Middlesex: A Novel (Oprah's Book Club)

I’ve never read anything quite like this. I was swept into this strange story that starts in a Greek village in what’s now turkey, weaves through Detroit’s fall into hard times in the 60s and 70s, but above all tracks the story of a girl who turns out to be not exactly a boy, but a hermaphrodite. It’s so well written, with vivid characters.. and while it almost completely avoids politics and contemporary culture wars it’s also a gentle meditation on gender, ethnicity, sexuality and identity, unspooled in a terrific story.

The writer is creating vivid images. At times I would prefer the action to be faster but when I was following his pace I could slow down and almost dream with him. He brought life to the book’s pages. The story is amazing and I love that it goes so back in history. However, I am wondering if that was reality, could the protagonist be so forgiving, so accepting? He approached gender dysphoria in a general way, not digging into the protagonist's psyche. And also it appears as if others' gaze is pivotal in his acceptance of his body. I would expect to go deeper with him.

Middlesex was my first exposure to the author. I say that as preface to establish that I was a blank slate at the time I read the work. Discovering Mr. Eugenides for me has been the most pleasant experience. This book, as anyone can discern for themselves by reading a synopsis - concerns itself with Calliope who becomes Cal, and more importantly the story of his (or her) family. The clumsiness of my ability to assign gender aside, which may or may not be be politic, this book is emphatically not about gender. Oh, that is not to say that the book does not touch upon the subject. My point is that the intersex subject matter is not the crux of the story, but rather of symbolic importance, a way to access the family history. At one point in the narrative, early on, the narrator even says that this is a genetic history, the story of a single gene through the generations.Thus we come to my titular description of a "small" epic. Although that is unfair. It would be more accurate to say that it is close, because it deals with one family, and yet that would be just as inaccurate in its own way. I would say instead that nearly every character, and certainly the family. is imbued with characteristics that deepen them; in effect, make them more real. There are exceptions of course; it is not a perfect work, but any imperfections for me were worth it for the actual experience that is the good in this book. Portions of this book, particularly the insight the author gives into our protagonist, is pure poetry. This will always be a major plus for me. Of course I was not expecting the same kind of treatment to extend to a geography, Detroit, but I could certainly handle it. Normally, I don't respond nearly so well to an author who takes on a space as muse, especially in this kind of narrative that has a depth-ness of both time and space, but again, for me it didn't detract. At worst, the long soliloquies about Detroit only slowed down the narrative. Of course as a reader, it is slightly irritating that ostensibly for the amount of time that is spent on it, the zeitgeist of Detroit is a character itself. However, I don't know how much of this is the novel itself, or simply the limitations of the genre. Any work that concerns itself heavily with the passage of history, has to deal with that history. For all of the beauty of the words then, this book is pragmatic in that sense.But, to reiterate. When this book is good, it's good. Like candy or cake melting on the tongue. We get to see the characters as the ultimate snapshots of humanity - in highs and lows and everything in-between. Most impressively, for all that this book clothes itself in allusions towards mythology and tragedy, all of this is done without pretension.

I plunged into Middlesex the way I prefer to do all of my fiction reading - without knowing anything about the book - and I am so very grateful to have done that particularly with this one. If you are reading this review, then either (i) you have already read the book and are curious for other's opinions or (ii) you are clearly not like me, otherwise you wouldn't be reading this review. If you haven't read the book and your mind isn't already tainted with pre-conceived notions about it, I suggest you stop reading this review and simply pick up the book. It is excellent, and that's all you need to know.Okay, then, that's my warning. The rest of this review will reveal some bare bones facts on what this book is about, and don't say that I didn't warn you against forming pre-conceived notions.In brilliant and engaging prose, Eugenides tells us a story that spans three generations of the Stephanides family through the omniscient eyes of its youngest member. The fact that the story spans three generations suggests that it would be an epic novel, but to me it's not epic. It feels intimate and warm, not grand. And, although we do learn about the narrator's grandparents and parents, the story is ultimately about the narrator, who is a hermaphrodite. Some reviewers have commented on how the book seems divided into two stories - the family saga and the hermaphrodite. Sadly, I think that interpretation misses the point of this novel. It's one story, because you are your parents' child just as you are your grandparents' grandchild.I found the novel so convincing that I started to wonder if Eugenides himself was a hermaphrodite and if this book was a dramatized autobiography. No, he is not and this book is not, but that is how realistic it feels. Eugenides succeeds because he doesn't make us pity the poor creature nor does he create a freak show. Instead, he makes the narrator incredibly and unbelievably human.Not only is the story itself compelling, but the words conveying that story are well-crafted. Eugenides is an adept storyteller. His words flow like water. The narration is completely engrossing and easy to read. Now, I don't mean easy to read as in the writing is simplistic or elementary. I just mean that it doesn't feel like you are reading a heavy piece of literature. It doesn't tax your brain. The words just flow, and I absolutely love that.One last point. In this book, Eugenides perfects an often neglected aspect of storytelling and that is the story arc. Most authors get away with ignoring the arc. It's not necessary for a bestseller, nor is it necessary in the way beautiful prose is for literary acclaim. But, in this novel, the story arc is textbook perfect. The beginning establishes a solid foundation. The middle maintains a steady pace and then crescendos beautifully until it climaxes fairly close to the end. At last, the conclusion releases all of the built up tension, ultimately leaving the reader feeling completely satisfied.Completely satisfied.

wonderful character development, historical finesse, lots of education on issues rarelly written about…well worth the investment in terms of learning

This book was fascinating. The narrator holds your attention, leading you through a serpentine life and family history. I definitely recommend it!

Es una novela narrada en tono de autobiografía, exponiendo la historia (bastante movida) de tres generaciones de una familia griega procedente de "Asia Menor" (la parte griega de la actual Turquía), desde los tiempos de Ataturk, hasta su asentamiento en Detroit. Son especialmente intensos el momento de su precipitada huida de Esmirna, ante el ataque de las tropas turcas; y, ya cerca del final, las escenas que relatan la terrible tesitura de la protagonista, cuando se revela que no es una niña sino un niño, cuyo desarrollo genital se vio detenido por una mutación genética. Aparte de su narrativa (con tiente homéricos), destaca su profundo análisis psicológico, tanto el de los abuelos fugitivos, como del/de la protagonista, que, ya adolescente, da un vuelco a su vida al huir de la clínica donde pretendían extirparle sus nacientes atributos genitales masculinos. También tiene un gran valor el estudio sobre la diferencia entre "sexo" (determinado por los genes e inmutable) y "género" (la identificación sexual, susceptible de cambios). Y además presenta muy bien la lenta transformación de una sociedad basada en el automóvil (la de Detroit) a otra devastada por la gran Depresión de los años 30.Es una novela larga, a veces intensa, otras veces algo más relajada, pero siempre muy interesante.

Me gustó mucho. Su forma de escribir me agrada bastante, ya que siendo un tema tan fuerte, lo trata de una manera suave. Me parece un libro fuerte, sensible, con mucho conocimiento médico, social y de historia. Mantiene el interés y despierta compasión.