There can’t be many novels about hermaphrodites, but I know of at least two great ones (the other is Annabel by Kathleen Winter). This Pulitzer Prize winner by Jeffrey Eugenides is one of the best novels I’ve read in the last decade or so. It’s a sprawling Greek family epic (reminiscent of the best sections of Corelli’s Mandolin) told from the perspective of Callie/Cal Stephanides, a hermaphrodite trying to figure out her/his place in the world, beginning as a teenager in 1970s Detroit.

Cal traces his family history back to 1920s Greece and Turkey, where an incident of incest may have increased the genetic likelihood of his intersex condition. You will be gripped from the exquisite first sentence onwards: “I was born twice: first, as a baby girl, on a remarkably smogless Detroit day in January of 1960; and then again, as a teenage boy, in an emergency room near Petoskey, Michigan, in August of 1974.”

Inicié el libro pensando que sería algo así como Trainspotting, no sé por qué. Mal inicio que no presagiaba nada bueno. Sin embargo, me gustó la parte turca de la historia, menos la del desembarco americano, la vida en América me pareció meramente interesante y me defraudó la última parte, esa que esperaba ansiosamente desde el principio, desde que leí este párrafo:n  

“Yo poseo un cerebro masculino. Pero me educaron en sentido femenino. Si hubiera que concebir un experimento para evaluar las respectivas influencias de la naturaleza y la educación, no podría encontrarse nada mejor que mi vida.”

nNo me gustó la solución. Siempre he mantenido que las novelas están más para preguntar que para responder, pero si aun así alguien se aventura a dar su opinión no me parece correcta la indefinición. Eugenides resume su postura en una sola frase a cien páginas del final con “una nueva y extraña posibilidad” que aleja la cuestión de determinismos sociales o genéticos: el libre albedrío. Una tercera vía que el propio autor califica de debilitada, indefinida y desdibujada. Porque, vamos a ver, ¿qué coño es el libre albedrío?

Books such as this, should be compulsory school reading in this increasing intolerant, unempathetic society of ours. When one listens to right-wing, conservative commentators on ‘shows’ like Fox News, or Sky News in Australia (go on, you know you want to.......), one would think LGBTQ+ issues have the future of our planet in their hands. When millions are starving, hundreds of thousands at war, the planet on the boil – a trans swimmer trying to get into the Olympic team, or teaching kids at school about trans and intersex issues spells the end of time, as we know it.

This book puts us into the skin, the mind and body of an hermaphrodite, intersex kid called Calliope. Calliope is raised as a girl, has XY sex chromosomes, but her testes have not descended, and her clitoris is larger than ‘usual’.

The reason I suggest ‘intolerants’ should read this is, to help them understand how difficult it is for people (young people) to deal with such issues. If this five hundred plus page story does not do that – then there is no hope.

But it is far more than just a book on ‘trans’ people – it is a sweeping family saga covering three generations from the war-torn city of Smyrna in Eastern Turkey to Detroit in the USA. It is wonderful historical fiction, covering the Greece/Turkey conflict - as old as the ages, immigrants and their challenges and life in an industrial city like Detroit.

Eugenides writes with no great fanfare, he describes the complexities of life and relationships with ease. He throws in comedic moment - because, let's face it, life can be funny. Very funny. But, I feel he also knows he is telling us a very important story. He does that indeed.

What a book, what an epic, what an author. One of my favourites - I need to construct my all-time top ten in 2024. This will be in it to be sure.

