I Am J: Boy Meets World

I Am J, a new young adult novel by Cris Beam, concerns a trans boy coming to terms with his identity and the realities of dealing with transition, school, his self-expression, disclosure of trans status, housing, family, friends and his love life. It's a lot to cram into one quickly read book and there are times when Beam's work comes across as a somewhat rote listing about "what trans teens go through" as written by a well-intentioned social worker or counselor. Fortunately, the novel is written with a compelling directness and clear prose which vividly projects the packed story forward. It's a story most teens (and the book is perfectly enjoyable by adults as well) will gobble up—it could be a gritty Afterschool Special on T and steroids. And Beam, more than most non-trans writers, clearly knows the world and youth she's depicting.

A New York Frame of Mind

J (his assigned birth name started with the same letter) is a confused young person in his last year of high school in Washington Heights section of NYC living with his oblivious and homophobic Jewish dad and somewhat smothering Puerto Rican mom. His best friend is modern dancer, Melissa, on whom J has an unrequited crush. He is viewed by his family and school as a butch babydyke and, in the immediate world of J, no one seems to have a clue as to J's trans identity as a male. Along the way J flits with running away, teen shelters, homelessness, attending queer high school and a pins and needles relationship with a straight artsy girl, 'Blue,' who's a painter and is in the dark about J's trans status. At his LGBTQ high school (here fictionally named after Sylvia Rivera but patterned after New York's Harvey Milk High School) he befriends trans woman Chanelle, a sad-eyed, poetic 20-year old returnee to queer high who is miles above the other students in literary knowledge and sophistication and Zak, a buff, 20-something trans man who becomes a kind of mentor and ideal for J.

Without giving too much of the story away, J eventually gets hooked in with support groups, a therapist and into the path of medical transition. He has issues with his family and is tortured about disclosing his trans status to Blue. He cuts school a lot and wanders around New York obsessing over his homemade binder, copying the tough guys he sees, wearing too many layers of clothes to hide his body and endlessly smoking. It's fair to say I've never read a young adult novel where the main character chain smokes as much as J.

A New York Frame of Mind

While I can understand why the process of approaching transition would be compelling to someone who wasn't trans, for myself, as someone who is trans, an awful lot of the narration reminded me of so many hundreds of tortured YouTube videos. There is a lot of doled out "trans information" thinly disguised in a fictionalized setting—good from a standpoint of authenticity and, for the most part, accuracy but not always compelling. The first half of the book, where J is reaching a breaking point and cutting school for several weeks, is the most powerful. It accurately portrays urban (albeit middle-class) youth going through the alienation and self-doubt of exploring their gendered selves while nearly falling off the edge of mainstream society. The second half of the book seems overly plotted, rather pat and, at times, under-explored. It fell into the "and then this happened, and then this happened..." school of story blocking.

A Story about a transition or a character?

My biggest issue with the book, however, has to do with the title character. Other than the fact he's a trans boy and the figure around which the story of being a young trans person is wound around, he's really not especially compelling. While he's described as being somewhat shy and shown as not terribly articulate, he's also not a terribly interesting person. For a young guy growing up in New York with two fairly intelligent parents, he seems incredibly naive, disconnected from his environment and, yes, boring. Most of the other characters in the book felt more alive and fun than J and, as I read it, I often wondered why they were even interested in hanging with him? I did appreciate that, unlike "Parrotfish" and "Jumpstart the World," two other young adult books featuring trans masculine characters, J is in no way presented as a sensitive character (AKA, still somehow deep down innately female). He's frequently a clueless brick in the way many teenaged boys are.

First person: Where it Belongs

Where J does deserve big-time credit is in it's realness, gritty detail and use of J as the narrator. Too many trans books such as the recent "Jumpstart the World," "Almost Perfect" and "Luna" use the device of having a cis narrator interpreting a trans experience. While I can understand a non-trans writer being loathe to presume a trans voice when they haven't lived that life (and Beam obviously has none of those qualms) it creates a certain distance from the issues and feelings raised by the trans experience... as though it was being tip-toed around. I Am J is also a far superior, better written and more accurate book than the rather lightweight "Parrotfish," perhaps the other best known book about a transmasculine teen. Beam's book is a great improvement both in terms of showing more of the real struggles trans youth face but also taking it out of a sterile, idealized suburban context with which a broader range of teens (eg nonwhite) can connect.

Cris Beam, author of 'I Am J' and Transparent

As to a non-trans writer embodying the trans experience, J himself has concerns about his cis friend Melissa exploiting his life as the basis for a dance/performance piece she's doing. He says he "didn't want Melissa to dance his story; he wanted to photograph it (himself)." Nonetheless, Beam, more than any other cis writer, certainly knows the world of urban trans youth having taught at a queer/trans high school in LA (which her previous non-fiction work, Transparent, is based on) and being a de facto foster parent/mentor to a trans teen herself. While I'm not going to play the game of "rate the ally" she deserves her trans cred and in the book's Author's Note, sensitively addresses some of the issues of her, a female, non-trans middle aged white woman writing this story. I Am J also includes some thoughtful resources and contacts readers who are exploring their gender issues can access.

A Good Second Wave: Waiting for the Third

While I think I Am J will deservedly be viewed as a groundbreaking book by many, I can't help feeling that, in a few years, as much more literature and art is being creating by actual trans men and boys and not just their allies, far more powerful and sophisticated narratives will be created. Stories which go beyond "transition is hard" and deal indepth with compelling characters who happen to be trans instead of somewhat dull ones who are plugged into a generalized trans narrative. As readable and needed a book as I Am J is, I kept wishing J the person was as interesting as his transition.

