Hung: A Meditation on the Measure of Black Men in America (Hardcover)

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Key Phrases: tap room, good fences, supermasculine menial, Black Book, New York, South Beach (more...)

Editorial Reviews

From Publishers Weekly

"For a lot of men, how you hang has a lot to do with who you hang with, where you hang, and sometimes, how long you hang once you get there," writes Poulson-Bryant, founding editor of Vibe and co-author of What's your Hi-Fi IQ?, in his new book, a libidinous hybrid of cultural commentary and personal anecdotes. The pervasive belief that African American men are prodigiously endowed presents a conundrum for the contemporary black male, who is simultaneously drawn to- and repelled by- this notion. In the book's opening pages, Poulson-Bryant admits that, as an African American man, he should be "hung like a horse," but he's not, nor does he want to be. "I think of black-man dick and I think that once upon a time we were hung from trees for being, well, hung." Today, Poulson-Bryant says, black men risk being viewed as little more than an engorged sex organ. Take "Simon" for example, a successful athlete who refuses to take showers at the gym and changes clothes with a towel wrapped around him, because he would rather be a star on the basketball court than in the locker room. For those seeking an academic approach, Poulson-Bryant's "meditation" on the "measure of black men in America" may not measure-up, as much of the research is internet-based or culled from anecdotal narratives provided by largely unnamed acquaintances. Still, Poulson-Bryant's assertion that black men "need to start thinking like the Big Swinging Dicks on Wall Street instead of acting like the Big Swinging Dicks of the public's fascination" has the kind of thrust and vigor necessarily to stimulate dialogue on this topic.
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

From The Washington Post

Mr. Peter, meet Mr. Johnson.

In the world of pop culture writer Scott Poulson-Bryant, these two have a lot to discuss. For starters, "peter," a white nickname for the penis, might confess that he feels inferior to his black counterpart, with its legendary prowess. And "johnson," the classic moniker of choice for the African American member, may admit to coveting a bit more of the historic institutional, economic and political power that usually accompanies Mr. Peter. Fortunately, Poulson-Bryant stops short of imagining a conversation between the two.

In "Hung," his examination of the mythology of black male sexuality, Poulson-Bryant skirts the edge of voyeurism but also fails to answer "the unspoken question that gets asked all the time." Namely, why has the one-dimensional perception of the American black man persisted? Why is the black man so often thought of as a well-endowed, sexual beast who is also an intellectual midget?

The hoary stereotype of the black man as a simple-minded, virile sexual predator has stalked the pages of everything from The Clansman, the basis for the movie "The Birth of a Nation," to Richard Wright's Native Son to Toni Morrison's Sula. But such historic literary examples are in short supply (as it were) in Hung. Poulson-Bryant doesn't mention John Cleland's Fanny Hill: Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure, but that 18th-century novel caused a sensation when it was published in America in 1966, in no small part because of the passages describing Fanny's encounter in pre-Revolutionary New England with a young black man called "Good-natured Dick." In Cleland's fevered treatment, the randy heroine muses, upon first getting a look at the black man's equipment: "Nature . . . had done so much for him in those parts, that she perhaps held herself acquitted in doing so little for his head."

In fairness, perhaps there is no clear-cut answer to the myth's staying power -- beyond the obvious, which Poulson-Bryant succinctly identifies early on: "Essentially, [the penis] is a signifier -- of power, of prominence, of strength. So many men like to think that our primary attention to . . . size is about impressing women . . . about succeeding as a man in the reflective mirror of a woman's or a partner's eyes. But it isn't. It's a measuring stick of self-worth, of capabilities and fallibilities, of winning and losing." As Poulson-Bryant sees it, some whites have had a pathological need to view black men as animalistic sexual aggressors, while black men themselves have come to accept and even to some degree welcome this image as their one true source of power. But despite a keen eye for the hypocrisies, contradictions and flat-out exaggerations that frame most discussions of this touchy subject, Poulson-Bryant manages to fall short in the evidence department. He makes only glancing reference to Alfred Kinsey's famous studies of sexual behavior and no mention of the academic studies at major universities since the mid-20th century.

On the other hand, this does not purport to be a scholarly work, though the author does too often resort to annoying lit-crit jargon. Rather, it is a breezy swirl through one young black man's personal experience at the intersection of race, sexuality and public perceptions of both. Poulson-Bryant is an amiable, self-effacing host who unflinchingly admits to being modestly endowed and to the self-consciousness this has caused him as a black man. "I should be hung like a horse," he writes. "I should be the cock of the locker-room walk, singing and swinging and getting merry like every day is, for hung brothers, Christmas. But I'm not."

Once he's dispensed with the nitty-gritty of his own business, he leads us through the social landscape of those whose identities and even livelihoods (in the case of the porn star Lexington Steele) are bound up in the image of the Big, Black Stud. We begin and end with a letter from Poulson-Bryant to Emmett Till, the black teenager killed during the 1950s in Jim Crow Mississippi for allegedly whistling at a white woman. And we meet several of the author's male and female friends, who expound in colorful language on the "Big Phallacy." Poulson-Bryant, a former Vibe editor, shows a genuine appreciation for the complexity of his subject in all its facets, including its absurdities. One might quibble with some of his oversights -- such as recent technological advancements, including silicon implants, that now make it possible for just about anyone to be well-endowed -- but "Hung" at least gets the subject out in the open.

Reviewed by Amy Alexander
Copyright 2006, The Washington Post. All Rights Reserved.

