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A review by westenra
The House on Half Moon Street by Alex Reeve
1.0
There's a special tone of rubbing salt in the wound when a cis man decides writing a trans character would be a fun gimmick for his thriller series... about violence against women. I dont usually like works set in Victorian London bc it's either voyeurism about the (white) urban poor, especially sex workers, or nostalgia for the golden age of the empire but there's so few books about trans men (especially those who haven't physically transitioned) that I suppose i'm desperate.
I dont think all trans stories should be about joy, there's room for hurt and broken people and depictions of oppression, or bad things happening in general. But I don't think a book from 2018 should necessarily be just a catalogue of gendered violence against a trans man and women around him. Even when it's historical fiction, it's being read now, and because there aren't too many trans stories, by trans people. And cis women, who the book also hates.
But this feels like a book from a cis man to cis men, about all men being bastards and the trans man, who can't take a break from being reminded of his femaleness for even one scene, having to learn this. At 25? Through the experience of being raped and getting an abortion (strong men writing "women" energy here btw, in both scenes).
This on top of excessive descriptions of dysphoria, inaccurate depiction of binding & weirdly penis-centric worldview in general, eating disorders, drug abuse, threat of homelessness and institutionalization, suicide attempts... and that's just the main character. Other content in this book includes domestic violence, child trafficking and CSA, dead sex workers, more rape, an evil lesbian villain... I dont even remember all of it. And for a book that tries to make a point about trans identity being valid, and tries to be sympathetic towards the hardships women face, the book feels unnecessarily cruel and doesn't care to depict any of these topics in a sensitive way.
When writing historical fiction, you of course have to include some values of the time. My issue is that historical fiction about oppression often has a feeling to it that since a lot of things have gotten better, all this is in the past. Even though I have personally experienced a bit too many of the awful things the main character goes through to be able to enjoy a book that simply stacks a tragedy on top of another because either the author thinks that's what trans lives are like, or is more concerned about his imagined historical accuracy (because that's always an imagined concept) than the readers of his book. I suppose it all comes down to politeness, unfortunately? Or sensitivity.
Genre matters too, since while yes a gaslamp thriller means a level of dark subjects being depicted, a thriller is also a formulaic page turner. It's not a book you pick up to learn things, it's entertainment. And I think as a trans reader, however presumptuous it is, I should be allowed to expect to be entertained instead of being reminded of my own trauma on every page. It's not a complex book, or a meaningful study of gendered violence. I dont think it's simply shock value either, I think the author meant well but is not the right person to depict any of these experiences so it comes across as using a trendy minority experience to make money.
I dont think all trans stories should be about joy, there's room for hurt and broken people and depictions of oppression, or bad things happening in general. But I don't think a book from 2018 should necessarily be just a catalogue of gendered violence against a trans man and women around him. Even when it's historical fiction, it's being read now, and because there aren't too many trans stories, by trans people. And cis women, who the book also hates.
But this feels like a book from a cis man to cis men, about all men being bastards and the trans man, who can't take a break from being reminded of his femaleness for even one scene, having to learn this. At 25? Through the experience of being raped and getting an abortion (strong men writing "women" energy here btw, in both scenes).
This on top of excessive descriptions of dysphoria, inaccurate depiction of binding & weirdly penis-centric worldview in general, eating disorders, drug abuse, threat of homelessness and institutionalization, suicide attempts... and that's just the main character. Other content in this book includes domestic violence, child trafficking and CSA, dead sex workers, more rape, an evil lesbian villain... I dont even remember all of it. And for a book that tries to make a point about trans identity being valid, and tries to be sympathetic towards the hardships women face, the book feels unnecessarily cruel and doesn't care to depict any of these topics in a sensitive way.
When writing historical fiction, you of course have to include some values of the time. My issue is that historical fiction about oppression often has a feeling to it that since a lot of things have gotten better, all this is in the past. Even though I have personally experienced a bit too many of the awful things the main character goes through to be able to enjoy a book that simply stacks a tragedy on top of another because either the author thinks that's what trans lives are like, or is more concerned about his imagined historical accuracy (because that's always an imagined concept) than the readers of his book. I suppose it all comes down to politeness, unfortunately? Or sensitivity.
Genre matters too, since while yes a gaslamp thriller means a level of dark subjects being depicted, a thriller is also a formulaic page turner. It's not a book you pick up to learn things, it's entertainment. And I think as a trans reader, however presumptuous it is, I should be allowed to expect to be entertained instead of being reminded of my own trauma on every page. It's not a complex book, or a meaningful study of gendered violence. I dont think it's simply shock value either, I think the author meant well but is not the right person to depict any of these experiences so it comes across as using a trendy minority experience to make money.