Ratings134
Average rating4
Reese almost had it all: a loving relationship with Amy, an apartment in New York City, a job she didn't hate. She had scraped together what previous generations of trans women could only dream of: a life of mundane, bourgeois comforts. The only thing missing was a child. But then her girlfriend, Amy, detransitioned and became Ames, and everything fell apart. Now Reese is caught in a self-destructive pattern: avoiding her loneliness by sleeping with married men.
Ames isn't happy either. He thought detransitioning to live as a man would make life easier, but that decision cost him his relationship with Reese—and losing her meant losing his only family. Even though their romance is over, he longs to find a way back to her. When Ames's boss and lover, Katrina, reveals that she's pregnant with his baby—and that she's not sure whether she wants to keep it—Ames wonders if this is the chance he's been waiting for. Could the three of them form some kind of unconventional family—and raise the baby together?
This provocative debut is about what happens at the emotional, messy, vulnerable corners of womanhood that platitudes and good intentions can't reach. Torrey Peters brilliantly and fearlessly navigates the most dangerous taboos around gender, sex, and relationships, gifting us a thrillingly original, witty, and deeply moving novel.
Reviews with the most likes.
This book took me exceptionally long to read because it made me feel dumb. Everything was too smart and alluded to stuff I have never seen or didn't understand. And admittedly, I am not well versed in motherhood or the transgender ‘vocabulary' that you must have to be fully empathetic and engrained in this story. Because of that, I felt disconnected which is why it's 4 stars for me. There are definitely moments where I felt Katrina and Reese were battling as to who suffers more which will never sit right with me (can we just admit every grief is different? that, even grief you consider ‘worse' or ‘not as bad', is still grief in the end?). You can read any 1-2 star review and understand how some people might think about this. The writing is excellent, sometimes overwrought but still craftful.
Ultimately, what bothers me most is how others received the book. I am noticing that a lot of the low reviewers are white cis women, disguising their transphobia and intolerance, by addressing 1-2 quotes they disagree with. And HEY, I'm all for pointing out specific moments you dislike. But these quotes are usually very obviously sarcasm (and I can't help but wonder if these people actually READ the book because they might have gotten this sarcasm if they'd read the context surrounding it...or at least grasped the sarcastic tone). As for the non sarcastic moments, I think it's fair to say that trans men/women are allowed to feel spiteful and upset (sometimes selfishly) about their lives, even if that spite is directed towards cis people. This is not a book promoting expert philosophy, therefore the opinions of the characters do not have to measure up to that level. These are flawed characters written by a real trans person who has, no doubt, felt spite and jealousy just like the rest of us. Just because that spite reaches new territory (of motherhood), does not mean that spite is any less valid. There are infertile people that will forever try to convince pregnant people not to abort their babies because they were given a ‘gift'. Is this not the same thing? Is this rhetoric not rooted in the same logic...that one party has something the other one wants and will, by any means, make themselves a part of it (even if it pains the other)? Let's think critically about the HUMAN EXPERIENCE. We are allowed to write flawed, vulnerable, selfish and jealous characters because we all embody that. So before you get UP IN ARMS about a trans woman feeling slighted or upset about how cis women approach or feel about womanhood, you might want to consider how other peoples opinions and approaches might be different from yours...how those approaches might also (most certainly do) affect you because you've never gotten the chance to experience it yourself.
As for the criticism that this story is very white, I can say wholeheartedly as a black woman that I do not want white people writing for me. I do not want their interpretation of black womanhood through a symbolic black woman with a lot to say about blackness. I would actually take much more offense to this, in that it would almost certainly silence real black voices and books from black people about their own experiences...in the same way a cis person could never write this book. This is also why Katrina's character, specifically her identity as a person of color, did not work for me. It felt that the author was desperately trying to make counter arguments using Katrina, only to circle back to the ultimate point, that Reese's grief and pain is the most unbearable and thus, all the most accurate rhetoric surrounding motherhood is coming from her. While I am extremely empathetic for Reese (arguably more than any other character), I was desperate for some actual thoughtful discussion that didn't involve Katrina backing down... because after all, being an aging divorcee who's miscarried and is now having a baby with an employee, is very hard all on its own.
Let me know what you think. Or don't.
This book is going to stick with me. Peters has a talent for writing searingly accurate portrayals of human behavior and the whys behind her characters' actions. I've seen criticism that the book is short on plot, which may be true - but it doesn't matter. The character study is fantastic.