A delightful and delighted book. Reading this felt really intuitive and also like someone was rearranging the furniture in my brain. It is such a desperately good and theologically insightful book that's so, so incisive and kind (sometimes I try to explain my enjoyment of Danny Lavery's work by saying, "He's the best possible outcome of being raised extremely Protestant."). It is also extremely funny. Not every essay/piece bowled me over completely, but the ones that did--boy oh boy will I be thinking about them for a long, long time. ( )

I've loved Daniel Lavery's writing ever since the old The Toast days, and will read everything he writes. I loved all the Bible references which he used as descriptive parallels to his transitioning (Jacob wrestling with God and being given a new name, etc.). He also did several of his signature retellings/reimaginings of classical poetry and literature. This book was funny and poignant and I liked it very much. 4 out of 5 stars.

Trigger warnings for this book: dysphoria, transphobia, Bible passages, depression and anxiety ( )

One thing I did not expect going into this is that I would end up with a crush on Daniel Lavery. The way this man's mind works (fanning myself) is knee-weakening for an intellect-hag like me. This is the single best book I have read about gender transition and it is also one of the most engaging collections of essays on religion and/or pop-culture I have come across. I worship the brain that can go from a mind-bending and hilarious analysis of "The Jerk" to an equally hilarious analysis of Hans Christian Anderson (so unpleasant apparently even Kierkegaard thought him a wet blanket, which is saying a lot), to why Gomez Addams is a transmasculine icon to why Duckie and Captain Kirk are lesbians. At every turn this book is funny. Really funny without being cruel or cutting. And at the same time it is honest and touching and deeply personal without being even slightly sappy.

This is a kind and joyful book, showing neither the anger (say Julia Serano) or conciliatory defeatism (say Kate Bornstein) or obstinate refusal to consider the merit of opinions different from the writer (say Susan Stryker) that I see in many books by gender non-binary and trans authors. Lavery looks for the good in people. He understands the resistance of his mother and other family members to calling him Daniel rather than his dead name. He wants to give them space to "make a mistake" of "forget" as they tell him they will. And though he understands, he also knows this is ridiculous, and uses the story of Jacob/Israel to shine light on that ridiculousness, on the lie of the excuses his mother and others are making. But that light he shines is not mocking, it is filled with a beautiful humanity and empathy, qualities so rare these days that it made me tear up a bit.

I saw GR reviews of this from people who apparently have the intellectual curiosity of a ferret and complained because not every word of this was about transition (actually, every word is filtered through a trans man lens, but perhaps that was too subtle) and also those who complained they were bested by bible references, (as if quoting a bible passage to an atheist were equivalent to plunging a wooden stake into a vampire) and I can safely say they are not the right readers for this book. If you are smart, curious, and want to see Mean Girls and gender and evangelical Christianity a whole lot differently than you ever have before, and do not want anger to be the only acceptable response to everything you see and hear which does not confirm your world view, I recommend this book passionately. ( )

(Review note: The author is credited as Daniel Mallory Ortberg, but recently changed his name to Danny M. Lavery. For the sake of clarity, I'm using his pre-marital name in this review.)

I'm not sure exactly how I felt about this. I loved Ortberg's writing at the Toast. This ranges across formats and genres, and some of it is more successful than others. I enjoy memoirs in general, and that worked well. The literary experimentation was a mixed bag but that may depend on personal taste. I don't really go for Christian theology, and while I completely understand Ortberg's choices there, it is not my thing.

It's difficult for me to grade this because it's such a mix, but ultimately, I went for how well I think he pulled it off and less about how much I enjoyed it. ( )

Memoir-ish account, punctuated by Lavery’s distinctive imagined conversations/monologues in the voices of historical/literary characters, of his transition and his relationship to transness and religious faith. Reminded me a lot of David Sedaris in exposing his own uncertainties and follies. ( )