First of all, the title got me as I’ve been a fan of the U2 cover of this song since I fist heard it. Since reading this book, the song has been on repeat in my head. But onto the actual book:
Some Strange Music Draws Me In is now added to my personal queer essential books list which includes Stone Butch Blues and My Government Means to Kill Me.
This book was written by a trans person, for trans people. It means a lot. It was great. It was also tough. So much of it resonated with me in ways that very few other books have. It was stunning – pleasing and uncomfortable – to be so fully represented in a book as an older transmasculine person.
The narrative switches between 1984 and 2019. In 1984 the protagonist was 13 going on 14 and pre-transition. In 2019, he has fully transitioned and lives and works as a man. This is a coming-of-age in many ways. It is not a transition timeline, and I appreciate that. It’s more of a reflection on youth and changing times. Nostalgic, despite blatant bigotry and hardship.
In 1984, Mel meets a trans woman and is drawn to her as a familiar other. Though Mel doesn’t know that he’s trans, he immediately knows that he is similar to Sylvia. Sylvia also sees this and befriends Mel, helping him to understand that there is more than what he’s been shown. There are more people that feel this way. Mel lives in a small town filled with people who have a limited and limiting mindset about everything other. It’s not a fun place to find oneself when one is part of the other.
In 2019, Max struggles with feeling left behind in the trans movement. He’s rooted to his own experience of transition in the ‘90’s and is not as up to date on the terminology of the present. He also feels erased as a binary trans person. He’s affirmed in his man-ness, but often not in his trans-ness. Because he is both. Yes trans men are men. But we’re also different and that counts for something. Max revels that the youth do not have to suffer as much as he did, but he’s also angry that they don’t acknowledge the struggles he had to go through.
Though the protagonist is 15 years older than me, I too, struggled with lack of representation for what I felt growing up. I had no language for it. Even as I first began to transition, most of the representation I saw was of transfeminine people. There were a couple trans men, but the general public didn’t even know we existed. Despite the lack of public representation, trans people have always existed. Even when it was incredibly hard to do so.
I am so happy that young people these days have access to the vastness of the internet and media that now shows some positive representation. I’m also pretty jealous. And, like Max, I occasionally feel that the experiences of older tans people are not well acknowledged, or are occasionally considered problematic and written off.
The book ends on a positive note, no killing the queers in this one! However, another character does die tragically, and that hit close to home for me. I was able to escape my upbringing and move on to new and better things, but some people get left behind and cannot make it out.
Some notable quotes:
“…the mystery of knowing, how we can know a thing without thinking it, and how unthought knowledge leaves traces, fragments of the truth before it’s fully born.”
“How does the expanse of gender lead us right back to the binary?”
“…stunned and delighted, the way I am whenever I find other trans people simply existing…”
“People don’t say this often, but queerness can save your life. It forces you outside, where you have no choice but to find other resources.”
“Mostly I envied them the freedom they enjoyed. They didn’t have to worry about the things I worried about… Love and sex could be fun and open. The cops might hassle them, shine a flashlight and tell them to get moving, but they’d never be arrested for what they did or who they were. They’d never be publicly shamed… They had something I could not access.”
