Detransition, Baby

Did you know that trans people can write books? I guess I should not have found it that surprising. Lots of people can write books, and I never explicitly thought trans people couldn’t write books, but now that I am straight I just assume all cultural works are created by straight people like me. Looks like I am wrong! (Oh my. Does this mean gay people can also write books? Mind blown.)

In any case, among my pickups at the library Pride display was a novel called Detransition, Baby by Torrey Peters. This book is about detransitioning and about babies, although not necessarily in that order. I am not sure I want to reveal much more of the plot than that, because unlike Rick I really liked this book and hope that some of you read it. (“Liked” might be a strong word. The book was compelling if not likeable, in any case.)

Did you know that trans people have a culture, and that is pretty different from straight culture? Furthermore, it seems pretty different from mainstream gay culture, too. Who knew? This book is probably written for outsiders to that culture, but it reads as if it is written for insiders. The effect is that we feel as if we are peeking into a new world we didn’t know exist, and where we will somehow not ruin everything by observing. Although I am 100% confident that this book is not the definitive guide to trans experiences, it reads like a book that is a definitive guide to a particular trans experience. There are a lot of passages about the rituals and conventions about this culture, as well as the mandatory observations about how cis people are clueless around their trans brethren. The book is full of clever observations, many of which made me feel bad for enjoying.

The book feels genuine. The characters here are not heroic propaganda pieces in the Culture Wars. They are kind of messed up, and they all do unlikable things even though we want to like them. They think and say politically-incorrect things, and even worse have the audacity to criticize their own tribes. I don’t think Torrey hates white trans woman culture, but she sure can be judgmental of it.

On the other hand, the straight male characters feel more like cardboard cutouts, and often they end up being villainous, but I suppose nobody else is going to fill that niche.

The book is structured pretty well. The plot is tight and solid. In several cases scenes that you thought were present for character development are actually Chekov’s Gun, which adds a lot to the story. I did not re-read the book but even in taking excerpts I could see all of the herrings Torrey plants that point towards future revelations. As Sassybear knows I have problems suspending disbelief, but even though many of the situations in this book are wild (Truvada as a trans birth-control regimen, anyone?) they did not knock me out of the story.

If you choose to read this book you should be forewarned that Torrey is merciless. She writes things that might well make you feel uncomfortable. Although the actions of her characters are consistent to their natures, some of those actions are not pretty.

On that note, I will close with an excerpt that illustrates the politically-incorrect observations Torrey makes. I enjoyed this passage, which is more evidence that can be used against me in case I ever appeal my conviction. (I had originally planned to post a long excerpt about juvenile elephants, but in addition to upsetting Maddie it contained some false statements, so I swapped it for this one.)

If you are a trans girl who knows many other trans girls, you go to church a lot, because church is where they hold the funerals. What no one wants to admit about funerals, because you’re supposed to be crushed by the melancholy of being a trans girl among the prematurely dead trans girls, is that funerals for dead trans girls number among the notable social events of a season.

Who knows what people will say at a trans funeral? Will some queer make a political speech instead of a eulogy, so that for weeks afterward other queers will post outraged screeds about it on social media? How many times will a family member deadname or misgender the deceased from the pulpit, unabashed about it in his grief, peering out at the sea of weirdos who showed up unexpectedly to what he considered a family event? Did their son — er, daughter — really have all these friends? Which nice white cis person will remind the assembled mourners — a high percentage of whom are trans women themselves — that everyone must do to save trans women of color, who are being murdered (murdered!), although this particular highly attended funeral is, of course, a suicide, because that’s how the white girls die prematurely.

-p. 209