A couple of days ago I finished She's Not There, by Jennifer Finney Boylan. It's a memoir about the author's transition, at about age 40, from James Finney Boylan to Jennifer Finney Boylan. The story itself holds an inherent fascination, perhaps particularly to me because a few years ago a sailor I'd known my whole life as Steve became Stephanie.
There are a couple of features about this book that elevate it from being merely a curiosity piece. The author is an English professor and fiction writer, so the voice, as James and Jenny, is articulate, human, and funny. There is a lot of confidence, social grace, and laughter in James' life -- he's something of a golden boy, it seems -- and Jenny claims these as her birthright, even through the doubt and fear of the gender transition. The second thing that's remarkable about the book is the presence of Richard Russo in it, as a character. Russo is the author's best friend, so he's there as a character in the memoir, and when the author confesses his secret, that he's transgendered and is considering becoming a woman, Russo is unusually articulate, reflective, and honest. That presence helps the book a lot, I think -- we see email exchanges between the author and Russo, and we hear conversations in which Russo challenges James, or confesses difficulty understanding or accepting that "Jenny" is the same person inside as his best friend James. Russo says to the author, "Look, you're acting like this is the most wonderful thing for you, that you're finally getting a freedom you've longed for your whole life. But we liked you the way you were, and we can't help feeling like we are losing someone we loved." The presence of these exchanges in the narrative are important, because even as Jenny acknowledges the pain and difficulty she's causing her friends and family, she is exuberant and relieved at the gift she's giving herself. Russo also adds an afterword, talking about the experience from his perspective. He describes the memoir as a remarkable love story, which it is. James' wife stays with him even as he becomes a she, and she effectively loses her husband and gains something she never chose. Can you imagine? After reading the book, you can begin to imagine a love that powerful, accepting, and gentle.
My mom just called me up, and we were discussing the book (we're in the same book group, and it's this month's selection). My mom kept talking about the author as "he" while I tend to think of her as "she." I think that's because the book opened up in the present tense, and introduces us to the author as a woman, then goes back and retraces her life as a boy and a man who felt trapped in the wrong body.
When the person I know changed genders it was pretty deeply unsettling. You think someone's identity and their gender are inseparable; it's almost impossible to think someone who wants to change their body can be the same person, with the same personality, as the one you've known. I read most of True Selves, a book about the whole phenomenon of transgendered people. It helped me get my head around it a little better. Stephanie recommended Trans-sister Radio as a better book about what it feels like to go through it, but I've not yet read that one.
Our book group read Trans-Sister Radio in the summer and it sparked a lively and thoughtful discussion. It's fiction, but you can tell it's been well-researched. I didn't always find the characters believable, but the tale and the transformation from man to woman was fascinating anyway. It deals a lot with the reactions of the small Vermont town, how people come to terms with it, esp with the schoolteacher who continues her relationship with her college-professor boyfriend when he becomes a she.
Posted by: Amy | September 30, 2004 at 09:06 PM