5 Stars

New to the world of Jeffrey Eugenides, I turned to this book that was recently recommended to me. Its premise seemed not only intriguing, but an essential topic in this day and age of rebranding and gender fluidity. A story that takes the reader on an adventure like no other, I was hooked from the opening pages until I turned to pen this review. Calliope Helen Stephanides was born twice, once in 1960 and again in 1974. Such a bold statement to open the novel, though one that will make sense at a later point. After some housekeeping introductory narrative, Eugenides takes the story back to 1921, in what might now be called Turkey. There, Desdemona Stephanides is growing up as the country is at war. She idolizes her brother, Lefty, who is also a distant cousin by some odd coincidence. As the fighting heats up, they flee the country for America, where a distant cousin awaits them. After fudging the truth a little, both Desdemona and Lefty made it aboard a ship. They pretend not to know one another and end up falling in love and marrying. They try to use their long bloodlines to dispel some of the less than savoury aspects of this. When they arrive in America, they are shuttled off to Detroit, where the story gets richer as they live with family who have secrets of their own. Married in the eyes of the law, Desdemona and Lefty embrace the American way, without losing their Greek heritage. Eugenides spins quite the tale from there, as they have children—genetic abnormality-free—an try to provide as best they can. As the story progresses, their offspring begin to lay roots of their own, with new and exciting twists to the genetic situation. By 1960, young Calliope Stephanides is born and the oddity of her birth is missed by many. Calliope adopts the name Callie and progresses through life as a typical girl of the time, doing everything that is expected of her, at least until her early teens, when everyone around her seems to be changing. Callie cannot understand, yet there is a feeling of difference that exceeds being a late bloomer. Callie has her own life adventures, which eventually leads to a trip to the doctor. This begins even more appointments, as far away as NYC. There, it is discovered that Callie was born a hermaphrodite, with genetically male leanings. A syndrome passed along from generation to generation, Callie no longer simply feels like an outsider, but a complete stranger. Social and biological expectations rear up and the family must decide how to cope and what ought to be done. Callie seems ready to take the lead, but feels a need to ostracize from the others, if only to protect them. As the story reaches its climax, Eugenides takes Callie through 1970s America and the place gender and sexuality play in shaping the young person. With flash forwards throughout of “Cal”, an established career civil servant for the US Government in Europe, the reader can see how the protagonist landed in their feet, though there is much to tell before that point. A powerful book at every turn of the page, Jeffrey Eugenides packs so much into this piece. Recommended to those who are open-minded enough to read and enjoy discussion of the roles sex and gender have on society, as well as the reader who wants something impactful and told in a multi-generational format.

I knew only what the dust jacket covered offered when I began this book, but was so enthralled that I could not put it down. I have chosen to remain very vague in the summary section above, as it is the numerous reveals that occur there that make the story for me. Jeffrey Eugenides tells a story of a Greek family’s setting up roots in America, as they struggle to come to terms with the culture shock. Woven into the piece is the foreboding—though unknown to them—of the coming birth of Calliope, who symbolizes all the choices that were made over the decades. The story is so rich and uses a number of key characters that I cannot automatically turn to a single protagonist. The brilliance of the storytelling brought each story to light and tied things together in a masterful manner. Pushing the norms of the time (and now), Eugenides tells a tale that needs to be explored, if only to take the veiled secrecy from around it. There is so much within the pages of this book that tackles so many issues, I cannot hone in on one that is the most important. The dedicated reader will find a theme all their own and stick to it, dazzled throughout as Eugenides paints many an image. The writing was smooth and flowed effortlessly as the story spun in many directions. Eugenides seeks to shock, then lulls the reader into a degree of comfort by not scandalising things. I cannot say enough about this book and hope others I know who have not taken the time to read this do so, if only to challenge their notions of right and wrong, normal and outlandish, or expected and shocking. I know I will be back for more of Eugenides’ books, when time permits.

Kudos, Mr. Eugenides, for such a sobering tale. I cannot even begin to thank you for opening my eyes and mind to so very much!

Love/hate the review? An ever-growing collection of others appears at:
http://pecheyponderings.wordpress.com/

A Book for All Seasons, a different sort of Book Challenge: https://www.goodreads.com/group/show/...

This is a wonderful story full of colorful, involving characters. The author takes us through a troubled, racially conflicted city of Detroit, almost making it a character.

The city's race riots are memorably depicted.

There is much to digest, especially as we watch Cal struggle with her/his own identity.

A truly captivating story worthy of all its' acclaim.

Pulitzer Prize 2003. Excellent! Interesting, humorous, poignant - it had me literally from the first page and I LOVE when a story grabs me like that! This is one of those books I kept hearing about and never picked up. It was published when I was going back to school (so I was too busy), then I saw it at yard sales, airports, and I kept thinking I need to read that. But I also worried about the length (500+), the unusual sexual content, etc. Finally, my sister recommended it and I thought, all right, I need to see what this is all about. So glad I did!