Trans-themed teen fiction: Jumpstart the World.

Catherine Ryan Hyde's Jumpstart the World is one of several recent young adult novels which incorporate trans characters or themes. Somewhat like soap operas, YAF (Young Adult Fiction) as a genre tends to deal with more challenging subjects and social issues than books targeted towards adults. Perhaps this is because of young people's curiosity and openness about the world and also, because these books are competing for their readership's attention against the onslaught of gaming, social networks and CGI-laden films. As a result, they tend to focus on twists and turns of interpersonal relationships and the challenges of maturing within an often hostile, fragmented society.

Jumpstart the World centers around just turned 16-year old New Yorker, Elle, who is dumped by her narcissistic mom into her own Manhattan apartment when the mom's boyfriend can't deal with having a teen in the house. Elle is a friendless, sullen loner who is switching high schools and holds out little hope for herself. She gets a mangy, one-eyed, antisocial cat from the ASPCA as company just to annoy her mom who puts a high value on physical beauty.

Upon moving into her own apartment (Hyde doesn't explain how a 15-year old can move into her own apartment without attracting the interest of Child Protective Services... it's more of a teen fantasy) she meets her next door neighbors, Frank and Molly. 30-year old Frank is few inches shorter than the tall, gangly Elle, is studying to become a vet and is described as sounding a bit as if he just sucked-in helium. Molly is a boho hippy-chick, social activist photographer. Frank instantly befriends the lost teen and, as they sit out on the fire escape for long talks, Elle finds she has a major crush on her mellow neighbor.

At the same time, Elle meets some queer kids at her new school including lesbian Shane, gay couple "the two Bobs" and, especially, a femme boy sporting eyeliner, Wilbur. She gets roped into inviting them to her apartment (since not too many teens have their own place, much less in Manhattan). It's during this get-together that her new high school buds meet Frank and immediately clock him as a trans man. Elle is confused and upset by this information, mostly because she longs for Frank yet, despite cutting her hair super short in an act of teen defiance, isn't especially queer-comfortable. She emotionally withdraws from Frank, not knowing how to deal with his trans history.

Without giving away too much of the relatively simple plot, something horrible happens to Frank and, yes, Elle learns how to accept difference and the part of herself attracted to one who "isn't what they seem to be." While she ultimately loses Frank (who remains with his girlfriend, Molly) she becomes a closer friend to the gender-variant Wilbur who is dealing with a not-accepting stepdad. As with all YAF books (and those ABC Afterschool Specials), life lessons have been learned.

Jumpstart the World is Catherine Ryan Hyde's

16th published novel

The best aspect of Jumpstart the World is following Elle through her voyage of self-discovery laden with entertaining doses of sarcasm and self-deprecation. The tone is somewhat similar to the 1990's tv cult classic "My So-Called Life." She comes to understand that one can only be lovable when you care for others and allow them to care for you. Hyde writes flowing prose a young adult reader will gobble down and scrounge for more.

Ultimately, though, the book doesn't go deep enough and remains a slight volume. Elle's relationships are never complex enough in the love-hate way of most teen girls. Even her feelings towards Frank seem flat and absent of hormones. The sexuality of her crush for Frank is never delved into. Does she ever masturbate about him, stalk him, is she ever hostile/resentful towards Molly? These aspects of teen lust are never explored, so it all seems so... chaste. Much of their time together revolves around taking care of Elle's cat (and by cat, I mean her pet, not her pussy). By contrast, Brian Katcher's recent book, Almost Perfect, also about a cis-teen falling in love with a trans person (in that case, a trans girl) doesn't pull any punches when it comes to the emotional/physical experiences of a teenager in love and what shenanigans they'll get into when they're in heat.

Almost Perfect, (reviewed elsewhere in this blog)

is an outstanding book about a trans teen in love

Moreover, Frank (who is seemingly still in transition and, at one point, has a top surgery party) is portrayed as a kind of saint. Most trans people will be honest that transition is an often turbulent time filled with emotional roller-coaster rides fueled on hormones and social challenges and that they're anything but easy to live with. Other than some barely mentioned fears Frank has about being in the hospital, none of this comes through. And what do we get instead? Frank is sensitive—more sensitive than other men. In other words, Hyde objectifies him as a kind of semi-woman—incapable of not being nice, nurturing and forgiving. Granted, Frank is being viewed through the filter of a lovesick, self-obsessed 16-year old girl. But such girls, if anything, tend to have powerful skills at identifying the emotional minutiae of others they're interested in. There is little in the book which shows Elle trying to burrow her way into Frank's head the way teens tend to do in the bat of an eyelash.

Jumpstart the World, for a book about trans/queer issues, feels like the work of an outsider who's afraid to get down and dirty into the realities of trans/homo phobia, bodies, sexuality or, yes, even what it's like to live in New York. Yes, Wilbur drinks beer but, other than that, the author seems afraid to talk about what else he's up to. It also plays it very safe with what the life of queer teens are like in a place like New York, both in terms of what they face and the acting out and mischief they would likely seek.

