A universal search for meaning: book review of 'I Who Have Never Known Men' by Jacqueline Harpman
- L. G. Jenkins
- 2 days ago
- 3 min read
Dystopian books seem to be making a splash on BookTok and Bookstagram at the moment, along with a lot of discussion around what actually makes a book dystopian. But, one book that has made the rounds on BookTok is Jacqueline's Harpman I Who Have Never Known Men.

Dystopian books usually contains certain dystopian tropes such as rebellion, oppression and regulation, or they offer a social or political commentary through its pages. For example, the Hunger Games series speaks volumes about the widening gap between the rich and poor in our society, or my own Merit-Hunters Series is making comments about the skewed relationship we have with productivity and self-worth.
On picking up I Who Have Never Known Men, I wasn't quite sure what to expect. Would this be another feminist dystopia like The Handmaid's Tale or VOX? Or was it simply a post-apocalyptic survival story from the perspective of a woman who has never known sexual intimacy with a man? The answer was probably a bit of both.
The story
Published in 1995, the narrative follows a young girl, only ever called 'the child', who has lived in a underground cage with thirty-nine other women her entire life. These women all surpass her in age, and have some vague knowledge about 'the before' - life as we know it today. However, they have no memory of how they got there. The cage is manned by male guards, none of whom ever speak or interact with the women, other than to zap them with tasers to keep them in line. One day, an alarm sounds, sending the guards running from the bunker and leaving the women behind, with the cage door open. In just 'eleven minutes', the women have their freedom and the rest of the story follows their quest as they traverse across the strange land above.
Subverting typical dystopian tropes
One thing that struck me was how beautifully written this book is; there were moments where I couldn't help but stop and reflect on Harpman's use of language. For that alone, I'd recommend it. Yet what was also telling is how much this book subverted the tropes of dystopian or post-apocalyptic narratives, which are often externally-focused. The characters are fighting zombies or dealing with an oppressive government. But in this story, everything is dealt with internally as the child tries to make sense of life -- without men, without societal systems and without any memory.
Search for meaning in a hopeless world
Without wanting to give too much away - because you're going to read this book, obviously - it's clear that the women don't find freedom once they escape the bunker. They're still trapped in a strange land, but what Harpman makes clear is that humanity will never loose its deep desire for meaning. We journey with them as they try to understand why they're there and how might this end. The book doesn't offer many answers, but dives deep into what it means to be human. To question. To explore. To venture into the unknown, even when it feels eternally hopeless.
“Man does not simply exist but always decides what his existence will be, what he will become the next moment. By the same token, every human being has the freedom to change at any instant.” ― Viktor Emil Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning
Identity and womanhood
Of course, this book does explore themes of female oppression. The setting of the cage and its constraints is a powerful and perhaps, obvious image in itself, mirroring real-world restrictions that are placed on women both in historical and contemporary societies. However, there are moments that I can't disclose that make me think this isn't all Harpman is trying to say. She's giving her character a sense of humanity beyond gender, beyond societal constraints and beyond its expectations. Without men, systems and any memory of what life was like before, the child allows Harpman to truly expose and reveal personhood, rather than commenting specifically on women's superiority or victimhood.
Also to note, there are some gruesome moments in the book - I'm not talking blood squirting everywhere, but I did feel my body tense at the brutality of what the child is forced to do. Yet, on reflection, even those moments do carry some beauty. There is so much to unpack in this book that I wish I'd studied it at university or A-Level because the imagery, the poignant messaging and the emotive language would provide more than enough material for a killer essay.
I 100% recommend this book to anyone who is well-established with their enjoyment of the dystopian genre and wants something with a gritty premise about an isolated individual trying to find meaning in a hopeless world.