It's essentially a coming-of-age story. But there's so much more. I loved all the Greek family history. There were tragic bits, but they were offset by sarcasm and humor.

I suppose some readers may be turned off by the explicit sexual identity aspect, but it was handled so well, I thought it was interesting and touching. To me, if there was something that may not work for some people, it would be the very heavy-handed narration by the main character. As he's telling his story, he is speaking to you, the reader, very directly. Almost in a Holden Caulfield manner. One line says, "reader, you may be wondering what I did with Desdemona, well, I purposely left her out of the story for a while...." - see? I often find that jarring in movies and novels, but again, it worked so well in this kind of set up. I loved it. And it made the whole story sound real. As a matter of fact, Eugenides shares a lot of similarities with the main character and has admitted that much of it is autobiographical. This story will stay with me for a long time.

I've read quite a few reviews of this book saying that it was patchy in places, or it bogged down in the historical parts, the character not being believable in others, etc.

I have not read the novel, so perhaps this is true. As an audiobook however, it was magnificent. The story was compelling, the history inseparable from the development of Calliope, and the voice of the reader - Kristoffer Tabori - was genius. His character variations made an interesting concept into a fascinating narrative of a little girl who was born different.

Middlesex elbows its way into my top 5 favorite listens with her awkward limbs sticking out to both sides like a boy's, hips swaying like a girl's.

ce carte!


*dorind în secret și restul prozei lui Eugenides, iubind toate referințele făcute la cultura/mitologia greacă, la faptele politice din America și Turcia (cum se repetă istoria la scară mare)
și imaginându-mi că 30 de pagini din final nu au existat, era mai bine fără ele.

Dar Middlesex e despre mult mai mult de atât, e despre mai toate experiențele (căutarii) identității de gen, despre incest, homosexualitate, transexualitate și despre limita dintre gândirea tradițională și genetică.

Middlesex, 2002, Jeffrey Eugenides

Jeffrey Kent Eugenides (born March 8, 1960) is an American novelist, and short story writer. He has written numerous short stories and essays, as well as three novels: The Virgin Suicides (1993), Middlesex (2002), and The Marriage Plot (2011).

Middlesex is a Pulitzer Prize-winning novel by Jeffrey Eugenides, first published in 2002. The book is a bestseller, with more than four million copies sold since its publication. Its characters and events are loosely based on aspects of Eugenides' life and observations of his Greek heritage.

Eugenides worked on Middlesex for nine years. He started writing during his short-term residence at the MacDowell Colony in New Hampshire, United States, and finished the novel in Berlin, Germany; he had accepted a grant from the German Academic Exchange Service in 1999.

Eugenides spent the first few years trying to establish the narrative voice for his novel.

"I was born twice: first, as a baby girl, on a remarkably smogless Detroit day of January 1960; and then again, as a teenage boy, in an emergency room near Petoskey, Michigan, in August of l974. . . My birth certificate lists my name as Calliope Helen Stephanides. My most recent driver's license...records my first name simply as Cal."

تاریخ نخستین خوانش: روز بیست و سوم ماه آوریل سال 2012 میلادی

عنوان: میدل سکس؛ نوشته جفری اوژنیدس؛ مترجم نوشین ریشهری؛ مشخصات نشر تهران، دانژه، 1389، در 632ص، شابک 9786005070330، موضوع: داستانهای نویسندگان امریکایی - سده 21م

تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 14/05/1399هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی

This book literally changed my life.

Years ago I bought a Dean Koontz book for a long plane ride and hated it, because Dean Koontz sucks. So I bought Middlesex at a layover, thinking the Pulitzer badge might mean it was better than Dean Koontz. And it was this majestic, wonderful thing and I loved it passionately. And I said to myself, you know what? I'm just not going to read any more shitty books. And I never did.

Best generation-spanning hermaphrodite epic ever.

