I Heard Her Call My Name: A Memoir of Transition
4.2 4.2 out of 5 stars | 138 ratings
Price: 13.78
Last update: 12-23-2024
About this item
Named a Best Book of the Year by The New York Times, The Washington Post, and Slate
“Reading this book is a joy . . . much to say about the trans journey and will undoubtedly become a standard for those in need of guidance.”—The Washington Post
“Sante’s bold devotion to complexity and clarity makes this an exemplary memoir. It is a clarion call to live one’s most authentic life.”—The Boston Globe
“Not to be missed, I Heard Her Call My Name is a powerful example of self-reflection and a vibrant exploration of the modern dynamics of gender and identity.”—Lit Hub’s Most Anticipated Books of 2024
An iconic writer’s lapidary memoir of a life spent pursuing a dream of artistic truth while evading the truth of her own gender identity, until, finally, she turned to face who she really was
For a long time, Lucy Sante felt unsure of her place. Born in Belgium, the only child of conservative working-class Catholic parents who transplanted their little family to the United States, she felt at home only when she moved to New York City in the early 1970s and found her people among a band of fellow bohemians. Some would die young, from drugs and AIDS, and some would become jarringly famous. Sante flirted with both fates on her way to building an estimable career as a writer. But she still felt like her life was a performance. She was presenting a facade, even to herself.
Sante’s memoir braids together two threads of personal narrative: the arc of her life, and her recent step-by-step transition to a place of inner and outer alignment. Sante brings a loving irony to her account of her unsteady first steps; there was much she found she still needed to learn about being a woman after some sixty years cloaked in a man’s identity, in a man’s world. A marvel of grace and empathy, I Heard Her Call My Name parses with great sensitivity many issues that touch our lives deeply, of gender identity and far beyond.
Top reviews from the United States
5.0 out of 5 stars New insights
4.0 out of 5 stars A Fresh, Original Trans Memoir
"I Heard Her Call My Name" is not a trans rights manifesto; only briefly and toward the end of the book does Sante mention how transgendered issues have become part of our nation's endless "culture wars," with Republican politicians in red states passing a raft of draconian anti-trans legislation. Instead, this book is generally more personal than political. Sante is admirably honest. She admits that, even though her transition is mostly complete, she still sometimes feels like a fraud, an imposter, like she's not a "real woman." She also mentions issues rarely addressed in the media about the transgendered, such as Sante's uncertainty about what name to use as a byline for her writing after she's transitioned. If she adopts her real name, will this confuse her longtime readers, who might assume that Lucy Sante is a different person from Luc Sante, perhaps a relative?
The most original aspect of this book concerns how late in life Sante chose to transition, when she was already in her late sixties, even though she'd known from an early age she was really a woman. My one criticism of the book is that Sante could have done a better job explaining directly and in detail exactly why she waited so long. After all, as Sante acknowledges, most trans individuals transition much earlier in life. Sante does offer a few possible explanations to this puzzle. She suspects her strict, old-fashioned upbringing in Belgium, with a mother who was both a devout Catholic and extremely over-involved in his life, might have been a factor. The fact that Sante had been married for 14 years to a woman who'd be understandably taken aback to discover that her husband was really a woman, and that the couple had a son, were also reasons Sante was hesitant to take the plunge. Sante also notes that when she was younger being transgendered was extremely taboo, with few out transsexuals in the public eye. But the difficulty with this explanation is that for much of his life Sante moved in what she calls "bohemian" circles in New York and San Francisco, associating with lots of gay and trans individuals, most starving artists, none of whom would've blinked an eye if Sante had confessed that he was really a woman. So, the puzzle remains largely unexplained.
That problem aside, this is an admirably honest, well written, nondogmatic account of what it means to be trans. Sante makes the important point that not all trans people are alike, that the community is extremely diverse. Sante, for instance, remains just as exclusively attracted to women after she transitions as she was when she was a man, which isn't typical of all trans people. She also conveys what a huge step it is to transition from one gender to another, even if you're convinced it's the right move. After all, our gender so much defines us that changing it can be a frightening prospect, even if it's also liberating.