(no subject)
And I did want to use a hermaphrodite as the narrator. It seemed to me that a novelist has to have a hermaphroditic imagination, since you should be able to go into the heads of men and women if you want to write books. What better vehicle for that than a hermaphrodite narrator?
. . .
I started with the idea of writing a fictional memoir of a hermaphrodite. I thought it would be a shortish book of about 250-300 pages. In opposition to the way hermaphrodites have existed in literature previously - as mythical creatures, mainly, like Tiresias- I wanted to write about a real hermaphrodite. I wanted to be accurate about the medical facts. I went to medical libraries and read a lot of books. The genetic condition that I found happened to be a recessive mutation that only occurs in isolated communities where there's been a certain amount of inbreeding.
Jeffrey Eugenides Has It Both Ways, Dave Weich, Powells.com
Mr. Eugenides first contemplated hermaphroditism about 20 years ago when he read a memoir by Alexina Barbin, a 19th-century French hermaphrodite. But he became frustrated that ''it was written by a convent schoolgirl, and it seemed to be written by a convent schoolgirl -- very melodramatic, evasive about the anatomical details,'' he said, adding, ''She was unable to describe her emotions.'' He decided ''to write the story that I wasn't getting from the memoir.''
. . .
In depicting Cal, Mr. Eugenides said, he wanted to be ''medically accurate and realistic.''
. . .
Mr. Eugenides's research into hermaphroditism, sexology and the establishment of sexual identity amounted to what Cal and his parents go through. Mr. Eugenides consulted experts and read widely, but he has never met a hermaphrodite.
. . .
After ''Middlesex,'' he said, he wonders: ''Why is a hermaphrodite not the narrator of every novel? It's the most flexible and omniscient voice. Every novelist has to have a hermaphroditic imagination to get into the minds of men and women.''
A Novelist Goes Far Afield but Winds Up Back Home Again By Bill Goldstein
Originally, I planned to write a short, fictional autobiography of a hermaphrodite. Hermaphrodites in literature have tended to be mythological or fanciful creations. Tiresias has the power to tell the future. Virginia Woolf's Orlando changes sex over the course of a tricky paragraph or two. I didn't want to write about a myth. I wanted to write about a real person.
. . .
While writing the book I was in contact with ISNA (the Intersex Society of North America) and, when the book originally appeared-and far fewer people knew about it-the ISNA people appeared pleased with my treatment of the subject. At a reading I did in Portland once, I was briefly picketed by some intersex people who objected to my use of the term "hermaphrodite." They find the term pejorative. I met with them briefly after my reading and discussed their objections. The accommodation I came to is as follows: When speaking about living people, I try to use the word "intersex." But when speaking about Greek mythology and literary characters like Tiresias, I reserve the right to use the normative, historical term: hermaphrodite. The word comes to us from the myth of Hermaphroditus, after all, and who am I to throw out the Greek myths?
A Conversation With Jeffery Eugenides
. . .
I started with the idea of writing a fictional memoir of a hermaphrodite. I thought it would be a shortish book of about 250-300 pages. In opposition to the way hermaphrodites have existed in literature previously - as mythical creatures, mainly, like Tiresias- I wanted to write about a real hermaphrodite. I wanted to be accurate about the medical facts. I went to medical libraries and read a lot of books. The genetic condition that I found happened to be a recessive mutation that only occurs in isolated communities where there's been a certain amount of inbreeding.
Jeffrey Eugenides Has It Both Ways, Dave Weich, Powells.com
Mr. Eugenides first contemplated hermaphroditism about 20 years ago when he read a memoir by Alexina Barbin, a 19th-century French hermaphrodite. But he became frustrated that ''it was written by a convent schoolgirl, and it seemed to be written by a convent schoolgirl -- very melodramatic, evasive about the anatomical details,'' he said, adding, ''She was unable to describe her emotions.'' He decided ''to write the story that I wasn't getting from the memoir.''
. . .
In depicting Cal, Mr. Eugenides said, he wanted to be ''medically accurate and realistic.''
. . .
Mr. Eugenides's research into hermaphroditism, sexology and the establishment of sexual identity amounted to what Cal and his parents go through. Mr. Eugenides consulted experts and read widely, but he has never met a hermaphrodite.
. . .
After ''Middlesex,'' he said, he wonders: ''Why is a hermaphrodite not the narrator of every novel? It's the most flexible and omniscient voice. Every novelist has to have a hermaphroditic imagination to get into the minds of men and women.''
A Novelist Goes Far Afield but Winds Up Back Home Again By Bill Goldstein
Originally, I planned to write a short, fictional autobiography of a hermaphrodite. Hermaphrodites in literature have tended to be mythological or fanciful creations. Tiresias has the power to tell the future. Virginia Woolf's Orlando changes sex over the course of a tricky paragraph or two. I didn't want to write about a myth. I wanted to write about a real person.
. . .
While writing the book I was in contact with ISNA (the Intersex Society of North America) and, when the book originally appeared-and far fewer people knew about it-the ISNA people appeared pleased with my treatment of the subject. At a reading I did in Portland once, I was briefly picketed by some intersex people who objected to my use of the term "hermaphrodite." They find the term pejorative. I met with them briefly after my reading and discussed their objections. The accommodation I came to is as follows: When speaking about living people, I try to use the word "intersex." But when speaking about Greek mythology and literary characters like Tiresias, I reserve the right to use the normative, historical term: hermaphrodite. The word comes to us from the myth of Hermaphroditus, after all, and who am I to throw out the Greek myths?
A Conversation With Jeffery Eugenides