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Summary
Summary
Four people in a small Vermont village are about to have their lives inexorably intertwined by the uncertainties of love . . . and the apparent absolutes of gender. Schoolteacher Allison Banks, the long-divorced mother of a teenager on the cusp of college, has at last fallen in love. The object of her desire? Dana Stevens, a professor at the nearby university and her instructor for a summer film and literature course. Her daughter, Carly, watches with pleasure her mother's newfound happiness, but her ex-husband, Will, the president of Vermont Public Radio, is jealous. Still secretly in love with his ex-wife, he finds himself increasingly unsettled by the prospect of Allison's attachment to another man. Yet Dana is unlike anyone Allison has ever been with: attentive, gentle, kind -- and an exceptionally ardent lover. Moreover, it's clear that Dana cares just as deeply for Allison. The only stumbling block? Dana has known always that in actuality he is a woman -- genitalia, plumbing, and perceptions be damned -- and he will soon be having a sex change operation. At first Allison runs, but overwhelmed by the depth of her passions, she returns. But can the pair's love transcend both the biologic imperatives that are their bodies, as well as their ingrained notions of sexual preference? Moreover, can their love survive the outrage of the small community in which they live? All four characters -- Allison, Dana, Carly, and Will -- narrate this compelling story, spinning a tale that will keep you turning the pages with the eagerness we usually reserve for thrillers, while nodding in wonder at such a deeply moving and profoundly honest portrayal of longing, love, and desire.
Author Notes
Chris Bohjalian (born on August 12, 1962 in White Plains, New York) graduated from Amherst College and worked as an account representative for J. Walter Thompson advertising agency in New York in the mid-1980s. Bohjalian is an American novelist and the author of 15 novels, including the bestsellers Midwives and The Sandcastle Girls. His first novel, A Killing in the Real World, was released in 1988. His other novels include Water Witches, The Law of Similars, Before You Know Kindness, Skeletons at the Feast, and The Night Strangers. Past the Bleachers and Midwives were made into Hallmark Hall of Fame movies and Secrets of Eden was made into a Lifetime Television movie. He won the New England Book Award in 2002. He also contributes to numerous publications including Cosmopolitan, Reader's Digest, Boston Globe Sunday Magazine and the Burlington Free Press. Bohjalian's The Guest Room is a New York Times bestseller.
(Bowker Author Biography)
Reviews (4)
Publisher's Weekly Review
The bestselling author of Midwives and The Law of Similars continues his tradition of incorporating social issues into his moving narratives. Transsexuality goes mainstream in this Scarlet Letter for a softer, gentler but more complicated age. Allison Banks--42 years old, heterosexual, long divorced, mother of a college student and a grade school teacher in a picturesque Vermont village--meets single, attractive, attentive, 35-year-old Dana Stevens when she takes his film class at a nearby college. Early on in the relationship, Dana confesses that he has always believed he was female, though he desires women, too--and he is soon to undergo a long-planned sex change operation. Despite this revelation, and despite her reservations, Allison invites Dana to move in with her, and they have great sex right up until the night before the operation in Colorado, where Allison has loyally accompanied Dana for post-op and moral support. On their return to Vermont, he--now physically and emphatically "she"--continues to share Allison's bed and her house, though nothing can be the same as it was. Allison's ex-husband, Vermont Public Radio president Will, now her good friend, and their daughter, Carly, cope well with the situation, but the close-knit community is less understanding. Questions of what constitutes community tolerance are explored here, but the novel's central focus is on the definition of sex and gender in the characters' personal lives. Allison, Dana, Carly and Will express their views in alternating first person chapters, and transcripts from a fictional NPR All Things Considered series on Dana and her operation provide additional narrative background. Gender is central to who we are, Bohjalian concludes, but not perhaps to who we love. Sex, on the other hand, expresses who we are. Bohjalian's sometimes simplistic characterizations diminish the emotional impact of the novel, and his abundant research on gender dysfunction often gives the book a curiously flat, documentary quality. Nevertheless, Bohjalian humanizes the transsexual community and explains the complexities of sex and gender in an accessible, evenhanded fashion, making a valuable contribution to a dialogue of social and political import. 50,000 first printing; NPR sponsorship; cross-promotion with Vintage publication of The Law of Similars; 15-city author tour. (May) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Booklist Review
What is the relationship between gender and sexuality? How do your feelings about yourself as a man or woman affect your sexual preferences? How important are your genitalia to your self-image? Bohjalian explores these questions with honesty and compassion. Allison, an elementary-school teacher, takes a film class and falls in love with Dana, her professor. Dana feels the same way about Allison--but when he reveals his plans to undergo a sex change operation, Allison is tormented with questions. She loves Dana as a man--what if she isn't attracted to Dana as a woman? Why should Dana's gender matter if Allison loves the person inside the body? Once word gets out, outraged parents complain that Allison's relationship with Dana is a moral danger to the children she teaches, so that Allison risks losing not only Dana, but her job as well. Provocative and insightful, this gender-bending novel will make readers question what it means to be a man or a woman, and how strongly these identities are influenced by biological and cultural pressures. --Bonnie Johnston
Kirkus Review
