I'd loosely heard about this book in college, and this summer I heard about it again through a podcast, "Stuff Mom Never Told You" and decided to give it a try. Much different than I first thought, Middlesex is quite relevant to today's commentary on sexual orientation, gender, and identity. Part of its appeal was author Jeffrey Eugenides, who is from Detroit and of Grecian/Irish descent. I thought he'd have some insights into cultural heritage and identity.

The book itself is like a trifle, with layers upon layers. Its a family photo album, beginning with the Callie's (the narrator) grandmother and grandfather immigrating to Detroit, the birth of her mother and father, and their struggle to find jobs. While family history shapes our identities, one of my issues with the book is that I wanted to know more about Callie. As the omniscient narrator, Callie finally makes her appearance halfway into the book. She says she has lived half her life as a man, but I only got a glimpse into 15 years of her life, of which she lived 1 year as a man. That being said, Jeffrey Eugenides has written a sensitive portrayal of a girl trying to figure out her place in this world. I wanted to care, but it just gets a little old after a while.

Quotes:

I've lived more than half my life as a male, and by now everything comes naturally. When Calliope surfaces, she does so like a childhood speech impediment. Suddenly there she is again, doing a hair flip, or checking her nails. It's a little like being possessed. (page 41)

Emotions, in my experience, aren't covered by single words. I don't believe in "sadness," "joy," or "regret." Maybe the best proof that the language is patriarchal is that it oversimplifies feeling. (page 217)

… And all ways but one, I began to grow up. I sprouted with the velocity of the mung beans we studied Earth Science." (page 303)

This was a very "hazy" read for me, in the sense that all the words and ideas started to run together. Chocolate, desire, churchy people vs. gypsy people, the French countryside.... something like that. I did very much enjoyed the film, which I saw a few years ago. Maybe the book was just too bland and generic. Maybe I need Johnny Depp, who knows? I never felt a connection to anything, except Armande who played the enjoyable, independent old woman trope.

Similarly to Sabriel, I read this book because it was on a list "What to Read after Harry Potter." Like other readers have stated, its not Harry Potter. However, that doesn't mean its not as magical or fantastical.

Morgenstern writes delicately, almost like she has to dip her pen into a bottle of ink and sprinkle drying powder over each paragraph. Every word is precise and practiced and well-thought. The story is not really about a love story, or a competition, or even about magic. Its really about a circus. There are no magic spells, just a quality of magic that seems to weave seamlessly into the writing.

Recommended if you enjoy Alice in Wonderland dreamy-type landscapes, an aura of mystery, and of course, circus exhibits that you've only imagined!

Sorry, I just didn't like this book. I love Gaiman's imagery, and I recently read Stardust, which The Ocean at the End of the Lane is not. Now, I don't mind when authors expand their repertoires a little. (I just compared Naomi Novik's Temeraire series to Uprooted.) But I honestly think Gaiman got a little lazy here. The novel is short, but I think it would have benefited from more exposition. I understand its told from the perspective of a seven-year-old boy's memories. But doesn't age give way to wisdom? Its like Gaiman pooled random childhood events into this book: a love of books, lack of friends, financial troubles, bad babysitters, and turned it into a trippy fable.

Recommended if you liked Coraline and other such stories.

Quotes:
Books were safer than other people anyway. (page 9)

"Nobody actually looks like what they really are on the inside. You don't. I don't. People are much more complicated than that. It's true of anybody." (Lettie, page 112)