Parrotfish -- often recommended,

altogether milquetoast

While Jumpstart could be good book for 12-15 year olds, it feels a bit too 'young' for those in their late teens. Sadly, like other YAF trans-related books such as Luna or Almost Perfect (which is a much more challenging and harrowing read) it's told through a non-trans POV, as if the author couldn't hope to get into the head of a trans person and make them the central character. This creates distance from what could be the interesting core of the book (although Katchor, unlike Luna's author, Julie Ann Peters, doesn't sugarcoat any of the realities of being a young trans person). Like Parrotfish, an often-mentioned YAF book about a trans boy, it offers a 'nice' version of trans men, lacking in complexity, patiently explaining to us in guarded terms what still seems positively female about these characters and never offering anything too sexual or upsetting for fear the reader will be repulsed. By contrast, Almost Perfect gives a powerful, conflicted portrait of a transgirl, replete with profound insecurities, self-loathing, acting out and sexual longing. One wonders if the authors of Parrotfish or Jumpstart have ever really known a trans person except in passing, since they've both created altogether flat portraits of someone going through one of the most difficult of life passages.

While it's vitally important for trans people to have a place at the YAF table, especially given the profound impact these books have with their young readership, an impact which will shape their attitudes for the rest of their lives, Jumpstart the World sadly fails at its portrayal of a trans life (much less lust for a trans person). Rather than pushing her reader's comfort zone, she plays it safe: nice innocuous trans guy + safe/chaste crush = pleasant, innocuous YAF read. Ultimately, it feels as if a trans character was tossed into the plot for hip window dressing and the 'YAF plot subject of the month'... he could just as well be almost any other fill-in-the-blank minority (and, no doubt, that character would also be equally gently wry, wise and caring). If anything, trans people aren't bland and Ms. Hyde has sadly not written a book for young people which lives up to its title.

Anna Madrigal: The Same Old Cis?

Trans landlady, Anna Madrigal (Olympia Dukakis, L.) sizes

up her new tenant, naive cis, white girl

Mary Ann Singleton (Laura Linney, R.)

If one were to ask those who care about such things which is the best known trans character in fiction, very likely many, both in the US and Europe, would mention Anna Madrigal, the trans woman landlady (and pot grower) from Armistead Maupin's Tales of the City series. Okay, yes there is Gore Vidal's 1968's satirical cause célèbre Myra Breckenridge (and its followup of a few years later called Myron), but both of those books are currently out-of-print, mostly unknown by anyone under 40 and neither has aged especially well—especially after the disastrous 1970 film adaptation of Myra starring Rex Reed (as pre-transition Myron) and Raquel Welch as the title character. It's campy fun for the first half-hour but a near unwatchably bad movie.

Raquel Welch as a sort of trans woman

in Myra Breckenridge

Tales of the City, on the other hand, remains a hugely popular series whose 8th installment just came out, entitled Mary Ann in Autumn. Not only is a very aged Anna Madrigal still alive and kicking, but the book also features a trans man character, Jake, who is the assistant to gay series stalwart Michael (Mouse) Tolliver in his gardening business. Still very much in demand, the Tales series is far more popular in England, France and Germany than it is in the US, where it's always had a strong fan base, but has had a complex history with American media who are seemingly attracted by its Dickensian multi-part serialized cliffhanger format but scared off by its mostly gentle homoeroticism and gay and trans characters. Fortunately, its initial TV version in 1993 was a wildly successful, award-winning adaptation made by Channel 4 in Britain but shown in shamefully expurgated form in America on PBS.

And now, along with this new edition to the collection, comes the announcement that in summer of 2011, a musical version based on the first two books is debuting at the American Conservatory Theater in San Francisco, then off to the O'Neill Theater Center in Connecticut and, hopefully, Broadway after that. And not just any crew is tackling this job, but some pretty high-profile theater and music artists including the director/creator of the Tony award winning Avenue Q, and composer Jake Shears, the main force behind the queer chic band, The Scissor Sisters. This isn't the first musical piece connected with Tales. Maupin collaborated with opera composer Jake Heggie on a concert work called Anna Madrigal Remembers, which starred famed operatic mezzo Frederika von Stade as Anna. But this new version of Tales of the City will be a more complete and commercial musical adaptation.

Jake Shears of the Scissors Sisters

How trans issues are covered in both the books and the now three tv adaptations (two further installments of the series were co-produced by and shown on Showtime) is, as might be expected, a mixed bag. Like Myra Breckenridge, Tales was written by a gay, male author. Maupin was inspired to include a transsexual character after attending a "help pay for SRS" party thrown by a trans woman in San Francisco during the 70s. Maupin has stated that most of Anna comes from his own issues coming to grips with himself as a gay man and maturing into adulthood with a strong need to nurture young people.

Anna tending her (pot) garden both

metaphorically and physically

The good news about Anna is she's very much written as 'a woman of a certain age' with absolutely no drag or camp aspect to her (unlike many even contemporary gay centered portrayals of trans women). She certainly connects with gay men, but in much the same way she connects with young non-trans women... as an aging hippie boho mentor/substitute mom who will sit on the stoop or in the comfy parlor chair, smoke a joint with you and ponder life's complexities and possibilities. Equally groundbreaking is her relationship with a patrician straight older man, Edgar Halcyon, who still considers Anna the love of his life even after she tells him of her trans history. In many ways, it's the most moving romance of many in the entire Tales series. Unique in Tales is how Anna is portrayed as a clearly maternal figure and, later in the series, as a parent. Needless to say, there were no other portrayals of trans people during the 70s showing them in romances or parenting, and Maupin deserves much credit for going there with the character.