Best-selling Bohjalian (the Oprah-blessed Midwives, 1997, etc.) explores the fluid nature of love, gender, and identity in a graphically detailed story about a transsexual man's medical and psychological journey. In between excerpts from an imaginary National Public Radio broadcast, four characters alternately offer their takes on the events covered by the NPR program. Set in a small Vermont village, the tale deliberately raises many contentious issues, including the role of teachers in a community and the right to privacy, as it depicts the varied and unexpected ways sexual attraction is manifested. Carly, daughter of divorced Allie and Will Banks and soon to be a college freshman, begins by describing her first impressions of Dana Stevens. He teaches film at the local university, and Allie, a sixth-grade teacher auditing the course, is attracted to handsome and empathetic Dana; the two are soon lovers. Will, still carrying a torch for Allie, is initially jealous of the relationship. But , truth to say, Dana has never been comfortable as a man, and he shocks Allie by telling her that he he's heading out to Colorado at the end of the year to have sex-changing surgery. As a result, Carly is forced to do some deep thinking about gender and sexual orientation. Allie, in the meantime, is even more confused about her feelings, but she supports Dana and after the operation brings her former lover back to her house to recuperate. This nearly costs Allie her job, as parents remove their children from her class in protest. Dana is soon a gorgeous woman, but Allie realizes she preferred her as a man. Female Dana, who thought she was a lesbian, is confused by what she's now feeling. Meanwhile, readers are likely to feel they're getting a seminar instead of a novel. Shallow people and a sluggish narrative fail to illuminate a difficult and painful dilemma. Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Library Journal Review
A compelling and often disturbing novel, Trans-sister Radio challenges all of our assumptions about gender, relationships, and sexuality. A powerful secret literally transforms four lives: Allison Banks, a sixth grade teacher; Will, her ex-husband and president of a local Vermont Public Radio station; their teenage daughter Carly; and Dana Stevens, a college instructor who falls in love with Allison. The structure of the book is essential for understanding the (r)evolution of emotions that occur with the complex issues Bohjalian explores through private lives made very public. The four voices, performed by Kymberli Colbourne, alternate to reveal their own separate struggles and to create a metamorphosis that is central to the story. A demanding work that is often graphic, always gentle, and full of wisdom and surprising humor. Recommended for adult audiences. Joyce Kessel, Villa Maria Coll., Buffalo, NY (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Excerpts
Excerpts
Carly I was eight when my parents separated, and nine when they actually divorced. That means that for a little more than a decade, I've watched my mom get ready for dates. Sometimes, until I started ninth grade, I'd even keep her company on Saturday afternoons, while she'd take these long, luxurious bubble baths. I'd put the lid down on the toilet and sit there, and we'd talk about school or boys or the guy she was dating. I stopped joining her in the bathroom in ninth grade for a lot of reasons, but mostly because it had started to seem a little weird to me to be hanging out with her when I was fourteen and she was naked. But she has always been pretty cool about bodies and sex, and for all I know, she wouldn't mind my joining her in the bathroom even now when I'm home from college. For better or worse--and usually for better--my mom has always been very comfortable with subjects that give most parents the shivers. A couple of days before my fifteenth birthday, she took me to the gynecologist to get me fitted for a diaphragm, and told me where in her bedroom she kept the spermicidally lubricated condoms. (Of course, I already knew: God, by then I even knew where she'd hidden a vibrator.) I hadn't had sex yet, and my mom made it clear that she didn't want me to in the foreseeable future. But she had a pretty good memory of the hormonal chaos that hits a person in high school, and she wanted to do all that she could for my sake to ensure that she wouldn't become a grandmother any sooner than necessary. When I think back on it, my parents' divorce was very civilized. At least it has always seemed that way to me, though it's clear there are things I don't know. The way my mom tells it, I was in second or third grade when they realized they just didn't love each other anymore the way they had when they were first married. They'd worked together at the radio station then, and they'd shared everything. My mom insists they both came to the realization at about the same time that they should separate: My mom was thirty-two and my dad was thirty-three, and they figured they were still young enough to hook up with someone who, in the long years ahead, could keep their motors humming the way they were meant to. Sometimes my dad hints that it wasn't quite so mutual. Most of the time he toes their party line, but every so often I'll get the impression that when he moved out, he was figuring they'd both change their minds and reconcile in a couple of weeks. I think he might have thought he was just being cool. Once when he was visiting my mom, I overheard him telling her that he knew her heart had never been into the counseling they went through when I was eight. Still, he was the one who got remarried. Sometimes, when I was little, I'd help my mom pick out her jewelry or clothing for a date. "Wear the pearls," I might suggest. "It's a clambake," she'd remind me. "Too formal?" "And they might scare the oysters." One time she especially indulged me. I was eleven years old and convinced there was no fashion statement more powerful than a kilt. And so she wore a red-and-green Christmas kilt to a backyard cookout, even though it was the middle of August and the air was just plain sticky. That night my baby-sitter spent most of the time standing in front of a fan, with her T-shirt rolled up like a halter. If I were to count, I'd guess my mom probably had five serious boyfriends in the decade between my parents' divorce and the day she met Dana. Dana had been in pre-surgical therapy for two years by then and had probably endured close to fifty hours of electrolysis. He'd been on hormone therapy for a good four or five months. Unlike a lot of pre-op M2Fs, he wasn't trying to pass as a woman yet, he hadn't begun his transition. Of course, he didn't tell my mom any of this--not that he should have. When they met, he was simply the professor for a film course at the university that she was taking that summer as a lark, and she was one of his students. What was he supposed to do, say to the class, "Hi, I'm Dana, and I've spent a good part of the last year with my upper lip deadened by Novacaine"? Or, "Good evening, I'm your professor. I'm about to start developing breasts!" Or, if he wanted, for some reason, to be completely candid, "You folks ever met a lesbian with a penis? Have now!" He had no idea he was going to fall in love with my mom, even when they started to date, and she had no idea she was going to fall in love with him. It just happened. Excerpted from Trans-Sister Radio by Chris Bohjalian All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