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Product Details

• Hardcover: 224 pages
• Publisher: Doubleday (October 25, 2005)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 0385510020
• ISBN-13: 978-0385510028
• Product Dimensions: 9.3 x 5.7 x 0.9 inches
• Shipping Weight: 14.1 ounces
• Average Customer Review: 3.7 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (13 customer reviews)
• Amazon.com Sales Rank: #611,179 in Books (See Bestsellers in Books)

Customer Reviews

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

11 of 12 people found the following review helpful:

4.0 out of 5 stars An Intellectually Stimulating Treatise on African American Men and Their Auras, October 19, 2006

By	Grady Harp (Los Angeles, CA United States) - See all my reviews (TOP 10 REVIEWER)    (REAL NAME)

This review is from: Hung: A Meditation on the Measure of Black Men in America (Paperback)

Scott Poulson-Bryant is a bright young artist with heady credentials and a true gift for creative thinking and well-crafted writing skills. He joins the growing ranks of young African American strong writers such as E.L. Ayala, E. Lynn Harris, Keith Boykin, J.L. King, Caesar Brunswick, Christopher David, and Stanley Bennett Clay who not only address issues heretofore considered taboo in the Black community, but succeed not only as brave new voices but also as gifted, important writers.

HUNG: A MEDITATION ON THE MEASURE OF BLACK MEN IN AMERICA starts out with a terrific cover, promises revelation of secrets everyone wants to know, addresses his reader with pertinent facts, and then progresses to relax and offer a rather personalized memoir of his experiences as a black man in America, a man who knows the myths and the realities about phallic secrets, and shares his own insights as well as those of gentlemanly unnamed confidents from whom he gathers his facts.

Along the way Poulson-Bryant not only discusses phallus size, but he also explores the mystique of black men who model for books (Mapplethorpe is a frequent reference point), the porn industry, the world of athletes (yes, naming names), the rap world, and the executive world. But he doesn't limit his meditation to experiences interviewing men: Poulson-Bryant wisely includes women in his foray of questioning the importance of size as a feature of desirability vs. myth vs. disadvantage. It is a well-rounded book and one that never lets the interest lag.

But what one comes away with from this book is an appreciation of the exceptional style of writing of Scott Poulson-Bryant. He is a writer of charm, of humor, of wit, and of intelligence. This reader would like to see how he performs in the field of fiction: in reportage he is up there with the best! Grady Harp, October 06

16 of 19 people found the following review helpful:

4.0 out of 5 stars (RAW Rating: 3.5) - The Phallic Fixation, December 30, 2005

By	The RAWSISTAZ Reviewers (RAWSISTAZ.com and BlackBookReviews.net) - See all my reviews

Is it a myth that Black men are more hung than White men? Do White men possess "penis envy" because of what is purported to be a myth? In the grand scheme of things, does size really matter? And if it does, whom does it matter to most? Author Scott Poulson-Bryant discusses these and other questions concerning Black male sexuality in HUNG: A Meditation on the Measure of Black Men in America. Amusing and sometimes chatty, this book delves heavily into the discussion about why people are so caught up in the size of the male penis. Men, White and Black alike, sometimes subconsciously use the penis size as a measuring point for their own sexuality. White men, the author reports, sometimes develop an envious nature when it comes to Black men because of their fixation on the "hungature" a Black man has. He traces this back to the slavery era when Black men were hung because of the perceived sexual threat to White women as White men saw it.

Some Black men, to a certain degree, use penis size to measure their own success. From the childhood games that little boys play to the locker rooms they share as adults, Black men are checking each other out to see how they measure up. And yes, men do check each other out. Mr. Poulson-Bryant even relates a humorous story where a Black male didn't get any respect until his comrades discovered he was well endowed. The author also covers how women relate to this issue as well. Surprisingly enough, this matter also causes quite a stir in the gay community.

The author provides an entertaining as well as interesting dialogue on the fixation America seems to have on phallic size. He provides this discussion through engaging accounts of his true-life experiences and those of people he has interviewed. He relates many stories about penis size as well as the idiosyncrasies encountered by various races and the stereotypical presumptions shared in the entertainment industry because of it. Unfortunately, it is nearly all stories. There is just a smidgen of history on the subject as he covers a multitude of areas where this discussion has reared its head (pun intended). His sources are almost all friends or acquaintances and a few celebrities, some of whom are gay and many of whom have been given other names to protect their identity. At times I wondered if this was really about the Black man's legendary member size or Scott Poulson-Bryant. Whatever the intent, this discourse, I'm sure, will inspire some very interesting debates on the subject.

Reviewed by Brenda M. Lisbon
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7 of 8 people found the following review helpful:

3.0 out of 5 stars Sell the Sizzle, Not the Steak!, January 2, 2007

By	Peter Bradford - See all my reviews

This review is from: Hung: A Meditation on the Measure of Black Men in America (Paperback)

In the 1960s, before the boom of hard-core pornography, there was a big market for soft-core. Sell The Sizzle, Not The Steak! was the mantra of soft-core. HUNG is all sizzle and no steak. The author is a very talented writer, but he seems to be gagging on his own politics. In the world of Scott Poulson-Bryant, if you don't like black men you are a racist. If you do like black men you are a racist (or at best an eracist) since you only like them because they are black. And that damned if you do, damned if you don't way of thinking seems to permeate much of his writing. He even delves into what I call the Politics of Perception: if a black man takes photographs of black men, it's art. If a white man takes photographs of black men, it's exploitation (or as the author puts it, a cultural violation). It's all about the black and the white. Grey does not exist in the world of Scott Poulson-Bryant, but I guess that is life on the Color Line.