Yet there are some "unfortunate" parts to her portrayal. Maupin describes her as keeping a pre-transition photo of herself on her bedside table showing her in her navy uniform (Maupin was a former naval officer himself). While I know trans women who keep 'pre' photos in their homes (most often for their children or families) I've never known a trans person who would want an image of her 'pre' self in such an intimate spot. In a more minor bit of misinformation, Anna is described as going to Denmark to get SRS (no doubt copying what Maupin had heard about Christine Jorgensen) even though SRS was stopped in that country long before Anna could have gone there. In the most sensationalistic part of his depiction, the name "Anna Madrigal" is said to have come from an anagram of "a man and a girl." Yes, there are bi-gender or gender queer people these days, but for someone who defines herself as a woman, which Anna clearly does, to describe herself as a man and a girl is a bizarre author's fantasy of what a trans woman is. (curiously, Maupin didn't initially plan on the anagram, and only wrote it into the story when one of the readers of the daily serialized version of Tales, which debuted in the San Francisco Chronicle newspaper in the late 70s, informed him of it).

2010: Armistead Maupin being hugged by Olympia

In all the tv adaptations, Anna was portrayed by academy award winning actress Olympia Dukakis who has called her experience playing Anna one of the highlights of her career. Dukakis completely plays Anna as a woman. She doesn't attempt to do "unsuccessfully trying to be a woman" schtick as Felicity Huffman did in TransAmerica or inject "residual maleness" into the character. When the saga begins, Anna is twelve years post-transition, and while she has some anxiety about people around her knowing of her history (there is a later blackmail plot against her in the saga), she's in no way ashamed of it nor does she show any signs of allowing anyone to devalue her womanhood.

Would the role have been better had it been played by an actual trans actress? It's hard to know. Dukakis is certainly one of the best stage and film actresses in the US and she played Anna with the same care, passion and thoughtfulness as she does all her roles. There was no attempt to "have fun" with the role or to play it with cis-sexual assumptions or cliches about trans women, nor was it a "play a freak, or person with a disability to win an award" kind of portrayal. Given the choice, I would much rather have a non-trans woman play the role than have, say, a drag or gay male performer portraying this character.

The TV version of Tales does have several scenes where I thought an actual trans woman might have given more perspective. In the second series, More Tales of the City, there is a scene of Anna telling a group of people about her history (including someone she barely knows). It's a little glib and, while you can see Anna is somewhat conflicted telling it to them, it has none of the anxiety of how it might impact their relationship with her. There's another scene where Anna reconnected with her mother (who she hasn't seen since she was 16) and, while it's a moving portrayal of showing someone who needs a mother's love and acceptance, it has a flatness when compared to many of the "family reconnection" experiences of trans people I've heard. Such experiences from both parties, even if they result in a loving relationship, are often multi-layered, with bumps and starts and hugely conflicted.

Broadway/Cabaret icon Betty Buckley

Which leads us to Tales of the City: The Musical. It has already been announced the role of Anna is to be filled by Tony-award-winning actress Betty Buckley, best known for singing the famous song "Memory" in the original Broadway production of "Cats," the tv show "8 is Enough" and numerous Broadway revivals. More to the point, Ms. Buckley is a kind of gay male icon as a Broadway performer and cabaret singer, right up there with Patti LuPone, Chita Rivera and one step below Liza. There's no question she has a certain short-term draw to the gay musical-going public and to those who are real Broadway fanatics... perhaps the starter audience needed to get such a show off and running.

White male John Gielgud as Othello

But the question remains, are there trans actress/singers who could play the role of Anna and, perhaps, bring more authenticity and first person experience to it? For centuries white star actors in blackface played Othello. It was only around the time when Paul Robeson tackled the role in England in 1930 and later on Broadway in 1943, did the practice of blackface with the role start dying out.** One immediate trans woman performer from San Francisco who is perfectly capable of playing Anna is cabaret star/actress Veronica Klaus, who has both the vocal and acting chops for such a role. Another possible choice might be Chicago transgender actress Alexandra Billings, who's appeared in leading roles in that city for years and has long career in cabaret club performances. Klaus and Billings are, perhaps, a little young for the role (although there are plenty of Broadway performers who've played 'older')

Adele Anderson from 'Fascinating Aida'

My first choice for a trans woman who would play this role 'for real' is British performer Adele Anderson, an Olivier-nominated performer who's been in a number of West End shows and is best know as one of the pillars of the award winning group Fascinating Aida, an all women's comedy/cabaret group which has been famous in England for decades. Anderson, is a powerful, moving singer/actress/composer/director of the right age (mid-50s) and even has a passing resemblance to Olympia Dukakis. How often do such opportunities come in the life of a trans person performing in mainstream theater? How often are such issues even discussed? It's worth noting that in the musical version of "Priscilla Queen of the Desert" opens in March 2011 on Broadway after a long run in Australia, London and Toronto, the role of post-op trans woman Bernadette is being portrayed by, yes, a gay male performer, Tony Sheldon.**

Gay male Tony Sheldon as Bernadette in Priscilla

While I wish Ms. Buckley well and hope the show will have a long New York run, yet again I suspect we'll be having endless interviews with her about "what's it like to play a transsexual," "did you have concerns [as a 'real' woman and normal actress] to accept a role like that?" And after concerned inquiries from the likes of Regis and Kelly or 'The View' gang, who with furrowed eyebrows and studied concern will ask Ms. Buckley about 'transgenders', and will be answered with responses like, "well... I know some of 'them'" or "I had a transsexual advisor who's become my best bud" as though that's really a substitute for having a trans woman in the role. We'll have articles written which will, no doubt, explain for us how Betty Buckley is a flesh and blood woman, very feminine and Anna the transsexual is just a character she plays (heaven forfend her role should get her confused with the 'real thing'). Dukakis, who was very to the point about not trying to somehow speak for trans people's experience, has related she actually had speaking engagements (especially with women's groups) cancelled on her after she played Anna 10 years ago. So it's worth asking if Broadway is still really ready to have a trans actress/singer, not just as "freaky window dressing" but as a central character? Sadly, we seem to already have our answer.