"When I told my life story to Dr. Luce, the place where he invariably got interested was when I came to Clementine Stark. Luce didn't care about criminally smitten grandparents or silkworm boxes or serenading clarinets. To a certain extent, I understand. I even agree."
I agree too. This quote comes from page 263 and is really where the story picks up and gets into the subject the book promises--Cal's life as a hermaphrodite. Honestly, while the first 263 pages were interesting and had some important developing points, it could have been distilled a great deal. Eugenides is a great, fluid writer--very witty. But dang, he's wordy. I guess after reading several books by Cormac McCarthy I'm bound to get distracted by verbosity. I'm not saying I don't like long--my favorite book is The Brothers Karamazov--I just don't like all the superfluous words.
Still, the book is compelling so far. I'm not as driven to read it as I think I should be, but I don't find myself putting it down after every paragraph to check my email either.

UPDATE: I have finished the book. In the end, I felt like it didn't deliver. I see a lot of connections Eugendides is making about identity, but they didn't seem developed. In fact, there were many symbols throughout the book that were very clever but ultimately seemed to be only that--a device used to show cleverness and not to really further the plot. Another problem I had with the book was the fact that Eugenides tells too much about his characters and yet I still feel like it is underdeveloped. For example, he has great characters in mind and some great episodes to show how they feel, but then he simply runs through the story and then tells you how the character felt--I wanted to feel how the characters felt.
I enjoyed two things about the book. First, the Forrest Gump-like trek through American history. There are really some fascinating episodes in this book. And Eugenides does an excellent job ellaborating on them. Sometimes I felt like he should have written an essay on American history rather than this novel. The second thing I enjoyed was Eugenides sly, clever writing. I know that above I said that some things seemed to be there just to showcase the author's wit, but some of those things were really clever and enjoyable. The writing kind of reminded me of Jim Carrey's acting: at moments it was brilliant, hysterical, and spot on; but at other moments it was just too much, needed to be toned down, better controlled.
As I said, this book didn't deliver for me. I liked it because of its promise. The idea is fascinating. However, as talented as Mr. Eugenides is, a little more control would be nice.

This isn’t so much a review as an embarrassing story. I gave the book four stars for a reason. The writing is beautiful. I would recommend it. Now onwards to my shame.

So Brooke and I were standing in line to meet Eugenides. Please understand it was a really long line after a similarly long day at work. We passed the time chitchatting about this and that at our workplace and life in general. By the time the organizer offered post-its* to our segment of the line, we were getting silly and joked about all the crazy names and titles you could request. Instead of sticking to your name, you could put down “Boo-Bear” or “Sunshine Sally”. Just imagine: you could have an autographed book with some outrageous inscription like “To the best unicorn, Jeffrey Eugenides”.

Throughout the course of the night, I had been trying to persuade Brooke to visit a bookstore I thought she would enjoy. She was reluctant for unknown reasons. Under the influence of a bizarre mixture of exasperation, exhaustion, and silliness, I proposed a bet. I had already written my plain-ole name on the post-it. If she promised to accompany me to an event at the bookstore, I would add “baby” under my name. She quickly agreed.

As we waited thereafter, I began to second guess the stunt. But before I could request a new post-it, the line betrayed me. While it had moved at a glacial pace initially, now it swept me forward.

When I handed Eugenides my book, he stared at the post-it for a second and then looked up at us. He asked, “Who is Cassy Baby? Is that you?” I was mortified. Utterly mortified. I tried to quickly explain the promised bookstore visit, but I think in actuality I just pointed at Brooke and mumbled something like, “She made me.”

Looking back, the whole episode could be construed as a power struggle. Could a literary nobody force a Pulitzer Prize winner to write something stupid? If he refused, he might seem like a jerk. His best option was probably to play along and, bless his heart, he did. Perhaps he thought it was amusing. I doubt it. So, here it is:

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Who was the real winner out of this mess? Brooke. Allow me to list the ways. (1) She was witness to my shame. (2) She did visit the bookstore – although she ditched for me the promised event and went on her own later. (3) As I suspected she would, she became a fan of said bookstore. (4) And this is the cherry on the top: Eugenides inscribed her book to “Brooke Baby”.
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*If you want your book personalized, the host will generally hand out post-its. You write your name on the post-it and place it on the title page where the author will sign. This way the author doesn’t struggle to spell your name correctly.