For many men of various sexual inclinations, the Second World War offered an unprecedented release from the constraints of civilian life. However, when they returned home they had to face the harsh realities of a restrictive society. Men Without Maps continues the story of these men, whom John Ibson first gave voice to in The Mourning After. Here he uncovers the experiences of men after World War II who had same-sex desires but few, if any, direct, affirmative models of how to build identities and relationships. Though heterosexual men had plenty of cultural maps--provided by their parents, social institutions, and nearly every engine of popular culture--in the years before Pride parades, social organizations for queer persons, or publications devoted to them, gay men lacked such guides. In his survey of the years from shortly before the war up to the gay rights movement of the late 1960s and early '70s, Ibson considers male couples, who balanced domestic contentment with exterior repression, as well as single men, whose solitary lives illuminate unexplored aspects of the queer experience. Men Without Maps shows how, in spite of the obstacles they faced, midcentury gay men found ways to assemble their lives and senses of self at a time of limited social acceptance.

On the battlefields of World War II, with their fellow soldiers as the only shield between life and death, a generation of American men found themselves connecting with each other in new and profound ways. Back home after the war, however, these intimacies faced both scorn and vicious homophobia. The Mourning After makes sense of this cruel irony, telling the story of the unmeasured toll exacted upon generations of male friendships. John Ibson draws evidence from the contrasting views of male closeness depicted in WWII-era fiction by Gore Vidal and John Horne Burns, as well as from such wide-ranging sources as psychiatry texts, child development books, the memoirs of veterans' children, and a slew of vernacular snapshots of happy male couples. In this sweeping reinterpretation of the postwar years, Ibson argues that a prolonged mourning for tenderness lost lay at the core of midcentury American masculinity, leaving far too many men with an unspoken ache that continued long after the fighting stopped, forever damaging their relationships with their wives, their children, and each other.

For many men of various sexual inclinations, the Second World War offered an unprecedented release from the constraints of civilian life. However, when they returned home they had to face the harsh realities of a restrictive society. Men Without Maps continues the story of these men, whom John Ibson first gave voice to in The Mourning After. Here he uncovers the experiences of men after World War II who had same-sex desires but few, if any, direct, affirmative models of how to build identities and relationships. Though heterosexual men had plenty of cultural maps--provided by their parents, social institutions, and nearly every engine of popular culture--in the years before Pride parades, social organizations for queer persons, or publications devoted to them, gay men lacked such guides. In his survey of the years from shortly before the war up to the gay rights movement of the late 1960s and early '70s, Ibson considers male couples, who balanced domestic contentment with exterior repression, as well as single men, whose solitary lives illuminate unexplored aspects of the queer experience. Men Without Maps shows how, in spite of the obstacles they faced, midcentury gay men found ways to assemble their lives and senses of self at a time of limited social acceptance.

There was a time in America when two men pictured with their arms wrapped around each other, or perhaps holding hands, weren't necessarily seen as sexually involved - a time when such gestures could be seen simply as those of intimate friendship rather than homoeroticism. Such is the time John Ibson evokes in "Picturing Men", a striking visual record of changes in attitudes about relationships between gentlemen, soldiers, cowboys, students, lumberjacks, sailors, and practical jokers. Spanning from 1850 to 1950, the 142 everyday photographs that richly illustrate "Picturing Men" radiate playfulness, humor, and warmth. They portray a lost world for American men: a time when their relationships with each other were more intimate than they commonly are today, regardless of sexual orientation. "Picturing Men" starkly contrasts the calm affection displayed in earlier photographs with the absence of intimacy in photos from the mid-1950s on. In doing so, this lively, accessible book makes a significant contribution to American history and cultural studies, gender studies, and the history of photography.