*There were famous black Othellos like 19th Century Shakespearean actor Ira Aldridge, who tragically never performed the role in the US.

**The original portrayal of the trans women character in the Australian film version of Priscilla was actor Terrance Stamp. Adele Anderson later explained in an interview that, before he made the film, after he'd heard about her from a friend of a friend, Stamp invited her to an incredibly uncomfortable dinner to pick her brain and ask her what it was like to 'be a transsexual.' About 2/3rds of the way through, he made it clear that he didn't actually understand that she, herself, was trans. She quipped he clearly didn't use one iota of her perspective in the final film nor did he credit her as an advisor.

Jonathan Ames: pasteurized not homogenized

Paul Dano as Louis in drag: trying to look

like Katie Holmes

Jonathan Ames' book "The Extra Man" is basically two stories woven together. The first being the relationship between Louis, a 20-something, somewhat directionless writer (based on Ames) and his friendship/mentorship with Henry, his 60-something flamboyant roommate who is a "walker"— a companion for old, wealthy women, probably a closeted gay man and, as he says, politically somewhere to the right of the pope. The other plot involves the main character's exploration of his own sexuality and gender issues including forays into crossdressing and sex with pre-op trans women. The latter is pretty much a thread through almost all of Ames' work, which for almost a decade involved his sexual obsession with trans women and his frequenting the famed (somewhat seedy) trans-themed club "Sally's" located just around the corner from Port Authority Bus Terminal near Times Square. Ames has some mention of Sally's, street transsexuals, trans sex workers or sex with trans women in pretty much all of his various fiction and autobiographical short story collections.

Jonathan Ames enjoying a cameo of

what he's no longer allowed to

do in mainstream representations of his books.

The 'Expert' Man

He even edited a collection called "Sexual Metamorphoses" which is an anthology of excerpts from transsexual autobiographies and not a bad introduction to the subject matter for "novices." In the preface of that book (and in one of his autobiographical short stories) he goes into detail how he had a brief sexual fling with Aleisha Brevard, an iconic trans woman who transitioned in the 1960s (after starring at Finocchio's in San Francisco) appeared [in stealth] in b-Hollywood films like The Love God with Donald Knotts, and on a regular the Dean Martin Show, went back to school, and became a college professor, stage actress, director and writer of her own highly witty autobiography. (She also played the DC Comics superhero "Giganta" for a Saturday morning kids' series!) When Ames met her in a small, gay bar in Pennsylvania, he had no idea she was trans, and it was only years later, when Ames' editor showed him Brevard's highly-entertaining autobiography, "The woman I was not born to be" did Ames understand Brevard's history (so claims Ames).

(l) Stealth starlet Aleisha in the 60s

(r) A poster from her 1969 classic trash film

filmed at Spahn Ranch... AKA Charles

Manson's home base of 'operations'

Manufactured quirky

In 2010, a film version of The Extra Man came out (just out on DVD), by the same team which made the award winning film American Splendor (based on Harvey Pekar's comic novels). While some parts of The Extra Man are transferred over nearly verbatim, much of the transsexual characters and storyline is expunged and minimized in the film as well as virtually all the overtly sexual content. By contrast, in the novel, Louis has two extended, explicit sex scenes with two different trans women.

The Kit Kat Klub of 90s New York

He goes to Sally's a number of times in the book, giving an fairly accurate, if 'white boy-tranny chaser's' view of the scene. Apart from the women he has sex with, he regularly talks to an older trans women who's a fixture at the club... very likely based on the late ballroom legend, Dorian Corey, who was a regular at Sally's. While his connection to the 'chaser' scene is laced with guilt (something many chasers feel) his attraction to and appreciation of the trans women depicted in the book seems genuine. As is his profound concern about whether he's straight, gay or, as a the Dorian Corey character dryly explains... 'straightish.' Much of Ames' best writing is based around his ambivalence and (momentary) shame surrounding his sexual desires.

Beautiful Giselle Xtravaganza/Alicea at the film's

version of Sally's (which had long since closed)

In the film, this plot line (perhaps 30% of the book) has been reduced to one very short scene at Sally's. He meets only a single trans woman (fortunately played by the beautiful ballroom star/sometime Pat Field model, Gisele Xtravaganza, has a handful of dialog with her in which she tenderly senses his 'interest' in crossdressing and, guess what... no sex, no intimacy. As NYC cops love to say, "shows over, move along." It's all replaced with Katie Holmes (AKA Mrs. Tom Cruise) who plays a character which, though extremely marginal in the book, is vastly expanded in the film—that of Louis' nuts and granola co-worker. Needless to say, in the final product, the brief scene with Gisele is one of the few high points of an otherwise, tired and forced-quirky film while the scenes with Katie Holmes have been ripped by critics as flat and cliched (jokes about uptight vegans... heehee). The film also removes an extended scene in the book which takes placed at Show World, once the area's 'premier' sex emporium, eventually forced out by Mayor Rudy Guiliani's whitewashing rehab of the Times Square district in the 90s.

