Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides

This is one of those rare, treasured books that suck you in from page one.  Admittedly, I was a bit reluctant to read this book.  The concept just sounded too Jerry Springer/Maury Povich for my taste.  But, finally, the deficit of books at my local library that I haven’t read led me to pick it up.  I’m very glad that I did.  There’s no Springer-esque trailer-park-exhibitionism here, no hokey Povich circus-act-disguised-as-emotional-tear-jerker-moment antics.  There are, however, a few ”ick!” moments.  I’m a Southern girl, born and bred, so intermarriage within families is nothing new to me, but no one I know has actually married a sibling.  Or, if they have, they’ve had the mercy not to tell me about it.

Middlesex is a novel about assimilation.  About the process of absorbing one culture into another.  How one is usually subducted (not an actual word, but you know what I mean) by the other.  But it also tells of our differences.  No matter how well we are absorbed into the whole, we are still separate due to our own individuality.  This book celebrates that while, at the same time, describing the awkwardness and pain of being different.  No matter how we outwardly celebrate individuality, inwardly there is still something in us that wishes to be “normal”.

The character of Desdemona fascinated me.  As did the whole character of Greekness.  I’ll admit to being completely unaware of the burning of Smyrna in the 1920s, which is an excellent example of the insularity of the American education system.  I googled it.

Middlesex is a wonderful, absorbing novel that I would definitely recommend to anyone.  Mr. Eugenides’ other novel, The Virgin Suicides, is definitely going on my “to be read” list.  I loved this book!

Rating:  5 out of 5 stars