Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides

I wrote my undergradate dissertation on this novel because I love it.

It also turned out to be very topical as this year transgender is definitely ‘having a moment’ (although I dislike the way transgender has been treated like a trend rather than something real people actually live through).

Middlesex was written in 2002, a good decade or so before this sudden cultural interest in everything trans, and it is also more specifically about an intersex individual: Calliope Stephanides. The novel begins with Cal, a forty-something man living in Berlin, and he narrates his life story, starting with his grandparents and their migration from Greece to America, his parents upbringing, followed by the first fourteen years of his life as a girl before his transition. The novel is interspersed with details of Cal’s present life in Berlin and his reflections on his unusual teenage years. It is a complex exploration of identity, mainly gender identity but also cultural and personal identity too.

(N.B. In the process of writing my dissertation, I learnt that one of the most important things is not to generalise about transgender experience – which itself is an umbrella term for many different people – and so I hope that I don’t fall into the trap of doing so in this post. I also don’t want to suggest that all intersex people would identify as trans, as I know there are many who would not, but I aim to talk about the novel in the context of speaking about gender and the way society constructs and perceives gender.)

A lot of the critical material written on this novel argues that it does not push societal boundaries far enough – it is too constrained by gender binaries. I think that this is certainly true to an extent but that it is perhaps unfairly harsh to condemn this novel as being un-progressive. I think that it does begin to destabilise the way we think about gender and to expose the rigid binaries which are unconsciously part of society.

Calliope is raised as a girl and it is not until she hits puberty that she realises that she ‘is not a girl like other girls’. Before her transition to become Cal, Callie is taken by her parents to a gender identity clinic where she is encouraged to undertake surgical and hormonal treatment in order to appear a ‘normal’ girl. Callie chooses to reject this option and runs away from her family, on a journey to San Francisco. On the way, Callie sheds her feminine identity and takes on a masculine one. For me, this transition really highlights the way that people construct their gender, normatively or otherwise. Much of gender attribution is based on external appearance and a set of characteristics or mannerisms that we consider either ‘masculine’ or ‘feminine’ – when we meet people we automatically assess their appearance and tend to decide one way or the other which gender they are, yet most characteristics are not exclusively present in only one gender. For instance a strong jawline and short hair are stereotypically masculine but they do not ‘qualify’ a person as male. By showing the way that Cal changes his appearance to forge his new identity and make it recognisable to those he interacts with undermines the idea that gender is based on sexual anatomy – gender attributions in day to day life have little to do with what’s underneath people’s clothes.

This section of the novel also attempts to create relatable experiences that anyone regardless of gender could empathise with. While I understand that this has the potential to be very reductive – everyone’s experiences are not the same – I think the intentions behind this are commendable. The experience of adolescence and the journey to adulthood are things almost everyone can relate to and they illustrate how Cal is just an ordinary person like everyone else. Of course, Cal is not just an ‘ordinary guy’ but I think this process of trying to empathise with and understand someone who is different from yourself is strongly aided by being able to recognise similarities. Change is a process of acceptance and a change in societal opinion is a gradual one. This is a simplistic approach but one that I think should not be dismissed.

While it would be silly to say that Cal’s intersex identity does not define his character, I believe that it does not completely dominate the story. The novel is so much more than a story about a non-normatively gendered character and I think this is what makes it such a great novel, worthy of the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction it won in 2003. It spans three generations of a Greek-American family and is a complex coming-of age epic. It is funny, and its anecdotal style, that harks back to an oral-tradition of story-telling, is inventive and a pleasure to read. The unusual narration – both first person but also sometimes omniscient, observing events the protagonist could not possibly have witnessed – mean it has a unique feel that I don’t think I have ever read before. The huge scope of the novel could have been too much of an undertaking but it is very well constructed, the non-chronological narration is expertly crafted and themes and characters are deftly woven into the story.

On its cover, The New York Times credits Middlesex for being “expansive and radiantly generous…a colossal act of curiosity, of imagination and of love”, something I wholeheartedly agree with. It’s one of my favourites 🙂

Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

I enjoyed this book because it challenged me to think about things that I don’t usually think about very much: namely, race. I think the most important thing that Americanah showed me is the significance of white privilege and the way that, in Western society, we now tend to push race out of the picture and pretend that racism, and specifically institutionalised racism, doesn’t exist any more. While I knew that white privilege existed and that, in some abstract kind of way, it applied to me, this novel made me realise that the very fact that I rarely think about race, in terms of my own skin colour, symbolises my privilege. I certainly would never consider myself as ‘privileged’ but this is a different kind of privilege that is not really to do with wealth or lifestyle but with opportunity and social judgement.

The novel mainly focusses on America but it made me think of an article that I read recently about British politicians in parliament (http://www.theguardian.com/politics/2015/may/08/record-numbers-female-minority-ethnic-mps-commons). After the general election I was pleased to see that the number of women in parliament has increased to 29% – certainly a way to go, but definitely an improvement! However scrolling further down the article, I was shocked to see the statistic for non-white politicians. The claim of ‘record numbers’ seems like a joke when faced with the fact that only 6.6% of politicians are non-white and I think this says a lot about white privilege. I am strongly in support of gender equality but the ethnicity statistics really put things in perspective (the number of privately educated MPs is a whole other kettle of fish!) It is ridiculous that basically only white, and largely male, people are supposed to represent the variety and diversity of our population.

I have digressed! But I think it is telling that the novel provokes thought on race in real terms. Americanah made me think about the felt consequences of racism in my own country, where ordinarily I think in a lot of cases, it is conveniently brushed under the carpet. I think the novel also showed the complexities and idiosyncrasies of identity and experience, especially in the section about Obama’s run for, and subsequent election, as President and the differences Ifemelu notices when she returns to Nigeria after her time in America. The extensive geographical span of the novel brilliantly captures cultural differences and perceptions between the different continents. I enjoyed the gentle critique of the liberal, intellectual circle that Ifemelu encounters during her relationship with Blaine and their sometimes valid but often naive viewpoints, as well as the portrayal of the attitudes and experiences of the ‘non-American blacks’ whom Ifemelu observes in her blog. .

The novel is also a love story and a good one at that. (POTENTIAL SPOILER coming up) However I was just marginally disappointed with the ending, as I felt it was in some ways a bit too predictable. I’m usually a sucker for a happy ending but this time, although it is still left with a hint of ambiguity, it felt a little forced.

Apart from this, I really loved this novel and would thoroughly recommend! I am looking forward to reading Adichie’s other novels.

As a side note, I think Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie is awesome and you should definitely look her up if you don’t know who she is. See below:

http://www.theguardian.com/books/2015/may/11/chimamanda-ngozi-adichie-fear-causing-offence-a-fetish

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3uNcvtjT8Pk