Crossdressing = harmless; sex with trans women = bad

Curiously, a certain amount of the content involving Louis' interest in crossdressing remains in the film (albeit in slightly watered-down form). The film, like the book, begins with him trying on his co-workers bra at the private school where he teaches, only to get him laid off. In both he contracts with a kooky punkette to help him feminize himself. In the book, his disappointment with this session comes from his feminizing consultant's total lack of taste—basically trying to dress the en femme Louis as an uglier version of herself. In the film, he curiously is shown trying to half-ass dress up like the Katie Holmes character in a kind of creepy version of autogynophilia. What the film lacks is some of the book's painful self-loathing narcissism though which Louis' crossdressing is funneled. In the film, a terribly passive and chaste performance by Paul Dano as Louis makes the character seem as if you'd have to teach him how to masturbate while wearing a bra and panties.

Audiences come in droves to see Katie Holmes

As it was, the film was pretty much a bomb, getting a lowly 6.2 rating on Internet Movie Database, and a poor Metacritic score of 56 out of 100. The reviews focused largely on Kevin Kline's 'comeback' role as Henry and the one note performance by Paul Dano as Louis which in fairness, when all the book's sexual obsessions and trans lust are bleached away, is a not terribly compelling character. At the same time the film was being made, HBO began running a series called Bored to Death based on one of Ames' short stories in which he becomes an amateur private detective (advertising on Craigslist) who finds his client's lost sister, nearly gets killed and forgets to charge for expenses. The series is cute and is largely filmed around Park Slope, Brooklyn but, again, eradicates all of the sexual and trans-based content so prominent in Ames' written work. The lone trans element from the entire first season is Laverne Cox (from VH1's Transform Me) as a "tranny hooker" in a seedy hotel who calls the cops on Jonathan Schwartzman's character who's here the stand-in for the young Ames. After one or two sassy lines, she's off, never to be seen again. Evidently, some executives have decided Jonathan Ames has a quirky appeal, especially for slob single guys who like his perv humor (and also likely visit shemales.com... Ames has a strong gay following as well) but the trans stuff... too creepy except as a bit of "freaky... woo hoo, look what a sordid place New York is" kind of window dressing. But measured in fractions of a teaspoon, not in Ames' usual "I'm a perv" gallon container. It's bowdlerized Ames... about as exciting as reading the bowdlerized versions of the Delta of Venus or Tropic of Capricorn.

Very mild salsa

Sad to say, stripped of his sexual and trans obsessions (not to mention his best friend who appears in many of his stories... an amputee who invented a "mangina" appliance—involving his own scrotal skin as pseudo labia!), Ames seems like just another sophomoric overgrown college boy humorist, the kind which overpopulate America's cultural landscape. PJ O'Rourke with a bald head. Clearly, the media types encountering his written material think the trans elements in his writing are easily slashed or minimized but, like removing all the stuffing out of a (kinky) comfy chair, one is left with nothing on which to sit. The truth is, in a film world without trans people, what are you left with but a bunch of overpaid straights imitating transgression.

Addendum:

To rub salt into the wound, The Extra Man DVD release features commentary with Ames and Kevin Kline. During the Sally's scene, when Giselle comes on, Kline offers the following:

KK: This guy's really good... what's his name? Not Paul [Dano]... him/her?

Ames explains Giselle is a transsexual then goes on to tell an [almost certainly apocryphal] story about how they ADR'd (filmspeak for dubbed) Gisele's voice with the voice of director Shari Springer Bergman.

Having heard Gisele speak in a number of other videos, I can honestly report she sounds exactly the same in this film as she does in the film Lost In the Crowd, in which she appears with her mom in a loving scene of motherly support for her trans daughter (and that Giselle doesn't sound a thing like the director, who does another commentary track for the DVD). Heaven forfend two straightish men 'comment' about a truly gorgeous trans women and not have some element of putdown.

Mother, NY... no more 'Mad Men'?

Thank you, creatives at Mother, NY! Nothing like

a man in a wig with a mustache to say

tranny loser! har har *slaps knee*

Mother, NY is an award-winning (2009 agency of the year as determined by Creativity Magazine), hipster ad agency which often uses humor in ads. They're best known for their whimsical, widely seen commercials for K-Y and Stella Artois but other clients include Diet Coke, IKEA and even Amnesty International. Recently, to publicize their move from lower Manhattan to Hell's Kitchen in midtown Manhattan, the wits at Mother, NY came up with a pfuuuunny little promo piece called: Transsexual Barber shop. *chortle*

NOTE: the section being discussed starts at point 2:09 in the video.

Commodified Creativity

Here's the concept, we all know trannies (the MtF kind) have facial hair, right... RIGHT? So how about a barber shop which caters to these creatures? A barber shop (which are for men, get it?) which can trim the mustaches of men dressing like ladies (which is the definition of the word "transsexual") Mother, NY reasons, if we can show our creativity in promoting such an outrageous concept as that, we can advertise anything plus it will showcase our outrageous sense of humor and ability to break boundaries. *guffaw*

Is this OUTRAGEOUS or what?

