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Biography & Autobiography. LGBTQIA+ (Nonfiction.) Sociology. Nonfiction. HTML:The stunningly original memoir of a nice Jewish boy who left the Church of Scientology to become the lovely lady she is today In the early 1970s, a boy from a Conservative Jewish family joined the Church of Scientology. In 1981, that boy officially left the movement and ultimately transitioned into a woman. A few years later, she stopped calling herself a woman�and became a famous gender outlaw. Gender theorist, performance artist, and author Kate Bornstein is set to change lives with her stunningly original memoir. Wickedly funny and disarmingly honest, this is Bornstein's most intimate book yet, encompassing her early childhood and adolescence, college at Brown, a life in the theater, three marriages and fatherhood, the Scientology hierarchy, transsexual life, LGBTQ politics, and life on the road as a sought-after speaker. This ebook edition includes a new epilogue. Reflecting on the original publication of her book, Bornstein considers the passage of time as the changing world brings new queer realities into focus and forces Kate to confront her own aging and its effects on her health, body, and mind. She goes on to contemplate her relationship with her daughter, her relationship to Scientology, and the ever-evolving practices of seeking queer selfhood. �A singular achievement and gift to the generations of queers who consider her our Auntie, and all those who will follow.� �Lambda Literary �Breathless, passionate, and deeply honest, A Queer and Pleasant Danger is a wonderful book. Read it and learn.� �Samuel R. Delany, author of Dhalgren.… (more)
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But let me start out with what bothered me, which was the apparent levity in which she treats her eating disorders and the desire to cut. S&M - different issue - I'm not here to judge. Both anorexia and cutting are serious issues that should be treated (or at least acknowledged) as
That being said, the apparent honesty and freshness in the way that she writes is amazing. Mark Twain believed that no man could ever write a completely true biography in his lifetime -- or ever. Kate Bornstein has come as close as anyone ever will to doing that.
I already knew that there are assholes everywhere, but the passages relating to her being discriminated against at lesbian or feminism functions and the community just sadden me.
Great for people with an interest in gender studies and LGBT rights/issues.
Written in a casual, conversational,
Really, this is three memoirs in one, as the extended title suggest:
A Queer and Pleasant Danger: The true story of a nice Jewish boy (1) who joins the Church of Scientology (2) and leaves twelve years later to become the lovely lady she is today (3).
Let's start with the nice Jewish boy. Kate (then Albert) realized at the tender young age of four-and-a-half that she wasn't a boy and, therefore, must be a girl. With that self-realization, a youth of lying to the world, putting on an act, and hiding her true self began. She doesn't spend a lot of time wondering why she was different, or looking for answers (biological, psychological, theological, or otherwise), but there's one passage early on where she talks about her mother's previous miscarriage that ably demonstrates how she has so creatively imagined herself:
"Now here's what I think: I think no one knows what the previous tenant of my mom's uterus had left behind for me to pick up and use. I'm sure that girl body had been meant for me."
It's clever and simple, and the kind of imaginative leap you can only make if you are well-and-truly comfortable in yourself.
The Church of Scientology occupies a significant portion of the book, but as interesting as it is to peek behind the curtain, it does tend to wear thin quite quickly. The attraction of Scientology, her life within it, and (most importantly) it's continuing impact upon her life is important, though, and it frames perhaps the saddest, most heartfelt element of Kate's memoir . . . but more on that later. To me, the appeal of Scientology has always been inconceivable, but I can't say there isn't something beautiful and profound in its appeal to Kate:
"...they [the Church of Scientology] said I'm not my body, and I'm not even my mind. They told me I am a spiritual being called a thetan - from the Greek letter, which we were told meant perfect thought. Male and female is for bodies, they told me. Thetans have no gender."
Definitely an interesting thought, and you can clearly see how the theory so hooked a confused young transsexual. What follows is, no matter how you want to put it, a life inside a very closed cult, including an extended period where she lived at sea, with nobody around but other members of the Church. It was a life of spiritual, mental, and financial slavery (although Kate never uses that word), and one that ultimately cost her the love of two ex-wives, her daughter, and the chance to ever see the grandchildren that would come later. The chapter in which she describes her Excommunication made me so furious, I literally threw the book across the room and let it sit on the floor for a good week and a half before I could pick it up again without feeling the urge to tear it to pieces.
It's definitely the low part of her life's story, but it's true what they say - at least when you hit rock bottom there's nowhere to go but up.
The third part of Kate's story is the most fascinating aspect of the book, and even if it's filled with pains of its own, the sorrows of her transition are both honest and (largely) self-inflicted. Really, Kate begins her entire life over again (several times, in fact) finding what should have been solace and support though the medical community, except she chose the wrong doctor, one who held her back rather than helped to guide her forward. It's not entirely clear what an impact the unprofessional nature of that relationship had on her transition until she moves on to a new doctor, one who has her best interests at heart.
"When I was a girl, I was a thirty-eight-year old man and I had to make up for lost time. It wasn't easy. I had to learn girl from the ground up, just as I'd had to learn boy. It wasn't pretty."
When Kate says it wasn't pretty, she's right. Her transition is marked by stories of self mutilation (cutting), drug and alcohol abuse, anorexia, and more. She clearly struggled hard to become the woman she is today, and even if we know she's a stronger person for those struggles, they are still hard to share. Relationships were, as you might expect, particularly troublesome for someone struggling as much with her gender as her sexuality. While some may argue she simply traded one cult for another, Kate's immersion in the BDSM lifestyle was absolutely fascinating for me, and probably the point at which I began to first notice real, genuine, powerful emotion coming through her story.
As ultimately uplifting and inspiring as her story may be, however, it's framed by a sadness so deep, it's difficult to experience. She begins and ends the book with a virtual shout-out to her daughter, a heart-felt plea for understanding, acceptance, and simple acknowledgement. It's a testament to the intensely personal nature of her final passage, the raw openness of her plea, that she was able to so completely overcome those feelings of rage and betrayal I originally felt over her excommunication. Instead of throwing the book across the room and wanting to tear it to pieces, I instead clutched it to my breast and cried for what might have been . . . and for what, if there is any justice in the world, still might be.
As published on Bending the Bookshelf
I am fascinated by Scientology. So her experience in the org, particularly in SeaOrg, is riveting. As a salesperson she enjoyed a pretty cushy ride, until she
Also fascinating was Kate's journey to her current identity as a nonbinary trans lesbian. Its been quite a road. Her interactions with radical cis lesbians, especially butch lesbians, were really instructive. I know of course how crummy the LGBT establishment has historically been (and mostly still is) to trans women. there has been a lot written and discussed about this in the past few years, but the stories of Sylvia Rivera and Marsha P. Johnson alone tell the story. Kate's story is slightly different, perhaps because she is upper middle class and white, but still saddening.
The most disturbing part of this is the part that deals with Kate the masochist and cutter. She mostly seems to deal well with her borderline personality disorder, but she is an old woman who still cuts and it is implied enjoys when others cut her. (Actually, she said that she got off on being carved. No implication. There was detail. What is not clear if she outgrew the desire and practice or if she still enjoys being sliced up.) That is not okay, and my heart cries for her because she has normalized and accepted her self harm and invited cruelty. I am glad she triumphed over suicidal ideation, alcoholism, and other challenges, but she still has work to do.
At times when reading this I felt like a peeping tom, but I know in my heart she wants me to peep. An interesting bio all in all, honest, edifying, and a quick read.
Kate Bornstein has led an interesting life by anyone's standards. There's a little something for everyone in her memoir: she started a closeted trans hippie boychick,
Be ready for detailed descriptions of disordered eating, cutting, and suicidal ideation.