On the evening of August 26, men vanish from the world, including unborn boys. Some feel crushing grief, others relief: abusive husbands, unfortunate ex-partners, employers and stepfathers who harm their daughters seem to have vanished as well. The novel A World Without Men, originally serialized in Spanish by Seix Barral, poses a provocative question in its title. Is this really a path to a gentler world, a society where wolves have been tamed and the threats left behind? Or does the change reveal deeper issues, a new imbalance born from cutting off half of humanity, with consequences that ripple through every facet of life?
The central figure, a heroine named Jane Pearson, confronts a brutal choice: should she risk saving the husband and son she cherishes, or bet on a future that appears safer and more peaceful for women but may never come to pass? Complicating the dilemma, a prominent black lesbian activist, Evangelyne, who had a close college-era bond with Jane, returns with the conviction that she holds the key to guiding the new era. Evangelyne leads a political movement named Pacom and aspires to leadership in the changed landscape.
Sandra Newman, a writer known for crafting dystopian visions, expands the conversation by revisiting questions raised in classic feminist science fiction. The work echoes influences from seminal authors who explored power, gender, and society under pressure. Critics and readers have noted how these narratives turn a mirror on contemporary debates about gender roles, autonomy, and the ethics of utopian thinking. In interviews and essays, the author has addressed matters of gender representation, the limits of essentialism, and the stubborn endurance of human flaws even in speculative futures. As the novel unfolds, it invites comparisons with enduring works that blend political critique with intimate storytelling. (citation: Guardian interview)
accusations of transphobia
The reception to the work has sparked discussions about how gender identity is portrayed. The author makes a controversial choice not to ignore trans people, a topic feminist science fiction has wrestled with since the early days of the genre. The premise suggests that any person with a Y chromosome could be erased, which raises questions about whether trans women are depicted as less than cisgender men. Within the narrative, there is an incident that follows the disappearance event in which a transgender man is subjected to public humiliation during a chaotic moment, highlighting the risks and tensions that flare when social order dissolves. This episode has become a focal point for debates about representation, safety, and the portrayal of violence in crisis scenes. Critics argue that such scenes can reinforce harmful stereotypes, while supporters contend they illuminate the fragility of identity under extreme stress. (citation: The Guardian)
As the story tracks Jane Pearson through the unraveling of her personal dreams, the wider world shifts from an imagined angelic chorus of women to a stark, imperfect reality. The central tension is not merely ethical but existential: what happens when a civilization reorganizes itself around a single demographic? The first upheavals—angelic interpretations versus harsh realities—soon collide with everyday life. A neighborly confrontation, driven by prejudice and fear, reveals biases that persist even in a world where many social structures have radically changed. The relationship arcs, including a teenage love that grows into something more complicated, expose how longing and error persist across any societal model. The critique centers on whether the apparent liberation would truly eradicate wrongs or merely transform them into new forms of control. The novel invites readers to weigh the costs of upheaval against the imagined benefits of a male-less world and asks for a frank reckoning with human nature. Ultimately, the narrative comes back to human resilience, the limits of utopian thinking, and the stubborn, sometimes painful, complexity of social change.