The video features a shot of their new "shop" with a huge banner saying "transsexual mustache clipping" (which is represented by images of men with mustaches wearing wigs). Just to add a double dose of outrageousness, the wags at Mother, NY also include a line saying, "We also help French women." In case you don't understand the humor in this line, just follow me: 1) the women in some ethnic groups have more facial hair than others; 2) facial hair on women is just gross; 3) all Americans hate the French; 4) C'mon, it's just funny, lighten up! *raucous laughter*

Haha, transsexuals = FAIL

After showing a series of transsexuals with facial hair they then take it to the streets and interview boring people what they think about the transsexual hair styles. At one point, they ask a professional looking woman, "would you tell your transsexual friends about the transsexual barber shop?" She responds by looking stumped, and then replies, "probably not." Now is this response supposed to mean, "what, me, have transsexual friends?" or "no, because this 'joke' would likely offend them and make them think less of me because I would stoop to making a stupid joke at their expense?"

At the end of the piece, while scrolling through a list of all the services, real and hee-larious, which Mother, NY provides, it lists "transgender pruning." Yes, the transgenders are a hopeless bunch and need help in their pathetic quest to blend in. Thank you advertising peeps, we all need a laff. I want apologize for the blacks, handicapped people and Asians who won't allow you to include them in your 'fun'... but there's always us transsexuals. And advertising professionals such as yourselves have definitely come a looong way since the smug, entitled, sexist ways of the Mad Men crew. Right? ...RIGHT?! *ROTFLMAO*

10/19 Update: The offending video was removed from YouTube although it still exists in the compilation video shown above. There were individual apologies sent to people who wrote Mother, NY but no corporate-wide, publicly available statement as to why they did the piece and why they removed it.

The wild GENDER REBELS at Mother, NY.

Woo Hoo, Rock 'N Roll!

We own you... yet another gay male comic gets big trans laffs

Left: Serrato... Right: Heaven

Michael Serrato, an LA-based former member of the Logo network program "The Big, Gay Sketch Show" is a gay man who, yes, occasionally performs as a "tranny hooker" character called "Heaven." Most recently, Mr. Serrato, as Heaven, has come out with a video for a song called "I Though You Knew" about a player who finds out his lover (a transsexual former prostitute) is "really a man." As with my previous post about Paul Soileau, Serrato is yet another gay, non-trans performer who is trying to get mileage out of laughing at the world of trans sexworkers.

I Thought You Knew perpetrates the trope of trans women "tricking men" and how many of the men linking up with them have no idea the women they're attracted to have a trans past. In reality, the vast majority of men who have perpetrated violence against trans women knew very well who they were involved with and even sought out those women specifically for a sexual connection with a trans woman. He writes (as Heaven), "It's pretty much autobiographical, It's real sad. But don't worry my babies, I'm all good now, I gotta a real big vibrator.") In other words, men breaking up with trans women is a big joke, not a situation which is rife with abuse both emotional and physical as well as violence and even murder. In the real world, Serrato is a gay man who doesn't in any way actually live even part time as a transgender person. It's a schtick.

Previously, Serrato had another video called "Heaven" about his trans character transitioning and hooking to save up for "her fishy" (aka vagina). It's all done with a lot of ghetto patois even though Serrato makes no direct attempt to "black up." It has lots of jokes about "lady bits," giving oral sex, trans-related surgery and how she's going to be a lady rapper when she gets a pussy. There don't seem to be any actual trans women in the video which goes a long way to make trans sexworkers lives into a joke. The term "tranny" is repeated ad nauseum, at one point Serrato saying "look bitch, I'm a tranny... t.r.a.n.n.y."

While Serrato is a comedian first and there's little question the videos are not made as serious social statements about the lives of trans sexworkers, it's also true that he falls into a category of "gay-themed" entertainment which laughs at the supposed trashiness and marginality of trans women involved in the street economy. Moreover, this genre of humor seems to overwhelmingly be done by white, non-trans performers for overwhelmingly white, non-trans audiences willing to laugh at the hi-jinx of trans women of color. Note that in "I Thought You Knew" the boyfriend being referenced is clearly supposed to be a black man and, at one point, there are what sounds like white men trying to imitate the voices of black trans women. It is a kind of aural blackface, albeit without the greasepaint.

Left: Serrato... Right: a real gay man

Why a rather preppy gay man feels he can only get big laughs when dressed as a take-off of a trans hooker is a question which needs to be asked. Is his own life too flat and colorless to be the source of the outrageous humor he's trying to express and market? Why do so many gay performers feel the need to objectify and even ridicule trans women to live out their own transgressive dreams? How is it non-trans men feel they possess the entitlement to make highly personal and even dismissive observations about trans women's bodies, transitional struggles and life experience? I'm aware chubby gay men can feel marginalized and unappreciated in their own communities, but why is this an invitation to make complex and difficult trans lives into cartoons?

Serrato and gay buds explaining the realities

of tranny hookerdom.

In none of the performances of this genre have I ever seen an expressed appreciation for what trans women, especially those from low-income communities of color, actually go through nor, the very real danger those women are exposed to as the group with the highest seropositivity rates, horrific rates of rape and domestic violence and the worst murder rate of any group. No, that's not the stuff of laughs, but it might give a depth of portrayal and empathy to what is now little more than crass minstrelsy and lazy cultural appropriation.

Paul Soileau and Christeene:the new Shirley Q Liquor?

