

Showing how signal works in the African-American literary tradition pose important challenges to social norms and to the sociological discourse of their times, Ferguson advances an intersectional critique that forefronts race and also attends to gender, sexuality, and class.

The book’s brilliant close readings, such as the reading Toni Morrison’s Sula in the context of The Moynihan Report particularly stand out. The book is a corrective to the apparent colorblindness of much of early queer theory.

I have always thought that we desperately need to hear from transmen and transwomen to help distinguish the effects of biological sex from those of cultural gender conditioning—more specifically, to illuminate both the influence of our respective high levels of estrogen or testosterone) and, in a word, sexism. Using interviews with transmen, Schilt very much does the latter. Consider this book a thorough precursor (2010) to the much-publicized experiences of Martin and Nicole (Google it); Martin concludes, about his experience being treated as Nicole, "It sucked." Indeed. (And the surprise experienced by so many transmen at their post-trans experiences supports the view that most women have no idea how easy men have it.)

This book entertained me from the beginning until the end.

I applaud the author’s learning curve, increased happiness, and sense of belonging as the story progresses. Her circumnavigation brought back memories and made me feel like a kindred spirit, because her personality traits, passions, priorities, and thought processes are similar to mine. My favorite parts were her wildlife encounters. 

I also recognized myself in Jackie’s experiences and musings – from being in a mixed-culture relationship, learning to sail from our partner, leaving our home country for good, departing our adopted country after becoming a resident, needing our own challenges and jobs, getting seasick, and not spending money on ourselves to her statement that life is not about luck but about choices.

We both take our readers on a journey of courage and discovery that is inspiring, thrilling, and thought-provoking.

We all think testosterone is the ‘male hormone’–it’s what makes men, well, men. It’s what is measured to decide who is a woman in the Olympics, and it is injected or ingested by some people to become more masculine. But ‘T,’ as this book and many others refer to it, is not as straightforwardly any of the things we think it is–all of these views of T come from how society and ideology have constructed it, sometimes in contradiction to clear fact.

Across 223 detailed but surprisingly engaging pages, the authors show how T has been mythologized and misunderstood, and moreover how these myths and misunderstandings have affected not just popular conceptions of T and masculinity, but the very science of T, as well.

This final book in the Jas Anderson trilogy sees Jas investigating a murder and a case of police corruption, but there is so much more: sectarian rivalry, harsh city life, a grieving mother, a revengeful wife, suffering children, and my two favourite gay protagonists, Jas himself and the ever-unstable Stevie. There’s a lot of testosterone on show. Explicit sex abounds, but it is never included for effect. It’s born of need and, sometimes, love. It never repels me. The conversation is in Glasgow dialect. Please don’t let that deter you: this story is powerful. Last pages count, and Some Kind of Love has a perfect ending.

Much of this book by two psychologists covers familiar ground and some may find their explanation for what they found unpersuasive, but get this: When they brought white male undergraduates into the laboratory on a pretext and called them "asshole," Northern subjects laughed it off or ignored it, but Southern ones bristled. Subsequent tests showed that the Southerners had heightened blood levels of stress-related hormones and testosterone, but the Northerners did not. Moving the study of the South’s “culture of violence” to the physiological level was a remarkable achievement, but hardly anyone seems to have noticed.

Errol and Thomas (his teddy bear), are best friends. But Errol starts noticing that Thomas doesn’t seem to enjoy all the things they do together and seems to be sad. Eventually, Thomas admits to Errol that they had always felt like a girl bear and would like to be called Tilly. Errol doesn’t care about the bear’s gender—just that they are best friends. It’s a lovely story about unconditional love and acceptance.