White guy Soileau (l) and Christeene (r)

Paul Soileau is a white, gay, self-described performance artist whose main creative outlet is drag. A native of Louisiana, after a stint in the East Village in NYC, he was based out of New Orleans until left homeless by Hurricane Katrina and eventually settled in Austin, TX. His prior best known stage persona was called Rebecca Havemeyer, a white southern woman who looked like "a lady who lunched" but with pretensions to being more hip. A southern Dame Edna. As a drag persona, it was fairly subdued and not overly trashy. But recently, Soileau has performed using a new character called "Christeene Vale" who is what appears to be a crack-whore trans hooker of some kind of non-white ethnicity. It true that some of the earlier Christine videos didn't sound as "black," but in the most recent one "Fix My Dick" he clearly attempts to "sound black."

Soileau's work as Christeene has appeared on the "Funny or Die" site including a video for a song called "tears from my pussy." While Soileau doesn't wear blackface, Christeene sing/speaks in a patois clearly suggesting she's supposed to some variety of a person of color (Soileau himself says says, " Janet Jackson and Mike Tyson inspired the vocal creation of Christeene's childlike nasal whine.") He wears a ratty black wig, smeared makeup and, most often, a cheap secondhand store dress which looks as if it's been slept in for a month. He also uses a crappy, ill-fitting gold-capped tooth to make his teeth rotten. The entire effect is of a trans hooker on the bottom of the sexworker totem pole who's been tweeking for the last year. Think of it as skanky drag with a certain amount of Marilyn Manson mixed in.

trans ridiculing performance artist (l)

person in panda suit (r)

More "Die" than "Funny"

As Soileau says of his character in the Austin Chronicle:

"Christeene is a very strange vagrant creepy woman/man/woman who somehow has a platform to express her-/himself only with the knowledge she/he has obtained from the grocery store magazine racks or word of mouth. Most everyone you talk to is the same way. Nobody knows what the hell they're talking about. And Christeene is calling you on it.

"All my characters are ignorant. Rebecca, she has 'winning ignorance,' as I like to say," says Soileau. "I think Christeene has 'winning ignorance,' because I myself am quite ignorant. I mean, come on, girl, I'm Louisiana-educated. I ain't gonna brag like I know my stuff. I'm not gonna say stuff I don't know. Or try not to, unless I'm in character. Then I can get away with it." (note: Soileau graduated from Loyola University in New Orleans... which costs about 40K a year)

It's supposed to be funny. The joke is, how unsexy can you get, how trashy, uneducated, crack-sleazy and filthy can you look while singing with extremely sexual lyrics and pretending you're horny and hawt. Got it? It's intended as some kind of social commentary. As PJ Raval (one of the team who made Trinidad, a film about Trinidad, CO and Marci Bowers which was shown on LOGO), the filmmaker who works with Soileau said to him:

Christeene is social commentary. That's why I'm doing this. You [Paul] do have a message... Christeene comments on gender, sexuality, media, pop stars, and then flips it all on its head... she's likable, sweet, and sincere.

Although as Soileau himself admits:

There’s a group of people who just don’t like Christeene. It’s usually women, a certain kind of woman, and somehow this Christeene character just strikes them in that feminist way—-that I’m being derogatory or something. But they can’t put their finger on it. Because Christeene’s a man, but Christeene’s a woman, and Christeen’s singing about her pussy and her butthole and getting fucked in both, and enjoying the dick of a man and the pussy of a woman, and enjoying having a baby… she’s a creature. She’s everything.

Interesting how Soileau puts it... Christeene's a man, but Christineene's a woman... in other words, Christeene is supposed to be some flavor of trans. And even though Soileau is of cajun background, the way Chrsteene speaks/sings is clearly supposed to sound non-white. Therefore... the act is really him portraying a trans hooker of color who is massively fucked up and screwing to survive. You may now laugh.

Soileau (l) fantasizes about stroking hairy butts (r)

The question is, what is the real point of Soileau's act? One might say it's about the lowest member of societies raw sense of survival. One might say it's about dignity in the most screwed up of persons. But the reality is, looking at any aspects of Soileau's act, it's really hard to actually find those statements in the performance (nor Raval's claim of her sweetness or sincerity). What much of the act (which often includes Soileau as Christeene revealing his dick) is... fucked up people are good for a laugh. Trans hookers of color are hilarious, especially if they're strung out and living on the street.

Weekend Warriors

Yes, there are many highly homogenized (by appearance anyway) gay men who project desperate fantasies of their wished-for glorious sleaziness onto trans women, drag and persons of color. They love to drone on about their lack of "political correctness" and how they're thumbing the finger at self-loathing gay men and the LGBT establishment who are embarrassed by drag. What's notable however, is how these men don't live "the life", they just use it as performance fodder for a few hours of outrageousness (and making trans people look trashy) only to retreat back to their IZOD shirts and designer eyewear when it's over.

Does Soileau's act (AKA performance art) ever ponder WHY someone like Christeene got so messed up... was she able to find work, or remain with her family or go to an expensive Catholic University? Not really, it's supposed to be outrageously funny and, as with fellow white, gay, southern performer, Chuck Knipp and his character Shirley Q. Liquor, if you can't laugh at it, then STFU. Interesting how southern gay culture seems to be producing a stream of "art" using racism and exploiting trans identities and issues (or at least, done through drag or female impersonation) and using a shield of "humor and entertainment" to deflect criticism. Maybe this is what old racist rebels (and countless cracker country singers) meant when they would endlessly proclaim, "the south's gonna rise again!"

The south's gonna rise again! Yee haw